#i think these turned out very cute though! might end up making some more…

[celestefem]

haven’t been able to stop thinking about those pokémon cookies, so i made a couple out of polymer clay!

[fireflysymphony]

Aventurine w a fem! bodyguard reader smut... 👀

Aventurine x fem! bodyguard reader

MDNI 18+ content ahead

A/N: thank you for the request! I really like the concept. I wrote it as a mix of headcanons and a quick drabble at the end. I hope you enjoy it <3

Word count: 2.7k

Content warning: Fem! Reader, slight exhibitionism, pet names, fingering, teasing, praise, needy lovestruck Aventurine, slight degradation, slight begging (on his end), pretty soft sex, Aventurine’s daddy kink strikes again, I have a lack of gun knowledge but just roll with it, not proofread

Headcanons

Let me make this really clear: HE’S not the one who needs protection right now; it’s YOU.

The second he met you he was sizing you up with that cute little smirk of his, making it pretty obvious that all professionalism was lost the very moment he saw such a pretty number was working for him.

You should have run then.

What was the IPC thinking when they hired you for this? Is this some type of wrath from the Aeons? What did you do to deserve this punishment?

From the very beginning, he’s a pain to deal with, but you don’t have the authority to talk back, only giving him tight smiles and apologetic words. He knows this and takes full advantage of the situation.

“Y’know, princess, if you’re going to be with me all the time, shouldn’t I have a prettier view? I don’t like having to leave everything up to the imagination. Do you think red or blue is more your color? Ah~ I’ll buy both.” And you’re sitting there seething as he taps away on his phone, seemingly oblivious to your displeasure. Was he just joking? What was he doing?

The VERY next day you see Aventurine holding up not one but two skin tight dresses with fabric only hiding your more intimate areas. It was more like lingerie than a dress like something you’d see on a stripper.

He evidently wasn’t just teasing you.

As politely as you could, you told him it would hinder your fighting ability if anyone were to attack, so you absolutely couldn’t wear it. He made some futile comment about how he’d love to see you try so he could get a peek up your skirt to, you know, “negate the traumatizing experience of him being attacked.”

In the end, you won the argument, and Aventurine threw a tantrum, muttering something about giving them to a woman who’d actually appreciate a gift like that. You told him straight to his face that he should just give it to the many women he brought to bed each night then.

The surprised and hurt look on his face will forever be carved into your memory.

After that, he actively stopped calling you by his nicknames which, deep inside, you missed, or it might just be the guilt of seeing his usually inalterable flirtatious self turn into a sad kicked puppy of a man. You held onto your pride though and forced yourself to bite back any apology or reconsiderations of his request you may have had. The man should have known your job was on the line, and his insensitive acts of fickle flirtation could not sway you.

The very next day he was up to his usual antics, and you got the impression that he only seemed upset to try to guilt you. Asshole. It only made you more upset with him. Did he like playing with your emotions?

Did I mention he loves it when you say his name? Sometimes he’ll ignore your presence just to hear you say “Mr. Aventurine? Boss?! Sir, I’m talking to you.” In your signature annoyed tone. It makes his heart melt. The only thing he can think of is imagining how your little pants and sighs of his name sound while he’s on top of you. How would you sound if you weren’t constantly annoyed at him? If he brought you pleasure?

Honestly, he was whipped for you from day one, and his actions might sound annoying and overly flirtatious, but that’s just how he shows love.

I could tell you so many things that this man has done for your attention, but that’d probably be the length of the Holy Bible. There are so many places this could go, but I think this instance of his sticks out the most amongst many akin to it.

—

You were used to casinos at this point. The loud blaring sounds of people playing the slot machines and thick, suffocating smell of alcohol were background sensations at this point. You couldn’t even bother to give them a second thought, not when a gun was pointed at the man you were supposed to be protecting. Safe to say the poker game was ruined. Champagne soiled the cards, shards of glass from the glasses littered the floor and table, and Aventurine, stupid Aventurine, had his hands raised in the air, his signature smirk pointed at the assailant like his own brand of deadly weapon.

“Hey, hey, now. This isn’t the place to have one of those, is it? Look, you ruined the cards!” Adventurine laughed, making a circling motion with his hand as if trying to gesture to the table of cards which were now soaked a yellowish brown color. Your hand rested on your gun, ready to fire at any sign of him about to pull the trigger. “Can’t we talk this out? I’m sure with a little persuasion you be happy to hand over-“

Your pistol fired later than his. Shit.

All that registered in your mind was the crying of two men, and Aventurine hunched over with a pained expression as he gripped his stomach. You were trained for this, but in your state of panic, you ran to him instead of making sure the attacker was dead. You scooped him up, struggling to carry him with your gun pointed at the now surrounded shooter while retreating from the casino. You wished you could make sure he was dead, but attending to Aventurine’s injuries were your first priority.

“You idiot. I told you to stop provoking people and look where we are!” You scolded him, Aventurine now quiet and clinging to your shoulders. You were too panicked to question his unusual behavior after just being shot in the stomach. “..If you’re worried, you won’t die. I got you.”

“I think that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me, Princess.” He laughed, setting his chin on your shoulder. Sensing something was off, you turned down an alleyway and skidded to a stop. He wasn’t screaming in pain nor were his cheeks stained with tears, even the adrenaline wouldn’t keep him from crying out, right? “I’m surprised it took you this long to catch on. No, I’m not-“

Before he could finish his sentence, you dropped him to the ground before crouching down and lifting his shirt up. No wounds in sight.

“Getting rather intimate, aren’t we? You should give me the chance to do this to you.”

“Shut up! What did you do, Aventurine?!” You demanded, yanking his shirt back down before leaning back on your haunches. He looked satisfied with himself as he shuffled to lean against the alley wall. His hat and glasses were gone, probably from the scuffle. He’d have her go get them later.

“Uh-uh, remember who you’re talking to, beautiful.” He smiled, running his hand through his hair and covering his right eye, the other one illuminating his face well enough to be able to see his features in the darkness. “But since you haven’t figured it out, I simply hired someone to shoot me with a blank which, by the way, hurt like a bitch still. I might still need you to kiss my booboo.”

He saw you were about to open your mouth again and placed a finger to your lips, shushing you. “And before you ask: I replaced your bullets with blanks too, so you didn’t shoot an innocent man. I’m not that cruel.”

“You’re cruel to me.” You murmured, knocking his hand away from your face. He smiled and gave you a little shrug, just like a mischievous toddler who was proud when he colored on the walls. “You're impossible. I can’t believe I was actually worried for your life!”

“Worried? I make crazy bets all the time, princess. Gambling my life is no strange feat to me, you should know this.” He smiled again, this time actually touching your lips with the tip of his finger. Your lips parted, the fabric of his gloves sending you spinning. How soft were his actual fingers? What did they look like under those gloves? Were they long, slender, and delicate, or did they have some edge to them, all calloused and rugged? You imagined the former; Aventurine didn’t do much. “But, I have a pretty good hand right now. I bet you won’t stop me from playing it and showing you my cards.”

“But you’re gambling with my feelings too. That’s different. I don’t like being used.” You steadied yourself against the wall, trying to rid your mind of thoughts about his hands. Wait, when did he get so close? You were backed against the wall now, Aventurine caging you there with his lanky form.

“And I’ll make it up to you, just relax, babydoll. I just needed to be close to you. I couldn’t take it anymore.” He placed his forehead against yours, squeezing his eyes shut. His hand fit perfectly with her cheek as if their bodies were crafted for each other. You weren’t so sure, but the way you were feeling right now wasn’t professional.

“Let me take care of you instead for a chance.” He left featherlight kisses on your forehead, trailing down the side of your face. Each kiss grew longer than the last, his lips unable to pull away from you. He cupped both of your cheeks, his lips nearly touching yours as he spoke. “You aren’t pushing me away. I did all this for a moment alone with you, away from prying eyes. Now the IPC can’t punish you if you indulge a little. Please, pretty girl, let me have this. Let me have you.”

You shuddered from his warm breath on your mouth, months of his teasing and antics festering inside you. Defeat was so easy in this moment, the taste of another person’s lips a fleeting memory ever since you got this job. His constant advances would only get worse the more you rejected him. Aventurine always got what he was due. Always. Whatever it be you warming his bed one night or taking you in the back of an alleyway, he’d get it. Deep down, you loved being chased, but now the hunter finally cornered its prey.

“Not again. Never again after this, okay? One time so you make it fucking count.” You grabbed him by his shirt collar, smashing your lips against his, the taste of champagne filling your mouth. He knew what he was doing and held the back of your head, tangling his fingers with your hair. Your actions caught him off guard though; he prepared for the crushing reality of you pushing him away, but you didn’t. Now he just needed to act like he knew you wouldn’t all along.

The softness of his lips lulled you into a daze, your hands aching from how tight you held onto him. Each time he pulled back for a breath, you didn’t give him much time to rest before your lips were on his again, asking for more which he provided with no hesitance. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, taking the delicate flesh between his teeth and playing with it before letting his tongue mold into yours.

“Someone’s a little needy. I could tell by the way you act that you’re pent up, but this is bad.” He fully pulled away with his face flushed, binding your wrists together and holding them above your head with one hand. He left open mouthed kisses down your neck to your chest. Not bothering to waste anymore time, he used his teeth to free your chest from the buttons of your blouse. “Fucking me in an alleyway like this? You must have wanted me from the beginning. Please say you’ve always wanted me, pretty girl. Please… please… fromday one, I’ve always needed you…”

He pulled down your bra with his teeth, kissing and sucking at your breasts with a hunger similar to that of a starving man. His tongue flicked over your delicate buds, moaning at the feeling of your warmth in his mouth. You were starting to think he was right. He acted like he really did need you. As you saw him buried in your chest, eyes filled with lust and desire, all your second thoughts faded to dust.

“Mr. Aventurine…” You tugged on his hair, blond locks soft as the finest silk. Of course he was soft and so delicate; he felt like he could break with one wrong move from you. How was he so torturous and annoying yet the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?

Aventurine’s heart stopped at the sound of your whiny cry of his name. The sound he’s been craving was more beautiful than he could have ever thought.

“I got you, my princess. You’re so beautiful, so fucking gorgeous.” He held up his free hand to his lips, biting at the fabric a few times before getting a hold of the glove and slowly pulling it off. He kept eye contact with you as he did, giving you the impression he was trying to be seductive about it. Before you could say anything about it though, he was already back to your body, hands roaming down to the waistband of your pants.

Within moments, your pants and undergarments were bunched at your knees, and Aventurine got straight to abusing your clit, your already slick folds acting as the perfect lube. “You’re so wet for me. What a naughty, naughty girl you are. So bad, you couldn't hold back that professional facade for long. Were your panties always dripping when you got home? Did you touch yourself and think about me doing this? What a fucking slut.”

He chuckled and collected the slick before shoving a single finger into you, letting out a louder moan than you. He loved the way you felt around him, how tight you were squeezing just one finger. “Fuck… so tight. Can you even take another?” He managed to get another finger into you, stretching you out as he twisted deeper inside of you. He worked at a slow pace while also kissing your neck and chest, selfishly leaving marks in his wake. Eventually, he sped up, losing himself as he pounded into you with another finger.

Your body convulsed, hiccuping in pleasure. “Fuck! Fuck! S-sir-! Shit, I’m gonna- gonna...” You leaned your head on his shoulder, biting down hard to silence your moans and other noises. What had been but five minutes, and you were already falling apart.

“So fast and easy. Cum then, you fucking whore, cum all over daddy’s fingers.” He demanded, slamming his fingers deeper inside of you. You threw your head back, crying out profanities you hope nobody passing by heard. Your walls clenched around him, a wave of pleasure crashing through your body as you coated his fingers in your pleasure.

“There you go, just like that. You feel so good squeezing my fingers like that, good girl.” He pulled out of you after helping you come down from your high, his long, slender fingers covered in your release. He didn’t waste any time in getting rid of the evidence, moaning at your taste as he licked himself clean. “So good, I love you…”

He hoped you didn’t hear that last part, biting his lip to silence the words he just spoke. Thankfully, you looked too dazed to care. If you brought it up later, he’d tease you until you didn’t think it happened.

He let go of your wrists and embraced you, cradling your head against his chest and letting you put yourself back together. He kissed your forehead, mumbling any praises he could think of in your ear. He wanted to savor this moment because in a few minutes, he knew he’d be pushed away again. No matter how good he made you feel; you’d make it clear to him that you’d never fall for one of his traps again. That’s just the woman you were, and he didn’t make bets he knew he couldn’t win.

A/N: this kinda got out of hand, and Aventurine bangs his bodyguard turned into Aventurine becomes a menace (again). If anyone likes this, I’d be happy to make a part two with more detail on how they got together. I apologize to the requester if this isn’t what you had in mind, but I still hope you enjoyed it! <3

Requests are open!

[wolfiesmoon]

Hey I hope you are doing well when ever you are reading this but how do you think the 3rd year boys from twst would react to their s/o (gn reader) cuddling with a huge plush instead of them.

Like this.

Oh boy oh boy this kinda cures my writers block tbh, i have so many drafts but none of em look enticing enough to continue writing (´д｀|||)

I took out a few of the 3rd years bc its too many people for 1 fic but i might make a part 2 where i add the missing 3rd years at some point

i went with the more silly writing style again, hope that's fine by you ○( ＾皿＾)っ

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Malleus Draconia

He doesn't exactly get why, but he feels kinda annoyed just laying next to you while you hug a big ol plushie

This doesn't feel right🫤

But then again, you look rlly happy and satisfied so he stays quiet since if you're happy, he's happy (he desperately wants to be in the plushy's place)

When you playfully kiss the plush though, that rule no longer applies. After all, his rightful spot is in your arms🫠

He nudges you. "Put the stuffed animal away."

"You sound angry." You smirk and kiss the plush again, knowing he's probably annoyed about that

without another word, he pulls the plushy out of your hands and settles down in its place

"I am a much better than that object. Just so you know." he smiled smugly, expecting a kiss on the cheek just like you gave to the plushie earlier

you kissed him on the lips instead just to see his eyes widen and his face go red ofc 😏

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Leona Kingscholar

basically, it is NOT happening

"hell no." is the only thing he says before ripping the poor plushie out of your arms and chucking it across the room

like actually how DARE you try to replace him with a plushie

"Why would you do that?" You pouted at him, looking at the now discarded plushy from the bed🤕

"You know damn well why." He huffed, laying down on top of you without warning which tends to be a habit of his

"Because that's my spot, got it?" He answered for you. clearly you forgot😒

"Uhhh, right." you answered after a short pause...

