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purple-plum-petals · 6 months ago

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Hello!! I see your requests for Homicipher are open and I got giddy :D (starving for more content) May I request fluff drabble for Mr Silviar? Maybe his s/o teaching him how to say "I love you" in human language? Thank you!

⊱ Those Three Words ⊰ || Mr. Silvair X Reader

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮ Character(s): Mr. Silvair (Homicipher/文字化化) Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns) Warning(s): Spoilers for Homicipher (specifically Route End: Mr. Silver Hair 1), Canon-typical Mentions of Violence (and Horror-Elements), Cultural Barriers (Mr. Silvair Doesn’t Fully Comprehend Certain Emotions). Anything spoken in the other world’s language will be bolded. Genre: Drabble, Fluff, Slight Angst, Pre-Established Romantic Relationship (It’s Complicated, honestly). Word Count: ~3,280 Request: “Hello!! I see your requests for Homicipher are open and I got giddy :D (starving for more content) May I request fluff drabble for Mr Silviar? Maybe his s/o teaching him how to say "I love you" in human language? Thank you!” Author’s Note: Mr. Silvair!!! He’s genuinely so pretty, y’all – it’s not fair. 😔 I find his overall character to be quite fascinating, and a part of me is really hoping the game gets a DLC or something to further expand on each of the character’s lore (and more moments with the MC, of course). Like game, what do you mean that some of the monsters may have been humans while others probably never were?? I desperately need more food… I headcanon that Mr. Silvair was either 1. never human, or 2. has been in the other world for a very long time, resulting in the loss of his memory as a human which could be why he’s so interested in researching them/maintaining the MC’s humanity. 🤔 But that’s just a theory – a game theory! Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated! ♡ ╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

Even after everything that had happened between you and this world’s resident human-enjoyer, you surprisingly still felt at ease with Mr. Silvair. That comfortability, though, made you think hard about your sanity. After all, it probably wasn’t normal to be comfortable around someone who enjoyed taking you apart and watching your body put itself back together over and over again. Yet, you did, and you didn’t mind your current arrangement as much as you probably would have in the past.

Mr. Silvair’s home was destroyed in a fiery explosion (courtesy of himself), so you had offered to help him find a new one. You managed to locate a large room, one that he deemed satisfactory enough to call his base, and you had been staying with him indefinitely since then. As long as you had a comfy bed to lay in and someone else to keep you company, you were happy.

Your other friends(?) frequently stopped by as well to say hello, the most common ones being Mr. Crawling and Mr. Chopped. While you were occasionally hit with a feeling of loneliness, it was hard to feel that way with so many friendly faces around. Well… maybe their faces weren’t that friendly, but they were kind and gentle with you, and that’s what truly mattered.

You hear the sound of Mr. Silvair moving around in the room adjacent to the one you typically stayed in, and you wonder to yourself what his plans for today are. The tall, long-haired man spent most of his time engaged in research. You didn’t see him as frequently as one would expect despite the fact you two were practically roommates. All you could do was hope he wasn’t messing around with and subsequently angering any more terrifying, violent ghosts. You enjoyed your current home, and going out to look for another one wasn’t very high on your list of things to do.

The Rubik’s Cube in your hand was still as scattered as ever, and it seemed like, no matter how long you spent trying to solve it, you were only able to successfully complete one side. Mr. Masque was kind enough to give it to you (he apparently had a whole stash of the things somewhere), and his gift was something you were immensely grateful for. Attempting to figure out the puzzle helped you pass the time wherever you were alone (and it most likely helped you keep your head on straight).

You’re currently lying flat on your back atop the plush bed in the relatively empty living space, looking up at the gray concrete ceiling with a blank stare. Once you decide you’ve loafed around for long enough, you stand up slowly from the bed, placing the cube gently on the covers of the cot. You stretch your arms above your head, a strangled noise coming from your throat at the movement of your stiff muscles, and you begin to make your way to the other room where your…

What even was Mr. Silvair to you? While yes, you were fond of him – hell, you’d go as far as to say you loved him – you knew he didn’t feel the same. You remember the moment he told you “I not understand like”, and that he didn’t want to save you from your condition, no… he found you entertaining to keep around, and that’s why he did what he did.

It was complicated, you thought, trying to have a relationship with a being who didn’t grasp what the concept of love was. Deep down, though, you knew you wouldn’t change it for the world. He enjoyed your presence, and that was all you could ask for.

You walk over to the metal door and knock, waiting for a response. After a moment, you hear Mr. Silvair’s voice echo, “Enter.”

The door opens with a slight creak as you twist the knob, peeking your head inside the somewhat grimy space. The room, still fairly new, didn’t have as much blood or gore as his old one did. There were fresh stains on the floor and wall, you noted, and you couldn’t help but wonder who or what they were from exactly. It didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, though, so you didn’t bother asking.

You grin up at the taller man and give him a small wave, saying softly, “Hello. I not bother?”

He returns your smile, placing the scalpel in his hand on the stainless steel tray that held a variety of medical tools. It looked like he was in the process of cleaning the many, typically blood-stained, pieces of equipment. Mr. Silvair turns to face you and replies gently, “Hello. You not bother. Enter.”

Tilting his head to one side, his long, silver locks move when he does, cascading down his head and slipping off his shoulder at the movement. His smile drops slightly before he asks, “Feeling unwell? Injured? Need cure?”

“No, no cure.” You quickly say, not quite in the mood to be dissected or taken apart right now (honestly, though, you never really were, even if you did understand why it needed to be done). You pause by the door before finally shutting it behind you, the both of you now alone in the private and secluded space.

Ugh – why was it so hard to say what was on your mind??

After taking a moment to build up your confidence, you tell Mr. Silvair while fidgeting with the rubber of the clear raincoat you wore, “I want see you. Communicate.”

He hums and smiles at your admission, walking over to you before placing a calloused hand on your face. Your eyes close on instinct, and your breathing shutters when he rubs his thumb across your cheek. A part of you wanted to be annoyed with him since he had to be aware of the effect he had on you, yet you didn’t want to run the risk of him removing his cool palm from your skin, so you kept your mouth shut.

It had taken quite some time for Mr. Silvair to get to this point of physical affection with you (something he began doing more often after he saw how much you enjoyed getting head-pats from Mr. Crawling), so you didn’t want to ruin any progress you two had made in your complicated and unconventional relationship.

“Okay,” Mr. Silvar starts, removing his hand from your face as he gestures to one of the two chairs in the room. He smiles down at you before saying, “Sit. We communicate.”

You do as you’re told without speaking another word, your hands folded in your lap after you sit down, watching Mr. Silvair take a seat on the chair across from you. You talk with him for quite some time, doing your best to update him on your current progress with the puzzle since that was pretty much the only thing you had going on in your life. While it wasn’t satisfying to speak in the other world’s language because it tended to miss most of the nuances of speech, it was the only way the two of you could communicate.

Mr. Silvair seemed to pick up on your frustration, seeing you were growing annoyed at the lack of words in your arsenal – the term you were looking for wasn't coming to mind. In response, he tilts his head to the side and asks you, “You upset. Why?”

“Not right words.” You reply, brows furrowed when you look up at him, your gaze landing on the bloody bandages wrapped around his eyes. You turn your head to look down at the floor, the somewhat fresh pool of blood perfectly matching the color of the Rubik’s Cube. You point to the puddle and turn to ask Mr. Silvair, “What’s this called in your language? Can you tell me how to say this color?”

“Blood.” Mr. Silvair responds, not understanding what you wanted him to explain.

“No, no.” You quickly reply, shaking your head. You continue to glance between him and the blood, enunciating your words even though he didn’t understand your language the same way you were able to understand his. You didn’t back down or give up, though, saying again, “The color – I want to know what color blood is.”

He pauses, one hand under his chin as he seemingly takes a moment to figure out what you are asking him. After a few beats, Mr. Silvair replies with a word you haven’t heard anyone speak before, “???”

You visibly brighten at the new word, and the expression on your face causes Mr. Silvair to let out a light chuckle before he crosses one of his legs over the other. You take a breath before telling him, “Okay. Thank you.”

After another pause, you continue to speak, “So… One part object done, red part. Other parts hard – not finish.”

Mr. Silvair had been leaning forward in his chair, his elbow digging into his knee while his hand rested under his chin, holding his head up as he stared at you with an unwavering gaze. He always listened to you with rapt interest, and you would be lying if you said the constant attention didn’t make your heart stutter in your chest. However, he suddenly speaks, pointing to the pool of blood you had been gesturing toward moments before, “What you call that?”

“Huh?” You ask, pausing your story to look at him. Mr. Silvair doesn’t say anything else, though, giving you a moment to comprehend what he has asked you. You perk up when your brain finally registers what Mr. Silvair had said, replying to him happily, “Oh, that’s the color red. So, blood is typically red – blood red.”

“R-ehd?” He echos, and the sound of his voice speaking a word that you were able to understand without having to flip through your mental dictionary had your breath hitching. It sounded so strange but so nice coming from his lips.

“Yeah, red! Blood is red!” You say, sounding excited and oh-so happy. Mr. Silvair would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t find the look on your face and the tone of your voice endearing. Then, your expression shifts slightly as you lean forward in your chair, saying enthusiastically, “Oh my god – I just got an idea! Me teach you me language!”

“...You language?” Mr. Silvair asks after a moment, shifting in his seat slightly.

“Yes! Me teach you!” You reply, gesturing to both him and you with your hands. Your mind remembers the way Mr. Silvair and Mr. Chopped helped you shortly after you first arrived, teaching you directions to walk, facial expressions, and more. They had helped you expand your knowledge of this world’s language, and they were probably responsible for your survival in so many of those early interactions. So, you smile at him as you say, “We same.”

He returns a smile, nodding his head and replying with a simple, “Okay.”

“Alright, so, let me think here…” You hum to yourself, leaning back in your chair and closing your eyes while you consider what you should start with. Body parts seemed to be the first thing that popped into your head, so that’s eventually what you decided to start with. Sitting up in the chair, you point toward your hand with the other, tapping a finger to your palm as you speak, “Okay, so, this is my hand – hand. Can you say hand?”

It was kind of cute, strangely enough, seeing Mr. Slivair take the time to repeat the word you spoke over and over in his mind, trying to match the movement of your mouth with his own. Your languages were quite different in sounds, syllables, and the like, so he was practicing what to say before actually speaking. After a few moments of contemplation, he replies, “...H-ah-nd.”

“Hey, that was pretty good! Not bad for your first try, Mr. Silvair, even if the pronunciation is a bit off.” You say with a wide smile, clapping your hands together as you applaud him on his efforts. He chuckles again, finding your way of teaching to be… sweet.

Then, you speak again, once again grabbing his attention. You tap the pad of your finger under the skin of your eye, asking him, “Do you remember what this is called? I think I’ve told you before.”

Mr. Silvair is quicker in his response this time, having heard you ask him about his own eyes before as he smoothly says, “Eye.”

“Yes! Good job!” You praise once more, giving him a thumbs up in response. Then, he stands up from his seat, walking over to you while his once-white lab coat flows behind him. You crane your head back to look up at him from where you were still sitting, a simple and stupid, “...Huh?” leaving your mouth.

Mr. Silvair reaches a hand to your face, cupping your chin gently in his hand. You feel his thumb resting on your bottom lip, and he begins to move his finger back and forth along the slightly chapped flesh, tugging at it slightly. He tilts his head to the side, asking you seriously, “What this called?”

“Oh, uh…” You know your face is probably flushed beyond belief at this point if the heat cascading through your head is anything to go by, and your mind and heart are completely caught off-guard by his sudden touch and question. You avert your gaze to the side, swallowing harshly before you finally reply, “They’re my lips – they’re, umm… similar to mouth. Lips, mouth, same.”

“...Lips?” Mr. Silvair asks again for clarification, his voice having an almost husky tone to it that has a shiver travel down your spine.

You nod in response, muttering a barely audible, “Yes…”

Mr. Silvair hums at your response, a small smile gracing his lips. He leans down, face so close to yours, before he inquires with an almost teasing tone to his voice, “You want touch?”

“Y-Yes.” You answer at an almost embarrassingly fast speed.

The man who you had grown so fond of chuckles at your enthusiasm before leaning forward, pressing his lips softly to yours while he holds your face between his palms. Kisses weren’t a common thing between the two of you, and they were really only something Mr. Silvair initiated when he felt like it. You could feel the intensity at which your heart was beasting due to his sudden affections, and there was a part of you that was worried it would burst out of your chest right then and there.

Your eyes flutter shut and you tilt your head to the side, your hands coming up to rest atop his – his hands that were holding your cheeks so, so gently. It was almost sickening the way he was holding you like you could break at any moment.

Then, almost as quickly as it began, the kiss ended before you even realized it did. Mr. Silvair’s forehead was now pressed against yours, and he doesn’t make any move to remove his hands from your face. Your lips were no longer touching, and yet he still lingered.

Mr. Silvair didn’t play fair, you thought, yet you couldn’t help but wonder why he wanted to kiss you so suddenly, so randomly. You close your eyes and your brows furrow at the tightening in your throat, an aching sensation slowly spreading throughout your chest like a disease before you whisper, “...I love you.”

There’s a silence, a stretch of nothingness before Mr. Silvair suddenly asks you, his voice just as soft as yours had been, “Repeat?”

“...No,” Your response is nearly immediate, and you shake your head before repeating once more, “Nothing.”

“...I love you.” The sound of those three words leaving his lips nearly causes your mind to implode. It sounded so sweet, yet it also felt worse than any suffering you had experienced before. The searing and excruciating pain, the feeling of a blade digging itself into the flesh of your torso couldn’t compare to the deep-seated torment you felt right now.

Mr. Silvair hums, tilting his head to the side as his thumbs continue to caress your cheeks, “What mean?”

You knew there was no point, no reason to try and explain your feelings again, but you do. You still do, even though you know it’s pointless to try. You can’t bring yourself to look at him as you speak, finding the concrete floor more interesting, “Mean… mean me like you. Lot like.”

There’s a pause, a moment of contemplation before Mr. Silvair says, “...Not understand.”

“I know.” You reply, nodding your head once in response.

“You know?” He asks you, sounding somewhat confused, a tone you very rarely heard from the man. Had he forgotten that moment that you couldn’t seem to forget, the memory that you continuously found replaying in your mind like a broken record? It wasn’t fair, you thought, that only you were forced to hold onto such a painful memory.

“You communicate before.” You clarify, finally willing yourself to look at his face. Mr. Silvair’s expression was tight, his lips drawn into a flat line.

You needed to get away, to just run from this moment in the hopes he would forget the whole exchange just as he apparently did the last one. You take your hands and grab his wrists, removing his palms from your face before you stand up from the chair. You refuse to look at him as you turn, heading to the door as you utter, “...I’m going to go for a walk, so I’ll be back later. Goodbye.”

Then, you feel something tug at the sleeve of your raincoat. It wasn’t strong, nothing that would actually stop you from moving, but your legs proceeded to hault at the small action. Mr. Silvair says, his tone not demanding in the slightest – if anything, it sounded like a plea as he speaks, “No exit.”

You take a deep breath and turn around to face him, asking in such a small voice that it even caught yourself off-guard, “...Why?”

“I want you here.” Mr. Silvair responds quickly, so quickly it seems to have taken both of you by surprise. The two of you stare at each other for a moment before he asks, finally releasing the material of your jacket from in between his fingers, “Stay… Will you stay?”

You once again find yourself wondering if Mr. Silvair was aware of the effect he had on you as a sigh leaves your mouth. You nod your head lightly and reply, “I will stay.”

“Good.” He says in response, a gentle smile on his face as he says for the second time, “I love you.”

You frown at him and shake your head, saying with a slight edge of frustration in your voice, “No speak. Not true.”

“True… Believe true.” He says quickly, reaching out to once again place a hand against your cheek. You don’t move, don’t flinch away from his touch – you still relish the way he’s holding you like a fragile piece of glass. Mr. Silvair’s brows are furrowed ever so slightly as he mutters, “Confused.”

“You’re telling me… How do you think I feel?” You say with a huff, your hand holding into his as you find yourself nuzzling your nose into his palm. The painful feeling in your chest was still present, but it wasn’t nearly as excruciating as it had been now. You find it in yourself to smile, gazing up at him as you speak, “...but we’ll get through it together – we together. Right?”

“To-geh-ther…” He repeats, leaning down to press his forehead to yours once more as he says softly, “Yes.”

#🌸 . plum writes #💌 . anon #homicipher #文字化化 #homicipher x reader #homicipher x you #mr silvair #mr silvair x reader #mr silvair x you #homicipher imagines #homicipher drabbles #imagines #drabble #one shot #fluff #x reader #reader insert

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staryuee · 2 months ago

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hi ! ru still taking reqs? if so i hv one for u:

diluc, ei, ganyu, itto, venti and xiao's reactions when u tell them ur from another world?

kinda like traveler lowkey - since traveler did introduce u to [char]. so what happens when they clear out the fog of your origins? (lets also make u extremely overpowered 👍)

my apologies for the abundance of characters i want u to write for :( - i may or may not think out of all the people who's works i've read ur the best? aoqooqoao don't mind that but tysm if u take my req! ily :D

S/O THAT’S FROM ANOTHER WORLD

꒰warnings꒱ honkai star rail references, not proofread oopsie

⠀꒲ ` characters . . . diluc, venti, zhongli, ganyu, xiao, ei, itto

⠀꒲ ` notes . . . i’m currently on a hsr grind so i just decided to steal both that universe and technically the elements of honkai impact to feed into my delusions ♡

traversing the planets that sprinkle the gorgeous celestial galaxy above has led you to a sticky situation. for the past several months you’ve been wandering around the land known as ‘teyvat’ with the kind traveler aiding you as someone who understands your predicament all too well.

it wouldn’t have been so weird for you as a trailblazer - after all, a nameless’s job is to explore the cosmos and the planets that dot the universe - but what made it undoubtedly difficult was the fact you were: A. alone. B. in a whole different branch of the imaginary tree. C. completely attached to a person from this precarious world.

see, over the course of your adventure you’ve met so many different types of people; some the equivalent of scraping nails on a chalkboard and some…or should i say someone, who’s been at your loving side ever since their heart skipped a beat for you.

R. DILUC — 迪卢克

ʚ diluc doesn’t like to assume things unless it’s built on a foundation of logic and evidence. so this was an absolute surprise to him.

ʚ your sweet and silly habits, the little mumbles you kept to yourself, your reliance on him to converse with others…he thought those were just endearing quirks of yours! not because you were from a whole other world!!

ʚ listen, he’s not mad, per se. you’re the love of his life (as absolutely corny as that sounds), but he doesn’t appreciate having something like this be brought up so randomly and not with precaution. the traveler was one thing, this was another. he loved you. he needs to sit down for a moment…

ʚ in the grand scheme of things, this revelation made a lot of sense. there were moments you mentioned little tidbits about your personal life where it had him scratching his head. you were freely allowed to have secrets and friends outside of mondstadt…but it came to a point where he was absolutely sure you were making things up.

ʚ what do you mean you reminded him of a man called argenti? he didn’t particularly enjoy getting compared to another man of all things…but you seemed pretty happy with yourself so he’ll let it slide. you’re missing someone named…kiana? well, he’s not exactly sure who that is, but he’d be happy to escort you to meet them?

ʚ it was sweet, really—how much he tried to appease your little waves of nostalgia and nights of sorrow with nonchalant compliance while he had no knowledge of your situation. but, now that he has…everything has become so much more convoluted.

ʚ he’s already a man of very few words, preferring actions to prove his love than mere bluffs—but how was he meant to show you anything when all you ever want is something out of his reach?

ʚ diluc has never been in a position where he couldn’t give someone he loved something they desired. you manage to surprise him even now.

ʚ aside from the guilt he feels about not being able to give you more than a hug and a kiss with a muttered “it’ll be okay, sweetheart”, he’s utterly proud and in awe of you.

ʚ you were truly something else in battle. fierce, swift, barely visible through smoke and gashes of elements bombarding together like an alchemy lesson gone wrong—he couldn’t have asked for a better partner.

ʚ if diluc was one for relaxing in fairytale bliss, he wouldn’t hesitate to lean back as you slaughtered with delicate ease with a dreamy grin on his face.

VENTI — 温迪

ʚ venti knows every song from the past, present and the future. the future being the most helpful for situations like this.

ʚ but he certainly didn’t expect for you to just say it out right! i mean, he had suspicions (you called him wendy upon your first meeting, he immediately knew there was something curious about you…), but you’ve never really mentioned it before.

ʚ his initial reaction was a mix of unbridled curiosity and utter joy. he has SO many questions which he will let you use as payment instead of mora for every ballad and sonnet he sings for you. but also… you trusted him with this information? fr? (>﹏<)

ʚ he is SO down for you to chat shit about people who pissed you off in your world. will he understand any of the factions or wars involved? nope! but he’s always willing to listen to his windblume when they’re caressing and squshjng at his cheeks as a form of venting relief.

ʚ not only are you a super intriguing storyteller, one that does a heck of a good job to give him the proper material for future ballads, you’re so powerful and talented it makes him shiver! (*≧ω≦)

ʚ he already loved watching your skilful fingers wrap around a weapon…but watching your entire demeanour shift and posture straighten after you’ve left a residue of dust from a hoard of enemies? ooh you’ve got him wrapped around your finger.

ʚ there is a certain bittersweetness to your predicament however… being the god of the freedom of all things means a lot of things, but one thing in particular that makes his heart ache: eventually, he’ll have to let you go.

ʚ and not in a dramatic romeo and juliet way, or an anti-commitment way—in the way that this isn’t your home. and venti would never deprive you of the chance to see your own peers and family.

ʚ what’s a little distance to a god who’s already been alone for most his life anyway?

ZHONGLI — 钟离

ʚ “i know.” were the only words that left his lips as soon as you reveal your identity. he never delves deeper into how he knew; or perhaps he didn’t and is just lying to save face…either way, he remains silent with a complaisant smile as he once again picks up his teacup.

ʚ it’s awfully unsettling how this proclamation is met with such nonchalance, but to be fair, he’s a god, and a dragon at that—he’s seen and been the fault of countless of empires falling and rising, including the one you’re standing in today with qingxin’s in your hair, he’s not fazed, but he is certainly intrigued.

ʚ won’t hesitate to bombard you with questions, slowly of course, he doesn’t wish to overwhelm you.

ʚ it’s not every day he gets to speak with someone who’s from a world completely unlike his own who’s actually willing to share their tales and past. of course the traveler was there to chat about their own experiences, but it always felt like they were leaving portions of their story covered.

ʚ it’s not every day he gets to speak with someone who’s from a world completely unlike his own who’s actually willing to share their tales and past. of course, the traveler was there to chat about their own experiences, but it always felt like they were leaving portions of their story covered.

ʚ he’s suddenly a lot more in tune with your habits and quirks, he enjoys the whole process of guessing what things you’ve adapted to and learn from teyvat and the things you’ve clearly been conditioned into by your past.

ʚ silly things like calling accidentally calling the archons “herrscher”, face suddenly going limp with sorrow at the mention of murata, he also does think it’s a little funny you mimic his osmanthus wine line with one of your own…something to do with life being ephemeral and being filled with worldly strife.

ʚ aside from your unique quirks, another obvious thing that caught his eye was your power. he’s seen many a mortal in his life—some of which had left puffed scarring in his psyche from their sheer strength and will.

ʚ but you? you were something else. he couldn’t even tell if it was just because he loved you so much that anything you did amazed him, or because it was simply endearing to see his partner so nonchalantly powerful.

ʚ he may or may not pull the grandpa card occasionally to watch you in action. Can he technically match you in power? possibly. but you should forgive the old dragon, he merely enjoys watching you get sweaty as he sips tea, is that so wrong?

GANYU — 甘雨

ʚ ganyu is barely awake when she comes home to you, so when you suddenly revealed such news, it abruptly awoke her. yes, she nearly lost a horn in the process—please don’t mention the bump on her forehead.

ʚ despite ganyu being extremely intelligent and quietly observant like an white barn owl with hooded eyes, this was the last thing she expected: was teyvat some sort of resort for outlanders strewn off their course? or did the gods specifically send you down here so you can play with her heart?

ʚ the revelation doesn’t change much apart from your late night pillow talks. suddenly, even the sleepy goat preferred counting the moles and freckles on your skin than imaginary sheep. please do enlighten her about your world!! she will soak up any information and perhaps help you relive some memories with some diy—she’s sure she can remake the food from the xianzhou luofu with some mismatched ingredients!

ʚ one thing that intrigued her immediately about your travels was the place called penacony; you seriously visited a world where dreams were a reality? where you can simply let go of the troubles of life and engage in mindless fun? that was far too out of her realm of imagination, but she was certainly replaying the image you placed in her mind during her late hours at work.

ʚ however…the rest of the story about the dreamy land solidified in her mind that maybe those few hours with ink are worth more than indulging in delusions…

ʚ your martial art skills and general technique with your desired weapon had also piqued her interest, but she had never really put too much emphasis on it or thought to express her curiosity. after all, it’s not like she gets out of liyue much—perhaps this was merely a style from one of the other nations?

ʚ of course, with the present context, she was now even more intrigued! you have to teach her some of those cool choreography moves! you practically use the entire battlefield like a dance floor, sliding around to avoid enemy attacks with such poise and grace you’d think you were merely doing ballet. she’s never been so motivated for something so seemingly trivial to you.

ʚ there’s certainly a hint of worry with your whereabouts. after all, doesn’t this mean you’ll eventually have to make it back home? if so, would you be potentially willing to return to her if your heartbeats ever sync again?

XIAO — 魈

ʚ that explains a lot of the mumbles you told him not to worry about where in which you compared him to people he’s never heard of in teyvat - i mean he barely remembers the blurry faces of people he’s encountered but even so.

ʚ i mean who in the world was blade?? like the weapon? if so, that’s a rather cruel comparison for a man used as a killing slave for most his life.

ʚ he did think it was weird that despite your long stay in teyvat, you hadn’t managed to properly integrate yourself into their cultures - though he wasn’t really one to judge you for that, he was born to protect liyue and he still hasn’t got a clue how to socialise, so really? he understood you all too well.

ʚ soon as you admitted to him your story, it’s like all the lanterns in his head suddenly flutter with light. ah, so you’re not just an outcast weirdo—you’re quite literally from a different planet.

ʚ xiao isn’t one to be super intrigued about other people, his life and duty is specifically intended for the protection of liyue and its people. he has no time to wonder about what’s beyond that.

ʚ but…since it’s you, he’ll try. during those alone nights at the inn, him wrapped up in your arms like an injured kitten as you brush away the dark streaks of hair clinging to his bloodied forehead—he’ll ask.

ʚ did you have any friends? any family? did they love you? what sort of things did you experience? …do you miss them?

ʚ he rarely wants the answer to the last one, he shuts it out almost entirely. he can’t bear the thought of you potentially yearning for somewhere, or even someone, that wasn’t him. it was petty and selfish—but for the first time in his sacrificial life, he allowed it.

ʚ as for your power…he’s not one to be impressed by something he was literally designed for, but it was another thing to watch you work so diligently. it was…admirable.

ʚ there’s been times where you’ve surprised him, and unintentionally hurt his ego. he’s supposed to be YOUR protector, he wants to be. because if he isn’t, what else can he be? you can’t just swoop in and snatch him by the waist while he’s in the middle of training because you think he’s in trouble!

RAIDEN EI — 影

ʚ she truly believes she misheard you at first.

ʚ you’re from where? huh? speak up, please before the stoic shogun breaks down.

ʚ you can’t be from somewhere unreachable…you were hers. and now you’re telling her you belong to a whole other world?

ʚ it’s a poignant moment. on one hand, she’s deeply honoured that you trusted her to admit something so important to you, but truly…the idea you were just barely hers made her irrationally upset.

ʚ once she gets over the sulking, ei finds a little peace with you as you retell some stories of your own life. it’s a little healing almost, knowing you handled yourself so fiercely without her need of protection.

ʚ another raiden shogun? well you better pray you hadn’t dated because otherwise…she’s not sure she can keep that purple electricity of hers in check enough to not leave a branch-like streak across your face (she wouldn’t dare no matter how tempting the idea of branding you as hers the thought may be).

ʚ yae sakura and miko though? now that was certainly interesting. at least she finally had a conversation starter with the kitsune that strayed from the typical teasing.

ʚ you must know that she will absolutely be using this information against you, in the most lighthearted manner of course.

ʚ no it’s actually very normal in the inazuman custom for a shogun to eat a handful of sweets before dinner, you simply haven’t heard of it! yup she also must be the little spoon at night no matter how much smaller or bigger you are from her—it’s a status thing, so come on, get to it.

A. ITTO — 荒泷一斗

ʚ OH SHIT??

ʚ unexpected, bewildered and absolutely enamoured.

ʚ not only did he manage to bag an absolute gorgeous partner, one that could kick ass like it was second nature, but also one that was from some super cool other world?! oh babe you shouldn’t have said anything, he will absolutely chew your ear off with this.

ʚ nonstop talking and questioning— did you have things like this in your world?? when reference to the most common items. dig you also have rain? did you wake up before dawn or was it always night in your realm? do you have family? what were they like? friends? gasp LOVERS?

ʚ ooh he suddenly couldn’t take it. he knows you’re the most beautiful, handsomest, prettiest person alive—but just the thought of someone else—someone who he couldn’t fight!!—thinking the same thing before he ever did made his stomach feel all funny.

ʚ were there monsters and freaks in your world too? and did you love them as much as you hopefully loved him?

ʚ he knows it’s a little unfair to expect you to only have had eyes for him, but for the sake of his ego…it’s much better to keep past romantic endeavours to yourself. he’s currently more than content that the great arataki itto is your first TEYVAT! boyfriend. no other dude from some shammy planet could change that significant status.

©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost ♡ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪʜᴇᴀʀᴛɢᴀɴʏᴜ

#aaahhh i’m so swamped with exams. i need reprieve…#pls don’t take psychology. or art. or english lit…╭(╯3╰)╮#genshin x reader #gi x reader #genshin x gnreader #genshin x you #diluc x reader #venti x reader #zhongli x reader #ganyu x reader #xiao x reader #ei x reader #raiden shogun x reader #raiden x reader #itto x reader #genshin x gn!reader

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krirebr · 3 days ago

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Lips Like Sugar 2

Pairing: sugar baby Ransom x late 40s female reader

Word Count: ~3.4k

Summary: Finally cut off by his mother and grandfather, Ransom has to find a new way to access the lifestyle he's accustomed to. He figures it won't be too hard to find some rich old lady willing to bankroll him in exchange for sex. You aren't exactly what he expected.

Warnings: sugar baby au, sex work, d/s relationship, power imbalance, explicit language—All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by me

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: I'm having too much fun with this one! Where did all the angst go????????

Huge thanks to @bigtreefest for talking through so much of this with me. Thanks for being so fun to riff with, Essie!

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too!

As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

Ransom checked his hair in the mirror for the fifth time, rolling his eyes at himself. It was fine, he looked hot. Why was he so nervous? Probably because he was down to thirty-three days before he had to be moved into somewhere new. He didn’t think he’d ever felt this kind of pressure before.

He was going to be meeting you for the first time in—he checked his watch—twenty-six minutes. You had asked him if he’d like to meet for dinner two days ago. Well, no, that wasn’t quite right. You’d sent him a message that said, “Let me take you to dinner,” and when he’d said he’d like that, you followed up with, “Great. My assistant will be in touch with the details.” There wasn’t really much asking involved.

And that seemed to be par for the course with you. When you wanted to stop communicating through the app, you’d said, “We should take this conversation to texts.” When you wanted to know something, you’d say, “Tell me about…” And when you wanted to see more of him, you said, “I bet you have such a pretty cock, send me a picture.” Thank god, he’d already had a bunch of dick pics locked and loaded.

It was uncommon for him to feel like he was on his back foot so much. He rationalized that it was because all of the communicating so far had been over texts. It would be better in person. He would be better. More in control. More in his element.

He looked in the mirror a sixth time. He looked fucking good. He was wearing a crisp, long-sleeve button-down in a dusty shade of blue that matched his eyes. He had it unbuttoned lower than necessary, but not so much that it’d be too slutty for an upscale restaurant. He paired it with his tightest gray slacks and finished the look with his Italian loafers. Fuck, yeah, he looked good. He looked expensive.

He drove himself to the restaurant your assistant had made a reservation at and handed the keys over to the valet. Maybe he should be saving the little money he had right now, but if everything went to plan tonight, he wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore. It was a show of confidence, he thought, as he handed the folded bills over to the kid parking his car.

Just as he made his way inside and gave his name to the hostess, his phone buzzed with another text from your personal assistant, Julia.

Hi, Ransom. Her last meeting of the day went long, so she’s going to be a little late for dinner. She wanted me to tell you to go ahead and order whatever appetizers and drinks you want. She should only be about fifteen minutes.”

Damn it, the one time he tried to be ontime, he was left waiting. This was why he was always late. But no, tonight he’d wanted to make a good impression. And of course, it bit him in the ass. So, fuck yeah, he’d order whatever he wanted.

The hostess led him to a lone table in a private room. That’s what he was fucking talking about. This was the treatment he deserved. Private dining, special menus, special treatment. He couldn’t wait to get used to this.

But first, he needed to close the deal. He needed to convince you that you needed him, that he was worth taking care of. He’d never had a job interview before, but if there was one thing he could do, it was turn up the charm. He was gonna flirt like his life depended on it. Because it did.

So he ordered a Macallan and the carpaccio and decided to use this extra time to strategize.

Later, Ransom would deny it, but he felt the air still when you finally walked into the room twenty minutes later. It was clear you’d come straight from the office, your belted shirtdress reeking professionalism. But it was also obviously designer and had been tailored to fit your curves perfectly. And there was an elegance too that wasn’t out of place here. Combined with the obviously high-quality jewelry you wore, it was clear you belonged in rooms like this. He could see it immediately, you were dripping not just money but sophistication.

He’d only seen you in bits and pieces in your profile. Carefully cropped photos, so as not to give away the whole of you. He’d assumed that meant you’d been hiding something. He hadn’t put much thought to what, only focused on the dollar signs. Figuring he could make anything work as long as it came with enough money. But now, seeing you, all of you, in person, he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why you would want to hide any of it. His worries of how much he’d need to rely on little blue pills completely disappeared.

You strode toward him quickly, and he stood up to greet you. “Ransom,” you said, your voice warm. “It’s so lovely to see you in person.” You gave him a brief embrace accompanied by a soft peck to his cheek. He felt your touch linger even after you’d sat down in your seat.

He sat down as well. “It’s lovely to see you, too,” he said, his voice pitched low in the way that so many women he’d been with liked. “You’re even more beautiful than I was expecting.” He let his eyes rove over you for a moment, a predator’s smile on his face. It was a move that had worked for him countless times.

So he was surprised when your response was to snort derisively. “Ah, I see I’m in for the hard sell tonight.”

“Excuse me?”

“Listen,” you leaned forward, “I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t already mostly made up my mind. But it’s been a long day, and I’d rather not talk business on an empty stomach, alright?”

Ransom felt his jaw tick, but he tried to school his expression, not let you see how much that irritated him. “And what are we supposed to do instead?” He may not have been completely successful.

You gave a careless shrug. “Try talking to each other like real people?”

Ransom opened his mouth to respond when the waitress approached the table, carrying a bottle of wine. “Welcome back,” she said to you as she poured you both a glass.

“Jen,” you said, smiling broadly, “how are you?”

“I’m doing well. I was happy to hear you and your guest would be joining us tonight. The chef has prepared a tasting menu for you. I’ll be out with the first course shortly.”

“That sounds lovely, thank you. And pass my thanks on to Antonio as well.”

Jen nodded and smiled in response, then left the bottle on the table and exited the small room.

When you turned back to Ransom, he raised an eyebrow. “They know me here,” you said casually.

Yeah, clearly. His thoughts couldn’t help but flit to his mother. How she would kill for this type of treatment. To have her wine brought out to her without ordering. A special menu created just for her. To be on a first-name basis with a five-star chef. He might not be so eager to never see her again if it gave him the chance to tell her about this. To rub her face in it.

His thoughts returned to you when he felt your gaze on him, an expectant look in your eye. You were obviously waiting for him to do something. Shit. What had you said before the waitress came in? That you wanted to talk to each other like real people. Fuck, did he even know how to do that? He cleared his throat, searching for something, and finally asked, “What made your day so long?”

A satisfied smirk passed over your face before transforming into a genuine smile. “Thank you for asking.” You sighed, and he saw it, just for a split second before it was gone again. You were exhausted. “I have many board members with many opinions. Some more informed than others, but I have to listen to them all. Those days can be draining.”

“What kind of company is it?” he asked. You’d been fairly cagey with personal information over texts. He wondered if you might be more forthcoming in person.

“Medical technology,” you said, somewhat dismissively. “Primarily portable scanners for things like MRIs. I won’t bore you with the details.”

Ransom hoped you couldn’t see the dollar signs in his eyes at that. Shit, proprietary tech? You must be loaded. No wonder this restaurant was bending over backwards for you. He would, too, if this night went to plan.

As he was trying to formulate a follow-up question, you switched gears. “What about you? What do you do with your days?”

For one terrifying moment, Ransom’s brain went completely blank. What did he do with his days? Absolutely nothing, if he could help it. He went shopping, he went drinking, he went sunbathing, he read, he watched TV, and he went to the gym. It all added up to a big fat zero and that was the goal; that was why he was doing this now. But that wasn’t what you wanted to hear, was it? No, you wanted him to say that he was putting himself through law school, or caring for a sick parent, or that he wanted to quit the three jobs he hated. There was no way to explain how he’d been able to do absolutely nothing up until this point and why he wasn’t able to continue that way now without getting into who his family was or what they’d done to him. No, thank you. You didn’t need to know any of that.

As a stalling technique, he swirled his wine glass and then took a sip. A little hum escaped him at the taste. Your lips curled up into a smirk. “You like it?” you asked. “Jen brought us one of my favorite bottles. They always have it on hand for me here.”

“It’s excellent,” he said with a nod, which earned him a pleased look from you that he felt in his chest.

Jen chose that moment to come back in, bearing the first course. By the time she’d finished telling you both what was being served, your question to Ransom had been thankfully forgotten.

You took one last bite of your entree, then set your silverware down on your plate decisively. You looked Ransom in the eye. Having your full attention on him was almost disconcerting. “Alright,” you said. “I’d very much like to enter into an arrangement with you. High level, I’ll support you in exchange for you being available to me. What are your initial thoughts on that?”

Fuck. Yes. Finally. He nodded slowly. “Yes, I think I’d like that,” he said, trying to keep his tone even so as not to betray his eagerness.

You smiled like you'd won something. “Excellent. That makes me very happy. Now, what I'm offering: I'll cover all of your living expenses. Rent, utilities, bills–”

He cleared his throat, and you paused, giving him a questioning look. “I need to be out of my current place soon. Very soon. I’ll need a new place to live.”

You took out your phone and immediately started typing. “That’s right, you mentioned that on your profile. I’ll set up a few showings for us in the coming weeks. When do you need to be out of your current place?”

“Thirty-three days,” he said, too quickly.

There was a hint of something in your eyes, recognition, maybe, or– Ransom didn’t know, but whatever it was sat uncomfortably in his chest.

But after looking at him like that for too long, even if it was just a nanosecond, you nodded and made a note in your phone. “I’ll tell my real estate agent to prioritize listings that are available immediately. But, if it takes some time to find one we like or it isn’t available right away, I want you to know that I’ll get you somewhere to stay in the meantime.” You reached over and gently laid your hand over his. “I don't want you to worry about that.”

He swallowed, trying not to show his relief, and nodded.

You waited a beat and then said, “Say ‘thank you,’ Ransom.”

These fucking women. “Thank you,” he gritted out, realizing much too late that he hadn't managed to suppress his accompanying eyeroll.

Luckily, you just chuckled in response. “Oh, I’m gonna have to teach you some manners, aren’t I?”

“Yeah?” he asked, starting to get a read on you. “Is that what you think I need?”

You leaned forward, your voice dropping an octave. “I think you’re begging for someone to put you in your place.”

He matched your posture. “I don’t beg.”

A smirk bloomed on your face. “But you’ll do it for me, won’t you? I’ll teach you how to beg so pretty.”

Ransom cleared his throat as heat engulfed his whole body. That picture of your legs in leather boots that went up to your thighs flashed in his mind. “So that’s your thing? Control?”

You leaned back in your chair. “That’s one of my things,” you said evenly. “But it’s one of yours, too, isn’t it? You marked an interest in submission on your kink list.”

Oh. Well, he must have, amongst all the others he hadn’t really read. And it’d done the trick. He was here, so close to his end goal. He couldn’t back out now. “Yeah.”

You nodded once, seemingly pleased. “And have you been in a relationship like that before?”

“I have,” he lied, adding his own smirk. He was so fucking close.

Your eyes narrowed as you looked at him. You were silent for too long. Then, “I’m going to have a lot of rules for you. We’ll go over them later, but the first one is that you don’t lie to me. Not ever.”

“What–”

“Have you been in a relationship like that before?” Your voice was firm this time, demanding. It almost made him want to–

He swallowed, but didn’t let himself look down. “No,” he said, “I guess I haven’t.”

Your posture relaxed some, but you didn’t let go of his gaze. “Thank you, Ransom, for telling me the truth.” There was a beat of silence that he wondered how to fill, but then you spoke again. “Good boy.”

Suddenly, Ransom could hear his heart beating in his ears. He swallowed dryly. Your expression had turned smug. The irritation that caused in him helped him to shake himself out of whatever had just happened. “Rules, huh?” he asked, trying desperately to regain his defiant air.

The smirk from earlier returned, got wider. It reminded him of that other picture from your profile. The one he’d looked at too many times. It was even better when he could see your whole face. “Yeah, rules. What I want you to wear, where I want you to be, how I want you to speak to me,” you paused, making sure you had his full attention, something sparkling in your eyes, “when and how you’re allowed to cum.”

Heat flooded his face, he wasn’t able to stop it. He felt it travel to the tips of his ears. And by the way the sparkle in your eyes got even more intense, he knew it was visible to you.

You leaned forward again, your voice a little rough, “I was fucking hoping you’d blush pretty for me. Even better than I imagined.”

He didn’t have a response for that, so he looked away for a moment, to the corner of the room. Your gaze was too intense to hold. He cleared his throat again, then looked back at you. “Well,” he said, slow but determined, “for all that I’m going to need a monthly allowance. In addition to everything else.”

You nodded. “I’m prepared to offer $3,000.”

He leaned back in his chair. He had something you wanted. He could see it now. He’d press this advantage. “Seven.”

One corner of your mouth twitched and your eyebrow raised almost imperceptibly. Or it would have been if he hadn’t been watching you so closely. “Greedy boy.”

He shrugged casually. “You wouldn’t respect me if I just blindly accepted your first offer, would you?”

The twitch in your lips turned into a small grin. “Five thousand,” you said, ignoring his question. “Final offer. For now.”

He sat up straight. “For now?”

You nodded. “For now. If we need to look at these things again in a few months, once we’re settled, then we can. Adjust if we need to.”

“Alright. I can accept that.”

“Excellent,” you said, making a few more notes in your phone. “I’ll have the financial elements drawn up and sent over for you to review and sign tomorrow.” With that, you put your phone away, and smiled at him, genuinely. He couldn’t help but smile back.

The shortest moment later, Jen was back with dessert—a chocolate torte dusted with gold, a collection of red berries artfully pressed into its center. She placed it between you and you immediately dismissed her with a sincere, “Thank you, Jen,” without ever moving your gaze from Ransom.

When she was gone, Ransom picked up his dessert fork to have a taste, but you stilled his hand with a quiet, “No,” and picked up your own fork. He struggled to repress his eye roll at whatever power play this was. But you surprised him when, after effortlessly sliding your fork through the cake to collect a small bite, instead of taking it for yourself, you held it over the center of the table. For him.

He reached out to take the fork from you when you admonished him again. “No, Ransom.” He looked at you questioningly, but you just stared back, unblinking, challenging. Finally, he leaned forward and opened his mouth to accept the bite. His eyes slipped shut as he closed his lips around your fork and you slowly pulled it back. As he savored the bittersweet chocolate, he felt the tips of his ears go red again. His eyes snapped back open when he heard you breathe out, “So fucking pretty.”

You gaze was on him, drilling into him and he couldn’t look away. At least until the screen on your designer smart watch flashed. You quickly pressed a button to dismiss the alert, but then it happened again. And again. You sighed as you actually looked at the messages coming in.

“Shit,” you muttered, then gave him an apologetic smile. “I need to go take care of this.” You sighed again, heavily. “I’m sorry to cut our evening short, but please stay as long as you’d like and enjoy the dessert. Everything’s been taken care of. Julia will reach out with the details of the apartment showings.”

He stood up as you did, still a little dazed from you fucking feeding him that cake. You took the few short steps to join him on his side of the table. You wordlessly placed your hand on his cheek and brushed your thumb over his bottom lip. Then you grasped the back of his neck with your other hand and pulled him into a kiss.

It was– It was fucking dirty. Wet and hot and demanding. He kept trying to gain control of it, but you wouldn’t let him. You wouldn’t give up anything. It was the closest he’d ever felt to being consumed.

Too soon, you pulled away, leaving him a little breathless. Your hand was still on his cheek. “I will see you so soon,” you said, softly. Then you pulled away, and left. You were already on the phone demanding details by the time you’d made it to the door.

Ransom just stood there for a moment, trying to let his mind catch up. Then he let out a breath. He’d done it. He’d gotten everything he wanted. He sat back down in his chair and picked up his fork. This cake seemed like the perfect way to celebrate.

Tag List is open!

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#lips like sugar #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale #knives out #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans characters #fanfic #sugar baby au #sugar baby ransom drysdale #reader insert #sub ransom drysdale #domme reader #kris wrote something

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ghoul-bonez · 2 years ago

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~To You He Feels Like Home~

(Neteyam x Fem! Na’vi! Reader)

Summary: You were always a wild child, literally and figuratively. You were raised by the forest and by the creatures that lived within it, and you would never want it any other way, but when you were discovered by another Na’vi you are overcome with curiosity although the animals that raised you always warned you about the outsiders.