"I won't remind you next time." he sounded rlly annoyed. it's kinda funny how worked up he got over a plushy replacing him 🤭

this also means he won't let you get up for like.... atleast 2 hours to atone for your sins

moral of the story: don't do this again unless you want a ripped up plushie and a pissed off lion man😠

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Idia Shroud

"This is so unfair. Even worse than an OP boss. " he sighed dramatically, laying down besides you and pouting at the sight og a huge plushie in your arms

"pick up the sock if you have enough energy to complain." you turned away from him, still annoyed with him

being the epic gamer he is (😎💯), he discarded one of his socks in the middle of his room and didn't feel like picking it up later even after you told him to

...which ended with you refusing to cuddle with him until he does pick up the sock

after a short while of very awkward silence...

he groaned in annoyance, begrudgingly getting up and finally picking up the sock, then leaving the room to put it in the wash

you smirked victoriously, placing the plushie away as promised and letting him hug you instead

"The things you make me do, smh." he sighed, relaxing into you 😒

"Picking up a singular sock?" you teased him, hugging him back

He didn't reply so that means it's your victory 😝

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Vil Schoenheit

this is an unforgivable offense, just because you had a little disagreement earlier doesn't mean you can just replace him with a plushie😠

love transcends disagreements, after all

does not help at all that the plushie's cute round face reminds him of a certain thorn in his side named Neige LeBlanche😒

he sighs, "I may have been too harsh back there."

your only reply is an annoyed huff and you hug the plushie tighter which makes one of those anime veins pop up on his face 💢

he takes a deep breath "It was not my intention to hurt your... sensibilities." he's trying babe, he's really trying

You don't reply for a moment...

"Ugh." you throw the plushie away and hug him tightly "This doesn't mean I forgive you, just for the record."

"I still stand by my opinion too, just worded less harshly." he gently puts an arm around you, stroking your back

it was only a matter of time until you gave up with your stubborn pettiness, soon you'll forgive him too, he'll make sure of that 😌

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ Lilia Vanrouge

He's actually surprisingly chill about it i feel like

He wouldn't get annoyed or be jealous per se, he'd just get a little sad it's not him you're hugging😔

he's there, you know? there's no need for a plushie...

"Am I not satisfactory enough?" He asks half playfully half seriously

"In what sense?" you totally knew what he meant but just wanted to tease him back

"Hey, isn't this supposed to be the other way around?" he smiled at you, immediately knowing what you were playing at

"Hahaha, you know me too well." you kiss his cheek, yet you still don't let go of the plushie which makes him pout

"I see you have found yourself a new lover." his eyes travel to the plushie for a moment, the betrayal is real😔🙏🏻

"You got a problem with him?" you raised a brow 🤨

"A little." he hugged you from the back, getting comfy

"Okay fine, maybe my ex is the better one after all." you let go of the plushie and turned around to hug him back 💗

[feyascorner]

Astarion would never admit it, but the charming lines he uses as a constant attempt to seduce you are not all his own.

He’s talented, he knows, at coming up with the heart skipping lines, describing in detail the massive amount of so-called ‘adoration’ he says he can give. He knows how to flirt, and he knows even better that despite the way you roll your eyes, he’s starting to wedge his way into your heart.

But sooner or later, ideas come to an end. And he’s starting to think you’re incapable of falling in love if he’s used all his lines and you still haven’t approached him. Perhaps you just don’t do romance. But hope wavers. Why he’s so adamant on wrapping you of all companions around his finger, he doesn’t know. He knows you’re the most difficult to seduce, yet he can’t help himself.

You’re almost like a drug to him.

So, unable to quit, he turns to his books. They’re sappy romances, and many of the lines even manage to make him scrunch his nose, scoffing at the sheer disbelief of how unrealistic some of the scenarios are. But hours upon hours later, he picks out some of the most upfront lines, because he’s sure you’ll just ignore him otherwise.

He knows you have little interest in romance, but he wants to entice you. He wants to be good enough for you to look at him.

“I must confess that the moment I laid eyes on you, everything in my body and soul told me you were the one.”

You stare at him, eyes lidded and barely fazed. Puzzled, he has no choice but to continue.

“My heart beats terribly, my beloved, whenever I see you bathing in the glory of the sun. My breath quickens, but vanishes when you get a step closer. My very existence, it seems, is meant to yearn for you,” he rattles off the lines of the book, as enticingly as he can, with eyes so seductive that they almost appear to glow. “Your beauty is unmatched with any other. If you asked, I would die—“

“—a million times in the thorns adorning my own desire,” you cut in, and his eyes widen. “The skies could fall and I would use my bloodied body to hold you up again, against the starry nights as a star gleaming brightest in its competition.”

As you finish the line, he blinks, completely and utterly confused. “How did you-“

“It’s my favorite book,” you confess sheepishly.

Astarion, for the first time, sees you as you are. He sees you as the being who yearns for love, just as a young maiden would yearn for their prince—perhaps even more innocent. He’s read you completely wrong, and he feels his throat close up. “It’s…it’s a childish one.”

Your cheeks burn, and he thinks you almost look cute. He rips away from the thoughts though, appalled at what he just considered. “I think it’s romantic.”

“No kind of love is so ideal.”

And while your face falls, you lift your head to look at him with squinted eyes. “…next time, just make your own lines—-or, at least, don’t choose ones that don’t fit you.”

“Don’t fit me? How so?”

“I doubt we would’ve fallen in love at first sight. You had a knife to my throat.”

“A loving knife.”

You stifle a laugh, and he swears he can’t take his eyes off of you. “Well…if you want, I have other books in my tent if you want to see…I have a few you might like, or at least, help.”

He just stares at you, only realizing moments later that you were awaiting an answer. “Ah, of course, darling. I’d love to accompany you. Perhaps I’ll learn a new line or two, though I doubt any writing has as much charisma as myself.”

You smile softly, nodding. “Okay then. Come over tonight after dinner, and I’ll show you.”

And as you walk away, he thinks that rather than him doing the charming and you falling irrevocably in love with him as it should have gone, your interaction has left him charmed instead.

It seems the romance novels are more than just effective at their jobs.

[lunarlando]

girl dad lando doing his babygirl's hair (she has his curls for sure hehe)!! he struggles a little but does a decent job at the end ~ maybe following a tutorial video or wifey is guiding him but creative freedom to you ❤️

so cute, thanks for the request! x

feel free to request more :)

“You’re in charge of one thing before we have to leave for brunch with your family.” 

Lando glances up from where he's laid out on the carpet tickling a wildly giggling Estelle to see you with your hands on your hips. 

You’re still one of the many shirts of his that you’ve resorted to using as pajamas since your currently seven month pregnant belly has popped, and you’re looking at him very pointedly, but he still smiles fondly at the sight of you. It’s just an unconscious thing that his face does, that it’s been doing since the day he met you. 

“Mama!” Estelle squeals, pointing at you excitedly. 

“Hi, my darling!” You wiggle your fingers at her, beaming at your little girl with enthusiasm.

“What’ve you got for me, babe?” 

“Be the best husband ever and do your daughter’s hair.” 

“Pretty sure I already am the best husband ever, but alright. Reckon her hair looks just fine the way it is, don’t you think?” He aims a sideways glance towards the toddler. Estelle’s hair is an exact replica of her father’s, tight curls that like to do whatever they want, as evident by the tornado of brown framing her chubby cheeks at the moment. Lando smacks his lips together, bobbing his head understandingly. “Yeah, okay, I’ll try my best.” 

“Thank you, love.” 

He scoops Estelle off the floor with an over-exaggerated grunt, climbing to his feet with her slung over his shoulder the way she always loves to be held by him. She shakes with peals of cute toddler giggles, patting him on the back surprisingly firm for a one year old, making him groan. “Woah, you’re getting so big and strong, Stell! C'mon, let’s go do your hair.” 

You press a grateful kiss to his cheek as he passes you, booping Estelle’s nose playfully before they make their way down the hall to the bathroom. 

Lando sets Estelle down on the bathroom counter, squinting at the items you’ve left next to the sink for him. A few combs, a small brush, a tiny water mister thing that he has no idea what to do with. 

As if you sense he’s confused, you call from the bedroom, “D’you need some help getting started?” 

“No, no. I’ve got this,” He calls back, grabbing a comb off the counter. “Dada’s got this, doesn’t he, lovebug?” 

Estelle is too preoccupied with looking at herself in the mirror to hear him, though if she did, she probably would’ve said no. He has no idea how to do her hair. Sure, he knows how to do his own hair (barely), and hers is similar to his, but it’s different. 

He pulls up the photo album he’s got on his phone of pictures of Estelle—ones he’s taken, ones you’ve sent him whilst he was away—hoping one of them will help him draw inspiration for today’s look. 

One that particularly catches his eye is a photo from the mini holiday you all took during summer break a few months ago, where Estelle’s springy curls are pulled into two bunches towards the top of her head. From what he remembers, those bunches quickly ended up smeared with applesauce, but they were adorable while they lasted. 

“Think this might be the one, how ‘bout you?” Lando turns the phone towards Estelle, showing her the photo. She aims a gummy smile at him, wiggling around happily. “Yeah, s’cute, innit? Alright, here we go.”

—

“Babe, would you c’mere for a second?” 

Lando’s voice rings out from the bathroom after twenty minutes of silence, save for the occasional giggle. You’re all done getting ready, and as much as you want to pop your head in to see what’s happening, you’ll give your husband the benefit of the doubt. You pad down the hallway as fast as your pregnancy waddle will let you, not knowing what to expect. 

“How’s it going in here, my loves?” 

Lando stands back with his hands propped on his hips, head tilted. “I think I did pretty decent, no?” 

Estelle’s got two tiny sort of space buns on her head, a little messy, but better than you were expecting, given Lando’s inexperience. She leans in your direction upon laying eyes on you, making grabby hands at you until you scoop her up. You shift her in your arms so she can see herself in the large mirror. 

“Look, baby! Who’s that over there?” You coo encouragingly, pointing at her in the mirror with a big smile. Estelle mumbles something unintelligible, patting herself on the chest happily. “That’s right, it’s you! Dada did a fantastic job with your hair, didn’t he? You look so cute!” 

Lando tosses the comb he’s holding behind his back and up over his shoulder, catching it and pretending to run it through his own curls in one smooth motion. “Call me Stell’s personal professional hairstylist.” 

He’s serious about it too, giving a straight face until you manage to come up with a response. 

“Is the racing not working out for you? Had to find another job?” You joke, chuckling lightly. He scoffs, bumping your hip with his. You reach up to give him a kiss on the cheek, then hold Estelle up too. “Give dada a kiss?” 

Estelle knows the word kiss very well. Execution, not so much, but she tries her best as she plants what has to be the world’s wettest kiss to Lando’s cheek too. A younger Lando might’ve wiped the slobber away immediately, but dad Lando has no problem with it. He’s changed a lot since his younger days, especially since becoming a first time parent. 

You’re both still navigating that journey together, but you’ll have a year and then some more experience once baby girl number two makes her arrival in t-minus two months time. But for now, you’ll cherish every moment with Estelle before your focus is split between two kids. 

“Oh, thank you for the kiss, lovebug!” Lando chirps, booping her nose gently. “Usually I’d charge top dollar for a mint hairdo like this, but I’ll take that as payment since you’re so cute. You get it from your mum, don’t ya?” 

“I dunno about that,” You hum, leaning into him. “Her dad’s pretty cute too.” 

You don’t have it in you to tell him one of Estelle’s bunches sits higher than the other, not when he’s smiling down so proudly at the two of you like you’re his world.

[cherrychilli]

18+ Eddie Munson x f! reader, established relationship, PIV sex, unprotected sex, semi- public sex, mirror sex Summary: Feeling needy at a party Eddie's taken you to in order to deal to the attendees, you steal him away and give him a different kind of show by making out with a woman to excite him. The woman? yourself. WC:1.8K

A/N: Was I drunk when I came up with this? yup. Was I drunk when I sat down and wrote it? yupx2. Am I drunk right now? honey, what do you think? anyway, enjoy!

"Show me"

He stares you down in that way that makes the guest bathroom feel much smaller than it actually was, like there might not even be enough air for the both of you to occupy it at the same time with the way he keeps stealing your breath.

You could still hear the music echo as it continued to blare outside, the beer you'd downed to give yourself the courage to whisper into Eddie's ear in the first place now sloshing around inside your belly, adding to the intensity of having his eyes roving all over you.

It all began an hour into Todd Henley's party, fed up of all the drunken bodies swaying around as they bumped right into you without apology before they passed by on unsteady legs.

But what irked you the most was that half the crowd had been spending more time with your boyfriend than you were able to all night, all of them handing him crumpled dollars in exchange for little baggies and whatever else he could fit in his pockets to keep the partygoers' spirits high.

You couldn't take it for very much longer though. Unable to help yourself, you sprang into action just before Todd himself could attempt to approach Eddie, cutting in front of the birthday boy, entirely uncaring of the scowl that twisted Todd's lips because Eddie was all you could think about. And you let the latter know as much.

"I need you" you'd whined as you'd wrapped yourself around Eddie's arm when you pull him towards a lonelier corner of the room, all sweet and clingy and then a little more quietly; "watching you made me so wet".

As you'd expected, he's quick to grin at you when he takes your hand. Gently he led you through the crowd, even turning down a few potential customers like Todd who'd tried to approach Eddie with cash in hand, a quick but firm "not now" grunted at them over the music.

It made your hopes rise, growing giddy, thinking he'd take you back to his van to fool around, away from the rest of the party only to end up pouting when he'd pulls you into a vacant guest bathroom instead.

"Go on. Show me", he'd repeated again, still soft and patient with you, standing tall over you as you grow so pliant under his stare, giving in easily as you reach under your dress to pull your panties down to your mid thighs.

He observes closely as you part your legs as much as your underwear will allow, showing off the collection of slick sitting warm and wet on the thin red cotton.

Eddie whistles low as he sees it. "Looks serious", he mused, pressing his index finger into the middle of your panties. He pulls his damp finger back, rubbing it against his thumb and pulling them apart to watch a clear web of your essence develop between them.

Hoping you've pleased him enough you try again.

"Can we, Teddie? Please?", you make sure to dial up the sweetness, all saccharine and cute as your plead.

But the thing is Eddie sometimes liked to have fun with you at times likes these, anything to work up his girl in good jest as another toothy grin develop on his face. "Sorry. Still got some dealing to do, angel face", he explains, looking the opposite of apologetic about it until he sees your face crumble and fall.

"Hey hey, I'm only teasing", he's quick to drop the suave, unwavering persona he treats his customers with for his usual rough around the edges kind of natural warmth, kissing your wobbling bottom lip hard for good measure. "You know I'd never turn you down", he makes sure to add, taking your hand and pressing it over his clothed erection to show you that he's telling the truth, feeling relieved when your lips spread into a smile.

"Tell you what. Since we're already in here why don't we just make use of it?", he offers with a cheesy grin and raising his brows in a way that comes off more cartoonish than it does suggestive but it makes you happy nonetheless. He chuckles at the way your whole face lights up at the suggestion because honestly, you couldn't wait any longer, reaching behind Eddie to lock the door shut.

~

You warmed up to getting led in here by Eddie even more when you noticed how the room smelled pleasantly of white jasmine thanks to a little sachet of air freshener hung up on the door handle. The living room where most of the party had congregated including yourself for that one hour was all booze and smoke and sweaty bodies barely guised by cheep perfume and cologne, and for that reason you were glad to be away from it all and not sifting through the thick crowd of people to get to the van.

But mostly, you liked getting handsy in Todd's guest bathroom because unlike Eddie's van, this had a mirror.

When you bend over the sink, you do so quickly and willingly, making Eddie huff out a small laugh through his nose. Carefully he gathers as much of your hair as he can in one hand, pulling on it to encourage you to keep your eyes on each other's reflections in front of you.

It's a filthy sight when you're made to look at yourself. Your tits are spilling out over the top of your dress, made so by when Eddie carefully pulled at it enough to free them, pinching, pulling and nipping at them before he settled you in this new position facing away from him.

With your panties drawn down a few inches above your knees, you could feel Eddie pull your dress up over your ass, eagerly pressing his turgid cock between your thighs once he's pried it out his boxers, the fat tip and length of his cock gliding between your folds and against your puffy clit perfectly.

Watching closely in the mirror, you memorize the little knit between his brows as he does it, a thrill coursing through you as his cheeks then blend from a light pink to a deep mauve while he humps between your thighs.

"Y' ready for me?" he huffs, his lips parted as he looks to your reflection for an answer.

"I'm ready. Please, Teddie. Been waiting all night", you whine back to him over your shoulder, catching the way the corner of his mouth picks up into a smirk.

He's inside you not long after that, stretching you with his thickness which even after all this time, still makes you hiss through the initial sting. But you've never complained about it, always inclined to moan with a wave of pleasure especially now when his hips connect with your ass, bouncing against him while he has both of his hands set firmly just below your waist to keep you steady.

It's not gentle the way Eddie pummels into you but it is a steady and easy climb towards your release. It's because he knows exactly what it takes to make you cum, just minutes of him thrusting into that spot inside you that only he can reach until your belly's winding tight and your toes start to curl inside your shoes.

"Eds, I'm close", you squeak, more a warning than anything else when he pulls at your hair again. Your knees are quick to wobble when he makes you watch yourself getting ruined by him, noticing the runny mascara down your cheeks and your pretty lipstick smudged near the corner of your mouth, bare tits bouncing with every thrust.

"God, you look so good. Go on baby, give yourself a kiss", he tells you through ragged grunts, his free hand landing a few spanks on your ass for good measure.

You do as you're told, leaning closer to your reflection, your lower stomach pressing against the sink in a way that in this position, makes it feel so much more intense with his cock still inside you.

Lips just centimeters away from the glass, the idea of making out with yourself didn't strike you as all that arousing at first, only going along with it because it was something Eddie had wanted and that was reason enough for you to oblige.

You begin by pressing your lips against the cold mirror, chaste at first until you see the desperation swirling behind your hooded eyes. You looked so utterly fucked out, lips parted and your tongue lolling out with a thin rivulet of drool dripping down to your chin. You liked it more than you could understand, especially with Eddie right behind you and in view too.

Finding yourself getting worked up the longer you keep at it, the fire burning inside you only burns bigger and brighter as you see Eddie's reflection while he keeps pumping into you, his bangs stuck to his forehead with a light sweat, his lips pink and full from his teeth biting down on it and the look he gives you when you eyes connect through the mirror.

"Y'like it don't you, doll?", he asks the obvious question just to see you squirm under him, his lips pulled back into a pleased smile as you muster up the strength to nod.

Your breath fogs up the mirror as you continue to pant through Eddie's thrusts, giving him a show as traces of your red lipstick are left behind from your kisses, growing more aroused at the sight of yourself taking Eddie's cock like this.

It's sloppy and oh so perfectly dirty. Eddie watches in amazement as you tongue at your own reflection, your swollen lips leaving traces of spit all over the mirror, uncaring if Todd or his family find the muddled mess of lipstick on their mirror by tomorrow.

"That's it. You see how pretty you look like this? can't help it can you? Good girl. Use your tongue a bit more for me, yeah? fucking perfect..."

It's different being fucked like this, half of you unsure of which reflection you ought to keep your eyes fixed on as you near your climax, deciding to switch from one to the other the closer you get.

Sighing and whimpering underneath Eddie, you mean to warn him just before you tipped over the edge but with your mouth so busy as you press one last kiss against the glass, Eddie can tell that you're cumming when you squeeze your walls around his cock sporadically, crying his name out with your cheek pressed against the once clean glass.

The sight of you all spent and the feeling of you clamping down on him triggers his own orgasm, creamy white spurts filling you up between your legs while he bites down on your shoulder, grunting so deeply by your ear as he thrusts through the final wave that overcomes him.

"You did so well, baby", he groans into your clammy skin during your mutual comedown, teeth grazing the place where he'd bitten down on you as you look up to smile at him lazily through the mirror. He admires you fondly through the mirror, one hand rubbing your back.

"Also", he pats his jacket pocket while he's still inside you. "Remind me to give Todd one on the house", he finishes and the both of you share a laugh, looking over the mess on the counter top and mirror as a result of your time together.

Yeah. Todd's definitely entitled to a freebie. That's for sure.

[aurora-starwars]

When Something Gets Broken, It Can Be Fixed

Pairing: Clarisse La Rue x Hecate daughter!reader

Summary: When Clarisse breaks her spear, your there to fix it

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Not proof read, not very good, oh well. Just fluff and very slight angst.

Request by @magicalengineerdonut:

I have a request for Clarisse. The reader could be a daughter of Hecate and it takes place during capture the flag and clarisse’s spear breaks and reader comforts her and the next day she comes back to clarisse with her spear that reader fixed and it ends with a cute moment between them

A/n: Thank you for requesting! I hope you like it! I am very excited to be getting into the PJO fandom. My friends have been raving about if for years! I am on the third book right now and I love the series so far. And I love Dior. Anyway, I would love to write more for this girl! So please request!

Masterlist

As the sun rose, it cast a soft, golden glow over Camp Half-Blood, signalling the start of another bustling day. The day of 'capture the flag' always stirred up excitement and anticipation among the campers, transforming the usually tranquil camp into a hive of activity.

It was a day that held great significance within the camp's traditions, and the palpable hustle and bustle was a testament to its importance. [Name] walked from her cabin to the training grounds in hopes to get a few more minutes to go over some defensive positions.

However, her contemplative silence was abruptly shattered by the commanding bark of instructions echoing from a voice she recognized all too well. The words were harsh, direct, and specific, as the head of the Ares cabin usually was. [Name] smiled at the sound of Clarisse La Rue’s pointed yelling, her direct and impersonal insults at the red team were a sign of her good mood.

If that was not enough of a sign, Clarisse looked over at [Name] when she finished speaking and smiled. It was a slight smile, [Name] will admit, but she saw it.

[Name] knew Clarisse very well. There was little that [Name] didn’t know about the girl at this point. And [Name] knew Clarisse had a plan.

“Where are you off to?” Clarisse asked, sauntering over as her hair, in a ponytail, swung behind her. [Name] always thought she was a sight to behold.

“Just on my way to the training grounds, care to join?” [Name] asked, already starting to make her way to the grounds, Clarisse falling into step beside her.

[Name] watched Clarisse face closely as they walked, hoping the girl might give up what she was thinking about. What she was planning.

When she didn’t say anything, [Name] took matters into her own hands.

“What are you planning?” [Name] smirked, her voice playful as watched Clarisse’s mouth twitch, the corners of her mouth turning upward ever so slightly. It looked like she was trying not to smile.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing, just planning on winning,” Clarisse smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. Something twinkled in them though, something like mischief…

“And this could have nothing to do with our new camper? The one kicked your ass in the washroom?” There was a careful teasing in [Name]’s voice, she was determined to get her point across but she was not willing to feel the force of Clarisse La Rue’s rage.

Clarisse only rolls her eyes. She scoffs and looks away. [Name] sniffles a giggle at vision of Clarisse, soaked in toilet water, running out of the washroom like a wet puppy. Clarisse abruptly stops and turns to [Name], bringing her thoughts from Clarisse to the reason she was there, the defensive positions. ”You know your job. I know you will do well,” Clarisse puts simply, her face remaining stoic, but her eyes betray her, conveying the fondness she tries so hard to hide.

[Name] nods as she walks away.

The game started as usual, the only difference was the direction Clarisse and some of her siblings ran, which [Name] thought was strange but knew not to question Clarisse about these things. The game moved quickly at the start, everyone running off into a different direction, [Name] doing the same. But after running a little further in the forest, she found her spot not far from the Red flag. There were only a few Ares kids protecting the Flag a few metres away but other than that, the forest was surprisingly empty. A stark contrast to a few minutes prior. There, [Name] took her stand, waiting for the blue team to come barreling in. The young Athena girl on the blue team had a brilliant plan for her to just run in with her invisibility cap and just take the flag. A plan she has used before, Clarisse was hoping that this time [Name]’s magic could somehow make it so the red team could actually see the young girl.

[Name] figured she could just make a small spell to not let magical items/gifts go past a barrier. It wasn’t strong and it would only work once, but it was better than nothing. Unfortunately, the spell could only protect the front of the flag, which left the back completely defenceless.

And, of course, Annabeth Chase would know that.

[Name] breaks out into a run after the floating red flag watching as the blue team breaks out into cheers as they see the flag floating quickly in their direction. [Name] slows down to a jog, knowing that if the Are’s kids couldn’t keep up with them, they had already won. And a well-deserved win at that. She could almost smile at the fact but as she comes up to the beach she hears the ear piercing scream of Clarisse. [Name] rushes in as Clarisse attempts to take the head off the new twelve year old. Grabbing her shoulders, [Name] pulls her away from the terrified boy. [Name]’s eyes lock on the broken spear on the floor as she walks Clarisse out and tries not to wince.

Her spear, her gift from her dad.

Turning Clarisse, [Name] gets a good look at her face. Clarisse’s face is rigid with anger, unmoving and unsurprisingly shocked, her eyes lock with [Name]’s. With her hands on Clarisse’s shoulders, she could feel the heavy breaths Clarisse was trying to take.

“Clarisse.”

“M-m…” She started quietly, her brows shifting from turned down to turned up and back again. Her eyes looking just past the daughter of Hecate in front of her, unfocused.

“Clarisse,” [Name] calls again.

“My… My spear,” Clarisse pants, her fists tightening around nothing.

“Clarisse!” [Name] calls louder, moving her hands from the Are’s girl’s shoulders to cup her face.

Clarisse finally snaps out of it, her eyes falling on the girl in front of her, her shoulders fall and she takes a deep breath.

“Oh Clarisse, I am so sorry,” [Name] brings her into a hug, one arm wrapped around the bigger girl and one holding her head, being careful of her curls.

She tucks her head into [Name]’s neck and takes a deep breath, when she lets it out her grip on the Hecate girl tightens, but her shoulders relax.

“Okay, love. Let’s get you back to your cabin,” [Name] whispers, gently caressing the strong girl’s face, finding that her hand comes back slightly damp, and [Name] knows its not from sweat.

The next afternoon, Clarisse was simmering moping on a bench by the training grounds when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

Clarisse whipped around, standing up quickly, arms crossed, “What?! Oh, it’s just you.”

“Just me,” [Name] repeats, smile on her face.

Her smile causes Clarisse to drop her accusatory glare in favour of a curious head tilt.

“Where were you all day?”

[Name] shrugs, “Around, why? Missed me?”

Clarisse just pouts, brows furrowed, her face somewhere between annoyed and amused.

“Aww, was spending last night in my arms not enough for big, strong, Clarisse?” [Name] giggles, eyes watching the girl before her with fondness. Clarisse was always easy to read.

Clarisse remained silent, but her eyes screamed, ‘yes, it was not enough���.

“Well, don’t you worry. I am here now, and I brought a gift. Hopefully this makes you feel better,” [Name] pulls out Clarisse’s spear—completely fixed as if it hadn’t been broken to begin with— from behind her back, that she was somehow able to conceal.

Clarisse’s eyes blow wide, her arms dropping along with her jaw. She quickly takes the spear from [Name]’s hands, examining it. Feeling how the weight feels in her hands.

“How did you do this,” She questions, still looking at the spear with amazement.

[Name] shrugs, “I may not be a daughter of Hephaestus, but being the daughter of Goddess of witchcraft and sorcery has its benefits when it comes to magical artifacts.”

Clarisse puts the spear on the bench carefully before turning her attention to [Name], taking her face into her hands.

“You are the most beautiful, wonderful, talented, gorgeous,” she kisses [Name] passionately, pulling her closer, before parting again. “-adorable, skilled girl I have ever met.”

She connects their lips again, this time softer, gentler, lovingly.

“You know that?” she questions, looking into [Name]’s eyes.

[Name] giggles, “So, you like it?”

“Yes, dummy,” she kisses her again, a big smile evident as she presses her lips to [Name].

“Now it is time to wave my hot girl and my awesome spear in that little twerps face.”

Master-list

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I love you! <3333 Feel free to request! Check out my request guidelines, it might make it easier! <333333

[eluxcastar]

Hello Riri! :]

I'm in my platonic harbingers with a child reader era, and you're one of the few people I follow who writes platonic stuff on an occasion. So here's my request!

Here's the small storyline I have. Reader is the child of a god (you're free to decide what they are the god of, if you want) who is extremely well known around Tevyat, and puts on a very intimidating and serious presence. Yet one unfortunate day, the readers parent dies, so now they have to take on their legacy at a too young of age. Making them grow up out of their childhood much faster and pressuring them into becoming exactly like their parent. Cold, intimidating, and serious.

And out of all the mortals the reader has met, the harbingers are who they find comfort in. They could be lecturing some other mortal one minute, and the next minute, they see one of the harbingers. They're grabbing them by the hands, bouncing on their tip toes with a bright smile.

(Hope you're having a good day! And please don't overwork yourself<3)

Fatui harbingers with a child god

── ୨୧：fatui harbingers & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: child reader taking over as archon and basically immediately proving why child rulers are a bad idea but it's ok because it's cute and endearing

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, god reader, signora might be ooc tbh I struggled to think for her, not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 3k

this has been in my inbox for some time, even though I've really wanted to do it for ages. I'm sorry honey it took me a while to get to it. the description of their parent at least to me was giving mr zhongli when he was morax and I immediately thought of the ramifications of him faking his death in the rite of descension which makes me wanna write something else BUT THAT'S FOR LATER

I meant to post this four and a half hours ago but suddenly it was like twice the length I thought it would be and uh yeah that was not the plan but enjoy the food served hot and fresh

There has hardly been a moment of grief since you were orphaned, and the people are turning to you for their next overseer. You, small, fragile, and ill-prepared, are the one they wish to see take up the pillar left in your father's wake. You weren't ready, and maybe you never would've been, embraced by the caring side of your well and truly mellowed-out father and cherished by the people as the child of the nation.

Your transition from people's treasure to people's guide was jarring, and you're still not used to it. You move with what pleases and hide what brings deep frowns and disappointed eyes. The people no longer want a child but a god. They want their pride, once a god who had walked by their side for millennia, now the passing generation of a god as the mantle shifts to his blood.

It's hard not to notice what they make you, now the spitting image of your father, though you can only parrot his earned wisdom and show a brave face to keep the nation from despair.

You have but a single ally—the Tsaritsa—someone whose messengers approached you to ask for your father's gnosis and who gladly agreed to offer you an invitation to Snezhnaya at your request to speak to her personally, quite honestly not knowing how to say that you frankly didn't know what to do with the gnosis. Though you could keep it, you're unsure how to harness its power, wield it, or even control it. Your father was strong, you're not.

She is an intimidating presence but gentle. She knew of your father for as long as she had been an archon—though they weren't on good terms toward the end—perhaps you could understand her more than he would. He was the original archon in his seat, but you are an inheritor like her. In her lands, you are the careful balance of both a god and a child, spoken to with the grace of a higher power but the softness that is befitting to a young child.