Word Count: 5.1k

Author’s Note: This is my longest oneshot to date, at 5.1k words & 11 google docs pages, and I’ve been working on it for weeks now… Hopefully you guys will like it :D This fic was inspired by @imeanwhynotbruv ‘s Mowlie! Spider AU which I LOVE!!! Very excited for y’all to read :)

~Last - Next~

~Series Masterlist~

~Main Masterlist~

To You He Feels Like Home

You were always wild, even as a young child. Part of that could be attributed to who was raising you, how you were being raised, and part of it was because of your personality. It came down to nurture versus nature, or nurture and nature.

You were wild by nurture, raised by the Great Mother, by her forest, and by the animals that inhabited it. In particular there was a mother palulukan who had taken you into her den with her two cubs. She was your protector, your teacher, your mother. She loved you, and that was all you needed.

You were wild by nature, always bouncing around, never able to sit still. You were fierce and strong, stubborn at times, and intelligent as could be, which you used to your advantage. It was good for your survival, but exhausting to your mother palulukan, and the other animals who had taken you under their wings to teach you different survival skills.

They had all had a part in your upbringing, every animal teaching you something different. Their lessons had turned you into the woman you were today, they had taught you how to survive, and not just that, but how to thrive.

The palulukan had taught you to fight, how to attack and pounce, and win. She had taught you to protect yourself in any situation. She had taught you that no matter how small you were, how weak you may seem to your opponent, that there would always be a way to come out on top.

The syaksyuk had taught you how to swing from tree to tree, how to escape from harm's way quickly, may you choose not to fight. They taught you about community and how to work together to get to your goal.

The yerik had taught you how to scare off predators, and if that didn’t work how to run, how to pace yourself and run for longer than you thought you could. They taught you to stay calm, to not let fear overtake you as you ran.

The nantang made sure you knew how to hunt, how to stalk then attack and finish off your prey. They made sure you could feed yourself. They made you work in a team, to take everyone's different skills into account.

The ikrans that visited from the mountains taught you how to navigate the air, although you could only do so with their help. They would show you how different different parts of the land were. They showed you what you and your family of creatures looked from above.

Your upbringing was untraditional and many Na’vi would question how you had even survived, but you knew how. There was a sense of community in your animal family that could never be rivaled. You wouldn't have it any other way.

Of course there were still things you had to teach yourself, like weaving and making clothes. This had taken some trial and error as you had started as a very young child, needing to form this skill for more protection against the elements and the forest. You had figured it out later than you would have liked, but eventually you got there and had created your own outfits.

Then you had to teach yourself how to make weapons, and how to use them. You had mastered making spears out of branches when you were young, and quickly moved on to finding hard enough materials to make knives and other blades. When your mother palulukan had noticed your proficiency of making weapons she had started bringing back lost Na’vi weapons like bows and hunting knives.

After lots of trials and errors, from carving the body wrong to tying the sting wrong, you had mastered making a bow. You had found the perfect type of wood, strong enough to hold up, but soft enough to carve. You had found the perfect string made from woven plant fibers. When you carved your final masterpiece the curve of the wood was perfect and the string strung tightly enough to work perfectly.

Then came using it. You had never seen anyone use one, and your mother palulukan refused to let you anywhere near other Na’vi, so you struggled. You had tried over, and over, and over again, and eventually it paid off. Your stance was wrong to most, strange looking to others, but it worked perfectly for you.

With all of your combined skills, ones the animals of Pandora had taught you and ones you had taught yourself, you had become a lethal hunter. Once you proved yourself capable your mother palulukan let you off on your own.

At the age of eighteen years you had been sent free, allowed to explore as you wanted, and so you did. You ran through the forest with excitement coursing through your veins. You climbed and swung from tree to tree without a care for your safety. You swam in streams and shook the water from your loose hair as you resurfaced. You hunted for your own food, coming up successful every time.

You felt free.

You had been so used to your mother palulukan hunting for you that doing it on your own was enthralling. It gave you a rush unlike any other, but you never took more than you and your family could eat, dragging it back home to your palulukan family’s den.

Your little family had never eaten like this before. They had never had a meal every day, sometimes going as many as five days without food, instead giving leftovers to you, the little Na’vi they had taken in who needed it more than they did. Now you made sure they were fed daily, you took care of them like they had you.

As much as you loved the takedown of your prey, your favorite part of hunting was the stalking. You loved tracking things, finding a scent trail and following it until you found prints in the ground. You loved watching the prey once you found it, staying hidden in the shadows and observing.

Sometimes you would even track when you weren’t hunting, practicing for later or simply wanting to observe the other animals of the forest. You especially loved watching the nantang packs as they were similar to your family but also so different.

Today had been no different, you had been out searching for the trail of a nantang pack wanting to watch and observe. However that plan changed when you caught a whiff of something you had never smelled before. It reminded you of something, yourself, but you didn’t know why.

You couldn’t help but do what you do best, stalk. You followed the scent, staying close to the ground, slinking around, and watching the dirt for prints from any type of animal. When the trail stopped and there were no prints in sight you were confused, where had it gone, you questioned.

Then it hit you, the trees, it had to be in the trees. You weren’t in the mood to climb right now, not wanting a chase in the trees, but you might not have a choice. You took a breath, steadying and readying yourself, slowly looking up to the trees to see what you would be chasing, and once you caught sight of what it was you gasped.

It was you, not quite, but something like you.

He had your blue skin, stripes laid across his skin and white freckles splattered across his body and face. He had your dark hair, but his was put up in braids, something you had no idea you could do. He had your large golden eyes which were widened just like yours right now.

You were perplexed. You knew you weren’t the same as your family, you knew you looked completely different, not the same species, but you hadn’t ever seen another person like you. You didn’t know there were other people like you.

The other person looked just as shocked as you, and he was. You looked Omaticaya, but he had never seen you before, and he had seen everyone in his clan as the next Olo’eyktan in training. He hoped you weren’t Omaticaya because of how rough of shape you were in. He never wanted anyone in his clan to be in this rough of shape.

You had scapes all over your body, little scars scattered where past cuts had been. Your hair was loose and messy, knotted and in need of a good brush and braid. As he studied the strange girl in front of him he was concerned for you, for the state you were in, but to you the unkempt hair and scars and nicks that cover your body are normal.

To you they feel like home.

To you the scrapes and scars, the cuts and nicks, feel like home. They feel like the forest as you run through the underbrush, barely dodging trees and roughly catching your arms against them accidentally. They feel like jumping into streams and rivers, scraping your knees on the rocks at the bottom as the current sweeps you off your feet. They feel like hunting as you accidentally catch your finger with your blade as you finish off your prey.

To him they were worrying, they showed pain and danger, but to you that was normal, pain and danger were regular parts of your life. To him it wasn’t, and he felt the need to make sure you were okay. You were standing strongly so clearly you weren’t too injured, but the idea of you being one of his people made him feel the need to check you over, to help you.

He jumped down from his hiding spot, gracefully landing in front of you, and suddenly you took off. You sprinted away, terrified of the stranger. You wanted to make your way back home, back to your mother palulukan and the den you called home. You wanted to be safe, you wanted to feel safe.

The man lagged for a second, thinking, before deciding to follow you, taking off after you. The chase went on for a while, his lungs burned as he kept up with you, close behind, but he didn’t know how much longer he could keep up, and you didn’t seem to be slowing down.

“Wait, I just want to help!” He shouted after you, but that seemed to spook you more and you sped up.

You had no idea what the strange man had said, but his loud voice scared you. The sounds he was making were foreign to you, and it frightened you. He was communicating in a way you never had before. The way you communicated with your family was hisses and growls.

You were a good runner, had good stamina, but he seemed to be keeping up, although you could tell he was getting tired. The unfortunate part was you were getting tired too, and you would have to stop soon. You figured it would be good to stop sooner than later so you had enough energy to fight in case the need arose.

You saw a clearing to the right and zagged that way before stopping on the far end of it, crouched down like a palulukan, ready to pounce. The man stopped on the other side, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. Like this he looked less scary, he looked weak as he was out of breath, like you could win this fight easily.

He looked at you through the braids that had fallen in his face, and his eyes held no malice. He wanted you to feel safe, or as safe as possible, around him, so he showed his weakness as he was out of breath. He wanted you to know he wasn’t going to hurt you as he showed you had easily outran him.

However you still felt threatened.

Your eyes were blown wide, adrenaline coursing through you as your mind ran a mile a minute. Your ears pinned against your head and you let out a wild hiss at the man, bearing your teeth and snapping them together a few times as a threat.

He didn’t challenge you back, instead dropping to the ground to sit with his legs crossed, arms in the air as a sign of surrender, or peace, that he meant no harm. He tried to make himself look harmless, tried to make himself look smaller.

Your face scrunched up in confusion, why wasn’t he challenging you, you asked yourself. You weren’t convinced he meant to harm You couldn’t let your guard down, and your hand flew to your knife at your hip as you snarled at him, trying to elicit a reaction.

He then realized he had his own weapons on him and he lifted his bow over his head from where it rested against him, and threw it to the side. He hesitated as he took his knife out of its holder, but he threw it next to his bow a few feet away.

“They're gone, okay.” He pointed to the weapons where they laid, “I want to help you. I’m not going to hurt you.” He tried to explain.

Again you didn’t understand him, ears twitching at the unfamiliar sounds. Now you were more stressed than before. You stayed in place, ears pinned to your head again as you growled, but your hand moved away from your knife.

“There we go.” He spoke as your hand fell to your side, “What's your name?” He asked.

You felt the adrenaline wearing off, exhaustion starting to catch up to you and making you less hostile than before, blurring the lines of your fear. Your eyes were narrowed as your head tilted to the side, a questioning look on your face. You were scared because you couldn’t understand him, but you became more curious the more he spoke.

His voice was interesting, smooth and calming. You hadn’t heard anything like it before, and although you looked similar you weren’t sure if you could make the same sounds as him, accustomed to growls and hisses.

When you didn’t say anything back the man tried something different. He pointed to himself, “Neteyam.” Then he pointed to you, humming, “Hm?”

You growled back, trying to communicate the only way you knew how. He just cringed, taking it as aggressive while you were simply trying to voice your confusion.

He tried again, “Neteyam…” He pointed to himself, not saying anything else afterwards.

“Neteyam.” You whispered, only loud enough for you to hear. Then you cleared your throat, “Neteyam.” You parroted.

“Yes. Neteyam.” He nodded, happy you seemed to be getting somewhere, “You?” He asked, pointing to you.

“Hm?” You hummed, copying the noise he had made to you earlier. You thought it was a questioning sound, and you hoped your assumption was correct.

Something clicked to Neteyam, “You can’t understand me, can you?” He asked, not particularly expecting an answer.

“Hm?” You questioned again.

“Okay…” He took a second to think. Who were you? Where did you come from?

“Neteyam.” You spoke again, getting his attention. You then pointed to yourself and growled, you seemed to be trying to communicate something, and you were. You had growled your name, what your palulukan family called you.

He didn’t quite understand you, “Hm?” He asked.

You just growled again, pointing to yourself. Clearly this wasn’t getting anywhere.

“I’m going to give you a name, or a nickname I guess.” He told you, but you didn’t understand. If you had known what he had said you would have disagreed adamantly, you don’t need a different name, you have one already, but you didn’t understand, so when he pointed to you and said, “(Y/n).” The name sounded beautiful, and you loved the way it rolled off his tongue.

Your head tilted to the side, confusion written on your face, but you didn’t protest. Instead you nodded your head, seeming content, “Neteyam.” You pointed to him, “(Y/n), hm?” You pointed to yourself questioningly.

He smiled, “Yes.”

“Yes.” You copied him, but you weren’t smiling, still confused by the foreign words.

He patted the ground in front of him, inviting you to sit by him, but you don’t approach, instead sitting where you were a few feet away. He seems so calm, so relaxed, as he sits with his legs crossed and arms behind his as he leans on them. You however are stiff, skittish, as you sit on your knees, hands in your lap. You looked ready to take off at any second.

Neteyam tried to calm you down with reassuring words, even though he knew you couldn’t understand him, his calm tone seemed to take off the edge. You were scared of him, but slowly starting to believe he meant no harm. He wasn’t dangerous.

As you sat there with him he went on, and on, talking about whatever came to mind with that smooth tone. You could sit there and listen to him talk forever, but soon the sky is darkening and you realize it is time to head back home, to the comfort of your den, your mother would be waiting for you when you get there. She would be ready to allow you to cuddle up next to her and let go of the stress of today.

You’re not frantic when you stand up, instead more fixed on having a mission, to get home, but Neteyam doesn’t understand that, and so he stands up after you. You don’t pay him any mind until you start walking away and he follows you. Frustrated that he’s trying to follow you, you hold your hand out towards him, hissing.

“No!” You shout, a word you had picked up from Neteyam talking to you.

“Oh.” Neteyam simply comments. You were a quick learner apparently, picking up on the word and figuring out how to use it already.

You turn away and start walking off, and this time he doesn’t follow you, waving towards you and saying, “Goodbye, (Y/n).” He pauses before saying quieter, “I hope I see you again.” Not loud enough for you to hear.

Your mother palulukan was confused that night when you came home without a meal, but when you broke down in tears she moved to comfort you. You let out all of the stress from over the past few hours in tears and sobs, and eventually you stilled, fell asleep on her large warm body, and finally you rested.

You had intended to never see Neteyam again, but you kept running into him. It was frustrating and confusing. You had no idea why it kept happening, but of course you knew Eywa had a plan for everyone, and everything happens for a reason, but you weren’t sure why she was so insistent on putting you and Neteyam together.

The day after your first encounter you had your second meeting. You had been trying to hunt when you somehow ended up back at the clearing. You weren’t sure how you ended up there, but you gave in, sitting with him for a while before continuing your hunt.

The third time, the third day in a row now, you had been napping in a completely different area of the forest when you woke up to Neteyam looking at you curiously. It wasn’t necessarily in a creepy way, but it had spooked you at first before you calmed down. This time you did not stick around, walking off with a dismissive grunt to Neteyam.

The fourth time, a few days later, he had found you while you had been frolicking around in the Hallelujah Mountains. You had been hiding out there, trying to avoid him by not even being in the forest, but he had found you again somehow.

That went on, and on, until you admitted defeat, accepted your fate, Eywa was determined to have you and Neteyam together, and who were you to deny the Great Mother’s will. She knew all, and you trusted her, so you took her lead.

Every time you ran into Neteyam you would spend a little more time with him, and eventually that time built into hours, and then days, from sunrise to sunset you would spend your hours with him. You cherished your time with Neteyam and he certainly enjoyed your company, your attention.

Your palulukan mother was less than pleased with how much time you were spending with the Na’vi boy, but she understood you needed companionship with your own kind. She figured you would grow curious eventually and would venture out in search of people like you, and she was proud of you for making a friend, but she wished you would be home a little more.

When you finally gave into spending time with Neteyam you figured you should learn how to communicate, learn to speak his language. You would much rather teach him yours, but yours was more general emotions and less words, less actual conversation and more communicating how you're feeling through growls and hisses, hunched shoulders and bared teeth.

Today you were sitting by a river, somewhere Neteyam had shown you, as he tried to teach you the Na’vi language.

Neteyam pointed to different features on his face as you named them quietly, touching them on your own face as you went, “Ears. Eyes. Nose. Mouth.”

“Good job!” He praised you, a smile on both of your faces.

You were learning slowly, struggling to pick up a second language so much different from your first, but when you grasped a certain word you had it for good. You had started using the words you knew in basic sentences like “How you?” when you would first see him. You would listen intently as if you knew everything he was saying although you only picked up on certain words.

What really got Neteyam was when you would say goodbye when you parted ways at the end of the day. Instead of saying “Goodbye.” or something similar you would blurt out “Love you!” as you walked away.

It always got Neteyam’s heart beating in his chest, hard, and he couldn’t help but smile every time. He would say, “Goodbye (Y/n). Love you too.” because the one time he hadn’t reciprocated you had pouted and nearly cried.

He didn’t think you understood the significance of those words, of the word love, but you definitely did. You didn’t use it lightly, it being the only word you had learned to describe how you were feeling for Neteyam, and it described your feelings perfectly.

You truly did love him, as a friend, maybe more.

You appreciated what he did for you, but it went so much deeper than that. You loved how he was patient with you, giving you all the time you needed. You loved his voice, how he would talk to you even if you didn’t understand. You loved how he laughed, how he smiled, how his eyes seemed to glow when he was around you.

You love him.

You loved him like you loved the forest, it’s green foliage keeping you safe throughout your life. You loved him like you loved your mother palulukan, like a warm hug at the end of the day. You loved him like you loved the sounds that played all around you constantly, drowning out your negative thoughts.

You love him like home.

As you were mulling over your feelings, thinking whatever came to your mind, you had been zoning out, gone silent as you looked off into the distance. Neteyam took this chance to mess with you a little. He scooped up some water from the stream in his hands and threw it on you, bringing you out of your thoughts as the cool water hit your face.

You gasped, “Neteyam!”

He just laughed, pointing at you as your jaw was dropped, brow muscles raised, and eyes open wide. Your look of offense amused him and your look quickly switched to a scowl, and Neteyam felt himself still, that was never a good look on you.

You moved quickly, smiling mischievously splashing water onto him too. He looked surprised, like he hadn’t expected this from you, and you used that to your advantage, splashing him again, harder this time, with more water.

This time he was quick to move, trying to grab you and throw you into the deeper part of the river, but your reflexes were faster than him and you got up, running away like a mad woman. You smiled before jumping into the river, submerging your lower body before he could do it for you.

You thought hard, trying to form a coherent sentence, when you thought you had it you shouted, “Come get me!” Taunting him.

As you taunted him he just smiled, a sense of childish joy overcoming him. It reminded him of when he was younger. When he and his siblings would play in streams closer to home. When his father would play with them. It reminded him of family, you were quickly becoming family, but in a deeper way.

He loved you like family, he loved you like a calm afternoon at home with everyone sitting around, talking and playing games. He loved you like a partner, someone to share his own home with, where his family could come over for dinner and share stories. He loved you like someone new to the family, like someone his family could learn to love.

He loves you.

“Oh yeah?” Neteyam asked, smirking at you. He stayed where we was on the river bank, feet barely in the water.

“Yeah!” You shouted, challenging him by splashing the water around you.

He seemed to be contemplating it, over exaggerating his movements dramatically, “I don’t know… I might just stay here…” He joked.

You frowned, not understanding his joking tone of voice, “Fine…” You turned away from him, getting ready to leave the river.

However you didn’t get the chance when you heard splashing behind you, and it was too late. He ran up to you splashing you, getting your entire back wet, including your hair.

You whipped around, gasping both at the cold water and the shock of not expecting it. You shouted at him, arms crossed over your chest, “Rude!”

Neteyam laughs loudly, “Oh I’m rude? You’re the one who told me to come get you.” He defended himself, rolling his eyes.

“You…” You thought of what word to use, not sure what the word for this action was, you settled on, “hit me first!”

Neteyam was quick to correct you, “Splash, the word is splash.” He really did not want you telling people he was hitting you if you ever met his clan. He hoped it was less of an if, and more of a when.

You took in the information, “You splash me first.” You shrugged your shoulders, feeling you won the conversation.

“And I’ll do it again!” Neteyam laughed, running at you, ready to throw more water in your face, but you turned to run away from his attack.

As you were running you slipped, falling to your knees and feeling pain shoot through one of them, “Ow.” You hissed out.

Neteyam was quick to rush to your side, helping you up and walking you to the edge of the river where you sat down. You inspected the cut, it wasn’t much and you would be okay in a day or so, “I am okay.” You tried to assure Neteyam.

Neteyam frowned, “I’m sorry. Let me fix you up?” He asked.

You knew if you said no he would practically beg you to let him help you, so you gave in, “Okay.”

Neteyam sat down, pulling your leg over his lap so he had better access to your knee. He inspected the small wound, thinking about what Kiri had told him would be best for it.

He was quick to pull out the little pouch of healing equipment he had, herbs and plants, pastes and drinks, he was equipped for anything. He had decided to carry anything he would need to treat your small cuts and scrapes because every time you would see him you would have more and more. They never seemed to stop coming, so he promised he would do his best to help you.

He pulled out a paste you recognized, and before he could speak you mocked him, attempting to copy his voice, “This one will sting.” You fell into a fit of giggles afterwards.

He just chuckled at you, “You’re right.” You seemed to always be right, you picked up on other things, besides learning the Na’vi language, easily.

You smiled, sighing happily, “I know.”

Neteyam hums, smiling at you , “Tell me, how have you been? What have you done today?” He tried to distract you while he put the paste on.

It worked as you quickly responded, “It has been great. I have gotten to see you…” You trailed off, smiling shyly, before continuing, “This morning I went on a hunt, took food home to my mom. My siblings are moving out finally, so it is just us now. Less mouths to feed.”

“Good… Neteyam answered simply, focusing on what he was doing as he wrapped a bandage around your knee.

“Thank you.” You pulled his face up to look at you, a small smile was on your face, lips gently curved, eyes softened to liquid gold, “For everything.”

He sighed, content, as his face melted into your hand, pressing your skin to his, “It’s really no big deal. I would do anything for you. I would get you anything you need, anything you want.” He admitted softly, quietly.

You smiled, leaning in and pressing your forehead to his, “I know, and Eywa do I love it. I love you.”

He smiles back, the happiness reaching his eyes, and if you listen close enough you can hear his heart thumping in his chest, ready to pop out, “I love you too, (Y/n). I see you, and I will show you that every day.

Every time he tends to your wounds he is so careful, he is so careful with you. He is careful in a way the forest has never been, in a way it never will be in the future. The forest gives you safety in the form of protection through the hard and marred skin you have covering your body. The forest shows you its love through injuries you’ve sustained from your years of survival, it gives you love by allowing you to survive.

Now you don’t need the love of the forest, you need the love of him. He feels like scars, and bruises, and cuts, and pain. He feels like safety. Like how you once had found safety and solace in the cuts and bruises you bared, how your unkempt hair and scars felt like your home, to you he feels like home.

Word Bank:

Great Mother (Eywa)

Palulukan (Thanator)

Syaksyuk (Prolemuris)

Yerik (Hexaped)

Nantang (Viperwolf)

Ikran (Mountain Banshee)

Omaticaya (Forest Na’vi)

Olo’eyktan (Clan leader)

Eywa (Na’vi goddess)

#fanfic #fanfiction #avatar fanfiction #avatar the way of water #atwow #atwow fanfiction #avatar movie #atwow fics #neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x fem!reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam suli x reader

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animasolaoriginal · 7 months ago

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INFATUATED ♦️ FOURTEEN

CHAPTER ONE ♦️ SERIES MASTERLIST ♦️ AO3

To say his sudden change in demeanor is confusing her, would be an understatement. Confronted with his raw strength and anger, she finds herself stuck in her own mind – until he pulls her out of it, with yet another face he's never shown her before.

ruthless nightclub owner ❌ innocent young woman with a crush

WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Age gap. Size difference. Dubcon elements. Dom/sub dynamic. Praise kink. Free use/power play. Rough oral sex/deepthroating/choking. Spanking with a belt. Manipulation/mind break? ANGST! (For more tags, check it on AO3!) // WORDS: 4.1k

A/N: It's another Angst Episode. Poor girl got it rough in this one, I apologize in advance! (Reminder that this is a fictitious D/s relationship and nowhere near what an IRL one may or should look like!)

THIRTEEN �� FOURTEEN 🟥 FIFTEEN

As she chokes on his cock with how he holds her down, her tears are hot, her mind spinning from lack of oxygen and how quickly he's changed faces again. Her stomach is tense, convulsing every time he pushes his length deeper into her throat, her mouth full of spit and bile and precum, and it's all dripping down onto his expensive pants, but he doesn't seem to care.

She feels miserable all over again, her body contorted, knees pressed into the hard space between the seats, those wretched toys still humming inside her because she didn't have the gall to turn them off completely when he'd asked her to choose. And she thought it was okay, worked in her favor, would make him proud of her. He'd been so sweet, his words, his gestures, his whole demeanor. All those praises. She was surprised, wondering what happened in that sex shop after she'd passed out.

Sucking him off in the elevator had been exciting instead of frightening, it had felt as if they'd have a bond now, she was his, and he was there for her, holding her, caressing her, comforting her. Of course he would ask her for things, and she would have happily sucked him off in the car as well, in her own pace, but he had seemed almost desperate, or angry, when he had forced her onto his cock.

She's confused. Why is he so rough again? What did she do? Did she make him angry after all? He denied it before, but maybe he's lied?

Her gurgling sounds fill the car, drown out even the engine, but at least they are proof that she is still here, still drawing breath, even if it's through her stuffed nose, in the rare moments he pulls her up by her hair only to push her back down again a few seconds later to take his cock all over again. Her throat feels raw, her lips strained and swollen, her whole body is tense, additionally fighting the sensations of the toys buzzing inside her.

The day has started in the worst way possible, had its few ups after that, but why is she even surprised about this anymore? He's treated her like this before, many times, oblivious and uncaring of her discomforts. It's her purpose after all, isn't it? To be his toy? But she still feels betrayed, disappointed, deeply disturbed.

She sniffles, another sudden gag reflex making her convulse so badly she feels her spit erupting from her nose. He still doesn't care, just keeps pushing and pulling her head, using her mouth like the hole it presumably is for him. She can't decide if she wants to sob and wail or just give in and choke already.

Somehow she loses all track of time, becomes numb eventually, lets him fuck her throat until he finally stills, his hand heavy on her head, pushing her down so much his pubic hair tickles in her nose while his balls spasm against her lips as he empties himself deep into her throat, his cum warm and sticky as the rest of it drips down and joins the mess she's already made on his pants.

He pulls her off and pushes her back into the passenger seat, where she slumps down, wiping at her mouth and nose before she succumbs to the misery burning within her, sobs, hiccups and quiet wails erupting from her hurting throat. She hears him scoffing, and when she looks over through hooded eyes and clumped lashes, he shakes his head, his face stern and hard as he wipes at his ruined pants.

“Look at the mess you made,” he says, his other hand flexed around the steering wheel.

“M'sorry,” she mutters hoarsely, forcing herself to move closer, ready to try to clean him up somehow, ignoring the sting inside her that comes either from her hurt feelings or the buzzing toys that she just can't ignore no matter how hard she tries. They always keep moving, rubbing against each other, poking deep and hard into her tense muscles, and she keeps clenching around them, already knowing she'd be sore later.

“Not good enough.” His voice cuts through her struggles, and she meets his dark gaze. Gone is the warmth she's found there earlier.

She sniffles again, wiping at her nose. Despite her misery, she feels that tiny bit of defiance flaring up inside her again. How dare he make her responsible for the mess when he'd been the one to force her to gag on his freaking cock the entire time! Where was she supposed to leave all the spit he created in her when he didn't allow her to swallow? Or breathe? She was fighting for her life while he tried to chase his pleasure. How is that fair?

A jerk goes through the car as he stops it at the side of the road. The sun is breaking through the clouds, there's a forest on one side, a wide field on the other. No other car around. She stares at him in confusion.

“Get out,” he then tells her, and she freezes, a deep shiver crashing through her.

“No,” she whispers, not as response, but in shock. He won't just leave her here, right? In the middle of nowhere? With no means to get anywhere? He can't!

His gaze darkens, his face getting harder. When he suddenly opens his door and gets out, her eyes follow his motion while she's too stunned to react properly, and when he rips her door open and grabs her arm, she can only yelp, pushing her feet down, fighting him a bit too much.

“No, please! Please, don't leave me!”

Her wail makes him freeze, a frown appearing on his stern face. “I'm not gonna leave you,” he clarifies, voice as rough as the grip on her arm as he drags her to the back of the car and bends her over it.

The warm metal burns through the thin fabric of her dress, her hands squeak on it as she tries to find purpose in her new position. Breathing hard and still crying, she can't see or hear much of what he is doing behind her, but then something hard and cold and somehow also hot and unyielding meets the back of her thigh, and she is screaming.

The pain is so intense that her vision reddens, her body jerking against the car, her head spinning out of control. It's a burning pain, a sting, her skin throbbing and tightening, and when it repeats on her other thigh, a whistle in the air, then a sharp crack, she knows it's his belt, the realization gone as soon as the pain crashes through her once more. And one more time, and one more, and she wails and sobs and cries and screams, her sounds echoing fruitlessly through the empty space around them.

He's only hitting the backs of her thighs, just below where the harness is draped around her butt cheeks, left and right, never the same spot twice. She feels her skin positively burning, and she's afraid it's all an open wound now, bleeding and oozing and never whole again. It certainly feels like it.

Eventually he lets up and lowers the belt, then moves his fingers over the abused skin. She whines breathlessly, unable to cry any more, the pain that throbbing thing all around her.

His hand hooks around her arm and pulls her back up, and she leans against him, her legs trembling too much to keep her upright. “W-why?” she croaks out.

“Why did I belt you?” he replies, his voice low and close to her ear. “Why not?”

She stiffens, slowly turns her head to him, blinking the last tears away. “What?”

“Do I have to give you my reasons for punishing you?” he snarls, clenching his jaw.

She stares at him, wondering where the man has gone who has told her he can't believe he'd deserve something as sweet as her. He seems so different now. Dark and dangerous, angry and mocking, unreasonable and mean.

“Y-yes!” she protests with the last bit of strength left in her as she clings to his arm. “I need to know what I did wrong! I want to be better!” Her voice is a feeble thing in the air, shrill and panicked, hoarse from screaming.

“What if I told you you didn't do anything wrong? What if I told you I just felt like hurting you? Hmm, what then?” he says gravelly, glaring at her. “You don't get to be better, it doesn't matter, you are a fucking toy for me to use whenever I want, understood?” He's raised his voice so quickly, she was flinching by the end of it, whining in confusion. “Understood?” he yells again, and she cries out, covering her ears while whimpering: “Yes, sir!”

Her reaction makes him pause, his eyebrows furrowing, before he rips her hands away from her head and drags her back around the car. Before he shoves her onto the seat, he hesitates, and she braces for more pain, but he just stands behind her, tall and intimidating, a deep shadow keeping the sun away from her.

And suddenly he pulls her back, closes the passenger door with a loud thud, then rips open the door behind it, before he points to the backseat. “Lie down, on your stomach, keep your thighs off the seat.”

Still more than confused and frankly hopelessly overwhelmed and aching in more ways than one, she follows the harsh words and crawls onto the seat, careful not to get her burning skin into contact with anything. She's now almost convinced he's belted her bloody, why else should she keep her wounds off the seat? And what if she makes a mess again? Will he punish her once more? Not that he needs a reason, apparently.

His reply still haunts her, that anger in his voice, the darkness in his eyes, the loathing in his words. She is at his mercy, she's always been, but he's never been this brutal with her. Or maybe he has but she never perceived it as such? Forcing his hard length into her virgin ass? Taking her in her sleep? Choking her on his cock? All of that was brutal, rough, but somehow she's never seen it. Maybe because he's given her something back, cared for her afterwards.

But belting her for no reason? Even though her insides have clenched around the toys with every hit, there has not been anything in it for her. It was only violence, pure and raw, and she doesn't understand it. She's just serviced his cock, made him come in her throat, let him do all that to her like a good toy, so why was he so angry with her?

Tears burn in her eyes again as she tries to find a comfortable position on the backseat, while she listens to him close the door and slip back behind the wheel. She rests her spinning head on her folded arms and closes her eyes, lets the hum of the engine distract her from the throbbing pain in her legs.

He drives for quite a while, and it's just this monotonous rumble beneath her. She's too wired to fall asleep, still too confused to make sense of anything. So she doesn't question it when he eventually stops the car and gets out without a word, locking it with a soft click, leaving her to stew in her dark thoughts.

Time passes, and she has no idea how much, and it doesn't matter. Her thighs are still aflame, her skin tight and stinging, and every single movement hurts. But what hurts even more is the betrayal she feels. She's done everything he's asked, and he still hurts her like this? Because he can? Is this what she signed up for by submitting to him? It doesn't make sense...

The thud of the trunk being closed rips her from her clouded mind, and she carefully turns her head a little until he slips into her line of sight when he sits back down behind the wheel and starts the engine. He drives off again, God knows where to, and still doesn't say a word, doesn't even acknowledge her.

The silence only adds to the dark void that seems to be eating her from within. A sniffle escapes her, and she stiffens at the sound, sinking back into herself, making herself as small as she can on the backseat. He doesn't react though, just keeps driving, the hum of the engine and the rumble of the tires the only sounds around her.

She is positively miserable by the time he finally stops the car again. It's all darkness, weighted darkness that pulls her down, keeps her at the bottom, in the pit of doubts and hurt and sorrow. And there he finds her, his hands tight around her waist as he pulls her backwards off the seat, not in a threatening way, but almost careful. She can't move anyway, doesn't want to, too far gone in her own mind to register anything anymore.

He scoops her up in his arms, somehow managing not to touch her hurting thighs, and carries her off. She has her eyes closed, doesn't care about where they are, what he's doing. Car doors are being closed, his footsteps crunching over gravel, something creaks on rusty hinges, the air around them becomes not as fresh, but stale and warm.

He keeps her on his arms, pressed to his chest in a comforting manner, but she can't enjoy it. Why should she? That's not her purpose. The noises around her melt together, paper crinkling, floorboards creaking, and then he's sitting down somewhere soft, and she flinches when she slips onto his lap, the tight skin of the backs of her thighs pressing against his legs, but only for a moment, before he lifts her up and arranges something beneath her.

When he puts her back down, she winces again, but this time the pain is numbed immediately by something cold, a soothing sensation on her burning skin. She dares to open her eyes, blinks at the light, breathes through her nose as she looks around. The first thing she sees is the colorful bag of frozen peas beneath her, peeking through her open thighs, and she inhales deeply, trying not to shift too much on his cushioned lap, then registers his hands on her waist and on her knees, holding her.

She can't look at him just yet, so she looks around. They are in a cabin of some sort. Lots of wood, dark interior, warm, cozy. Not that she can appreciate any of it with how hollow she feels.

His loud exhale startles her, and she hunches her shoulders, bowing her head, bracing for more unnecessary violence. But he doesn't move, just breathes through his nose in a way a cornered animal would. Slowly, carefully, she tilts her chin just enough to look at him from under her lashes.

His gaze is hard and cold and intense like she's never seen before.

“Listen,” he then says, his voice hoarse and low. “I'm only gonna say this once...” She raises her head a little more and fully looks at him, her heart beating faster. “I'm sorry,” he breathes out darkly, words that should feel more genuine, that seem to cause him great discomfort, words he probably never uttered before. Her eyebrows rise up in surprise.

“I didn't mean to hurt you,” he continues, ignoring her reaction, his eyes lowered as he stares at her thighs and his big hand spanned across them. “I... okay, maybe I wanted it, but you didn't deserve it. You did nothing wrong.”

His words make her head spin. She can barely make sense of them, so she just keeps listening because he doesn't seem to be done.

“I am not a good man,” he says, his hand starting to rub over her bare legs, the touch warm and soothing, if it weren't such a loaded situation. “Maybe I wanted you to remember that. I take what I want, and sometimes...”

A groan escapes him that makes her flinch, in turn causing her to wince as she shifts on the cold albeit uncomfortable sac of hard peas. The grip of his hands gets stronger.

“You...” he starts, his eyes moving back up to meet hers. She shivers under the intensity. “You're doing things to me. You're changing me... you make me... regret things I would never have regretted before. And, baby,” he adds, his hand moving to cup her chin, gently holding it, his thumb rubbing over her bottom lip, while she just stares at him, stunned by his unexpected confession. “I regret treating you like this. You've been such a good girl, maybe a little too good? But that's not your fault, do you hear me? I didn't expect you to be like this... so beautifully submissive...”

He licks his lips, his eyes wandering over her face. She's still only staring at him, unable to say or do anything, and she probably shouldn't either, no matter how much praise he has for her. Because deep down, she doesn't trust his words anymore. He could snap at any second now, just like that, unprompted, so she tries to minimize her movements and reactions to not give him any reason to hurt her again. He can, and he will, she knows it. He's unpredictable like that.

“You are too good for me,” he goes on, quietly, eyes still holding her hostage. “I definitely do not deserve you... but... as I said, I'm not a good man, I don't run on a moral compass. I take what I want, and I still want you. You're staying with me, even if you hate me now. You're mine, and mine alone.”

She should be glad he won't push her away, won't leave her like she initially feared. His possessiveness means she can continue to have the life he's promised her. The life without worries, without having to think for herself. He will care for her, he's said so, and she trusts he will continue doing so. But by punishing her for something that isn't her fault, how can she be sure he won't do it again? On a whim, because he can?

“I will try to be better,” he says, as if reading her mind, deep creases on his forehead, his eyes dark with emotion, something she's never seen before. “I won't hurt you again, not like that, I promise, okay?”

She stares at him, furrowing her eyebrows, feeling new tears burning beneath her lashes. He sounds genuine now, truly troubled by what he has done. And she may have believed him if he wouldn't have kept talking.

“I will still punish you if you don't listen to me, if you disobey, you know that, right? But I will not... let my anger out on you. I promise,” he repeats, tightening the grip of his fingers around her chin as he stares at her, and she stares back, flustered and confused, that black void inside her filled with uncertainty and doubts, grief and... sympathy?

She hates feeling miserable. And seeing him like this, regretful, concerned and visibly struggling to get these words out because he probably never had to reflect on his own actions like this before, she should hate this too. Any form of conflict she hates. But something warm settles in her stomach as she keeps watching him, how he looks at her, waiting for any kind of reaction from her. Desperate to be forgiven, or believed, or trusted again.

Well, maybe not desperate. She's sure he doesn't care that much. He could just continue the way it was, by using her however he wants without giving a damn about her. But maybe that isn't their dynamic after all. It's never been like that before. He used her, yes, without consent, rough and brutal, playing on her inexperience and her submissive nature, but he's always praised her during whatever ordeal he's made her do, cared for her afterwards.

There was a balance between all those sexual acts he forced upon her, there was light in the darkness, and sometimes the darkness wasn't as bad when he gave her something back. The times he made her come still echo in her mind, experiences she's never had before. And how he cuddled her after, caressed her, held her close, wiped away her tears, before he'd create new ones...

But that balance got disrupted by one single act of violence she still can't fully comprehend. He was angry because she's changing him? But isn't that a good thing? Is she taming the beast, but the beast doesn't want to be tamed? Probably. So it is her fault? But what is she supposed to do differently? He wants her to submit and she does, does what he asks of her, doesn't fuss about it, she's good, he said so. But then it's his fault for getting influenced by how good she is? Yeah, that's on him!

Caught in her own head, being none the wiser the longer she thinks about the whole situation, she keeps staring at him, breathing a bit quicker, her heart beating harder, the pain throbbing against the slowly melting bag of peas. The longer she locks eyes with him and the longer they just sit in loaded silence, the more she realizes something.

It is on her.

She is the submissive, she has to give in, it's on her to clear the tension. Of course she has no idea what that means, and if she's even right, not knowing anything about the matter anyway, but it's what feels right. She knows he won't do anything more, he's already shared his thoughts with her, which he didn't have to do, but he's tried to smooth the waters she finds herself drowning in. He did his part. Now it's on her.

Following that inborn instinct that made her submit to him in the first place, she slowly raises her hand until her shaking fingers brush against his chin, then move along his jaw before clammy little fingertips press against the tense muscle on his cheek. He flexes it beneath her touch, eyes following her every move.

Shifting on his lap (and the peas), she turns to put her other hand on his shoulder, anchoring herself, ignoring the pain of the burning welts on her skin, the toys buzzing away inside her, all the voices in her head telling her to turn the other way, to run, to get away, to stop.

But she doesn't stop, she pulls herself closer, cups his face and tilts it downwards slightly. And he lets her, the creases relaxing, and when she leans in fully to press her lips to the corner of his mouth, he closes his eyes and sighs deeply, his breath warm on her lips.

His arms close around her body, pressing her against him, as he mirrors the gesture and brushes his lips against her cheek. “I'm sorry,” he whispers barely audible, despite not wanting to repeat himself, and it makes her smile softly.

“I know, it's okay,” she replies quietly, wrapping her arms around his neck and giving him another peck, before his mouth finds hers fully for a slow but searing kiss.

Parting her lips, she lets his tongue in and meets it with the same slowly growing hunger, and as her mind empties, all those doubts and fears and confusing thoughts pushed into the back once again, she finds herself forgiving him, and she knows she shouldn't, she can hear the voices telling her not to, to hold a grudge, to not trust him, to keep fighting, but this is her life now.

He is her life now. He is all she has, and she can't afford to let this go, let him go, to lose this. She needs him, she knows that now. The strength in his arms, the warmth in his body, the affection in his kisses, the power he holds over her.

She wanted this, wanted him, and if this is part of their deal, then so be it. As unhealthy and disturbing and wrong it may be. She needs it.

THIRTEEN 🟥 FOURTEEN 🟥 FIFTEEN

End notes: The rollercoaster ride continues.

Like I mentioned in the notes above, please know that this is NOT a realistic representation of a Dom/sub relationship. If anyone, Dom or not, treats their sub/partner like this, that partner has to get the hell out of there! This is abuse and manipulation and a whole lot of other bad things! (And it's not on the sub to give in like that...)

But also remember that this is FICTION, these things happen in my mind and on whatever device you are reading this on. Nobody got harmed during the making of this chapter, I swear!

Thank you for reading! Next chapter on Sunday!

TAG LIST: @untamedheart81 @qmsvpx @cyan1decandy @bimbos-are-angels @voiceactivated @reader-1290

AO3 / / / MASTERLIST

CHAPTER / / / ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE

SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾TEN

ELEVEN◾TWELVE◾THIRTEEN◾FOURTEEN◾FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN◾SEVENTEEN◾EIGHTEEN◾NINETEEN◾TWENTY

#ao3 original work #dead dove do not eat #dom/sub #d/s dynamic #praise k!nk #free use kink #older man younger woman #size difference #modern au #joel miller smut #supernatural smut #dean winchester smut #arthur morgan smut #simon ghost riley smut #cod smut #mattheo riddle smut #original fiction

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wonuwrites · 1 year ago

Note

Random things that turn seventeen on (doesn’t have to be sexy or smutty.)

Im curious 🤓

AHHHHH I'm SO excited for this. I absolutely love writing reaction posts like this. Hope it's first of many :D going to do them in a random order bc i'm feeling chaotic as hell rn and I'm not even sorry about it.

Warning: NSFW, Smut *Minors DNI*, also some might be so fluffy that they make your teeth rot.

listening to: (will add what songs I'm listening to while writing each of the guys parts <33)

example "Vernon" will be playing "Tell Me It's A Nightmare by Kim Petras"

Lee Chan || Dino: Seeing You Wear His Clothes.

It's not that he is possessive of you, but seeing you wear his clothes fills him up with so much pride. Especially if you had taken a selfie and posted it on social media. He'd just be a beaming ray of sunshine and just want to kiss you, hold you, fuck you, and maybe shop for some more clothes that you could potentially borrow.

Wen Junhui || Jun: Reading A Book

Jun knew what it was like to be lost in a good book, so when he saw you were so invested in a book he'd find it so adorable. Especially if you had not noticed him coming in. He'd find it so attractive and adorable. He wouldn't know if he should initiate something or just grab a book he had been reading.

Kwon Soonyoung || Hoshi: Watching You Dance To A Popular Kpop Dance

Soonyoung is one of the best male kpop dancers, if you disagree, argue with a wall and get your eyes checked. anywhore- Soonyoung would find it adorable if you were both just hanging out and you just broke out a dance move that was popular. He would automatically pull you into his arms and kiss your face while giggling. Bonus points if it was one of his songs and you were not one to dance often. He'd want you so bad.

Kim Mingyu || Mingyu: You Eating Food He Cooked For You

Mingyu is so husband material and cooking seems to be a love language of his. So of course, seeing his significant other enjoying what he put together would make him feel so fuzzy and warm inside. Especially if you were enjoying the meal and complimenting him while eating. Like if you were to say, "Oh Mingyu, what could I ever do to repay you for this delicious meal?" He'd take it sexual so quick and you'd be getting dessert a lot sooner than you thought.

Choi Seung Cheol || S. Coups: Seeing Your Competitive Side

This man should be named Choi Seung-competitive-cheol. He loves winning and a good competition. So when he see's you get competitive as well a switch inside him switches. If you are on same team, he will hype you up. However, if you were on opposing sides, he would get even more turned on and competitive. He'd come up to you and would be like "whoever wins is in charge tonight." asdfghjkl; idk im sorry lmao

Yoon Jeonghan || Jeonghan: Doing Dishes

This angel would be coming home from work and would see you doing dishes or whatever and his heart would just warm up. Seeing you do something so casual and domestic would turn him on and he honestly couldn't tell you why. He'd just smile while walking up to give you a back hug. He'd press a kiss behind your ear then giggle when he noticed a brush creep up across your cheeks.

Xu Minghao || The8: Watching You Be Creative

Minghao is such a creative person, so I imagine that if you were also someone who was creative he would really be into that. You could be in your art studio painting something you've been working on forever and his heart would swell up among something else. He just found you in your element so sexy. Might even make him play a more dominant role and ask if you wanted to be creative in another way... together.

Boo Seungkwan || Seungkwan: You Side-Eyeing One Of The Members

Seungkwan is infamous for side-eyeing his members. So when one of his members does a thing and he notices you are also side-eyeing them he would feel so much pride and just want to touch you because there was finally someone who understood what it was like. However, if you were to side eye him, that would be a different story.

Lee Jihoon || Woozi: Bringing Him Food At The Studio

Look, I get this is such a basic bitch answer but hear me out okay? Jihoon would find the gesture so kind and he'd just be so thankful that he would want to return a favor for you. He'd grab the food from you and just be so soft and give you a kiss. If you were both alone in the studio, he'd just lock the door and then spend some much needed and necessary time with you.

Jeon Wonwoo || Wonwoo: You Randomly Saying Something Smart lmao

Wonwoo gets clowned often for saying prestigious or smartass things by the guys but I mean, when you are smart, you are smart. Anyways, you would be hanging out with the guys and all of a sudden you would say something out of the ordinary and smart (not calling you dumb, you just don't use big words like Wonwoo often. ESPECIALLY not in front of him or the guys.) He'd just bite his lip and look at you with such admiration. He'd show you later just how impressed he was if you catch my drift.