It is as you are.

Tartaglia is the first to seek a test of your strength, though you wish not to hurt him and convince him to wait. So long as the answer is someday, he allows you to let him down easily and settles at indulging your requests to join the snowball fight you noticed him having. You want to join in, fidgeting and with your gaze flickering between the smiling children and your feet. You push away your every want to join them and play as well, but remind yourself of the people who would scorn you. It's unfitting for a god to behave like an immature child, you remind yourself, but every hope of remaining steadfast to that is gone as Tartaglia notices you watching.

His offer is merely that—an offer. He speaks with a snowball forming in his hands as he approaches, his thick coat engulfing his form and the red scarf bundled around his neck to keep him warm. You have to look up to meet his eyes, playful and perhaps a little mischievous. Tartaglia holds the snowball out to you as if it were his peace offering.

"You look like you want to join the fun. Care to throw a snowball or two with us?"

"May I?"

And with that, you take his offering.

Pantalone's musings and the intentions of his gifts are not beyond you. He means to win you over and perhaps spoil you a little. It is coddling, and you notice it. He wants what he wants, and he will get it out of you, but it is also not beyond him to recognise that you are...naïve, endearingly. Pantalone can lavish you in fine silks all he wants, but you have received many offerings, so they don't particularly sway you as he had hoped, and he moves on. Your true weakness lies in children's toys, the many things you have been denied since you have been forced to steel yourself. The smile that twitches at the corners of your lips as he presents you with the first is enough to confirm it.

Toys are made for children; though you try to deny it, you are still a child at heart. Gifting a child a toy they will try to pretend they don't cherish but will protect with their life is perhaps the quickest way to earn their favour. He watches as you fiddle with the arms of the plush cat when you think nobody is looking, asking it questions and then responding to yourself in an all-too-dedicated voice you put on for this cat. 

"Oh, Mr Cat, would you like some borscht too? It's very good."

"Yes, please, I would love to try some!"

Pantalone admittedly can't deny that you come with your own charms.

Signora spoils you what many of your aids have tried to before you, the chance to fix your hair, marvel at a pretty lady and wish you were half as sophisticated as her. She is your role model, second only to the Tsaritsa. She is beautiful and elegant and willing to teach you her ways as long as you continue to show up as cute as you are. Fix your posture a bit, head up, and walk everywhere with purpose, even if there isn't one. She has mastered the art, and you want it. Pantalone has his own appeal, a sophisticated man who learned through blood, sweat and tears, but there is something so distinct about Signora that makes you run to her at your first problem of presentation.

Like your mother, she will take you by the hand, lead you to a mirror, straighten your back, tilt your head up by the chin, and tell you to look at yourself now. Each time, you stare dumbly in awe of her reflection standing behind you, observing you like something precious, and it fills you with the confidence you need to heed her advice. It doesn't occur to you that Signora looks at you that way only because she thinks you're cute in your efforts, but too much like a child who got into their mother's perfume to be taken seriously.

"How others see you is important. Do you think they want to see their god with their back slouched and head hung? Hold your gaze above the people."

"It's-- well, different. I think I just look tense."

Sandrone has also come to realise that your weakness lies in toys, though she will not admit to aiding and abetting Pantalone's endeavours to find you a plushie. Instead, she shows you Katheryne. You have seen Katheryne before; you are sure of that, and that is only confirmed as Sandrone informs you that she exists in every branch of the Adventurers' Guild, including the one in your homeland. Katheryne is your access to knowledge, and the Northland Bank is your connection to Snezhnaya. Sandrone offers you comfort, the path that will lead you back to where help is and where you can go when you become overwhelmed by responsibility.

She likes your company, a reluctant admission that does not come cheap as she bargains your silence with the knowledge that she's aware of your liking for your cat toy. The embarrassment that overwhelms you is palpable until she offers you her workshop to play when your quarters are so overcrowded by your aids. You couldn't come to Snezhnaya alone for your safety, and it leaves you stranded without a moment of peace at times.

"Really?...and I can just, stay here? For as long as I want?"

"Isn't that what was offered to you?"

"Well...yes, thank you."

Scaramouche, whom you meet adjacent to Sandrone, is ill-tempered in the presence of others but a tad nicer when it comes to you. He does not drop his rough-around-the-edges personality to melt his heart out of his chest for you, but you manage to strike the perfect cord in his to gain liberties others cannot, having him share sweets with you. You learned at one point he really doesn't like them, leading you to wonder why they suddenly appeared ready and available for you to stuff your pockets full and snack on them when nobody's looking. You earn his favour through endearment and talk to him like he's normal because he is.

He is the child of a god, though in a different capacity to you. He was not loved quite so dearly by his mother and cannot share with you the pain of losing someone who treasured you. He was merely abandoned. There is the vague part of you that shuns the idea his softness is pity, sympathy even, as you're stuck stumbling through the world alone. It is all too familiar to him, and if candy will make you smile at him so cheerfully and hug him so tightly, then candy is a simple trade-off.

"Are you sure you don't want any? These are yours."

"Sickly sweet things make me feel like my teeth are fusing together. You can have them."

Pulcinella reminds you of home, the trinkets gathered on a whim that he keeps, the years showing through the rooms dedicated to him as you notice things your father told you of in stories. These are stories that Pulcinella will start off on without prompting, indulging your curiosity before you even lowered your guard enough to show it and casually enough that you slowly ask more. Every item holds a story: what it is, how he obtained it, why he kept it, who it was for. You see many such things around what used to be your house, but you don't know all of the stories, treasuring the ones you remember.

Pulcinella doesn't recall every story either, as some of your pointing and questioning is met with remarks of how long it has been. It is the only thing you feel you share with him, a living space filled to the brim with memories. Many of your trinkets don't belong to you, but his do, and it's nice to hear someone tell you stories again as he lets you pick from the collection of sweets in your pockets to eat when it suits your fancy.

"What about this? It reminds me of a lumenstone, the ones from the chasm."

"It is, and it came from Liyue when I asked that one of my subordinates bring it back for me. You must have a fine eye for these things."

"Not really, only lumenstone and noctilucous jade glow like this."

Arlecchino's offering to you is company, and plenty of it. Children who are so far removed from the stretch of news beyond the issues of the Steambird they manage to get their hands on that they wouldn't know your face from a haggler on the street. Father brought a guest to play with, and that's what matters as they induct you into their games, teach you the rules, and regard you exactly as they regard every other child their age. You are given the choice to simply become nobody, and you love it. Though you were once only a child, you were still the child of a god, and everyone knew it. Now, you elicit excitement only because someone new enters their lives, someone to learn about and befriend, merely a guest their father brought them.

Despite her sharp exterior, she is sweeter to you than you expected. You thought Arlecchino might be scarier, meaner, harsher, but she softens when she speaks to you. It is not with the cutthroat demeanour she holds speaking to the Harbingers and lacks a degree of the stern attitude she fronts to the children. You are not the average child, and it's necessary to treat you with some degree of respect, but you notice she's gentler with you than others, and it almost makes you feel special.

Columbina has sung you to sleep many times during your stay; her voice is sweet and more than enough to calm you. You let her hold your cat plush and dance with you in the hallways with the excuse you need knowledge of these things should you aspire toward being an archon, even if spinning around until you fall on the floor from dizziness and burst out laughing is a tad non-traditional. Columbina can see things others can't notice more than the human eye is capable of, and you'd rather not know what that's like. Something in the way she speaks tells you that it's hardly adjacent to anything human, closer to you, but still quite far off. It's interesting to hear the strange things humans have no business knowing.

Your hand is grasped in Columbina's, her fingers holding you tenderly. Her eyes are partly obscured beneath the lattice of a mask she wears. You're not sure if you could really call it a mask. She steps back, tugging you with her, and spins you in time with the steps she takes, each accompanied by a shift that forces you to keep up with where she moves, her other hand on your shoulder. It is the closest you will get to proper dancing, though merely a fool's waltz. You can't dance; being spun down a hallway while you struggle to match her movements feels much like you imagine a waltz would.

"It's not really proper dancing if we have no pattern to it."

"There is no such thing as proper dancing. If you'd prefer it, I could sing."

Dottore is someone you did not expect to be so open to the idea of you, and your assumptions were proven correct by his apprehension to engage with you. He is curt with you at best and avoidant at worst. You are a child filled with the yearning to touch everything that doesn't belong to you, desperate to hear too much about the things that don't concern you. You are young, needy, and with no concept of what is beyond you. Dottore's unique abundance of knowledge is appealing to you, however. He knows things your father did, many of which he didn't tell you, but Dottore will, so long as it gets you to sit still and stop interrupting him. You may be convinced you have pocketed your unnecessary emotions away, but he has seen you, and that is an insulting lie.

Your wants are written on your face plain as day, so long as people pay enough attention to you to care what you feel. He does not especially care, not for the child of a god, but it helps to know what you want to stick your nose in most. It helps to know how you benefit from him, and on luckier days, you might even catch him in a better mood when he is willing to indulge your interest in his knowledge. Your capacity to understand, let alone remember, hardly worries him.

"So you have clones of yourself? And they just...work for you?"

"Not exact clones—segments. They have wills of their own and use them as they see fit."

Capitano is strong, a man of few words, and he does not abhor your presence quite so strongly, nor does he indulge your more childish desires. What you get from Capitano is respect, the highest honour you can get from his book in your eyes, and it comes from your perseverance. You're running around working so hard when you're so young, and you deserve a break sometimes. You deserve a quiet place to curl up in the corner with that cat he's caught you hiding under where no one can bother you, and maybe with a few sweets you always seem to have these days. That corner still does not exist, though he will find you one if you want it. 

You show no signs of slowing down, are energetic and eager and are far too committed to the act of being something you're not to listen to him when he tells you to rest. Gods must all be fickle. The most he can do for you is make sure you're safe and happy as you will be in your position, maybe wipe your hands of powdered sugar when you find pastries at the market you want and recklessly eat them without thinking of how you'll clean up short of wiping the remnants on your clothes, but you'll never do that as you are.

Pierro once made you nervous. He is a stern, serious man who never smiles. Pierro is steadfast in loyalty and never wavers, which is precisely what you have begun to aspire to be now that that is what has been asked of you. You could never hope to replicate the kind of dedication he has, and perhaps that is part of what sways you. Though you have become so comfortable behaving childishly around some people, you fear you may never be around him, whether because you fear his disapproval or yearn for his approval. Despite that, he is arguably who you trail around behind most, quiet, observing, trying to figure out how to copy and apply what he has to yourself.

It settles the quick realisation he reminds you most of what the people saw in your father. Someone like him is someone people envision fostering a nation to prosperity, and you fight your own subconscious to keep all of your slipping habits, making sure he never sees you sneaking candy, hiding your cat plush from him, refusing Tartaglia's every offer to play games around him. You're not sure why you think that will make him like you more, having long ago gained his favour, unable to notice the faint smiles and the conscious effort to make you believe he doesn't notice you out the window barreling snowballs at Tartaglia.

You are still a child at heart; he is just about the last person you can hope to hide that from.

[stariekis]

red tinted marks

🛋️ pairing : 엔하이픈 ot7 + gn!reader . genre : fluff . cw : tons of kisses ~

— synopsis : pretty boys covered in pretty kissy marks.

— notes : © idea from my own post ! it was supposed to be a jake one shot but i loved the idea way too much so ot7 version it is ~ hope you like it pls reposts and feedback are very much welcome ⭐. thank you for reading <3

heeseung :

oh he would be down as soon as your petition left your lips ... even though he seems like the type of guy who hates doing those "cheesy" trends he is way too down bad for you that he won't be able to say no. so there you are, leaving kiss marks on your boyfriend's face while he looks at you with the biggest eyes ever, admiring your features everytime you pulled away with a smirk on his face.

jay :

he would be more than happy, as soon as his girl is happy of course. when he sees you all excited with your red lipstick on, he couldn't say no and it was also a pretty cute idea he thought. you focused on his jawline, your favorite feature of him, going up to his cheeks and also leaving little pecks on his lips making him giggle a bit. moments like this are very precious to him, nothing better than spending time with his favorite girl.

jake :

puppy ikeu agenda is back ~ as i said in my post he would be the one asking you to do it, showing you the video and begging on his knees to recreate it ) : as soon as you said yes he was running to your room to grab one of your lipstick. grabbing your face in his hands he applied the red tint on you lips while biting his lower lip trying to contain his excitement. once you were ready he sat down and closed his eyes, letting out giggles everytime your lips brushed against his features. he was living a dream, feeling the happiest man alive.

sunghoon :

he would act roughly all the time, lips pressed into a thin line as you leave kisses all over his pretty face. in reality he was enjoying more than ever, goosebumps going up and down his body every time your lips touch his face. as the teaser he is he would turn his head to the side capturing you lips and kissing you softly, now his lips are also tinted in a reddish tone.

sunoo :

he wants to leave kisses on your face too!!! when you showed him some videos of couples doing that trend he told you that he wants to do that to you too 'you would look adorable baby please ~ ' he said begging you, and who are you to decline such a thing? so at the end both of you would have your faces covered in red kiss marks and his gallery full of pictures and videos of you both together.

jungwon :

giggling wonie is all i can think about. he would be giggling the whole time with his eyes closed focusing on the feeling of your lips all over his features. he would let you take tons of pictures of him right after so you can use one as your wallpaper. he would look so cute, his eyes shining, his natural bushy cheeks and his pretty features covered in kiss marks.

ni-ki :

he is a softie ) : he might be a little hesitant at first but he was actually waiting for you to ask him to do it. he played cool as if he wasn't the happiest boy ever at that moment. after leaving the first peck on his cheek his boxy smile would appear instantly, breaking his character completely. his hands resting on you hips and your trapping his face 'babe that tickles' he said, moving back a bit and letting out a soft laugh when he saw your lipstick all smeared.

[sissylittlefeather]

Heartbreak Hotel

A/N: Whaaaaaaat a smutless one-shot? Never have I ever lol. No, but really. This idea came to me and @ccab and I couldn't not write it. This is Elvis during the filming of King Creole and a very shy reader.

Warnings: kissing, an erection, some sexy thoughts, and a foot rub

Word count: ~2.7k

"Y-you want me to do what?" You hold your clipboard to your chest and shake your head nervously. Surely your boss isn't asking you to do what you think he is. You're not even sure how you ended up working on the set of King Creole anyway. Your father must've had something to do with it.

"Go to the hotel and bring Elvis back to the set. I know we told him we were done for the day but we really need him to try on his wardrobe for tomorrow and the costume people just finished it." You understand the logic behind the request. That's not the part that confuses you.

"But why m-me, sir?" You anxiously chew on your bottom lip. It's been hard enough for you to work here with Elvis wandering around. Walking up to him directly is about the last thing you want to do. It's not that you don't like him. Quite the opposite, in fact. You love him. But you've always been a little mousy and shy and unsure of yourself. The idea of talking to him makes you want to crawl into a hole.

"You're young and cute. This assignment is going to really piss him off. We figured you might soften the blow. He can't very well yell at you." You blink several times and your eyes go even wider. The fact that it won't just be Elvis, it'll be angry Elvis, really makes your heart race like a rabbit's.