Hansol Vernon Chwe || Vernon: TBH Quoting Shrek

First off lmao. Second off, you both would just be hanging out and something would come up that would make you think of the quote. You saying the quote randomly would fluster Vernon and honestly make him fall for you a little more. He always found you precious but this would make him just squish your cheeks and kiss you all over your face. He just was so happy you were his, and he was yours.

Lee Seokmin || DK/Dokyeom: You Animatedly Talking About Something You're Really Into.

It isn't a secret how precious Seokmin thinks you are. Anyone could see it. He wasn't slick. It was really obvious when you would talk about something you were really into. You would get into it and it would just make his already full heart even more full of love for you. Even though he was turned on, he'd wait until you were finished to initiate anything.

Hong Jisoo || Joshua: Your Hair Blowing In The Wind

Oh boy oh boy, Shua would be so embarrassed at how bad he was turned on by something so subtle and innocent. However, it wasn't his fault that you were just so damn hot. You looked like a model the way your hair blew in the wind. It was just so majestic. He just needed to have you as soon as possible.

sorry these were rough and took awhile. hopefully they don't suck too bad <333

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shjsnjkj · 7 months ago

Text

BIRTHDAY SEX ┊ l.hs

kinktober day 15! - masterlist

☆ boyfriend!heeseung x girlfriend!reader ; Heeseung ’s 23th birthday. You decided to surprise your boyfriend with the members after their concert. He loved every single minute of it, especially the ones you two shared throughout the night. You didn’t hesitate and relaxed in the indoor jacuzzi with some champagne and strawberries covered in …

warnings: smut, MDNI, making out, fingering

genre: smut

wc: 2,1k ✧.*

taglist: @blushbunini @moonpri @blackp1nkfan @mitmit01 @pasteltheghost16 @harukayoiiiiiiizzz @mlywon @lhspeachie @seraphira @kaykay11sworld @winuvs @yuniesluv @shhth @rizzki09 @mylettterstoyou @d-dilemma @aanniikkas @hooneyz-luver @laylasbunbunny @nyfwyeonjun @minnieverse @rikinatorr

It was finally October 15th, the day you had been eagerly anticipating — your boyfriend Heeseung’s birthday. Since he was on tour, you were supposed to celebrate it from afar, relying on video calls to bridge the distance. But that just wasn’t enough. The thought of spending another night without him, eating dinner alone, and navigating your days without his presence had been gnawing at you. You missed his laughter, the way he’d hold you close, and the warmth of his voice whispering sweet nothings. So, you decided to take matters into your own hands.

Weeks ago, you’d made up your mind. If you could catch a flight the day before, you’d arrive just in time to surprise him on his birthday morning. A few clicks later, you had the ticket, the perfect plan in motion. To make it even more special, you reserved a luxurious suite at the same hotel where the band was staying — a suite with a jacuzzi that you could already envision being the perfect setting for an intimate, unforgettable night.

When the day finally arrived, everything felt surreal. Stepping off the plane and breathing in the crisp morning air of the city felt like the start of a new adventure. You checked into the hotel while Heeseung and his bandmates were busy with rehearsals, and the suite exceeded your expectations. The room was elegant, bathed in warm, ambient light with a panoramic view of the skyline. A king-sized bed stood at the center, its crisp white sheets calling out to you, but your eyes were drawn to the jacuzzi nestled by the floor-to-ceiling windows. You could already picture the evening: warm, bubbling water, his hands running down your back, the flicker of candles reflecting off the glass, and the city lights twinkling in the background.

You didn’t want to waste a moment. After settling into the room, you went out to buy a few birthday decorations, choosing a color theme that matched Heeseung’s favorites. Soft blue balloons, a banner with “Happy Birthday” in shimmering gold letters, and some streamers to add a festive touch. You even managed to find a small cake — his favorite flavor, of course — and a bottle of champagne to make the night even more special. But there was one more element to the surprise, one you couldn’t help but smile about a tray of juicy strawberries, every second one dipped in dark, decadent chocolate. You knew exactly how much he loved them, and you planned to put them to good use.

As you made your way back to the hotel, your heart fluttered with excitement. You could already imagine the look on his face when he walked in and saw you. Would he be surprised? Speechless? Would he scoop you up in his arms and kiss you like he never wanted to let go? You hoped so. It had been far too long since you last felt the warmth of his touch, and tonight you wanted to make every second count.

The suite was quiet when you returned, the room still as inviting as when you first walked in. You quickly set to work, arranging the decorations around the room. Balloons floated near the ceiling, the banner stretched across the wall, and you placed the cake and champagne on a small table by the jacuzzi. You took your time, savoring every moment of preparation, imagining how it would all unfold. When you were done, the suite was transformed into a cozy, romantic haven — the perfect place to celebrate a special night.

Now, all you had to do was wait.

Your heart skipped a beat when you got a message from Heeseung, saying they were finally wrapping up their rehearsals and would head back to the hotel soon. You took one last look around, satisfied with how everything had turned out. The lighting was dimmed, the candles were ready to be lit, and the jacuzzi was already filling up, the water warm and inviting. You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of nervousness and anticipation. Then, with a smile, you slipped into a sleek, black dress, one that hugged your curves just right and left little to the imagination. You knew Heeseung wouldn’t be able to resist.

When you heard the keycard beep and the door creak open, you quickly took your position by the jacuzzi, a small smile tugging at your lips. Heeseung stepped in, tired but happy, and when he saw you, his eyes widened in surprise. For a moment, he just stood there, taking it all in — the decorations, the candles, the champagne, and most importantly, you, standing there looking like a dream.

“Happy birthday, love,” you said softly, walking over to him. He didn’t say anything at first, just pulled you into his arms and buried his face in your hair. You could feel him smile against your neck, and you knew that all the effort, the planning, and the long flight had been worth it.

“You’re really here,” he murmured, his voice low and tender. “I thought I was dreaming.”

You laughed softly, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Heeseung’s eyes softened, and before you could say another word, his lips were on yours, kissing you deeply, passionately, as if he was afraid you might disappear if he didn’t hold on tight. You kissed him back, letting yourself get lost in the warmth of his embrace, in the way he tasted and smelled, everything about him that you’d missed so much. When he finally pulled away, he was breathless, his cheeks flushed, his eyes dark with desire.

“I have a surprise for you,” you whispered, taking his hand and leading him to the jacuzzi. The water was steaming, the scent of lavender filling the air. You reached for the champagne, pouring two glasses, and handed him one. “I thought we could celebrate in style.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “In style, huh?”

You nodded, bringing the glass to your lips and taking a slow sip, your eyes never leaving his. “Oh, I have a few ideas,” you teased, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “But first, why don’t you get comfortable?”

His smile widened, and he set down the glass, reaching for the hem of his shirt. As he started to undress, you felt a surge of excitement, your pulse quickening with every piece of clothing he shed. By the time he was down to just his boxers, you could hardly keep your hands to yourself.

“Let me help you with that,” you said, stepping closer and slipping your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down slowly, teasingly. He let out a low, appreciative hum, his hands coming up to rest on your hips. When he was finally bare, you let your eyes roam over his body, taking in every inch of him.

“Happy birthday, Heeseung,” you said again, your voice barely more than a whisper. Then, with a sly smile, you led him into the jacuzzi, the warm water enveloping both of you as you settled in together, the city lights flickering outside like a sea of stars.

Heeseung sat in front of you, radiating calmness and confidence. To be honest, the silence was actually really comfortable because he looked so dashing that you felt sure he was up for anything. You missed him, staring into his dark, lustful eyes which are focused only on you and nobody else. Nevertheless, you couldn't wait any longer. You needed him right now, and Heeseung was in the same situation. The reason he didn't make the first move was you. He couldn't keep his eyes off of you and your perfect body. He saw you more than a month ago, so he wanted a few minutes to admire you before making you his.

His eyes were filled with desire as he beckoned you closer. You didn't think twice and went closer instantly, wrapping your hands around his neck with an eager, longing look in your eyes. He touched your back with one hand, caressing it with his thumb in a loving gesture. His other hand reached for a strawberry from the side and gently placed it in your mouth. You took a slow, teasing bite of the berry, letting the sweet juice run down your neck. Heeseung smiled at you and moved closer, licking the tempting red juice from your skin. His lips were soft as silk, sending shivers down your skin as he touched you. You craved more from him. He came back to your irresistible lips and finally kissed you in a way that made your heart race. He then slipped his tongue into your mouth, igniting a fire of desire. Between all the heavy making out, you couldn't stop yourself from letting your passion flow through your voice.

You let out moans which Heeseung received with overwhelming delight. Heesung trailed his kisses down your chest, his lips brushing against your skin with tantalizing ease. He occasionally reached up to cup your breasts in his hands, his touch sending shivers of pleasure throughout your body. His tongue licking it constantly made your body tingle with need, getting wetter and wetter with every second. "Heeseung, I need you!", you whispered to him, your voice filled with desire. Without a moment's hesitation, he picked you up and placed you on the side of the bubbling jacuzzi. The sudden blast of cold air and the feel of Heeseung's touch sent a rush of goosebumps across your skin. You felt a little embarrassed, and your cheek burned a bit too – but it was a good kind of embarrassment. It wasn't the first time he'd seen you fully exposed, but you were feeling a little shy which made it all the more exciting.

He placed his hands on your thighs while peppering them with butterfly kisses. "Let me make you feel hotter, baby" he said, his voice full of want, and got between your legs. He gave you a searing kiss on your cunt. You arched your back and moaned, your eyes rolling back in your head. He licked his lips, his eyes never leaving yours, before kissing you again. His focus was fully on you. Even though it was his birthday, he wanted to give you the best to show how much he missed and loved you.

He teased you with a slow, sensual massage of your clit with his thumb, building up the heat and anticipation until he finally pushed his fingers into your hot, wet hole. At that moment, his fingertip pressed to your entrance, and you let out a little hiss of pleasure. With every pump he made, you became more and absolutely drenched in every sense of the word. Everything was spinning around you in a glorious blur, and you could hardly contain your elation as you moaned your lover's name. Somehow, you even let out a little "Please" between panting and moaning.

The heat radiating from your cheeks had already spread to your abdomen, and you felt your orgasm building up in the pit of your stomach. And just like that, Heeseung hits that perfect spot again and again until you cry out in sheer bliss and your legs shake with pleasure. In no time at all, you reached your climax and came. You relaxed your eyes, savoring the afterglow. You didn't have a sense of anything going on around you or what Heeseung was saying, but you knew one thing for sure: you needed to make him feel 10 times better to show him how much you loved him for all those sweet things he'd done for you!

Once you were able to open your eyes, you were greeted by the warm, loving gaze of Heeseung.

Your eyes fell upon the scene before you, and you were instantly frozen in place. This was one of the hottest, most sensual things Heeseung had ever done while being with you. As your head fell back in rapturous pleasure, you expected him to help you back to the water. You were ready to make him feel truly otherworldly as you collided in a breathtaking embrace. But then, as your mind caught up with what was going on, you saw Heeseung holding a strawberry, covered in your cum?! He ate the fruit with incredible enthusiasm, closing his eyes head falling back while swallowing it, looking like it was the best thing he'd ever tasted.

“Y/n, you know how much I love your taste, but this combination is absolutely out of this world! It's like the sweetest, most mouth-watering sugarcoating on a perfectly ripe strawberry! Oh my goodness, I don't need the chocolate one. But I want more from this – I can't get nearly enough of it. How about we do all these again, my love?”

Happy 23rd birthday to our Heeseungie! May all your wishes and dreams come true! We love you! *ੈ♥️⸝⸝🪐༘⋆

(This story is written by the sweetest girl @luviwon, and me.)

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago

Text

Silver Lining 6

Warnings: non/dubcon, speech impediment, bullying and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: silverfox!Bucky Barnes

Summary: You have an unpleasant encounter with an older man.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You yawn as you look into the barren depths of your cup. Bucky sits up and rolls his shoulders, a dimple in his cheek. He looks you over as you furrow your brow curiously; do you have something on your face?

“W-what?” You bat your lashes.

“Should've got ya something with caffeine,” he says.

“Oh… little l-late,” you look over as the baristas wipe the counters. It's almost closing time, “s-s-speaking of-f.”

“Mm, yeah, I suppose,” he slides over his stapled papers, “you got all my notes. When I get back, we'll figure out the final draft and get the mic going.”

“S-sounds g-good,” you stutter and swallow another yawn. When you're tired, you can barely speak straight. “I sh-should head ou-out.”

You chomp down as yet another yawn rolls up your throat and your eyes nearly roll back. You smile as best you can and stand, grabbing your bag to pack up. He gets to his feet and pulls on his jacket.

“I'll give you a ride,” he offers.

“No, n-no, it's o-okay–”

“You shouldn't walk,” he looks outside as the night contrasts the white ground, snow still piling high.

“J-just as bad d-driving,” you comment.

“I got snow tires,” he insists, “really, I'd… I'd feel bad if you walked.”

“Y-you would?” You snort.

He gives you a look. That look. The one that warns caution. You put your hands up defenselessly.

“Fine, I-I'll let y-you drive m-me,” you surrender. “B-b-but you should know, I'm n-not that h-ho-hopeless.”

“Never said you were,” he pulls a beanie over his gray hair, “not a big fan of the cold myself.”

“Yeah, i-it probably m-makes your b-bones hurt,” you slide your arms into your coat.

“You making fun of me?” He scowls.

“No-o, I just… my st-stepdad always says–”

“It's fine. It does,” he sniffs, “cracked a few ribs playing ball in college. They never heal right.”

“Ouch,” you hook your bag on your shoulder.

“You got a curfew?” He checks his watch.

“Wh-what? I-I'm thirty,” you exclaim.

He chuckles. That takes you off guard.

“I know, I'm not too old to make jokes too.”

“Y-yeah, I w-wasn't–”

“Relax, it's fine. Better go before we're snowed in,” he leads you to the door, thanking the staff as he opens the door and waits for you to go ahead of him.

Well, there might blizzard brewing outside but he seems to be thawing.

��

You get home to a quiet house. Your sister, Kira, hushes you as you come upstairs, her children already asleep. She has a clay mask on as she hogs the bathroom going through her nightly routine. You dip into your room and hide.

You didn't expect them to wait up for you. That's ridiculous, but no one even asked about the job. It must be the excitement of a full house. Your sister does everything right so of course they'd want to focus on her. Maybe tomorrow.

You get in your pajamas and settle into bed. It’s hard to still your mind and the jittery energy still swirling inside of you. You put on a lofi video and let it play as you close your eyes. You have the weekend to make the last tweaks and you’ll finally be onto the next step. You hope.

You spend Saturday penned up in your room, hunched over at your desk as you go through the notes from your meeting. As the clock ticks close to noon, your phone vibes, drawing you back to the land of the living. You rub your eye sockets and groan. You need to eat.

You check your phone; you have a message. You flick your thumb up and blink at the text. It’s Bucky. You still haven’t saved him as a contact, recognising him only by the last four digits of his number.

‘Quick pitstop. Forgot to ask last night. How can I pay you?’

You chew your thumb as you think. That’s the awkward part. Even though you’re doing work, it’s still a bit strange. It isn’t like a company where the money just pops into your account on schedule.

‘I can give details when you get back. Hate to add stress to your trip.’

You hit send and sit back, stretching your neck. Your phone buzzes again. You don’t expect a quick response.

‘Asking now. Will be heading into no reception. Wanted to pay you for scriptwork. Will pay rest after recording.’

Your stomach knots. You’re trying to be polite but you can’t deny that you could use the money. With Christmas tiptoeing closer, you should really get on gift shopping.

‘Right. I have Venmo.’

You tap the arrow and wait. He doesn’t answer right away. When he answers, it’s just the thinking emoji, followed by another text.

‘I’ll figure that out. Do I need your email or something?’

You sweep away the chat and tap into your app. You copy your payment code and paste it into the chat. You follow it with a quick message; ‘should prompt you how. If you need to wait, it’s fine.’

Thumbs up. That’s it. You accept that. To be fair, from him, it’s an improvement. It seems you’ve found a tenuous truce with him. You’ll take that if it means you’re not scooping into your savings.

You can hear your sister and mother gabbing as you leave your room. You stop at the top of the stairs and brace yourself. Things didn’t exactly leave off on the best terms.

You descend and sneak past the dining room where they sit and sort through your mother’s vast Christmas card collection. You’re careful not to draw any attention as you enter the kitchen and quietly pop a pod into the keurig and set your mug on the tray.

Your coffee brews with a grind, giving away your endeavour. You don’t look back as you hear the scuff of slippers. Kira enters and clinks her empty cup down on the counter not far from you. She couldn’t wait until you finished.

“So, how was your job? A bit late to be rushing off to work.”

“It’s f=freelance,” you say. “It’s g-g-good.”

She scoffs, “ah, well, that’s great. You can get out of mom and dad’s hair soon enough.”

“Y-yeah,” you agree, cheeks scalding with embarrassment, “w-working on i-it.”

“Oh, I’m sure. You know, Catherine called me the other day…” she mentions your previous coworker, her friend from college, “guess she got a promotion.”

You nod. She’s goading you. What does she expect you to say? Does she expect you to apologise for leaving a bad situation?

You take your cup of coffee and sidle away. She chuckles, the way she always does when you don’t feed into her drama. Her mug hits the tray heavily.

“I’ll tell her you say hi,” she preens.

You keep going without an answer. You yawn as you come upstairs and hear whispers ahead of you. You rush forward, sloshing hot coffee onto your hand as you approach your open door. Why didn’t you close it?”

As you get to the threshold, there’s a sudden clatter and you gasp. Jamie sits in your desk chair as your laptop lays face down on the floor. Casey is underneath the desk tugging on the power cord. You shriek and sloppily slam the mug onto the shelf mounted just beside the door.

“W-w-w-what are you d-d-doing?” Your emotion overwhelms your voice, “how–”

You hear footsteps rush up the stairs and Kira hisses as she marches down the hall, “shhh, my kids are sleeping.”

“No, th-they aren’t,” you hurry forward and take Jamie out of the chair. As you shoo Casey, your sister enters your room.

“Don’t hurt him,” she demands.

“Wh-what? I w-wouldnt–”

“Don’t touch my kids,” she comes forward and scoops up Casey then takes Jamie’s hand, “they’re just curious.”

You bend down to pick up your laptop. You turn it over and find lines streaked up in a spectrum. Smashed. Broken. Demolished.

“They b-broke it,” you whimper.

“Ugh, whatever,” she hauls her kids back to the door, “it’s just a computer.”

You stare at the ruins and shake your head at her back. What are you going to do?

#silver lining #bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #drabble #au #silverfox au #marvel #mcu #winter soldier #avengers #series

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ghostisun · 1 year ago

Text

Gospels

cw: smut (m x m) - minors dni; poly!ghouls (but there is only one main pairing explored); size kink; D/s (includes hints of subspace); male anatomy; mentions of squirting (stares at u guys bug-eyed); unrealistic and gratuitous sex // 994 words (read at ao3)

an: uhh first official smut work. im so nervous putting this out :< but uhh yea! hope u guys like it ^v^

There are many things Dew told them not to talk about—his apparent size kink so happened to be one of them.

Don't mind the fact that they're all into it, Dewdrop still refuses to admit that he’s got it. He refuses to admit that he mewls at being manhandled, his body locking in pleasure when he is picked up and fucked against a wall. He denies the way he slips underneath the fog when they have him on his back, his knees pressed to his shoulders, exposing all that he is to his mates who bear down all of their weight onto him.

He cums just like that—eyes rolling to the back of his skull, jaw hanging open for a soundless moan.

It is the sexiest thing ever, so of course they decided to see what else of his size kink could they exploit.

Currently, and no shock there, it were Mountain and Aether who could make him squirt, his cock leaking and his walls spasming around theirs as he whimpers and whines because they fucked him stupid. Because they hit somewhere just a little deeper, snug against the muscles of his flesh, and turned his brain into a little mush.

It makes him choke, his words gurgled.

He is so, so beautiful like this—his spun gold hair is sticking to his sweaty, flushed skin, and his lips are so kiss-swollen and spit-slicked.

“Shh,” Aether croons.

He has Dewdrop for today, and the others are left to hear and scent the peaking pleasure of their little firefly.

He pulled Dewdrop to his lap, the smaller ghoul’s back pressed flush against Aether’s chest. Dew’s naked, shivering, stuffed, and Aether is still fully clothed—a power play, one that had Dew hissing at him only to end up like this.

His legs are thrown over Aether’s, the tips of his toes don’t even touch the floor—this was actually what silenced Dew’s angry burst. He balked at the simple way that Aether reminded him of their size difference, of how greatly he outmatched Dewdrop, and he went putty. Shivering. Brain turned off as he pawed at the side of Aether’s leg because he still refuses to beg.

That’s fine, Aether didn’t need him to. After all, there were many more ways to render Dewdrop into a sobbing mess, and all it took was to strip him off his clothes and fuck his cock into Dew’s already leaking hole.

“So warm ‘round me, petal,” Aether murmurs, before leaning back into the cushions, body sagging into it in comfort. It jostles the two of them, driving Aether further into Dew.

The new breach has Dew warbling out a whimper, his breath rasping out in wheezes as pleasure razes him. He clamps down on Aeth’s dick, his body lifting as he squirms, toes curled, and his head falling into the soft pudge of Aether’s chest.

He is crying, outright sobbing at the overwhelming euphoria filling him up. Sharp nails dig into the flesh of his thighs, tearing the skin open—more bruises; more proof of how good they’d made him feel.

Aether goes cross-eyed himself, his breath turning into a gritted hiss at the tight clench of Dew’s walls.

Satanas.

Dewdrop is a marvel. He is a freakish accident because Aether knew, even when the denial was strong from Imperator, that the ritual forced onto Dew was intended to burn him into nothing. There were precedents of this ritual of course, but all the ghouls forced into it had died. They were not banished to the pits, instead, they perished. Not even their remnants remained.

(Omega had warned him that the Church held no affection nor respect for their kind. It took Dewdrop’s elemental change for it to truly sink in.)

But their starfire survived. Amidst all odds, Dewdrop had gritted through the burning of his flesh and the emptying of his element, and forged himself into something extraordinary. He is a miracle.

And Aether could not fathom how blessed he is to have Dewdrop as his mate. That this little star is his.

“Fuck, Dew,” he moans, guttural, his hands tightening around the fire ghoul’s waist. He is so overwhelmed with his emotions, pleasure and affection and lovelovelove are all blending together. He staggers at the intensity of it all, the storm raging on in his chest.

His tiny mate is squirming, calling his name and yowling with pleasure, and Aether keens. He is so in love. So addicted.

Amidst the pleasure, he maps his hands—big and callused—along Dewdrop’s body. He traces the supple flesh, quintessence seeping into his touch as Aether loses his hold on his element, before his hands fall on top of Dew’s belly.

Aether stills, tamping down on the jitters that are racking his own body. He clears his mind, forces himself to focus because here, right here, is where he and Dewdrop are the closest.

“D’you feel me here, love?” Aether asks, his voice rumbling from his chest and reverberating into Dew’s back. He hooks his chin on the fire ghoul’s shoulder, his eyes flicking down to gaze at the flushed body of his mate. Pre- beads on the slit of Dew’s flushed cock, pearly and pretty, and Aether vows to get down to his knees and lap it all up later. Much later. Because for now—

“A-Aeth…” Dew mewls, too overtaken with his ecstasy to notice.

To feel what it is that has Aether’s heart hammering. So Aeth takes pity on him.

He puts pressure on his hold, his hand slowly digging into Dew’s stomach. Dew’s breath hitches, his eyes peeling open. Clarity seems to seep back into him, holding him suspended just for a moment as Aether pushes and pushes and—

“I’m all the way here, Dew.”

Dewdrop cums, just like that, with Aether’s name spilling from his mouth.

Aether pets him throughout, whispering promises of filth and care into Dew’s ear because they’re just not done yet.

The rest have yet to join them, after all.

#dewdrop ghoul #dewdrop ghost #aether ghoul #aether ghost #aether x dewdrop #aethdew #nameless ghouls #ghost ghouls #ghost band fanfic #sun chimes #my writing

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lxveuntold · 2 years ago

Text

descent to depravity | psh, cs (m)

summary: just when you think you have convinced yourself that the sinful creature who visited you all those nights ago was merely the product of a vividly erotic dream, he returns to you — and this time, he is not alone...

pairing: seonghwa x fem reader x san

genre: fantasy, smut

word count: 8.1k

rating: mature (18+)

warnings & features: part two of these wicked delights; incubus!seonghwa; incubus!san; profanity; supernatural elements; slight religious elements; graphic sexual content; dubcon; d/s roles without proper safety or aftercare; threesome; dirty talk; oral sex (f receiving); unprotected piv sex; multiple creampies

author's note: rewritten for ateez and reuploaded from my old blog. meant to upload this on halloween but oh well. heed the warnings and enjoy y'all.

{ click here if you prefer to read on AO3 }

---

It all ended in a dream.

Because it was never real. Of course it wasn’t. It was merely a strikingly vivid dream.

It had to have been.

That’s what you have been repeating to yourself in regards to the bizarre — and erotic — encounter you’d had with the mysterious, otherworldly creature months ago. It was both easy and difficult to write the experience off as some sort of demented fantasy brought to life during the worst dry spell you’ve experienced. After all, the dream has never once revisited your sleeping mind, despite plaguing many of your waking thoughts.

So when a wave of foreboding pinpricks trickles down your spine, paranoia makes you twist away from the bathroom sink to look behind you. Nothing seems out of the ordinary in your bedroom, however. There is no visitor sitting on the bed, nothing has been disturbed.

You close your eyes and shake your head, then resume brushing your teeth. But the tingles that linger at the start of your spine are just so familiar…

After you finish rinsing your mouth, you turn off the bathroom lights and shuffle tiredly to bed. Just as you pull back the covers to slip under them, you catch sight of two circular, red lights in the window from your peripheral vision.

It’s him, those are his eyes!

When you lift your head to get a proper look, the red glow has vanished. You step around your bed and up to the window to peek through the blinds, but the only lights to be found are the one reflecting off the rotund moon and the ones from the street lamps. There is nothing and no one to be seen — least of all a creature with eerie crimson eyes in the guise of a humanoid body.

You decide it was probably just some passing tail lights from a car and remove your fingers from between the blinds.

Switching off the bedside lamp, you do your best to push away the thoughts of the demonic being from your mind as you snuggle into your pillow. Your breathing and heart rate slow as you relax, lulled by the chirping of crickets and the occasional hum of car tires rolling by outside.

Just as you are finally sinking into slumber, something suddenly brings the hairs on the nape of your neck to attention. The pinpricks from earlier ripple over the entire expanse of your skin with greater force. Before you can roll over, your muscles are stiffened to total ineffectiveness, though the sound of his haunting voice would surely have frozen you just as effectively.

“Hello again, pet…”

The dehumanizing way in which he greets you is chilling, but you cannot shiver.

This is just a dream… you repeat your sacred mantra silently because your lips are sealed tight. This isn’t real…

“Ah. You wound me, child,” the creature laments in response to your thoughts. “I did not think it too terribly narcissistic of me to expect a warmer welcome, hm?”

“She is afraid,” drawls a second male voice, every bit as melodic as the first, “but not of you. Not directly. She is afraid to admit how much she truly enjoyed your last visit... and she is wondering who I am.” He reads and voices the question in your mind before it can even fully form.

“I have brought another of my kind to accompany me tonight, my pet,” the first one explains to you. “Think of his name as ‘San.’ Do you remember my name, child?”

You flinch again at the way he thinks of an adult woman as a child compared to his innumerous years, but not before your mind recalls the answer to his question.

Seonghwa…

He hums, seemingly pleased.

“You were right about this one being a desperate little thing,” the one named San muses. “The vibrations of her lust are remarkably strong for a human. I am curious to know if she is truly as sweet and supple as you claimed, Seonghwa.” The tone he accentuates on the name sounds like a tease, if you are not mistaken.

“You will still address me respectfully, novice,” Seonghwa bites back. “Especially if you wish to discover her sweetness for yourself.”

San does not seem to have any comeback for that and remains silent.

“I can sense that others of her kind have done the same in the time since I left her,” Seonghwa goes on. “There is a lingering stench on her skin that is not hers. Faint, but there, particularly between those supple legs.”

You feel your face heat up at the memories of your recent, meaningless hookups. You had been relieved to have finally quenched that previous dry spell with tangible encounters with real people, but the powerful creature’s tone fills you with a surprising sense of shame.

You try to gather your thoughts to form some sort of defensive explanation, but Seonghwa cuts you off.

“I am not upset with you for attempting to fill your baser needs, child,” he tells you almost soothingly. His voice is so sweet, so beautiful. “In truth, I am partly to blame for that. I told you our time spent together would take its toll, did I not? Our encounter has fueled the carnal desires I meant to sate, and now it is nearly impossible to sate them, isn’t it? You crave more and more. That is why I have returned and brought along another. Though San is younger and less experienced than myself, he is quite… voracious. And a quick learner. Between the two of us, you will never need to seek a lesser form of pleasure ever again.”

“Shall we begin, little one?” San asks without missing a beat.

A weight presses against your shoulder through your blankets, and you assume it is a hand. San’s hand, from the proximity of his voice. All of your movements and sounds are still constricted by the foreign yet familiar force held over you, however, and you are still rendered blind.

“She will not deny us, hyung,” the newcomer tells Seonghwa knowingly. “I know you can hear the blood thrumming in her genitalia. Her body is screaming for us to ravish it; there is no need to keep it bound. Release her. I want to hear her proclaim her wanton desires with her own tongue.”

Surprisingly, Seonghwa obliges the request, and a baited breath rushes past your lips the instant they loosen. You blink your eyelids slowly to allow your pupils to adjust to the scant light in your bedroom.

When you shift and look up, you recognize Seonghwa’s towering form standing in the shadows several feet from the foot of your bed. His black hair is swept back from his forehead, giving you a clear view of the eerie ruby eyes set in his ivory face, calmly observing you.

Next, you turn your head to the side to seek out your other ‘visitor.’ Your gaze first falls on the claw of a hand still resting on your covered shoulder. The fingers are slender and knobby at the knuckles; the nails are black and pointed. You feel heat swirl in your lower belly when you suddenly recall the way your inner juices had shone on Seonghwa’s fingers during your last tryst.

A hum of amusement draws your gaze upward to properly see the demonic figure looming over you, and you gasp softly at the sight of him. The fringe of his blond hair dangles into his crimson eyes; the orbs are a lighter, brighter shade than his elder’s. High cheekbones jut sharply out of alabaster skin. A tendon in his creamy neck flexes under your scrutiny. The thought that this could be Satan himself briefly flits through your hazy mind.

It is impossible to discern which of the two creatures is more beautiful.

San chuckles to himself whilst reading your mind, and the abyssal timbre of the sound — almost like music — makes you shudder.

“My companion is quite proficient at hearing unspoken thoughts, but he wishes to hear you speak your desires, pet,” Seonghwa says to you. “So, go on and tell us how desperate you are for us to use your body for our pleasure as we give you yours.”

“We cannot guarantee we will be gentle,” San inputs as a warning, “but all parties shall be sufficiently satisfied in the end.”

You look back and forth between the two hellish beings — taking a quick second to be thankful for having control of your body, unlike before — as you contemplate the situation. If these were normal men, there is no chance you would agree to this, no matter how good-looking they were…

Would you?

The mere presence of these beings makes you question your reality and your morals.

“Why does your mind dispute your body’s wants, little one?” San wonders aloud. He sounds genuinely curious. “Would you truly rather return to a slumber filled with fleeting, unfulfilling fantasies than have us drive you to the brink of madness one orgasm at a time?”

How easily your morals crumble from one salacious promise.

“Please...” you finally croak weakly.

San’s fingers tighten in the sheets. You wouldn’t be surprised if he has punctured tiny holes in the linen. “Please what?” he presses.

You lick your lips and utter, “Fuck me,” in a voice you can barely recognize as your own.

San finds something funny with your words and laughs darkly. “So crass,” he tsks, but sweeps the sheets from your body nevertheless.

In two swift, easy motions, he slashes your sleepwear to shreds, rendering you nude. The action startles you, and you automatically curl in on yourself out of sudden shyness.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Seonghwa tuts in disapproval. “Do not make me restrain you again, child. Be a good pet and let your master look upon what is his.”

He steps closer and coaxes your legs apart, not with unseen force, but with a manual graze of his large hands along the flesh of your thighs. His touch is light and frigid, and you shiver as you let your legs fall open. Once your center is visible to him, he traces the pad of his thumb along the outer circumference of your folds. There is a sort of reverence in his gentle touch.

From beside you, you notice San craning his neck to glimpse the view his elder is enjoying.

“San,” Seonghwa calls softly.

San obeys the unspoken command, moving to sidle beside Seonghwa in a motion so seamless he almost seems to glide across the floor. Your nerves tingle when both of their red gazes are fixed so intently on your naked pussy.

“You may proceed in discovering how sweet and supple our little pet is,” Seonghwa grants him, as though your body were his personal property to give away as he pleases. And of course he hears your silent (and justified) protest, because the next thing he says is: “Your body is my property, child. When I am here, I am the master, and you are the pet. My cohort and I will give you more pleasure than could ever be found behind Heaven’s gate, but on our terms. You must comply to our every whim because you are not in charge here, not even of your own body. Am I in any way unclear?”

His voice booms deeper on the last sentence. You meekly shake your head no.

Seonghwa hums and pats your thigh approvingly. “There’s a good pet. You may proceed, San.”

A wide, wolfish grin appears in the darkness below San’s glowing eyes. “Gladly.”

With that, he becomes a blur of motion from how fast he kneels to dive between your legs. His wide shoulders knock against your knees, and his fingers roam up your thighs to replace Seonghwa’s with a strong grasp. He drags you downward until your ass is even with the edge of the bed. When his nose nudges the folds of your cunt, he takes a moment to breathe the scent of you deeply, and your face burns hotter than you thought possible.

“Intoxicating, no?” Seonghwa asks as he moves out of the younger’s way.

“Indeed,” San agrees. His lips are cold but his breath is steaming hot as he ghosts over your sensitive skin.

Not another second is wasted before he pokes his tongue out to take that first anticipated taste of you. The muscle feels scaly and clammy, precisely the way you recall Seonghwa’s tongue. It is not entirely unpleasant, however — especially when it drags upward from the bottom of your slit to fit itself snugly between your petaled lips and inside your hole. The walls of your pussy instantly clench tighter at the sensation of being filled by the inhumanly long muscle.

“How is she?” Seonghwa — who has wandered up the side of the bed to stand at your side — asks. He busies an idle hand with one of your breasts, rolling and pinching the nipple almost absentmindedly. You automatically arch into his touch, and he smirks down at you crookedly.

San has to withdraw his tongue from your insides to murmur his response, “Even sweeter than you led me to believe, hyung. This one is quite a treat indeed. A sweet little flower.”

You can’t help but feel flattered by the compliment coming from the ethereally beautiful creature tonguing you in the most intimate of places.

Seonghwa grunts in satisfaction — and perhaps also a sense of validation — at his companion’s apparent enjoyment. The accompanied pinch he gives your peaked nipple sends a twinge of pain and pleasure straight to your core, and you are sure San is aware of the increased wetness pooling into his mouth. He starts licking wide stripes along your opening; back and forth, up and down. His actions are not done with much finesse, and the slurping sounds he is creating are more than a little lewd, but he does seem to be enjoying you, and having someone eat you with such gusto is a turn on of its own.

“Is he making you feel good, my pet?” Seonghwa asks, switching his ministrations to your other breast.

You nod and moan a breathy, “Uh huh.”

San seems to gain encouragement by your answer and begins mouthing at your pussy faster. His lips sweep against yours while his tongue digs deep. His actions are undeniably pleasurable, but you soon realize it isn’t enough when your clit is being neglected.

Seonghwa senses your mild frustration and speaks up on your behalf. “San, you selfish glutton, be sure to administer to her clitoris as well.”

“Her what?”

“Do you not remember? It is the small nub at the top of the human female genitalia that gives them great pleasure.”

San pulls back to study your pussy again. He quickly finds what he is looking for and brushes his thumb against it experimentally. You gasp and writhe your hips appreciatively.

“My apologies, little flower. Is that better?” he asks you in a tone both impish and honeyed.

You nod again and squeak out a tiny: “Yes.”

He directs his next words to Seonghwa. “Are you always this attentive to your pets’ desires during your time with them, hyung?”

“Of course. This one climaxed thrice when I last visited upon her,” Seonghwa says matter-of-factly.

“Hm. Well, we can easily reach that number with the both of us here,” San says. The circular motion of his thumb does not falter while he holds the conversation. “In fact, I am certain we will. My favorite part is watching them come undone and cry out for me as though I am their savior, after all.”

“It seems you still have quite some work to do on our little pet, then,” Seonghwa spits.

San grunts at the criticism, but rather than biting back, he returns his full attention to the task of undoing you. He bends to plant a rather kittenish kiss on the hood of your newly-found clit, then latches on to suckle at it. The graze of a sharp tooth elicits a gasp from you, and a succinct shiver courses throughout your body from the danger of having his fangs in such close quarters with a sensitive place.

“Mm, do not fear, little one. I wish to unravel you, not harm you,” San purrs. “Now let me hear those lyrical sounds spill freely from your lips.”

A whine issues in your throat at his words, but it is quiet and pinched. Hardly ‘lyrical’ at all.

“If you want her to sing for you, you have to make her,” Seonghwa says, unimpressed. He removes his hand from your chest to shove the younger demon’s face tighter against your center. His fingers twist in the blond hair. You can tell the action is far from tender.

As though a whip has been cracked, San groans and redoubles his efforts to gain the noises he so craves by adding a slender finger knuckle-deep into your dripping cunt. He curls it in slow but unmistakable ‘come hither’ gestures. The scratching of his jagged fingernail along your most delicate skin should by all means be painful, but it isn’t. Not in the least.

And you are by no means complaining.

“How did you ever fit inside of her, hyung?” San asks. “She is so tight around just my finger.”

“You will learn more of her tightness yet,” promises Seonghwa.

It does not take long for a trail of fire to ignite your nerves, sending your limbs twitching with pent-up energy and rising pleasure. The embers in your blood bring forth a thin layer of sweat onto your skin. Your breath comes and goes in shallow puffs as if your lungs have suddenly lost all holding capacity. Every hot, wet lashing the unholy creature’s tongue gifts you is a step you take closer to the brink, and the brink will soon be within tumbling distance.

Seonghwa, however, seems displeased by the rate at which San is building your climax.

“Do you consider this to be ‘unraveling’ her?” he hisses, fisting his fingers even tighter against his companion’s scalp.

San whines at the physical assertion bestowed upon him, and the vibrations of his sound travel through your center, all the way to the polar ends of your toes and fingertips.

“She is so easy, yet you are having to work so hard,” Seonghwa taunts. “Do better if you wish to achieve your own release tonight.”

The blond growls in determination. His response to his elder’s words is to bring the total number of fingers in your cunt straight to three. He does not push the additional two fingers in one at a time, but rather in a single forceful thrust of his hand. A shriek escapes you at the sudden stretch to your walls, soon followed by a long, low moan at a particularly powerful swipe over your pleasure point. Both demons hum, deep and satisfied.

“She sounds as heavenly as she tastes, does she not?” Seonghwa says, seeming much more proud now.

“A perfect choice of word, hyung,” San agrees with his tongue still around your clit.

“Keep going, just as you are,” Seonghwa urges, though it seems San has no intention of doing anything to the contrary. You can’t take your eyes off the crown of his head between your legs as he licks and sucks and flicks and strokes you into a frenzy. Your fists repeatedly clench and unclench in the sheets around you as every thought in your mind concentrates on that looming ledge.

“It’s ecstasy, isn’t it?” Seonghwa whispers to you now, and you whine something incoherent in response. He cards the fingers of his other hand through your hair as well, then fists them right at the scalp with a firm tug, just as with San’s. Except instead of pushing, he pulls your head further backward on your pillow to tilt your gaze up to his. His eyes are daggers under a coat of blood. “Isn’t it?” he repeats. His voice is not particularly loud, but the power of the question reverberates against the walls all the same.

“Y-yes, it f-f-feels so good,” you whisper, not daring to break eye contact.

“Mm, yes, I know it does. San is working diligently to prepare you for me, isn’t he?”

As though to verify Seonghwa’s claim, San thrashes his face back and forth in the juncture of your thighs with animal-like fervor. Seonghwa’s arm shakes along with the motion from where he still has a grip on the demon’s scalp.

“Such a good pet. A pretty little lamb, so willingly being devoured by the ravenous wolf,” Seonghwa coos at you, syrupy-sweet. “Let yourself come undone for him, pet. Give San what he so desperately craves. Come in his mouth.”

The casual yet inherently filthy way he uses the terms ‘come’ and ‘in’ is all it takes to fling you off the ledge and into your climax with eyes shut tight and a loud cry. Every muscle in your body pulls taut as a bowstring, and San opens his mouth wider just in time to catch the gush of wetness that bursts forth. The steady rumble of his groan — along with some softer strokes to your g-spot — helps your high taper off into a shaky yet satisfying finish.

“Oh my god,” you whisper under your breath when San finally removes his fingers and lifts his face away from your quivering, sensitive core. He looks downright devilish as he tongues his inner cheek with a smug smirk and hooded eyes. He seems proud of the mess covering his chiseled chin and cheeks, and he is looking at you as though he could devour the rest of you whole.

“God? He would never give you this much pleasure, little one,” San purrs.

Seonghwa chuckles and scratches the top of San’s head, equally proud of him. You vaguely register the tickling of his fingernails on your own scalp before he pulls his hand away from you to grab San’s — the one dirtied with your juices. The raven-haired demon takes the blond’s slick fingers, brings them up to his lips, and slips them inside with slow purpose. San does not resist the intimate act. On the contrary, you can just barely see the way his wrist moves with the way he presses his fingers back and forth against Seonghwa’s reptilian tongue.

Your mouth falls open at the display of pure eroticism, but you cannot find enough humility within you to close it again — especially when San pulls his fingers back with a wet slurp and pops his thumb into Seonghwa’s mouth next, unprompted. The two hellions lock eyes until Seonghwa has apparently sucked all the remaining residue from San’s last digit.

Only when Seonghwa finally looks back to you do you snap your jaw shut. He sneers at you and drawls, “Just as I remember: sweet as nectar.”

“She has had her pleasure. I want to take mine now, hyung,” San declares. You watch him reach down to palm at his genitals, and your eyes widen at the sight of his erection standing proudly out in the open. “I need to feel her wrapped around me.”

“You will...” Seonghwa sighs. He curls a hand around the back of San’s neck in a seemingly tender gesture, then uses his other hand to shove San away with impressive force. “...but not until after I have taken my fill of her, you selfish, impatient glutton.”

San rolls his neck and peels his back off the wall, staring coldly at Seonghwa. He does not argue, however. He just wipes the rest of your wetness from his face with the back of a hand and stalks over to wait at your side.

Meanwhile, Seonghwa takes up San’s previous position at the foot of the bed, and you shift upward on the mattress to prepare for his next move. He kneels onto the bed to follow your movement, then presses a hand onto your stomach to stop you when he judges you’ve gone far enough. His touch feels solid, but the mattress does not creak under his added weight the way you know it is prone to do.

“Not another inch, pet,” he murmurs. “Stay right there, just like that.”

He pries your legs apart again, and the tip of his sizeable cock prods against your inner thigh as he situates himself. The burn of his rigid flesh feels like a brand on your skin. You hiss when he lines himself up with your pussy.

“This may be easier than last time, but still painful, despite how drenched you are,” Seonghwa warns.

You nod in understanding. When he lifts one of your legs to wrap it around his slim waist, you take in a breath and hold it.

“Exhale, child,” Seonghwa guides you as he begins to ease himself inside.

You try to let go of your breath, but the reflex to hold it to cope with the stretch of his burning shaft is too much, and you end up gasping instead.

“Relax, little lamb,” San murmurs from your side, adopting Seonghwa’s new pet name for you. He returns his hand to your shoulder and squeezes. “Hold on to Seonghwa-hyung and breathe.”

You lift your hands up at once to find purchase along Seonghwa’s wide shoulders. His skin is buttery smooth, but the muscles beneath are rock hard. You were unable to touch him like this — or at all, actually — the last time, and you find your fingers roaming greedily. It is a good distraction from the pain coming from below.

If Seonghwa is bothered by your wandering hands, he does not show or comment on it. He simply continues feeding his cock into you, inch by inch, until eventually he can go no further.

“How does she feel?” San demands to know before anyone can do or say anything else.

“Like silken bliss,” Seonghwa answers, to which you tuck your head down shyly. One of his fingers hooks under your chin to lift your face back toward him so you can see his wicked grin. “Such a shy little thing. And yet here you lie beneath me, penetrated by me, desperately wishing me to pound you into this flimsy piece of furniture.”

“Yes, yes, I can hear her wishing that very much, hyung,” San says excitedly. “Are you going to oblige her?”

Rather than verbalizing a response, Seonghwa sways his hips backwards to withdraw a portion of his girth from you, then surges forward again. You barely have time to register the sensation of the jostling motion before he repeats it with a distinctly sharper snap. The wet slapping sound of the movement is every bit as erotic as the friction being created. His length easily reaches places inside you that other lovers can only aspire to. Every ridge of his bare shaft pulses tightly against your walls, making you mewl and squirm in no time.

“Don’t tear up our pretty pet before I have had the pleasure of her,” San adds. It sounds like a warning, a tease, and a whine all at once.

“I have not even started on her yet,” grunts Seonghwa. He peels your fingers off of him, and as he moves to pin your wrists above your head in a tight grip, the weight of his solid torso settles squarely upon yours. His skin is cool to the touch at first, but soon warms as it absorbs your heat. The movement of his hips has altered from jarring snaps to a deep, continuous roll. It feels as though his cock is quite literally stirring a second orgasm within you.

All the while, the unnatural creature keeps his deep ruby eyes on yours. It seems he wants to witness the exact moment your orgasm boils over, and you are certain it will not take long. The close proximity of his beautiful, marble sculpture of a face alone is enough to set fire to both your cheeks and your loins, as well as tug the knot in your lower belly tighter.

“She enjoys this angle, hyung,” San comments. His palm manages to slide its way flat against one of your cheeks, and his cooled touch is most welcome on your sweaty, burning skin. “But I can barely touch her when you are draped over her like this.”