"W-what if he won't come?"

"Not an option. Convince him. Now, just go." You consider quitting your job right then, but you know that's not realistic. Sighing deeply, you turn to walk from the small office.

"Y/n!"

"Yeah?"

"Clipboard."

"Oh... yeah..." You hand him the clipboard and cross your arms tightly on your chest.

"Y/n. Please try not to look like you're about to cry." You nod your head and try to rearrange your face, but you are about to cry.

******

Somehow, the next thing you know, you're in the lobby of one of the nicest hotels in New Orleans.

"Can you please call Mr. Presley down here? I-I-I need to speak to him." The receptionist nods and calls up to his room. You don't hear the conversation, too distracted by looking around at the fancy decor.

"Alright. I'll let her know." You turn back to the receptionist. "He says you can come on up. He's in the penthouse. Just push the button with the "p" on the elevator."

You stand there with your mouth hanging open and she turns away to do some other task.

No. He was supposed to come down, not you come up. You look at the elevators and swallow deeply. Then, you walk over and push the button.

Once you're on the elevator, it dawns on you that you're going to be walking into what is essentially his home. That thought hits you like a freight train and you feel like you're going to throw up or pass out or both. Just when you decide you're not getting out of the elevator, the doors slide open and there's a quiet ding. The room is carpeted and you see him sitting on a couch.

"Hey, honey, come on in." He hollers without moving. You feel like you're about to die, but you inch your way into the room anyway and the doors close behind you. He leans forward a little and gestures for you to walk towards him. "C'mon then, I won't bite."

You take a few steps into the room and then try to speak. All that comes out is a quiet squeak, though and you shake your head, frustrated with your own incompetence. He can tell you're struggling, so he stands up and walks towards you. That does not help. He's even taller, more attractive, and more intense up close than far away.

"What is it, honey? They send you to fire me or somethin'?" You look up at him and squeak again. He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear and strokes your cheek gently. "You're a shy little thing, ain'tcha?"

"They want you back on set." You breathe a sigh of relief that you were finally able to talk.

"Back on set? No, I'm home for the night." You blink a few times, not really sure how to respond as he shakes his head.

"Please..." It comes out of you as a whispered plea and you want to scream at how pathetic you sound. He smiles softly.

"Okay. But only because you're too damn sweet to say no to." He squeezes the top of your arm and then encourages you toward the elevator with his hand on the small of your back. You really hope he can't feel how sweaty you are as he touches you.

You get back on the elevator and he pushes the button for the lobby. The elevator begins its descent and you stand next to each other in silence. A breath of relaxation washes over you. It's almost over.

Then it happens.

Somewhere between floors 5 and 6 the elevator screeches to a grinding halt. It knocks you off balance enough for him to have to catch you in his arms, your hands on his chest to steady yourself.

"Woah, honey, you okay?" You look up at him frozen in fear. He holds you for a few seconds too long and then stands you back up. His hands stay on your upper arms and you swear it's like he doesn't want to stop touching you.

And he doesn't. He rather enjoyed the feeling of you pressed up against him, your eyes wide and seeking reassurance. But he can't just move in and kiss you like he normally does with other girls. You might actually pass out. So instead, he leans his back against the wall of the small elevator and tries to smile at you in the sweetest way possible.

"Do I make you nervous, honey?" You look over at the elevator buttons like pressing one might get you out of this nightmare, but probably not. "Nobody else here. You're gonna have to talk to me."

You reluctantly look up at him and try to breathe steadily. You're finally able to whisper a response.

"Yes." His face breaks into an amused smile.

"Why?"

"Have you met you?!" It comes rushing out of you before you can stop it.

"I'm not sure how to answer that, sweetheart."

"I mean... I'm sorry..."

"Don't apologize. I'm just not sure I know what you mean is all." For some reason, it's getting a little easier for you to talk to him.

"You're ridiculously famous. You have a presence. And you're unbelievably attr-" You stop yourself and look at the floor, blushing. He steps forward off the wall and tips your chin up, so that you have to look into his face.

"Unbelievably what?" Part of you wants to slap the cocky smirk right off his face, but you'd die before you did that. Finally, you squeak it out.

"Attractive." He steps forward again almost closing the gap between your bodies.

"You know, you're not so bad yourself."

"Gee, thanks."

"No, I'm serious, honey. I'd letcha eat crackers in my bed." Without thinking about it, you burst into a fit of giggles. "It wasn't that funny..."

"I'm sorry; it's just the image of me sitting in your bed eating crackers. Like that's what I'd be doing if I was in your bed." He runs his finger down the side of your face and moves just the smallest bit closer to you.

"What else would you be doing in my bed?" All of a sudden, you're not laughing anymore. Now you're thinking of all the things you might be doing and it makes you blush an even deeper red than you have before. Your heart is going so fast it feels like it might leap out of your chest. He senses your anxiety and backs up a little. "You don't have to answer that, honey. I'm sorry."

He's not used to how delicate you are. It's endearing. Like you need him to take care of you. It's a job that sounds better and better the longer he's on this elevator with you.

You nod and stay quiet, but you kind of miss how close he was to you. His presence, albeit intimidating at first, is comforting.

He turns and slides down the back wall to sit on the floor of the elevator. Then, he pats the floor beside himself. You decide there's not much else to do and he actually seems pretty harmless, so you sit down next to him on the floor and lean back against the wall. It feels good to sit down. You wore new shoes to work today and your feet have been killing you for hours. A small whimper falls from your lips as you try to stretch your feet a bit. You're dying to take the heels off, but you don't want to freak him out.

"What's wrong, honey?" He hears you whimper and his eyebrows come together with concern.

"Oh, nothing. My feet just hurt from these new shoes."

"Take 'em off."

"Really? You don't mind?" He chuckles a little.

"Not at all. There's no tellin' how long we might be stuck in here. Get comfortable." Normally, you'd never do such a thing but your feet do hurt really badly and he's right. You're trapped. You reach down and slowly pull the shoes off of your feet, wincing in pain. Your hose make it look like you have webbed feet, but you really don't care as you gingerly wiggle your toes. He watches you, dying to kiss you. You might be the cutest thing he's ever seen and your feet are so small and pretty.

"Do they hurt bad?"

"Yeah. I shouldn't have worn these today." You tap the shoes together in your hands. "I suppose beauty is pain, though."

He laughs and then an idea settles on him. He's not sure how you'll respond, but it's worth a try.

"You want me to rub 'em?" You look up at him suddenly for three reasons. First, you can't believe he said it. Second, it sounds amazing. And third, there's a hint of something in his voice that almost sounds like uncertainty.

"I couldn't let you do that."

"Why not? I really don't mind and what else are we doin' right now?" The vulnerability on his face melts you and you know you can't say no. You smile bashfully and turn to lean against the other wall and put your feet in his lap.

"Well, alright then. Thank you." He smiles a very natural and relaxed smile and then goes to work massaging one of your feet. You'd be lying if you said it didn't feel amazing. His hands are strong and he seems to know what he's doing. You moan a little louder than you intend to, but your feet were so sore that the relief is almost overwhelming. He looks at you when you moan and bites his bottom lip, thanking God that your eyes are closed as his gaze travels down over your figure. If you weren't so shy, he'd probably already have you half undressed. But he kind of likes that you're shy. It's cute and he can't complain about the added challenge. It's almost getting too easy to get girls to say yes.

You spend the next twenty minutes or so like this. He switches feet halfway through, but you sit in silence, moaning and whimpering every once in a while. What you don't know is that you're driving him absolutely crazy with the sounds you're making. If you're this vocal with a foot massage, how might you be in bed? The thought sends a shiver of pleasure down his spine and he shifts to keep your feet away from his erection. Surprisingly, you're the one who breaks the silence. You look up at him and he's looking down at your feet while he works. You can see his eyelashes and for some reason that makes him seem more real.

"What's it like? Being famous?" He takes a deep breath before he answers, not looking up from your feet, like he's trying to decide how honest he should be. He looks up into your eyes intensely.

"Lonesome. I was trying to think of a nicer word, but that's all that comes to mind. Don't get me wrong, I'm very grateful for everything that's happened. I wouldn't change any of it. But it's really very lonely, not knowing who loves you for you and who loves you for who they think you are."

By the end of it, his voice is thick with emotion and you don't think, you just act. You move back to sitting next to him and entwine your arm with his, taking his left hand in both of yours. He looks down at you as you settle your head onto his shoulder. Something inside him flip-flops and he doesn't feel so alone all of a sudden. He presses his lips to the top of your head gently.

You feel him kiss your hair and are overwhelmed with the need for him to kiss you more. He seems to sense this and tips your chin with his other hand, so that you're looking up into his face. There's only a few inches between his lips and yours and you notice his eyes flicking down as he leans in slowly.

"Can I...?" He asks quietly practically against your lips. This time your whisper is appropriate.

"Yes." He doesn't wait another second to dive into a kiss. It's sweet at first, but before too long, you part your lips and his tongue slides into your mouth. He holds the side of your face and you both sit up and turn towards each other as the kiss deepens. His hand drifts down to your hip and he squeezes it, pulling you towards him gently. You start to lift your leg to climb on top and straddle him, but just as you do, there's a soft ding and the elevator doors slide open.

You gasp and scramble back, wiping your mouth and shoving your shoes back on your feet. He looks at you dumbstruck with how quickly you shifted gears. He's still in the mindset that you're about to crawl in his lap.

"Honey, wait?" He rushes to his feet and tries to smooth his clothing. There's nothing he can do about his massive hard-on, though, so he turns and shoves it up under his belt. He feels you touch him near his hip, but he's too focused on what he's doing to acknowledge it.

By the time the doors open all the way, you're both mostly presentable. He's ushered out of the elevator by a group of his friends and family, led by his manager. You watch as they fuss over him and he makes eye contact with you through the crowd.

He'd give almost anything to be back in that elevator with you to finish what he started. But more than that, he already misses the feeling of companionship. The heavy weight of loneliness is starting to settle in his chest again. He looks down and back up and you're gone.

******

You wipe the tears from your face as you make your way back to your car outside the hotel. If only the doors hadn't opened. What might've happened? Oh well. You'll never know. It's up to him now.

******

Elvis manages to keep it together long enough to assure everyone he's fine, do the wardrobe check, and get back to his hotel. He stands in front of the elevator when it opens and seriously considers taking the stairs to the penthouse. But he doesn't. Instead he steps onto the elevator and slides his hands in his pockets as the doors close.

He gasps softly.

Out of his pocket he pulls a small silver bracelet. It's not his. It must be yours. You must've slipped it into his pocket while you put yourselves back together when the doors opened. He turns over the little silver pendant and finds your first and last name in script.

He smiles widely and kisses the bracelet. Looking up, he whispers.

"Thank you."

He's not sure if he's talking to you or God. Maybe both. Either way, now he can find you. He steps off the elevator and heads into his bedroom.

The pieces of his heart start to come back together and he sets your bracelet on his nightstand.

Tomorrow. He'll find you tomorrow.

******

The End?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley

[just-jordie-things]

Jordie sometimes I think about Yuta dropping me off after our first date and then after saying bye and closing the door on him the doorbell would ring and as soon as it’s opened he steals a kiss help my brainrot

god LOVE bc he wants to be a gentleman and take it slow but...

as far as first dates go, it might not have been perfect, but neither of you would go home complaining. all night your heart was aflutter- from the way he opened every door for you, pulled your chair out for you, and made sure to walk on the outside of the sidewalk, you were swooning every time you turned your head.

you'd been crushing on yuuta for some time now, so this didn't come as a surprise to you. it seemed everything he did was charming or endearing. so when he got out of the car to walk you to your door, your heart rate only picked up knowing what would come next.

maybe it was just your crush taking over your brain, but you had a feeling he was a good kisser, and you really, really wanted to put the theory to the test.

"i had a really great time tonight," yuuta would say, and he'd mean every word. his smile would be bashful, his hands would be tucked in his pockets, and he would look radiant basked in the soft yellow of your porch light. "do you... think you'll let me take you out again?"

(you've already made plans for your second date after passing a cute cafe that just opened, but you think it's so cute that he asked you properly that you decide not to tease him for it)

((yet))

"i'd like that very much" you'd say, soft and sweet, your knees weakening by the second as you wait for some sort of signal. a flicker of his eyes to your lips, a lean, anything.

instead, he reaches out to squeeze your hand gently as he bids you goodnight. but just as you're about to get onto the tips of your toes, he's releasing your hand, and stepping off your porch.

for a minute, you stand there and stare at him dumbfounded as he walks back to his car. you don't know if you should feel disappointed or heart-warmed by the lack of kiss.

maybe he didn't kiss on first dates? maybe it wasn't personal? you'd made sure to pop a mint in your mouth after dinner after all- and it burned your tongue when you let it sit too long for nothing?

making your way inside, you tell yourself that there will be other chances- it's not like you absolutely had to have a kiss goodnight to mark the conclusion of a date- a really, really nice date.

but a kiss would've been nice.

you kick off your cute first-date shoes and drop your purse beside them as you move to shrug off your coat. you refuse to let disappointment cloud the rest of an otherwise lovely evening! but you can't help the slight sink of your heart every time you replay it all and come to the end.

on the fourth replay, you've hung up your coat and purse and are just about to tuck your shoes into the closet, when the ring of your doorbell startles you upright.

you answer the door almost embarrassingly fast- even though you were still standing there and there was no reason not to open it right away- but you're frozen still when you see yuuta there.

your surprise is quickly overridden by delight as you smile at him warmly, always so happy to see him, even if it has been five minutes.

was this puppy love? the honeymoon phase?

"yuuta," you greet him sweetly, tilting your head ever so slightly to display your surprise.

you don't have the opportunity to question him or invite him in or anything, because just as soon as his name falls from your lips, he's wrapping his hands around your waist and his lips are on hers and he's kissing her-

oh, he's kissing you.

the shock melts away into something more pleasant... something soft and warm and so consuming that you have to brace your hands against his collarbone to make sure you didn't get too dizzy.

it was the perfect first kiss, even with the delay. he kisses you the same way he compliments you, softly and surely, and yet again you find yourself swooning. yuuta was a charmer through and through.

it's not a long kiss by any means, but when you part, you have to gasp for air, eyes fluttering wide open with unadultered excitement, only to find yuuta already smiling down at you. his face is flushed, his tongue darts over his bottom lip to savor the hint cherry vanilla just a moment longer, and you almost dared to lean up and steal another kiss.

"couldn't leave without it, huh?" you can't help but tease this time.

yuuta chuckles, you had no idea.