Seonghwa smirks and says, “We can remedy that, if you are truly so impatient to join in.”

“Please. At least allow me to touch her as much as possible while you are tearing her apart.”

“Very well, but I will not cease taking my own pleasure for a moment.”

That is the only warning you receive before Seonghwa hoists you up with him. He stands at the foot of the bed again with his cock still sheathed securely inside of you. Your arms and legs reflexively wrap around his muscular body to keep yourself from falling, but his strong hands — and whatever otherworldly force he wields, perhaps — are more than enough to keep you upright. He uses those hands and that force to set you to moving along his turgid cock.

The shift in position does nothing to lessen the depth at which his cock reaches; if anything, it feels as though he is hitting even further inside of your soaked, narrow tunnel.

After only a few bounces, you feel San’s hands press firmly against your back and push you even closer into Seonghwa. His shove also forces Seonghwa to step backwards until it is his back that meets the wall this time, along with your crossed feet on the small of it. Immediately after Seonghwa connects with the wall, San connects with you, effectively sandwiching you in the middle of this most unholy union.

Seonghwa does not stop moving you up and down his cock. He keeps the pace he has set against your g-spot evenly. A wanton moan breaks through your throat at the sensation of all the sinewy skin and rippling muscles covering you front and back. San’s erection twitches against your lower back, giving away his own excitement at the situation.

“Mm, she likes this position even more, hyung,” he purrs against the nape of your neck. His hands circle around to trap your breasts in a tight grope. He pushes them close together, pulls them apart, tweaks your pert nipples; every fondle takes away just a bit more of what little breath you have.

Eventually, San’s fondling fingers slide their way down from your breasts, across your stomach, along your hips, and finally around to your backside where they help hold what flesh of your ass Seonghwa’s hands are not already covering.

“I know, I can hear her, too,” says Seonghwa. “Her other lovers are not able to ‘fuck’ her in this fashion, so it arouses her even more. I can feel her getting even tighter around me with every stroke.”

“Even tighter, hm?” San gently nips his razor teeth into your shoulder, and you can feel his lips curl against your skin. “That is because you like being stuffed full, don’t you, little lamb? Seonghwa-hyung’s cock is filling you up so well, isn’t it?”

It is all you can do to bob your head in agreement, since it seems your voice can only be used for moaning while you are pistoning up and down Seonghwa’s cock through no effort of your own.

“Your sweet genitalia is not the only orifice that can be stuffed full,” San goes on. “I have always wondered just how tight the hole on the other side is…”

For a brief second, you fear he will attempt to shove his well-endowed member up your ass with no further warning, but his hips do not move. Instead, he takes you by the chin and turns your head until you are facing him as much as your neck will permit with the angle, then taps against your lips with one of his fingers. You grant him entrance, and he lies his finger flat against your tongue.

“Lubricate it well,” he instructs into your ear, then licks the shell of it as though to demonstrate exactly what he wants you to do.

You dutifully flick your tongue around his finger, sucking on it until all you can taste on it is your own saliva. Only then does San retract his hand to drop it down below and probe between your jiggling backside where you cannot see.

In the midst of his thrusts, Seonghwa adjusts himself to stand straighter against the wall, then uses the full grip he has on your ass to spread the cheeks further apart and allow his companion better access. You hiss in a sharp breath when San hits pay dirt directly on the ring of your smaller hole.

“Breathe, little lamb. Just as before,” he whispers next, lush lips still caressing your ear.

You slowly let go of your breath, and San begins to push his finger past your rim. The continued up and down movement of his target does not deter or hinder him from plugging your anus. He wags his spit-slick finger back and forth inside your clenched ring of muscle as he goes. The stretch of it stings, but it is not as uncomfortable as the initial pressure of Seonghwa’s cock had been a moment ago.

In fact, you have never felt more lust-frenzied, mind-hazing pleasure all at once than you do right now, with a pair of strong hands cupping your ass, your thighs wrapped around a sturdy waist, a thick cock plunging through the walls of your cunt, a silky pair of lips trailing down your neck, another cock poking into your back, and the feeling of damnation in your puckered hole. Every nerve ending you possess has been ignited to an unquenchable pyre.

“The flower between your legs is tight, pretty pet,” San breathes, “but this sphincter of yours is at least doubly so. And hotter, too. It is a shame it is not also self-lubricating.”

An ambiguous-sounding groan rumbles through you, but every fiber of your being is in agreement with his words and actions, and San knows it.

Seonghwa knows it, too. Your eyes fixate on his beautiful lips as he drawls, “Yes, you like being penetrated front and back, don’t you, pet? Speared by my cock and skewered by San’s finger simultaneously?”

At Seonghwa’s words, San drags his finger down to tease shallow circles around your opening, then wiggles all the way back in to his knuckle. “She is loving it, hyung. Just listen to her trying to form a coherent thought right now; she cannot.”

Seonghwa hums in agreement. “Yes, she is so close to unraveling again. Just a few more thrusts against this sweet spot inside of her… and a little stimulation on the nub between her soft legs…”

San brings his other hand around to take care of the latter, tickling the swollen point between your legs the way he learned earlier as best he can while you continue to jostle up and down against Seonghwa’s hip bones.

“Are you going to release soon as well, hyung?” San asks. “Are you going to fill her?”

“Mm, yes. I suspect I can time it perfectly with our pet’s release,” bets Seonghwa. “It will not be long. She has just gotten even tighter again at the thought of being filled with my seed.”

He has barely finished calling you out before your orgasm hits, and it hits you like a freight train. Your toes curl and every muscle in your body clenches as a shockwave of pleasure detonates in your core. Your holes clamp down on the cock and the finger inside of them as you let out a shriek, sinking your fingernails into Seonghwa’s broad shoulders as he brings your body to a halt at his hilt. He lets out a booming moan of his own as his cock swells even more and erupts. A copious amount of hot liquid squirts against your cervix and lines your walls. Some of it leaks down around the plug of Seonghwa’s still turgid dick from the pull of gravity.

You let out a pinched moan as your climax spikes to its peak, then fall limp as a rag doll against Seonghwa’s frame with your forehead against one of his shoulders. San does not remove his fingers from your clit until your legs begin shuddering violently from the overstimulation.

“That’s it, my pet,” Seonghwa praises at the same moment San coos, “Such a good little lamb.” Both demons caress you as you pant heavily. Seonghwa’s hands massage your butt where he is still holding you up. You had almost forgotten San’s finger was embedded in your anus until he withdraws it and rubs your shivering spine.

You lift your head off Seonghwa’s shoulder, suddenly curious to see if he is any worse for wear than you are. He has some markings of being fucked-out: some strands of his hair have fallen out of place, and his hairline is slightly sweaty, as is his neckline and the cleavage between his pectorals. But he does not appear the slightest bit breathless, even after all his exertions in giving you the ecstasy you just experienced.

While you are still coping with the sheer amount of beauty before you, you are suddenly torn off and away from Seonghwa and tossed back onto your mattress by San. He retakes his earlier position kneeling at the foot of the bed. Without physically touching you, he drags your body down the mattress until your used pussy is inches from his face, then spreads your legs wide with firm hands. You clumsily prop yourself up on your elbows, scrambling to see his next move.

“You made quite a mess of our pretty little flower, hyung,” mutters San, cocking his head as he studies your sullied and swollen cunt. He sounds far from upset over this observation, however. In fact, you might even say he looks awed by your condition.

Seonghwa steps to the side of the bed and watches on as his companion appreciates his handiwork. Wordlessly, he dips a hand in front of San’s face and drags two slender fingers along your slit, and you shiver from sensitivity.

“So I have,” Seonghwa muses, unapologetic. He lifts his fingers to examine the tips of them shimmering with a pearly mixture of your cum and his in the moonlight. When he rubs his thumb against them as though to test the consistency, you are certain you have never felt more aroused in your life.

Thankfully, you do not have to voice your most vulgar, hedonistic desire in the moment, because Seonghwa hears you loud and clear. With a lopsided grin over your shameless thoughts, he brings his sticky fingers to your already parted lips and settles them directly on your tongue.

“So foul,” San breathes, sounding more reverent than appalled as he watches you suck Seonghwa’s fingers clean of your own free will. “Our sweet lamb will be wholly corrupted yet.”

Seonghwa draws his fingers from your tongue and slowly, so slowly runs them over your lips. You try to chase and recapture them, but he grabs your chin roughly. You flick your eyes to meet his, and his bloody stare sears you, body and soul.

“Take her,” he commands in booming bass.

The younger hellion is over you at once, pinning you to the mattress and feeding his steely length into your sloppy cunt in one smooth thrust. He grunts as he makes his entrance and bottoms out within the same second.

The cum inside you has barely had a chance to cool before it begins frothing from the incessant withdrawing and plunging of the new cock assaulting you. The excess leaks down your ass crack, but any discomfort you may feel from the unpleasant stickiness is overridden by the sparks rekindling in your blood.

From the pulses coming off the veiny shaft inside you, you get the impression that San’s blood may also be boiling. The notion that his riled-up state could be caused by you and not just a primal, carnal instinct makes your core throb tighter, however far-fetched it may be.

“He enjoys you,” Seonghwa confirms for you, tracing his thumb along your jawline. “He enjoys your scent, your taste. Right now he is swearing that your cunt is the tightest he has ever felt in his long life.”

San groans in agreement. His pace momentarily stutters as he redistributes his weight over you, and you marvel for a quick second at a bulging vein in his neck when he leans closer. “How is she still this tight after taking you, hyung? The pressure is divine. It makes me all the more eager to penetrate and get a proper feel of the vise that is her other hole, but I realize now that it would be excruciating for you, little one. Your wet little cunt will have to do for now.”

You give a silent prayer of thanks for the surprising consideration for the sanctity of your asshole. San chuckles lowly when he hears it but provides no further comment.

One by one, he takes both of your hands in one of his to lift your arms up from your sides and pin them over your head exactly as Seonghwa had done earlier. Without being prompted to, Seonghwa takes that hold on your wrists out of San’s grasp and into his own, leaving San’s hands free again to prop himself up and hover above you. The fringe of his blond hair bounces to and fro with every thrust of his hips. His eyes are cast down at your heaving breasts. His perfectly pink lips glisten with a clear coating of spit applied by a swipe of his lolling tongue. A muscle near his jawline briefly pops as he concentrates on achieving the release he has patiently awaited.

You long to stare at the heavenly yet sinful feast before your eyes forever, but your eyes are gradually rolling back into your head from the onslaught of his flared cockhead against your cervix.

Suddenly, San stops his hips altogether and pulls away to straighten his back. You roll your eyes back around in time to watch your feet hike themselves up into the air and onto his shoulders by his mystical power before he leans in closely again, essentially bending you in half as his torso presses into the backs of your legs. Your muscles burn with the unaccustomed stretch, but the languid roll of his pelvis against yours is all that is important. He grinds against your clit and your g-spot simultaneously, much to your mutual pleasure.

You arch your back at an especially deep press, but Seonghwa’s grip on your wrists keeps you from going too far. You turn your head to look at him and find him looking right back at you. He cocks his head and smirks when he listens to you wonder if he is enjoying simply watching the ‘show’ without participating.

“I do enjoy watching you, pet, but fret not; I will participate again in some capacity before the night is over,” he promises.

San pays no mind to your short conversation; he continues rutting into you, but his speed is not as frenzied as his pace from just a moment ago. The angle allows him to hit your inner pleasure point with ease, however, and he is keen on hitting it with each and every plunge.

You would say it is hard to tell which of you is closer to the edge… until all of a sudden, San lets out a bellow of a moan a mere second before his cock throbs even harder and discharges a long stream of cum, then another, and another, until the heat of it can be felt down to your bones.

He continues to grunt in deep baritone as the last of his impressive release dribbles out of him and into your clenching pussy. He gives a few last shallow thrusts, and as soon as his cock withdraws, his cum — along with whatever is left of Seonghwa’s cum combined with yours — trails out of you and onto the sheets.

The blond sighs in satisfaction and slides his fingers through his hair as he pulls away. Your feet fall from his shoulders and your legs slump to the sides. San closes his eyes and bites his lip as he recollects himself; he does not seem nearly as coolly composed as Seonghwa was after his climax moments ago.

By now, you are feeling much too exhausted to care that the two creatures did not bring you to the predicted three orgasms. Your body is a little numb, your vision is slightly blurred, and it feels like there is barbed wire in your head.

“Mm, you are a revelation, little lamb,” San murmurs huskily, breaking into your thoughts. He reopens his eyes to peer down at you, and when he finds you staring back at him, he grins and licks his lips again. One of his hands comes down to cup your chin and cheeks. He tilts your head back and forth, side to side, as though determining whether or not you are the one who is truly real after all this. Then he runs his fingers down the slope of your neck, between the valley of your breasts, over your belly button, until he reaches the mess between your spread legs and stops. The sharp tips of his fingers edge around your sticky, swollen folds.

“You have sullied our flower as well, haven’t you,” Seonghwa speaks up. It is more of a statement than a question.

Without waiting for a response, he releases your wrists and glides beside San to see for himself. His eyes drop down, and for the second time tonight, both demons are staring at your bare sex — except this time, it is in a much different state; the ‘after’ depiction in a set of ‘before and after’ pictures, you imagine.

San snickers at your crazed thoughts and latches his thumb onto your clit. “You make for a pretty picture, even in this state.”

“Especially in this state,” Seonghwa emphasizes.

“Wrecked...”

“...ruined...”

“...corrupted…”

“...debauched…”

“...depraved…”

Your mind flutters between a state of conscious and unconsciousness with each blasphemous word they spit your way. Your eyes fall closed as San accelerates on your slippery bud, rebuilding the pleasure he failed to bring to fruition while inside of you. But just as he reaches a tempo that will have you cresting in no time, his thumb is replaced by a pair of lips. You cannot bring yourself to see whether they belong to San or Seonghwa; your eyelids are leaden, and so is the rest of your body.

A couple fingers enter your weakly clenching core as a wicked tongue flits intricate patterns onto your clit. Hands roam along your thighs and hips; one of them reaches up to contour around your throat.

“Let go for us, pretty pet,” purrs San. His voice sounds faint and distorted, like your ears have been submerged in water, but you recognize that it comes from above you, not between you. “Let it all go...”

He sweeps that sweet spot at your center, and Seonghwa gives you one last suck to pull you over into the abyss. If you had any control of your limbs, you would clench your fingers in the sheets and curl your toes again, but you don’t. You can’t. You remain stiff as a board as a final row of pleasure washes over you. A moan swells in your throat beneath the fingers around it when it cannot pass your clamped lips.

Your mind is much nearer to the side of oblivion than wakefulness when you vaguely hear San ask, “Is there any hope left for her soul, hyung?”

The mouth leaves your quivering pussy with a parting kiss.

“For this one?” Seonghwa whispers with a light smack of his lips. “No, I am afraid she is beyond redemption.”

---

#seonghwa smut #san smut #park seonghwa smut #choi san smut #ateez smut #atz smut #seonghwa x reader #park seonghwa x reader #san x reader #choi san x reader #sanhwa x reader #ateez x reader #atz x reader #descent to depravity #lxveuntold

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purple-plum-petals · 6 months ago

Note

Hi!! I really love your homicipher content!! Could I ask you for Mr Machete headcanons in a relationship?

This man needs love please, I can't find any of it anywhere!!! 😩 And by the way, you write very beautifully! Never stop :D!

If your requests are already closed you can ignore this. Thank you and have a nice day!

⊱ Being in a Relationship with Him ⊰ || Mr. Machete Headcanons

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮ Character(s): Mr. Machete (Homicipher/文字化化) Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns) Warning(s): Spoilers for Homicipher (specifically Mr. Machete’s Route), Canon-typical Mentions of Violence (and horror-elements), Cultural Barriers (Mr. Machete Doesn’t Fully Comprehend Certain Emotions/Expresses Them Differently Than a Human Would – He Also Will Fight You™ Which Is Obviously Not Healhy IRL), Brief Mention of Blood Consumption. Genre: Headcanons, Fluff(?), Romantic Relationship (It’s Complicated, honestly). Word Count: ~1,100 words. Request: “Hi!! I really love your homicipher content!! Could I ask you for Mr Machete headcanons in a relationship?” Author’s Note: Of course, and thank you for your kind words! While Mr. Machete isn’t one of my top picks, I can certainly see his appeal. Plus, if I’m being 100% honest with everyone, he’s actually really fun to write for (which I was not expecting at all when I started writing for this fandom). This type of character usually isn’t my favorite, but I’m starting to understand the Mr. Machete fans the more I write for him… 😳 I kind of focused on the traits that Mr. Machete would look for in a partner, and what being in a relationship with him would be like. Of course, I do my best to stay as canon-compliant as possible, which means that this is not a cute list of sweet/fluffy headcanons, so just be warned (there’s nothing too horrible or crazy, just… don’t date anyone who would spear you with a huge sword irl haha). Anyway, I hope you enjoy! I had a really fun time thinking about/writing this one.

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated! ♡

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🔪: Honestly, being in a relationship with Mr. Machete can be challenging sometimes or simply impossible, especially if you’re expecting him to be a perfect gentleman who treats you like a delicate flower (spoiler alert: he won’t and he never will). He’s a rough and rugged resident of the other world, someone who is constantly on the search for exhilaration – he’s looking for someone who will give him a challenge in battle and someone who will bring stimulation into his existence that he has increasingly grown bored with. If you cannot do either, then he wants nothing to do with you. He has no problem driving his sword into your back if you do not bring him any sense of excitement and overstay your welcome.

🔪: To first catch the attention of someone like Mr. Machete, you need to be strong. Now, this doesn’t necessarily mean physical strength (even though that certainly is a bonus and he would prefer someone who is bigger or someone who is physically the same size as he is), but being strong can also be mental fortitude – someone who doesn’t let their mind and emotions take control of their life. He’s not an emotionally available type of person, not seeing the point in discussing emotions or lingering on past mistakes or sorrows, instead choosing to express himself in the only way he knows how to – violence. If there’s any stirring within him, feelings he cannot put a label on, he gets his frustrations and confusion out by slaughtering others or dueling with someone who he feels can stand toe-to-toe with him. So, if you’re in a relationship with him, you have to be okay with battling him and accepting the possibility of being injured (or even dying) as a result. It's kind of his go-to way of communicating things he cannot find the words for.

🔪: He also wants a partner he doesn’t need to babysit or look after, someone who can take care of and protect themselves if danger were to arise. He wants an equal, not someone who is fully dependent on him for physical security or emotional support. He wants someone who he can rely on and who he knows will watch his back. Mr. Machete doesn’t mind someone simply following him around (even if he’ll constantly ask you why you’re doing that despite the fact he does find it somewhat annoying) but, if you’re planning on staying with him for the long term, he prefers someone who can pull their own weight, especially so in a fight.

🔪: If you manage to meet his standards and earn his respect in either physical or verbal battles, congratulations! You now have yourself an emotionally unavailable partner who loves violence and is constantly looking for excitement to fill the aching void inside his chest! He’ll frequently do things in your relationship that go against what you tell him (the primary example being when he just threw the MC across the chasm despite her yelling for him to stop), and he doesn’t understand why it makes you upset, especially since everything usually works out in the end. He doesn’t pick up on context clues either so if you need him to do something specific, you’ll need to tell him that since he doesn’t read between the lines. If you try and explain it to him, though, there’s about a 50/50 chance he’s actually listening to what you’re saying – it depends on his mood.

🔪: However, after the two of you spend more time together, he does find himself (albeit begrudgingly) enjoying your company. He’s always traveled alone, looking for a home he cannot remember yet a deep part of him longs for. He’s never been one to have companions or appreciate another's company… yet here you were – still following him around despite everything, and he actually found himself liking it (maybe, just maybe, you could find a home in one another).

🔪: He would need a partner who was quick-witted and not afraid to bite back at his complaints with snide or snippy remarks. Mr. Machete finds bantering with you surprisingly enjoyable, and he often tries to guess what you’ll say to him before you even have the chance to think of a good comeback. You can tell when his feelings start shifting a bit, too, finding that he criticizes your weapon and stature less frequently and instead praises you on things you do well, such as your improvements in battle (even though he’ll still remark that you move too slow). That’s fine, though – he doesn’t mind training with you more to give you an opportunity to enhance your skills.

🔪: Mr. Machete will never really be soft with you no matter how much time passes, and that’s just something you’ll have to accept if you want to be in a relationship with him. Once you have won him over, though, he will stick by your side through thick and thin, and he finds himself fleeing from battles less often, almost as if he’s trying to impress you (however, if both of you do need to flee, he’ll fling you over his shoulder and leave while carrying you instead of leaving you behind in the dust, so that’s an improvement at least). He’ll also keep you healthy, willingly cutting open his palm without you asking him to do so, placing it above your mouth while his blood trickles down your throat – he’ll give you as much of his blood as you need if it means getting your body to work again. He doesn’t want you to be weak, so he’ll help you stay strong.

🔪: Not big on most typical ways of displaying affection, instead finding the best way to show you his respect and endearment by challenging you to duels. It’s almost like a dance between the two of you, an opportunity to see how much the other has improved while the sound of your weapons clashing echoes through the concrete corridors of the other world in a haunting song of bloodlust and complicated feelings of love. After battle, though, sometimes he’ll just… hold you. It feels surprisingly normal – you sitting in his lap, head resting against his chest while you close your eyes and catch your breath, and his arm flung around your shoulder while he holds you close. The moments when you two aren’t searching for your home or fighting something (or each other) are rare and eerily calm, yet they’re also relaxing and bring you both a sense of peace in each other's presence. Mr. Machete doesn’t find these brief instances boring, either, even though he knows he should detest them... he doesn't mind sharing the occasional moment of quiet with you.

#🌸 . plum writes #homicipher #文字化化 #homicipher x reader #homicipher x you #mr machete #mr machete x reader #mr machete x you #homicipher imagines #homicipher headcanons #imagines #headcanons #fluff #x reader #reader insert

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donutsupremacy · 8 months ago

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Victory

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Summary

"A new face had been spotted around the Fortress of Meropide, earning themselves a name by challenging others to a duel, and it was a surprise to see them winning fights left and right. They even challenged you! What a joke! And of course you were going to put them back in their place! After all, only a fool would challenge the duke's [S/O]."

Warnings/Spoilers

Written during 4.6

Gender neutral reader

Reader has a Pyro vision and wields a catalyst

Reader isn't the traveller

Traveller's existence is irrelevant/ not mentioned

Post-Archon Quest Fontaine

Physical fighting (Boxing with elements)

Reader is basically Pyro Wriothesley

Lots and lots of 3rd grader trash talking

Flirting, lots and lots of cringy flirting

Fluff and gotta sprinkle in some tiny bit of angst

TW: Scars (If you're uncomfortable with them)

A/N: Good to be alive again :D (Had an idea to write Albedo fic for his birthday, ended up getting swarmed with homework for the past few months, so after this I'll work on Albedo fic)

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Your romance begins here

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"Is this really worth it?"

"Oh, absolutely." You replied without a single hint of hesitation in your voice when Rousimoff, the Pankration Ring host, questioned.

You eyed the man standing on the opposite side of the ring, his biceps flexing and his Electro vision danging by his belt. This nobody challenged you, and you weren't a coward to put your reputation on the line. Especially with your recent win streak.