"didn't even make it out of the driveway" ___

yuuta sitting in his car turning it on and off debating on if it was too forward to go up there and kiss you:

[inmaki2]

noctyx’s reaction to their s/o being a virgin

req . pairing : noctyx x f!reader .

smut mdni . est 1.6k wc .

warnings : unprotected (wrap b4 tap), pretty soft.. just virginity loss, size/bulge kink

i am so srry for how long this took but pls enjoy!!!!!

alban knox

thinking your boyfriend was as pure as you — perhaps even more so — you felt no shame in announcing that it’d be your first if the heated make out session at hand went any further

boy, were you wrong

as soon as you press a hand to alban’s bare chest, whispering how ‘you’ve never gone this far before’, he couldn’t stop the hungry groan that left his lips

being more on the subby side, alban was not expecting that he might have to take control for your first time together, but he wasn’t complaining

“are— are you serious? we can stop here if you want, no pressure.”

even if his cock is practically screaming for some attention, he’d never push you into something you aren’t ready for

but when you shake your head, mumbling that you want it while gazing up at him with such desperate eyes, poor boy almost cums in his pants

biting his lip, he watches you rub your thighs together impatiently. “okay, lets— lets get these off first, babe. is that alright?”

he.. isn’t the most confident dom but he’s trying! more service top than anything

once you’re bare in front of him, he spends a good five minutes just peppering you with kisses and feeling you up

he just wants to go all out in foreplay in fear of you not being fully comfortable yet, but with how long he takes you’re pretty much begging him to get a move on

“albannn.. please, just touch me..”

he grins, stomach flat on the bed as he sucks a mark into your thigh, “where do you want me, baby? here? or here?”

you gasp, feeling a single digit run up your folds, sinking inside for a moment before moving up to your clit

“geez.. you’re so fucking wet and i barely did anything.”

soon he’s massaging the bud with his thumb, a cat-like tongue pushing past your walls and releasing a strangled whimper from your lips

meanwhile, alban is doing everything in his power to not flip you onto fours and get to it because why do your moans sound so heavenly ?.??

luckily you’re just as needy by then, reaching down to pull on his brown locks pleadingly. “need you to put it in now, please. m’ ready, alban. i promise.”

and he thought he couldn’t get any harder …

this boy is soft down to the very last minute though, so he ends up holding your hand the entire time he pushes in, sucking your tits messily as a distraction

“alban.. hurts. s’too big.” he feels kinda bad for the way he gets impossibly more turned on by those words

“don’t worry, it’s gonna feel really good soon, i promise. just keep your eyes on me, princess.” you nod, glancing down to watch as his pesky fangs gnaw into his lip

he locks your legs tighter around his slim waist, thrusting extra slow at first to gauge your reaction

due to his lengthy foreplay you were fine, only a slight burn from his sheer size remaining

“shit shit— can i speed up, please? you’re squeezing me so tight..” soon you’re gonna need to grab the sheets because he is not slowing down once he starts

“look how well you take me, m’so proud.”

“this cunt was made f’me, right? say it please, please..”

alban is extremely vocal, whining every single time you clench around him, so a great method is kissing to shut the both of you up

he’s definitely not the best at self control, may end up cumming early because you just feel so good and warm :(

“‘m sorry, i couldn’t hold it, please cum for me baby.. i love you..” he’s so cute,, will overstimulate himself just to make sure you finish off too!

even by the end of it, if you’re wanting more he could probably go another few times knowing his stamina

but please be prepared for a very long cuddle session after,, no escaping cat boyfriend for a good hour at least

all in all a very easygoing experience; cum whenever you want, touch wherever you want (please scratch his back and pull his hair harder at that)

we love our soft switch cat boy

fulgur ovid

he just looks at you with such a surprised expression, feeling honoured to be the first one to touch what’s rightfully his

“no need to worry sweetheart, i’ll take care of you, alright?”

however, while fulgur would normally love initiating touches, he’ll leave it up to you to decide when you’re ready

and the night you come over to his desk and whisper how bad you want him, he’s already shutting his pc down

“kiss me, pretty girl.”

you don’t know what you expected, but it wasn’t that “c’mon, don’t be shy. if you can’t even give me a kiss, i dunno how i’m supposed to have you riding my cock later.”

with that, your lips meet his while fulgur pulls off your garments one by one, a small smirk rising on his face as he gently pushes you to his bed

“already look so gorgeous underneath me like this. can i touch you?”

fulgur is easily the slowest with foreplay out of all 3, probably giving you about two orgasms with just his fingers and tongue before even taking his pants off

however, it is quite reasonable considering how girthy and intimidating his length is, visible by pressing through the outline of his boxers

even so, you attempt to return the favor by going down on him too, quickly being stopped by fulgur’s hands cupping your cheeks

“another day, sweetheart. this is about you,” he declares, pressing a quick kiss to your lips

a gasp later escaping your mouth as he runs the tip up and down your entrance before circling your clit

he has you lying in mating press, his large hands press your thighs to your chest, bent in half rather embarassingly

that was the least of your concerns, though. “i don’t- fulgur, i don’t think that can fit..” you stammer, the leaking, angry tip practically glaring at you

he grabs your hand for support, making comforting eye contact once he gently pushes through. “i’ll make it fit, princess. try to relax for me, alright?”

rubs your clit extra quick to distract you from the stretch, bottoming out rather expertly before waiting for your signal to move

fulgur loves praising you for anything and everything, leaning down to press a quick kiss in your lips after you tell him you’re ready

“such a good girl, look how well you’re taking me. shit, so fuckin’ proud.”

fun fact if you can keep your eyes open through his thrusting, you’ll find out about his raging bulge kink

his eyes just keep going from your pretty face to the pretty outline of his dick in your lower stomach T-T

“can you feel me up in your tummy angel?” when you nod, he can’t help but smile proudly. “filled up so well, aren’t you? gonna cum just for me?”

“mhm.. faster, fulgur please.” “greedy girl..” he lets you get away with whatever you want just this once~

he’s also the best at holding off his orgasm, only allowing himself to release once you have

coaxes you through it the whole time, too. “that’s it, let go for me, darling. doing so fuckin’ well, taking this dick like a champ.”

that has you smiling as you finish, something only fulgur could make you do

once you’ve both recovered, your boyfriend will be quick to rush over and get a towel, cleaning you up extra carefully

aftercare king,, asks if everything was okay for you, if you want him to run a bath or something to eat

if not, he hops into bed with you, spooning you extra close

an ideal first experience fs, hopefully you don’t mind if he’s a bit less gentle next time riiight c:

sonny brisko

for once sonny was being bold; plain white tee thrown haphazardly off the bed as he hovers over your body with his own, a lustful haze shadowing his pupils

he was completely in the moment, all shyness washed away as he reaches down to pull your own shirt up

but as soon as you take hold of his wrist, he freezes, moving off you.

“sonny, it’s-“ “shit, i’m so sorry i- i thought you wanted to-“ “sonny!”

then you proceed to explain how you do in fact want him, just that you’d never experienced something like this before

but then he just

“oh, really? me too!” your eyes widen, watching a shy grin appear on his flushed face. “i was kinda just going with my gut, but i don’t really know what i’m doing..”

(don’t forget this man has a 80-90 rice purity after all)

knowing that your boyfriend had around the same amount of experience as you increased your confidence and comfort levels, evident in how swiftly you flipped over so that he was the one lying below you

“we can learn together, then.” pulling your top off, you watch as sonny’s eyes dart down to your breasts, purple eyes darkening as you move his hands up to fondle them

“they’re so soft..” he mumbles, completely entranced while you’re busy unzipping his trousers

you’ve always wondered how your cute, innocent boyfriend would react to such ecstatic pleasure, and you were ready to find out tonight

“can i suck you off?” it was strange hearing such vulgar things from your pretty lips T-T

“uh,” his cheeks redden, nodding sheepishly, “if you want to i’d- i’d like that.”

let’s just say getting head might be one of his new favourite pastimes

.. the sound of you choking and struggling to take him due to his size makes him more than a little turned on

knowing it was your first time giving head, he tried extra hard not to buck his hips up: letting you decide your own pace with a pale hand tangled in your hair

“mmph, fuck! suck a lil’ harder, baby.. so good..”

like fulgur, sonny has decent self control and quickly pulls you off when he feels his orgasm approaching

“gotta save my cum for when i’m inside you, right?” then he sends you the most innocent smile.. :sigh:

he also has surprisingly delicate yet long fingers, which he puts to good use in foreplay (he even managed to pull an orgasm out of you in record time.. he was proud but maintained a cool demeanour)

though he wanted to return the favor of head originally.. you both found yourself getting desperate for more

soon enough you’re straddling him, thighs propped on either side of his with your middle hovering just over his

the position was sonny’s idea, claiming that riding him gave you the option to control your own pace

but even with him fingering you, it was a slight challenge

“shit, why’re you so big?” while other men might get happy by such a question, sonny blushes furiously

“sorry..” he replies, “you’re doing great babe. take your time,” he reaches a hand down to massage your clit, the other caressing your side softly

once he’s completely bottomed out and you start moving, he showers you in praising kisses, whispering how well you’re doing in your ear

“fuuuck, so tight and warm..” his eyes are half closed, sweat sticking to his bangs as the sound of skin slapping fills the room

he fills you up perfectly, but the burning in your thighs only worsened after a while, forcing your pace to slow down

“need help, baby?”

he barely waits for you reply, already snapping his hips up and sending waves of pleasure through you

since it’s his first time as well, he may orgasm early.. but your boyfriend is determined to ensure you do too and will handle the overstimulation (semi) easily!

the blonde watches as your eyes roll back from pleasure, and this time he can’t help but proudly chuckle, “that face says you’re already a slut for my dick. must be close, huh?”

his moans almost overtake yours, nails digging into your hips painfully, “c’mon, cum for me y/n. say my name too.. fuck—“

he lets go as soon as you do ‘cause truth be told, poor boy was struggling extra hard to not cum before you again..

but then as your basking in the afterglow he proceeds to collect his release off your stomach, then lick it right from his finger

“sonny, what the fuck?” “i was curious!”

he’ll probably ask what you need for aftercare, definitely after carrying you bridal style to the bathroom to pee

and maybe round two in the shower??? :nervous sonny smile:

if u enjoyed, reblogs + comments r appreciated!

© nkox on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not rewrite, cross-post, translate, copy, etc.

[forgeofthenine]

Here with another polite request and more compliments to your writing. I turned on post notifs so that I can read everything as soon as you post it. Thank you for feeding us so well with the tieflings content.

How would the tiefling bachelors react to you telling them you love them for the first time?

Thank you so much for the support Maira! It's honestly such a huge compliment to hear people have notifs on for my posts. This was a very cute prompt to write so I went a bit short and sweet with it (and even a bit silly in Dammon and Rolans parts). I hope you enjoy!

The bachelors when you say you love them for the first time

Dammon

Dammon is so happy when you say you love him for the first time

He's definitely the type to happily say 'I love you' first without expectations of you saying it back

But when you do reciprocate he just beams

The grin on his face is so wide and handsome, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he smiles

Gathers you up in his arms and gives you a little spin

Absolutely covers your face in kisses while telling you that he loves you in infernal

Dammon is absolutely glowing for days too, spends so much time thinking and daydreaming about it

So much so the others around him will call the poor blacksmith out

Cue Rolans snark about Dammon having more than just steel on his mind

He doesn't mind the distraction though, if anything he embraces it

It's just so exciting to know you feel so strongly about him

Dammon lives for hearing you say you love him, whether it's the first time or the hundredth

Zevlor

I think you might've broken him, honestly

His reaction is so cute, the wide eyes, how he stops whatever movement he might've been making

The blush that depends the red on his cheeks until he looks like a cherry-

Zevlor doesn't respond at first because he's honestly surprised you feel the same way for him as he does you

He realises he's handsome and can be charming when the need arises, but he never dreamed someone like you would feel so strongly for him

Absolutely wants to kiss you, might even do it before saying he loves you back

Might end up murmuring it against your lips before going in for a second kiss

Zevlors so flustered and sweet, wanting to reciprocate but feeling so out of practice

It's a huge self esteem boost for him though and you can tell with the way he carries himself just a little more pride

Another one that never tires of hearing you say those three words, they're all Zevlor needs to make his day perfect

Rolan

Rolan is a confident man, some would say overly so

He never really runs out of things to say

Until you tell him those three words that make his mouth go drier than a desert in shock

The wizards loved you for months now, maybe since he first met you, but to hear that you love him too?

He's like Karlach where he just responds by near shouting 'I love you, too' back, the words tumbling out of his mouth before his brain catches up

It's genuinely embarrassing for him for a moment, until you pull him in for a kiss

Now he's suddenly a lot less worried about what he just said and how he said it

Despite his wonderful memory, Rolan craves hearing you say it more and more

He positively preens every time you say it and the sight of his pleased smile is honestly to handsome to bear

The only time he'll be less pleased is when you happen to let it slip around Cal and Lia

The two of you will never escape the kissy noises that follow or chants of the two of you 'sitting in a tree', but even the ever exasperated Rolan wouldn't have it any other way

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 6.

Summary: Felix learns about what happened between you and Oliver at the club, and some jackass makes assumptions about you and Felix and your intentions towards Oliver. The interaction gets you worked up enough that you feel the need to repay Felix as when he'd defended you. With sex.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: SMUT; AFAB!reader, d/s dynamics, felix being a chatty brat, assume the reader is on birth control, unprotected sex.

A/N: 4782 words. cannot go two chapters without having a felix/reader moment it seems. bare with me i swear we get more oliver as it goes on, but he's just watching through the blinds right now and collecting information. also forgive me, not only is this unedited, it's also the first actual, explicit smut scene i've written in years, and even longer since i've been intimate with someone with a dick. i also dont read smut so this might be weird pacing wise at the end. honestly the smut is just a backdrop for character development. have at ye, and please lemme know what you think!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

Summer creeps in almost insidiously, days getting longer and warmer, humidity forcing it's way into every single facet of your lives. Afternoons outside of classes are spent doing not much of anything, hoping that when night falls, the temperature will fall with it.

This afternoon is the coolest you've had in several weeks, laying on Felix's floor, listening to him play the guitar while Oliver was draped over the foot of his bed, gazing at Felix's bookshelf. There's a sweet breeze through the open window and you hum along to the tune you recognise your best friend playing, letting yourself soak in the moment.

The quiet spell breaks as Oliver moves, reaches out for something on Felix's bookshelf.

"That's cute," he muses, "baby Felix." It must be the photo of Felix and his childhood dog, the you'd only met once or twice as a kid before he'd passed, before you'd been properly friends. But Oliver puts the photo back almost as fast as he'd picked it up, "there aren't any pictures of me as a kid," he muses.

"You and Y/N have that in common," Felix says idly, surprising both you and Oliver, though for different reasons; you hadn't even realised he'd remembered that about you. Your vapid, jet-setting, philanthropist parents had always been incredibly image conscious, and a child was never part of that image. Born out of obligation to their own parents to produce a grandchild to make eventual inheritance easier, they longed to distance themselves from the very idea of you unless they desperately needed to.

And they hadn't for as long as you've been alive.

"If there were baby photos of me, that'd prove that my parents had a child," you laughed, but there was no real humour in it, "and none of us wants that."

The invisible heir.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Oliver says faintly, an unfamiliar, unreadable look in his eyes as he gazes over at you. You give a blithe shrug.

"It means I got to find a home in Felix," you say easily, the wording sappy enough to make Felix himself laugh.

"You're such a sap, that's so much nicer than what I was going to say."

"Go on then, out with it," you prompted him, despite his faint, playful protest.

"I was going to call you another ward of the Saltburn Estate," Felix grins at you, "for better or worse."

"At least you had a family who loved you," Oliver turns away again, pressing his cheek to the duvet as his gaze focused back on the photo of Felix and his dog, "even if they weren't yours." There's a distinct discomfort in the air now, a reminder of how vastly Oliver's life differs from your own.

"I was lucky in a lot of ways," is all you can think to say. Felix starts playing guitar again.

These long days turn into long nights, parties, girls and boys and everyone in between, hazy chats and drinking games and hands on you - holding you, dancing with you, brushing past, tapping with excitement, always hands on you. The quiet way Oliver goes through these strange situations may be read as awkward to everyone else, but you're no longer under any such illusions.

"You're desperate to feel needed."

There was no hesitation in his voice the other night, his hands on you, his mouth on you.

"Then need me, want me."

How easily he'd made you flustered in the club, you didn't realise he had it in him. Honestly if you hadn't experienced it yourself, you wouldn't believe it if someone else had told you. There's been a change, however, a subtle, unnoticeable one to anyone looking in from the outside. Every so often, on nights out, you'll catch him watching you with that same hungry look in his eyes, but will never act on it, however much you wish he would.

"I do, but not like this, not now."

What the fuck was he playing at? You never knew how to bring it up, even when you were alone together. But he never stopped reached out for you, he never shied away from your touch. Apart from this one thing, it was the exact same as before.

If only that one thing didn't have the potential to change everything.

"Has Ollie seemed any different to you lately?" You go to the only person you know you can trust with this. Felix frowns at his hand of cards for a long moment before looking back up at you.

"Sorry, what was the question?"

"Ollie," you go a little slower, rearranging your own hand of cards, "does he seem... I don't know, different to you?" Then, as Felix was considering, "got any fives?"

"Go fish." You should both be studying for an upcoming exam.

"What do you mean? Has anyone said anything to you?" Felix momentarily put down his cards to relight his cigarette, fixing you with an intense gaze, "did something happen?"

"Did someone say something to you?" You pivot for the moment, still looking at your cards.

"Annabel."

"Annabel?"

"About her birthday thing."

"Are you taking your turn or what?"

"Oh, right," he's still frowning, picking up his cards with his free hand, "threes?" You swear as you hand over two threes, as he quietly cheers.

"Anyways, what about Annabel's birthday thing? Does she has a problem with Ollie?" At your question, Felix ums and ahs, and avoids eye contact, "yes then?"

"No-one else in the group is a huge fan of him," he even sounds guilty admitting it out loud, "everyone else can kind of feel how out of place he is and it makes things awkward. I know we think he's lovely," Felix tried to quickly placate you, or perhaps his own conscience, "but the man's got zero chat." This does, however, make you snort.

"Ollie's got chat," you smirk down at your cards, only realising what you'd said when you're met with a shocked silence. Looking up, Felix is staring at you with utter surprise.

"Does he now?" He sounds downright scandalised. You can feel yourself growing flustered, both under Felix's delighted, intrigued gaze, and at your own memories from the club, "so something did happen?"

"Nothing happened!"

"Something definitely happened!"

"I didn't fuck him."

"Between nothing and fucking there's a whole lot of somethings that could have happened," card game completely forgotten, Felix is enraptured as you begin to briefly explain the interaction at the club -

"- and well then, he starts calling me out while aggressively making out with me," you take a deep, final breath, finally looking Felix in the eyes, "and I desperately wanted to fuck him because of it." You sigh, and give Felix plenty of time to process the story and recover.

"But you didn't?" Finally, he speaks, and you groaned, throwing your head back to look at the stars.

"No," you sulked, "he disappeared into the crowd and I had to get myself off twice before I could sleep that night. Fucking tease," but you're heart's not really mad at Oliver.

"Always fascinated to learn what turns you on," Felix is desperately trying to hold in his laughter. It's not working, "many of them baffle me."

"That's not the point here, Fi," you rolled your eyes, leaning back against the gravel roof finally, laying back. You hear the pebbles shifting, and moments later Felix joins you, hands behind his head, "I don't know how to talk about it with him," you say softly. Then, tone much lighter, "and it doesn't surprise me that Annabel thinks he has no chat, he just doesn't want to fuck her, and she can't fathom a world where anyone doesn't want her."

Felix laughs, but unfortunately isn't able to offer any real advice to you about your Oliver situation.

Oliver Quick was an anomaly in your life, you should maybe have suspected his friendship to bring on further anomalous occurrences.

"Leave Oliver Quick alone," like the voice in the library that greets you harshly whilst you're hunting down a textbook. Spinning to see who it is, you lay eyes on a blonde man in dreadfully practical clothes; he's glaring at you like you've done him some personal offense.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he says sharply, gaze as unwavering as his tone, "you vapid -" he stops himself for a moment, face turning red with anger, "pricks," he settles on, "leave Oliver Quick alone, for his sake."

"Is this a joke?"

"Oh I'm not one for jokes, especially not with the likes of you; I know how you and Mister Catton operate. Selfish," he hissed.

"Do I know you?" Its genuine confusion, and for a moment the man's expression turned annoyed, his righteous indignation turning to faint disappointment as you refused to take him and his request seriously.

"Michael," like it should mean something to you, "Michael Gavey;" still nothing, "I was in the year below you at high school for four years."

"Well, Michael," you start slowly, bordering on condescending, "Ollie's a big boy -"

"I know you; you'll get bored, you two always do," Michael cuts you off with a sneer, some of that anger from just earlier returning, "he deserves more than to be a footnote in your frivolous little lives."

"Fuck off, Mikey." You say it as a warning.

"Michael," he corrects through gritted teeth, "Felix is a slag, which makes you the sensible one, so I thought you'd actually listen -" but the realisation hits you, right as you start to see red.

"You've already tried talking to Ollie," immediately, your tone ices over, humourless, cruel little smile twisting the edges of your lips. Noticing your change in demeanour, the fight seems to drain out of Michael before your very eyes, "and he ignored you, didn't he?" You asked, already knowing the answer from the way he was trying to stammer through an answer.

"Now, Michael," you tell him with a poisonous smile, taking even, measured steps towards him, as you turn his name over on your tongue with as much malice as you can manage, "Michael Gavey, I think I do know you," you're playing with your food, drawing out his discomfort with every slow word; you weren't cruel by nature, not unless someone found which button to press, "first year," you drop your voice low as you get into his space. He starts to shrink backwards, but you're practically on his toes until you're crowding him against the bookshelf, "math genius, shouts in the dining hall -"

"I didn't- just once-"

"If you ever," there's a furious look in your eyes behind your sinister smile as you stand toe-to-toe with Michael, "and I mean fucking ever, breathe the word slag in Felix's direction, or any other insult for that matter," you wet your lips, "I promise the only job you will ever get for the rest of your life will be that of a high school English tutor," you pet his cheek condescendingly, "for students with dyscalculia."

Michael actually shudders.

"You know I can do it too, don't you?" You press, and he nods, looking both furious and ashamed where he can't look you in the eyes, "we went to high school together, Mikey, I know where you came from, I can dictate where you will go." Stepping back, you clear your throat. Nodding to him, you turn on your heel to head further into the library, to continue searching for your book.

Trying to move past it doesn't work, it still irks you, you still can't stop thinking about his weaselly little face, the bitter sneer he wore, and the cruelty with which he spoke about you and Felix. It haunts you. The audacity.

Textbook in hand, you immediately head for the patch of greenery and trees near Oliver's dorm, where you know Felix and the rest of your friends will all be spending their afternoon.

"Ooh~ Y/N coming in hot," Farleigh called, spotting the metaphorical cloud of thunder above you before anyone else.

"What are you doing now?" Ignoring everyone else, you only have eyes for Felix. He grins up at you from where he was using Farleigh's thigh as a pillow.

"I assume whatever it is you're about to ask of me," he says blithely, while the others watch the interaction with amusement.

"I need to rant," was all you said, and Felix held out his hand for you to help him up.

"You're so sexy when you're angry," he says teasingly for the whole group to hear, "has anyone ever told you that?"

"I'm not kidding," you scowl, and his grin widens.

"I know, that's the best part, I could listen to you yell for hours, I usually never get to hear it." The banter continues on the way back to your dorm. The others know it's probably a cover, though none of them, apart from Farleigh of course, know the truth. Most assume you're moments from a breakdown and would like to have your best friend there for support.

The minute you're back in your room, you slam the door shut and toss the textbook to the side. Felix asks you what's wrong, tone still light, and you can feel that protective anger flaring up in you.

Slag.

"If you don't hold me back I might start getting into scraps," you tells him with seriousness, stalking up to him with intent, planting an almost bruising kiss on his lips as you fumble with the buttons of your shirt. It's not often that you're the one getting riled up; Felix is more than enthusiastic.

"Don't fight on my behalf," he laughs, frantically pulling off his sweater. Pausing for a moment to help him with the pullover, the minute it's off and tossed to the side, you're unbuttoning his shirt with one hand as best your able, as he's trying to tug your shirt off in the chaos. The two of you are moving to the bed, and he actually gasps when the back of his legs hit, when you take a beat to raise your eyebrows at him, silently asking permission.

He's already letting himself fall back with a wicked, delighted grin as your hand finds his bare chest.

Then he's breathless, with you braced over him, gazing down at him with a furious determination that you don't usually allow yourself to build up. Felix looks up at you with pure extasy in his eyes, like you hang the stars in the sky. His hands on your ass, his grip is firm and secure, but he doesn't move; he's letting you lead.

"Felix Catton, I ruin lives for you," you practically snarl; a breathy laugh escapes him, caught up in the moment, in the mood that's been building within you, "doesn't feel like enough sometimes -"

"You're so fucking hot," he groans like he can't even help himself, can't hold himself back, can't help but close the gap to your lips, kissing you with that same intensity you're giving him.

"If I hear-" you punctuate your words with rough kisses, "another word-" biting at his lips, "against you, I'm -" fumbling with his belt, "I'm gonna start cutting people -"

"Yeah?" Felix prompts breathlessly with a sharp grin, not even waiting to get your fly all the way down before his hand is in your pants, fingers at an awkward angle in your jeans but still finding your clit. It's like you're feeling everything tenfold with the earlier outrage still burning in your veins -

Vapid pricks. The likes of you. Slag. Watching Felix's hands on the girl in the club. The venom in his voice and fury in his eyes when he'd pinned Farleigh to the wall to defend you - Our Felix; Oliver's voice like honey in your ears, tempting that jealous creature in your chest that you'd gone for years ignoring -

"My Felix," you'd purred as your hand found his cock. For a moment, his breath came out as a stutter, eyes going wide as they meets yours. He looks almost incredulous, then, after a moment, hungry, wanting. It's captivating; he's captivating, like he's desperate to devour every part of this moment and you in it, barely holding himself back.

"One more time for me?" He requests, voice low and pleased, before he changes tactics, indicating for both of you to actually take off your pants.

"Everyone's fucking wrong about you," you tell him, kicking your jeans to the side, watching for a moment as he shimmies with his jeans, looking like he's made of ninety percent limbs. Still, your intensity holds.

"Even the people that like me?" Felix laughs, finally getting himself free of the jeans. Before he can remove his boxers, however, you're on him once more, thumbs hooking into the waistband and pulling them down slowly as you speak.

"Everyone else has these versions of you in their head," you begin to plant kisses along his inner thigh as you work your way up, looking up at him through your lashes, "where you're either an angel who can do no wrong," Felix is already hard when you begin to slowly work your hand up and down the shaft of his cock, "or the absolute devil who's a scourge on the female population," your lip curls for a moment, a derisive kind of amusement at their imagined expense.

"I can't look at you right now," he half chokes out, head falling back against your duvet, "fuck," he gasps. It's enough to bring you back to the moment, and you apologise -

"No, fuck, don't stop anything; the ranting, the -" he gestures to where your movements had slowed briefly, "any of it, I just literally," he laughs a little awkwardly, almost a little self-deprecatingly, "will not last more than a minute if I look at you right now."

Oh.

Oh! This is good!

"What's so different," he prompts through shaky breathes - you can't quite believe how much he's effected by you in this moment, how enthusiastically, how desperately he responds to your dominant intensity - "about the version of me in your head?"

After a beat, you climb off of him, already reaching for your drawer.

"Everything okay?" He asks, eyes opening as he tilts his head to look at you. Pulling out a tube of lube, you focus on opening it up, rather than Felix himself. You should be using protection, you know you should be using protection, but you want to feel all of him, only him.

"I can't talk with my mouth full," you told him, still maintaining that steely intensity, "so we're skipping foreplay." Felix, immediately understanding where you were going with all this, looks back up at the ceiling with a wide smile.

"Fine by me; right now I'm inclined to say that you can do whatever you want forever, honestly - cold!" He announced with shock, jerking up a little as you glided a generous amount of lubricant over his cock. There's a faint look of betray in his eyes, but you just gave him a thin, mean smile.

"Felix, stop talking."

The commanding tone is enough to get him back on board, groaning, arching into your touch as you once again were working his shaft, now so slick your hand glided easily up and down the impressive length.

"My Felix," voice once again low, you use some of the excess lubricant on yourself. Since leaving the library, however, your anger had known it's outlet; just the idea of fucking Felix in a righteous fury had gotten you going, and you were already wet, wanting, desperate for him.

"Don't make me beg," he all but whimpered as you finally straddled his thighs, "fuck, I'll do it for you, but -"

"Shut. Up. Felix." You leaned down, chest pressed to his lips inches from his, whispering, "I won't make you beg," as you sink down onto his cock, swallowing his moan with a kiss.

"I am under no illusions about you, Felix," you begin to murmur, hips rolling at a deep, consistent rhythm, "I don't have a version of you in my head, I just have you; I just want you, as you are."

Pace picking up, you sit, rake your nails lightly down his chest, watch as he pants and groans beneath you. When he holds your hips, your thighs, you can feels his nails digging in, burying himself deep inside of you with each rhythmic thrust. There's something primal and triumphant roaring in your chest, pushing you to sink your nails into him, your teeth -

"I don't care who you fuck," you tell him through gritted teeth, picking up your pace, thighs burning.

"You're a fucking liar," tumbles from Felix's lips as he looks up at you with a smirk.

"I don't, I'd be a hypocrite -" very suddenly, Felix sits up, and you go still with him still inside of you, adjusting to the change, wrapping your legs around him.

"Then you're a hypocrite," he smirks, gaze hazy, heady, euphoric in this moment, "and a liar," and he wraps his arms around you as he kisses you, pulling you back with him as he lays back down on the bed.

"I'm not jealous," you start again, softer this time, but still aiming for stern.

"I'll say I believe you," there's mischief in Felix's eyes as his hand snakes between the two of you, fingers rubbing circles against your clit as you pick your rhythm back up again, slower this time.

"Fi," for the first time all afternoon, your voice softens, and you let your stern demeanour break, instead looking over him, glowing with sweat and endorphins, in your bed, in you, looking up at you with nothing but love in his eyes, "I don't care if nobody knows it's me, but -" you wet your lips, wicked little smile on your lips, "I want everyone else you ever fuck to be jealous of the way you let me fuck you."

Something about your words, your request, perhaps your tone, sets him off again; you rake your nails lightly down his chest again and he arches up, swearing, almost breathless.

"Yes, fuck, yes," comes out alongside a breathless moan, "my Y/N, anything you want - please."

You paint him blue and purple and the deepest, prettiest red with hickeys, leaving him looking absolutely scandalous. Of course he returns the favour in the form of scratch marks up your back and his teeth almost drawing blood from your shoulder. When he comes it's with your mouth on his neck and his cock deep inside of you, holding you close, holding you steady, whispering incoherent praise into your ear. Always diligent, he doesn't move, doesn't pull out or away from you before his focus is on you, making sure you get off, delighting in watching you unravel on top of him.

In the afterglow, amid the sharing of a cigarette and catching of your breath, you apologise softly.

"What are you apologising for?" He immediately cracks a grin, "in fact, any time you ever start to get all worked up and mean like that, have me on speed dial -"

"I - no, Fi," you sighed, amused at his suggestion, though it was fading fast, "I just... try not to be jealous," there's faint notes of guilt now that you've come down from the adrenaline and endorphins of it all. Sitting against the headboard, you draw your knees up to your chest.

"I know," Felix says easily, sitting up beside you, resting his head against your shoulder, his hand on your knee, "I try too... I don't think I'm always that great at hiding it." Then, after a moment, his tone lightens, "I think this is why I don't want to tell people about us, I don't think I could begin to explain it in a way that makes sense." It gets you to laugh, leaning into him, tension and guilt easing.

"I thought it was the rush of sneaking around and lying to people."

"There's that too," he agreed with a chuckle. The two of you fall into easy silence as he takes a drag on the cigarette and hands it over. The afternoon is sticky-hot, especially in your room, curtains still half open but window shut. As you go to open it, not caring about potential onlookers in the twilight, past the sliver of your curtain, Felix speaks up.

"There's no version of me in your head? Not even a little bit rose-coloured-glasses tinted?" He grins at you, and you lay out on the bed, looking up at him through your lashes. After a moment of simply taking the moment in, you shake your head with a soft smile.

"I told you, I'm under no illusions about you, Fi."

"I think you're too good to me for that to be true."

"I want you as you are, dude," you shrug, as if it's the easiest truth in the world.

"As I am?" He wants to be sceptical but his tone and the look in his eyes betrays him. You've never heard him quite so soft you think, eyes wide and glassy and full of conflict and love; everyone wants him, everyone loves him, everyone wants to be him or be with him, he's reckoned with his reality a long time ago, even if he wasn't entirely conscious of it. Felix's life had been picked apart by everyone around him at the surface level for as long as he could remember, perhaps he'd thought that no-one would ever care to look deeper. Perhaps he'd gotten so used to it that he'd forgotten there was anything deeper.

"I want the Felix who can't keep a girlfriend for more than two months, and who's cheated on every single one of them with me," you start, wearing a grin despite his sudden frown, "I want the Felix who hugs and kisses strangers after just meeting them because he's bursting at the seams with affection, I want the Felix who won't admit that he sleeps better with someone next to him at night, and the Felix who recaps the books he's been reading to me like they're gossip. The Felix who uses people, and breaks hearts, who says he doesn't know he's doing it but I know you do," you laugh, sitting up on your knees and letting the blankets slide down your back as Felix looks up at you now with a fond kind of reverence, "I want the Felix that lights up every room he's in without even trying, who makes everyone around him feel like they're the only person in the world, and that same Felix who still shifts over, mid conversation with someone else, for me to sit down beside him without having to even ask, because you know we'll always come back to each other," you lean down, lips inches from his, burning intensity in your gaze as you take in the reverence in his eyes, "the Fi who fights for me, the Fi who loves that I'd ruin lives for him, my Felix -" You see the moment he can no longer hold himself back, arcing forward, moving from the headboard to be by you, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. For a long moment it's your mouth fitting perfectly against his, faint, desperate groan being pulled from the back of his throat as he takes your face in his hands, firm, warm, wanting, deepening the kiss.

"Some of those things were pretty shit," he laughed a little self consciously after the kiss breaks, both of you breathing heavy. In his eyes you can see the barest hint of conflict.

"People have said worse."

"And you got them expelled," he reminded with a faint smile, but again there's that conflict, "and they aren't you."

"You're my best mate," you laugh easily, "that shit, the good and the less good, makes you my Felix. Be pretty shit of me to want to chop and change who you are, you know?"

For a very long moment, you watch the way he slowly begins to smile, to take all your saying in drinking in this sun-drenched moment. Reaching out, he carefully touches your cheek.

"Say it again then," he prompts, sounding almost giddy, feather-light touches as if mapping your delicate features in this moment. For a brief second you're confused, barely angling your head to indicate as such before you can see his faint blush beneath his golden skin, creeping up his cheeks. When he laughs, almost self conscious, you realise, and grin back.

"You're a sap."

"Don't make me beg."

"My Felix."

[wihellib]

Mammon was voted #1 in the Favourite H Scene poll here. Not really surprising. His H scene was quite good. Satan was 2nd and Foras was 3rd. I am surprised by Foras. I think there might be a bit of recency bias in this case.

Under the cut is my completely biased, quickly-written, kinda summarized opinions on each of the H scenes.

Satan

Satan staring at you without blinking while kissing and sleeping still throws me off.

I like that Satan reassures you that he’s doesn’t just like you because you’re the descendant of Solomon.

I don’t like hair pulling or strangulation, so not very fond of this scene, even though I like Satan a lot.

The CG is nice. I like how he’s grinning and the glow of his eyes.

Only features a little bit of spanking even though that’s his kink.

It’s mentioned that we’re feeling the pleasure that Satan’s feeling. This is done in several scenes. I’ve never liked it. It feels like a cop out.

The scene ends abruptly with you blacking out. I much prefer when there a bit of follow up/pillow talk afterwards.

Sitri

Sitri gives you tea to calm your nerves that makes your heart beat a lot faster and louder because of the caffeine… but I don’t think caffeine works to this extent, so creative liberty I guess.

His kink, hearing heartbeats, features prominently in this scene. Keeping his head near your chest, mouth on your chest, feeling your heartbeat through your intimate connection, and moving in time with your heartbeat.

You’re feeling turned on because he’s turned on, similar to Satan’s scene, still not a fan.

You feel more aroused as your heart beats faster and you think it might explode… I don’t see what’s arousing about that.

CG was good again. I liked that he’s showing a lot more emotion than his normal sprite usually does.

He calls you Solomon throughout, which is annoying, but does call you by your real name at the very end (the only time he’s done so).

Some pillow talk at the end which is nice.

Zagan

Zagan blushes and turns away when he sees your naked body, which is cute.

He’s quiet like usual, but does speak when you ask him why he wanted to help you, and says he wanted to do it with you and give you devils energy, while blushing. Very cute.

You get to take a bit more of a lead, be a bit more assertive, in this one, you’re not just manhandled around, which is refreshing.

I like that he seems to have a praise kink.

He tries to increase his muscle use, get a better workout, increase movement, which is his kink, which arouses him more, which arouses you. Fine whatever.

The CG is fine. Your foot looks wonky with its finger-like toes but Zagan looks good.

Some pillow talk again. Zagan has been mostly silent, but does say it was a good workout and he wants to do it again at the end.

Leraye

Leraye is completely overwhelmed by pleasure from hearing thunder, which is his kink. He basically tackles you onto the bed and glues himself on top of you.

I’m pretty sure this is the first time one of them play with your genitals during foreplay.

You are getting aroused from the thunder too, so we’re keeping the trend of whatever the guy likes you also like inexplicably.

MC comments he’s more like a growling wolf and not his golden retriever self.

I really like this CG. He’s completely on top of you, pressing you down on your stomach, while covering your eyes and biting your neck. His presence is overwhelming.

The thunder goes away and Leraye comes back to his senses. He’s so happy that it wasn’t a dream, smiling, lays down next to you, wishes you good dreams and kisses your forehead. I very much like this wind-down to the scene.

Paimon

We go to Paimon’s room instead of ours for this scene, which is a nice change of pace. His room is full of mirrors, which feature heavily in this scene. His kink, which is blood, isn’t included at all.

We’re also not naked right at the very start, which I much prefer. I like the undressing phase.

Paimon rubs your genitals and forces you to look at what he’s doing to you in the mirror, which he continues throughout the scene. I was surprised how dominant Paimon was in this scene, but I wasn’t against it.

Paimon says he loves pretty things and looking at pretty things from multiple angles. He says that you’re pretty and a devilish human.

He makes you brace your hands against a wall mirror and stuffs your shirt in your mouth.

The CG is good. For the first time we are shown a different angle than us on a bed. Paimon’s face seems a little off to me, but overall it’s good.

Paimon throws the mirror on the ground, so you’re forced to look at a different, more revealing angle.

Just a little bit of pillow talk. Paimon kisses us and tell us to come him when we want to play more.

Mammon

Back in Minhyeok’s room unfortunately. Mammon comes out swinging by immediately commenting on how skilled we look in accepting devil’s energy.

Mammon says that it was obvious since he first met you that he had to have you, but he also realized that he would just be one of many that would try that tactic. So, he decided to do something he’s never done before and let you have him. You will be his first master. He also reveals that he wasn’t as close to Solomon as the other Kings. You ask if he only likes you because you’re the descendant of Solomon and he replies that he just fell in love with you at first sight. This affection is clear throughout this scene, which increases its rank a lot for me.

Mammon’s kink is all about bottoms, and this scene reflects that. You’re both grabbing each other’s butts and getting more aroused.

Mammon picks you up and holds yours buttcheeks open while you wrap your arms around his neck. I like that Mammon is showing off his strength here.

I do wish that they had spent some time on Mammon using his fingers or tongue to prep you to take him. He is very large, evident by the fact that your first thought when he entered you was, ‘I am going to die’, so it would have been nice to see him care about making sure he doesn’t hurt you. He does hold himself still at first to let you adjust, but I still would have liked some prep beforehand.

The CG is good. No complaints.

Mammon flips you around, so you’re in a standing 69 position, showing off his strength again, and you give each other oral.

Longer pillow talk. He lays you on top of him, it was very nice.

Bimet

Bimet changes his tune about you real quick when Mammon declares you to be his master. He kneels before you and informs you that you became the being that arouses him the most with that declaration. He cannot covet Mammon, but now he can covet you, the only one who owns Mammon, and he is ecstatic about that. He wants to serve you. Bimet’s kink is wealthy people and you’re the wealthiest of all.

I do not like Bimet and I do not like his reasons for favouring you. It is shallow and fragile. He would be back to contempt for you the moment Mammon lost interest. I’m not a big fan of this H scene simply because I don’t like Bimet.

He licks your toes, which no thank you. He does oral on you and puts his conniving tongue to good use.

CG is good. I like how wet his mouth is because of you.

Some pillow talk. He gives you the first thing he truly owned himself, a coin from Solomon, and tells you to give it back to him if you choose him. I would have preferred if the first thing he owned wasn’t from Solomon.

Belial

You go to wrap your naked body in a blanket like you usually do, but Belial stops you and says you’ll end up taking it off anyways. The immediate assertiveness was surprising but interesting.

Because of his throat injury, Belial talks very little and Jjyu is not there to help him, so he communicates with you by writing on your naked body, which is his kink. It is a very good, intimate solution. He writes lots all over your body while fingering you.

You are against the wall, facing Belial, while he penetrates and writes adorations on you.

The CG shows that everything he’s written is glowing red on you. It’s a nice picture, but I could have done without him licking your armpit. I think I would have preferred a kiss in the lips instead.

Some pillow talk, you fall asleep with him inside of you.

Valefor

We have moved on from Minhyeok’s room, which is great. I felt it was much too restrictive, and caused repetitiveness.

Valefor reassures you and you tell him he is kind and reminds you of Mammon, which he approves of. When you see that he likes it, you lean more into the comparisons. Valefor is turned on by being compared to Mammon because he respects him greatly. You talk about Mammon a lot, but I wish it was a bit less, because this is supposed to be Valefor’s moment, not Mammon’s. His kink is supposed to be hearing explicit narratives, so I don’t think this really relates to it.

Valefor praises you for how well you know how to please a devil. And tells you to run away if you want to only know him as the kind relaxed Valefor.

Then we start going into exhibitionism territory, with him leading you to the closed door, where Bimet is just outside keeping watch. This is also not his kink.

Bimet leaves to check something, so Valefor increases the risk factor and opens the door while you’re both naked and penetrates you.

The CG is fine. The way you and he are positioned are a bit odd. It’s hard to tell whose body part is whose.

Valefor basically taunts you asking where Bimet is, then puts you in an even more embarrassing position.

Some pillow talk. He lifts you up, kisses your forehead, and you admire his chest.

Leviathan

Levi decides to give you devil energy even though he doesn’t like you. He hangs you and insults Minhyeok in an effort to make you mad so you hurt him, which will arouse him. So that’s what happens.

The CG is my least favourite of all of them. You start stomping on his lap and dick. Your toes are oddly long again and you have an oddly muscled thigh. Levi is not even naked. This is the only CG that doesn’t take place during some sort of penetration.

You straddle him and start strangling him and enough clothes have been taken off at this point that he penetrates you.

Then you kissed him for so long that you were both feeling oxygen deprived. He is in awe that you showed him there’s another way to suffocate. He thinks you’re talented. Only very little pillow talk.

I don’t like Levi. The way he acts and talks to you. I don’t like it at all. I also don’t like breath control, his kink, or anything to do with strangulation/choking, or beating people up. So this H scene was not for me at all.

Glasyalabolas

Glasy’s kink is necrophilia, and they include his kink in the H scene by making you as limp as a corpse after kissing him. Oh boy. I’m not fond of Glasy and I don’t like the idea of not being in control of yourself and unable to move at all. So this scene ranks very low for me.

He licks your toes, not a fan. He plays with your chest and nipples. He spreads you open and just stares, then performs oral on you, while keeping you spread open.

He makes your limp hand jerk him off, then uses your slack mouth. This is the second time you performed oral on a demon. This is what the CG shows, though I would have preferred if they picked something else.

Then he manhandles you into position to penetrate you. He cums inside you. Then he moves to your throat again and comes there too. This is the first time the guy has come twice in an H scene.

There is pillow talk. He wraps you in his cape, holds you and kisses you as the limpness wears off. He tells you he’ll fetch you when you die, but it’s good you’re alive now.

Foras

You realize you need devils energy, but none are around you right now, so you start masturbating. You hear the door open, but don’t see anyone. Foras is invisible, which plays into his kink.

He starts playing with your genitals while invisible. You realize who he is and call out to him, but he ignores you.

Finally he tells you to take off your clothes, pose embarrassingly, and just sit there in silence while he watches while still invisible. The dominance he’s displaying is unexpected, but fine.

Foras puts his dick near your mouth and you suck him off.

He penetrates you, again while all the while being invisible, so it looks like you’re being fucked by a ghost.

The CG could be better. His expression looks a little wonky and you’re clothed in it even though you’re supposed to be naked.

Foras informs you that he was there for every H scene. He really liked that you never noticed him.

He doesn’t let you see him afterwards, which I think he should have. He gets your permission to keep watching you having sex. Then he inexplicably cums on your face after you fall asleep. No thank you sir. And for some reason you don’t even comment on it after you wake up.

Overall

I liked Leraye, Mammon, Belial, Zagan, Paimon, and Valefor H Scenes the most.