Rousimoff scoffed, patting your back, but the amusement and excitement in his eyes was obvious. There hasn't been a more exciting fight since the last time you entered the ring.

"Aren't you supposed to be on arrest or something?" Rousimoff questioned, a doubtful expression on his face.

You let out a 'pfft!', waving your hand dismissively. Sure, you were technically banned from any form of fighting because you may or may not have attacked an inmate who was spreading rumours about you, but they were asking for it! "Arrest, shm-errest. Wrio will understand! Besides... I've got nothing better to do." You retort.

"Just don't make a mess on the ring, alright? Last guy left a huge hole on the floor and the duke gave me an earful for it." Rousimoff sighs, rubbing his temples. It took a while to get that dent fixed, and you were pretty well known to make a mess without realizing.

"Hey, c'mon now." You nudged his shoulders. "You and everyone else get a good show, I get to kick someone to the curb. Fair trade, no?" You laughter sounds, attracting your opponents attention, whose cocky grin met yours.

"All ready?" The host asked, nodding his head to a group of your fellow inmates, some cheering on for you while the other half was rooting for your opponent to break your victory streak.

You stood up from your seat, rolling your shoulders and cracking your fist, your Pyro vision shining as you felt adrenaline pumping through your veins. Lately, you only had enough time to spar with some friends for about a few minutes, this was the first time you were about to have a full-on brawl with some random newbie after months of no action.

This was going to be fun.

. . . . . . . . .

The smell of sweet tea hung in the air as Wriothesley examined the mechanical gauntlets, flexing his fingers and moving his hand slightly to check on the movement limitations. A young man stood in front of his desk, anxious and slightly hunched over, waiting for his client's input.

"Great, seems like everything's back in order." Wriothesley spoke, nodding in approval as he donned his usual grin. "You have my gratitude."

The young man lets out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding in, slouching slightly to relax for a few seconds before standing up. With a polite bow, the young man quickly left the office, giving Wriothesley some privacy.

The Cryo vision wielder sat back down behind his desk, putting away the gauntlets as he picked up the cup of tea, blowing it to cool the liquid down slightly.

The Fortress of Meropide seemed to be more chaotic than usual as of late, especially when that new inmate got registered. Supposedly charged for multiple cases of assault, it was no surprise that he was the root of trouble, causing numerous disturbance to the other inmates.

As much as he'd like to interfere to keep the peace and balance within the fortress, it was supposedly a 'fair fight' since the inmate was given full consent, which meant that it was technically more of a duel.

Plus— Wriothesley needed some relaxation, after the whole ordeal with the prophecy and the catastrophe that nearly ended Fontaine. He was glad that now he had some time for himself.

"Some peace and quiet..." Wriothesley mumbled in relief, lifting the cup to his lips that quirked into a smile. It was time to relax.

"Your grace!"

The sound of the door slamming below his office startles Wriothesley, flinching as a few drops of tea spilled onto his desk. He groans quietly, putting the cup back down as the sound of footsteps climbed the stair case. "And... not a moment too soon."

"Your grace! It's about your [S/O]!" The guard exclaimed as soon as they reached the top of the stairs, one hand on the railing with the other on the hip and slightly hunched over, panting and out of breath from running.

His brows perked in surprise, did you get in trouble again? You were supposed to be on 'probation', too! You really didn't know when to rest, huh?

"What happened to them being supervised?" Wriothesley questioned, arms crossed and a disappointed frown on his face.

The guard gave a sheepish laugh. "...The guard looking after them left for lunch..."

Wriothesley sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Of course this would happen, you always get your way in the most ridiculous ways possible... Last time you were under 'strict supervision', you manage to sneak away from the guard in charge of looking after you by diving into the waters surrounding his office and disappearing to Archons knows where.

But then again... you make things interesting. Maybe that's why he loves you. Maybe a little too much, with how he was barely strict with you...

"Alright... what did they do this time?"

[Meanwhile...]

"That all you got?"

"Dodge this!"

You snort, swerving your head to the right, narrowly avoiding another hit. "How's that for a dodge, buddy?" You teased.

Your body feels a little numb, from the adrenaline or from enduring hits and the electricity lingering on your skin, you weren't sure. Neither did you really care. This was fun!

You lifted up your arm to block another punch, narrowly deflecting it— ember and sparks flying across the ring, grazing against the flesh of your face.

"All this commotion's going to arouse Wriothesley's attention..." Rousimoff mutters, the sound of your fellow inmates cheering loudly nearly filled the fortress. If it weren't your presence garnering attention, it would be the loud audience that attracted other passersby.

Small explosions created by Pyro and Electro continued to sound throughout the ring each time your fists met your opponent's blocks, your grunts mixed with his. The sounds were loud enough to mask Wriothesley's boots clicking against the floor, approaching the ring.

His brows furrowed and his lips tugged into a disapproving frown when he saw you, bruised and battered with sweat dripping from your forehead. How long has this 'duel' been going on? You look like you were about to collapse, yet, the adrenaline was making you tough it out.

He knew you were a tough fighter, he's seen how passionate you could get in a fight, even if it was just training— but you were still a human who had limits, limits you keep forgetting about just for the thrill of a fight.

"Alright, time to shut down the show, everyone." Wriothesley's voice was loud and firm, laced with his usual strong authority. Yet, his eyes were trained on you, slight concern hidden beneath his stoic demeanour.

Hearing Wriothesley's voice, the cheering quickly died down. You, too, heard your lover's voice, your eyes widening in surprise as you spotted the dark haired man standing by the Pankration ring. Uh oh, you're in deep trouble.

Seeing you distracted by Wriothesley's presence, your opponent took the opportunity, attempting to aim for the side of your face.

"Woah!" You managed to barely grab his wrist, just a hair's width away from contact. Electro meeting Pyro, you could feel your skin getting burned and shocked at the same time. You felt the adrenaline stop pumping, all of a sudden— you felt acutely aware of the stinging pain in your body.

In just a split second, your vision started to glow brightly, the fire surrounding your arms flaring up as the electricity rapidly surged from your opponent.

An explosion echoed throughout the fortress, causing the ground to rumble from the impact, you felt a large gust of wind shove you and everyone else nearby backwards. Your back met the wall behind you, skull slamming against the metal plates followed by a slight crack— and your vision cuts.

"...."

. . . . . . . . .

"[Name]... damn... reckless..."

"[Name]... come on..."

"[Name]!"

"Aaah!" You let out a yelp, flailing in your bed as you felt the aftershock from the explosion and the all too familiar feeling of a strong blast shoving you. Your head stings, a lot, and you had the urge to throw up.

"Woah! Relax!" Wriothesley exclaimed, hands gripping your shoulder, but not too firmly in fear of injuring you further. "That shockwave really did a number on you, huh?"

He gently laid you back down onto the soft mattress of your bed, you sighed, noticing your head and most of your body wrapped in bandages. Your skin littered with burn marks, some were minor and would heal easily, there were about a few major ones that might leave a scar or two accompanying your old ones.

"No kidding." Wriothesley sighed, voice filled with disappointment as he shook his head, worry hidden underneath. "What did I say about getting into fights?" The Cryo vision wielder spoke, now his voice laced with his usual authority, albeit a little softer only for you.

"Ohh... ohhhh, I'm... not in a good shape..." You managed to croak out, your arm resting on your chest while the other hung in the air slightly, you were so drained that you can barely raise your arms.

At least your heart's still beating, you're thankful that you've somehow managed to survive such a powerful Overload.

You barely wheezed out a laugh, giving your beloved a cheeky smile. "Wasn't a fight— It was a duel~" You quipped.

Wriothesley rolled his eyes, the corner of his lips curved into an amused grin. Of course you'd still try to crack a joke after narrowly dodging death.

"You're lucky we had Sigewinnie nearby at the time." The male scoffed, lightly poking your cheek.

"Give my thanks to that little angel." You hummed, relaxing in your bed, a satisfied smile on your face at lightening the mood and getting patched up by a reliable doctor.

Since your bed was pretty big (Benefits of being the duke's S/O!), you scooted aside slightly and adjusying your position, letting the duke sit on the bed. He was careful not to bump you with his hip, he knew that you were just trying to downplay the situation so you wouldn't get a scolding from him... which wouldn't work anyways.

"So... want me to have 10 guards look after you when you've recovered?" Wriothesley scoffed, carefully lifting your head and guiding you to rest on his lap. You let out a sigh of content, his fingers carressing your cheek, thumb tracing circles on the flesh.

A quiet and strained laugh leaves your slightly sore throat. "Wrio, c'mon... I just wanted to have fun..." You sighed. "...Sorry, alright?... I didn't mean to deviate from your orders like this, but... well, hard to resist. It's like how you can't go a single day without tea~"

"Don't bring my tea into this, [Name]." He chuckles, patting your head. "Then, I'll just have to be the one keeping an eye on you from now on."

Huffing, you gave the male a pout. "It wasn't that bad." You tried to protest, the idea of being under supervision 24/7 was already annoying enough, but your lover being the one to look after you isn't as fun as others may think— especially when he gets overprotective without realizing. You love him, yes... it's just sometimes, it seems like he forgets that you still have capabilities.

"Dove, you're covered in bandages and bedridden... I don't want this to happen again." Wriothesley sighs, rubbing his temples. His brow furrowed, it was easy to pick up the clear disdain in your voice, knowing you still wanted some semblance of freedom and have the ability to stay independent.

He leans down towards you, lips grazing on your forehead. "...I promise I won't coddle you so much this time... just see this as... us hanging out— but much more frequently where I can keep an eye on you and make sure you don't end up in the infirmary again, alright?"

You chuckled, muscles loosening at the gentle kiss... Okay, maybe getting coddled once in a while wasn't so bad.

"...Same thing~" You chirped, tilting your head slightly and connecting his lips with yours. "But okie doki, deal."

"Deal." Wriothesley hums as he pulled his lips away, giving you an affectionate grin. One hand continues to carress your cheek, the other brushing against the fresh bandages on your arm.

Your skin tingles from the warmth of his fingertips through the bandage, arms twitching slightly as you attempted to lift them.

Though, you clearly still needed to rest a little longer before you can fully move your body again. For now... you'll just lay here, resting on Wriothesley's lap.

And to boast about how you definitely won that duel against that rambunctious inmate. Victory is yours~

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact reader insert #genshin x reader #genshin wriothesley #genshin impact wriothesley #genshin wriothesley x reader #genshin impact wriothesley x reader #genshin impact oneshot

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dunderhead99 · 11 days ago

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♥!!!!!Operation: Child Support (Part 7)!!!!!♥

(( ♥!!!!WARNING: NOSE BLEED/WOLF ATTACK!!!!♥ ))

(( Carol Belongs to @reanimatedbrainmeat and Angelo belongs to @fluffy--mafia and I know their parts were kinda short in this one but imma try and make up for that next chapter. I got so many ideas and I hate that I can't fit em all iiiiin TwT))

🔥 C- Carefully

🔥 H- Handle

🔥 I- Ill

🔥 L- Lost

🔥 D- Daughter

❄ S- Supervise

❄ U- Uplift

❄ P- Provide

❄ P- Protect

❄ O- Observe

❄ R- Rehabilitate

❄ T- Treatment

/////////////

“Everyone smile for the camera!” Angelo called as he set the camera's timer before joining with the rest of the family that stood in front of the garden's pond to set the scenery.

Carol and Angelo stood side by side with Father who stood over the Delightful Children, including Bailey.

Bailey had been centered with the Delightful Children, who seemed to be putting on forced smiles except for David, who wore a more cold neutral expression most of the time.

It was hard to tell what any of them were thinking.

Carol had been holding onto goat baby Piper, who seemed to be growing fussy from the cold nippy air.

They would whine and kick in the bundled constraints of a soft blue blanket Carol wrapped them in to conserve a little warmth.

“Oh, Piper, hang in there just a moment longer, darling.” Carol hushed gently.

As the camera counted down the last few seconds, there would be a slight drop of melted snow that slid off the branch of a blossom tree that landed right on Piper's forehead.

The snow caused Piper to fuss louder, and unexpectedly, tendrils would be lurking from underneath the bundling blanket, flailing around in an angry manner.

Piper wanted to go inside, and Bailey looked like she was about to run, but Father sensed her fear, and decided to put his hands on her shoulders to keep her from freezing up.

“Slow your roll, Piper isn't gonna eat you… probably- They ate, right?” Father asks Carol, which Bailey laughed off nervously as a twisted joke of his.

“Uh- M-Miss Carol? Is the baby alright? They seem a bit upset-” Bailey gasps as she has to dodge a tentacle from whacking her glasses off.

“Believe it or not, that's normal.” Angelo says nonchalantly. In other words, same shit, different day.

“Oh, they're just a bit cold, but we'll warm up inside soon. Say cheese everyone!” Carol chirped, seeming very calm as she casually held the demon spawn in her arms that wailed, wriggled and screamed very unhappily.

In the end, the family photo turned out as well as it could have with little Piper being in the middle of their small tantrum with the cold elements.

Angelo had a smile that could kill, Father held a sharp gaze, Carol stood prideful, and as pleasant as Bailey was, the fear in her eyes was evident through that tense smile she held as the camera flashed to take the photo.

“Absolutely beautiful, Dew Drop! This family is truly complete now.” Carol smiles before hanging the freshly framed family picture on the wall.

Carol gently pet Bailey's hair, finding how easy it was to be a motherly figure to the girl.

Although Carol could never replace Bailey's mother, she wanted to be the positive female role model she could be for her.

Of course, that wasn't hard to accomplish, considering how well Bailey had been taken care of.

The Delightful Children all roll their eyes as they listen to Carol coddle who they considered to be a stain of the family.

Standing out in the hallway of the living room, they end up pushing Lenny inside toward Carol and Bailey so that they can enact their personal mission, Operation: Bleach Out.

The first trial of the plan was for Lenny to lead Bailey toward the outskirts of town to abandon her in the woods.

“Wait- I'm starting to have some second thoughts about this-”

Before Lenny could utter more, Carol noticed the red helmet boy before calling him along.

“Lenny, dear, don't be shy. Why don't you spend some quality time with your sister?” Carol bubbled.

“Oh- That's really okay. I'm sure he would rather-

… Oh…” Bailey's soft tone of voice hadn't caught Carol's attention as she began to walk away on her CEO level heels.

“If anyone needs me, I'm going to be working on a few special things in my workshop…. And to ensure that Piper doesn't burn the house down. They were pretty fussy this morning.” The sound of Carol's heels would softly fade as she walked out of sight, which left Bailey with lil Lenny.

Lenny felt a little stand-offish and awkward, but he had his part of the plan to complete, and then they would be rid of the stain forever.

“... So! Heh… It was a nice morning, aside from the chill. I know that was my fault.” Bailey began, trying to be light and positive.

“I'll try not to make it a habit, but if you ever want a snow day, you know who to come to. Ahah- just kidding. That would be kinda irresponsible.” Bailey chuckles, but at this point, it felt like she was desperately trying to fill in for the uncomfortable silence.

Lenny was silent and stared at her blankly for a moment, wondering how this operation would progress and move itself along.

He had to begin with the first phase of getting Bailey out of the house and showing her around the neighborhood.

“Um… So… What would you like to do, Lenny? … Actually, where's everyone else? I've never seen you without them until now.” Bailey noted curiously over the absence of the other Delightful Children.

“They're around. I just wanted to spend quality time with my sister.” Lenny lied.

“I was actually thinking we could go for a little stroll.” He suggested.

“I don't mind that. I'll try not to freeze the neighborhood again.” Bailey smiles, thinking that Lenny meant well enough.

“uh- maybe grab a jacket just in case. I don't want to give you a cold.” She added.

Grabbing his jacket, Lenny was ready to stroll with Bailey down the neighborhood sidewalk.

As they walk along, he notices the trail of frosty steps she leaves behind, and how chilly it was to stand near Bailey, something he also felt during picture time as well.

“Why are you always so cold?” Lenny shivered slightly.

“Huh? Oh, I'm sorry… Here.” Bailey took off her scarf to wrap around lil Lenny.

“Hey what are you-!?” Lenny tensed, and it took a moment to realize Bailey had given lil Lenny her scarf to warm up in her presence.

“... Your scarf? Aren't you cold?” Lenny asks as he pointed out the slight blue skin frosting on Bailey's neck area.

“... It'll keep you warmer than me. I'll be alright.” Bailey ensured.

It was one of those nice kind hearted acts that Lenny wasn't sure how to react to.

Why was she so nice? All it did was make things more frustrating for him, and he couldn't help but scoff to himself.

“Yeah, that's what you said last night. Then you froze the entire house, and caused a snow day in the middle of April.” Lenny replied flatly.

“Well… That's a bit different. I just have trouble sleeping.” Bailey began, drawing her hands into her sweater sleeves.

“I don't know why. Isn't it more comfortable in our home than out on the streets?” Lenny inquired, perhaps with insensitivity.

“Of course. …. It's not that I'm ungrateful. I know very well that Papa could have turned me away.” Bailey says more softly.

“Then why are you always so gloomy? You hardly eat, you freeze at any given moment, and you hardly even make eye contact when someone's speaking to you. Carol obviously wants to be a mother figure to you, and you haven't even called her by Mother yet.” Lenny was quick to point out.

Most teens wouldn't have the patience, but Bailey drew in a deep breath, looking down at lil Lenny as the frost crunched beneath her steps.

“I appreciate everything Miss Carol is doing to welcome me. There's only so much she can do.” Bailey says.

“Only so much? What else do you need?” Lenny asks rhetorically.

“My Mama” Bailey answered simply, which left a bit of a silent momentary gap between them.

“But- she's not coming back, so… I have to accept that eventually. I mean… I have, and I haven't.” Bailey says, looking forward along their walk.

Lenny wasn't really sure what to say, feeling a strange sense of foot-in-mouth syndrome.

Perhaps he never thought of Bailey as someone with a past, only having seen her as a stain that made the family weaker as a unit.

“.... Why did she leave you?” Lenny asks.

“.... I'm not really sure.” Bailey answered in a bittersweet kind of tone.

As they walked, a small cloud formed over Bailey's head, and it began to rain slightly, so Lenny would have to make a distance between them to refrain from getting drenched by Bailey's rain cloud.

“Is she always this gloomy?” He muttered to himself, and Bailey could tell how annoyed he was already.

“Sorry… Do you just want to turn around?” Bailey figured that her emotions were getting the best of her, which was affecting her powers, but the tears were easy to blend in under the rain.

They couldn't turn around just yet, Lenny still had to lead Bailey and ditch her all the way into the outskirts.

“No- let's keep going. There's a pathway that's nice to stroll through this time of day. We should go.” Lenny insisted.

“Alright. It is a pretty nice day for a small hiking trail.”

“I know the path like the back of my hand. Then, we'll return home.” Lenny insisted confidently.

Lil Lenny guides Bailey through the old wooden gate that divides the neighborhood from the woods.

There would be a small path that resided by an old abandoned window mill near the bottom of the hill.

“Do you come here often? I never would've thought you were the venturing type. Especially all the way out here.” Bailey says, taking in the natural atmosphere of the forest.

“There's lots of things you don't know about me. Or our family.” Lenny says rather harshly.

Bailey was a bit stuck between a rock and hard place because no matter how she tried to converse, Lenny didn't seem to want to uphold any conversation.

He seemed to want to speak with her as little as possible, probably because he knows what he's about to do.

“..... Lenny… Can we just talk? Like- is there anything you need to get off your chest?” Bailey knew from the moment the Delightful Children started messing with her that something was wrong, and the tension only seemed to be growing like weeds in a garden since then.

“Like what, exactly?” Lenny tried to play it off, but perhaps there was frustration growing within him, the deeper they ventured into the darker part of the woods.

“... I think I know what it is, but you gotta meet me halfway, Lenny. I don't know what to do other than try to understand. That's all…” Bailey sighs.

“Okay, fine. You wanna know what the problem is?” Lenny shot a glare towards her through the darkness of his helmet, his blue eyes piercing like hateful daggers.

“It's me.”

“It's You! …. Wait-” Lenny didn't expect Bailey to answer so clearly for him.

“I know it's me, Lenny. My issues have nothing to do with you, and I know it probably feels really messed up and unfair that I'm in your space. I realize that.” Bailey says softly.

“.... So- then- why do you put up with it? Huh? You seem to let everything roll off your back. Why don't you just stand up for yourself already?? Why do you have to be so soft??” Lenny snapped, perhaps letting a bit of anger get the best of him.

Bailey didn't have any answers for him though, and she was unable to utter an answer he would understand.

“... Tch… It doesn't matter. You make us weaker as a unit. You're no Wigglestein, you'll never be cut out for this life. You should get out while you still can.” Lenny says.

Although it did come off harsh, there was a little bit of warning in his undertone.

“.... You're probably right, Lenny. But I've been running for so long at this point. I don't know where else I'd run off to.” Bailey says truthfully.

She wasn't hurt, or angry, or devastated.

Bailey seemed to speak from a place of exhaustion, as the raincloud kept pouring over her.

Lenny saw how pathetic and pitiful the scene was, and he had to force himself to turn his back to her.

“Don't make this harder than it has to be.” Lenny says shortly.

At that point, Bailey caught onto the real purpose of this walk, but she still wasn't angry at him.

She understood his frustration, and the last thing she wanted was to cause any issues.

For one thing, she didn't have the energy to fight.

Without saying much, Bailey turned and made an opposite direction into the woods, leaving Lenny to return home once she made a decent distance between them.

As he hears her footsteps fade away, he walks along the path, only to hear a dreadful crunch of a twig nearby.

With a groan, Lenny turns around, presumably to tell Bailey off again.

“Didn't I tell you to go away??” Lenny practically shouted, but he quickly silenced once he heard low growls coming from the shadows, paired with hungry yellow eyes that glow through the brushes of leaves and tall grass.

His throat went dry as he found himself backing up against a tree, his body tensing, as if preparing for what would come next.

The grey wolf stepped into the sliver of sunlight that broke through the tree's, having a hungry predatory glare at the small helmet boy.

“N-Nice wolfy-” Lenny trembles in his spot, having limited options and nowhere to run.

Even if he did run, the wolf would've been much, much faster.

Before Lenny even gets the chance to act, the Grey Wolf lets out a loud howl that echoes through the forest, before going to pounce on his meal.

Lenny let out a natural fearful scream as he shields himself for the worst to come.

Surprisingly though, Lenny is saved when the wolf is tackled to the ground by an unknown force.

He looked up to see that it was Bailey.

She had managed to come back as soon as she heard the wolf's howl.

Bailey struggled and fought the wolf with an energy that Lenny didn't know she even had.

It was like watching a whole other person as Bailey clung onto the wolf's back, her arms coiled around its neck as she struggled to fight him off away from Lenny.

“RUN LENNY!!” Bailey shouted as the wolf snapped and snarled at her angrily.

She kept yelling at Lenny to run, but he had actually stood there frozen, perhaps in shock at what he was seeing.

The wolf ends up getting the upper hand as he easily throws Bailey off its back, making her fly hard with her back against the tree.

The wind had been knocked out of her, and the wolf stood over her with malice.

“Run Lenny! RUN!” Bailey kept shouting as she then had to fight the snapping jaw of the gray beast.

Lenny knew he should have run, but instead, he does something that the other Delightful Children would've considered a stupid move.

He bravely takes a large rock and throws it hard over the wolf's tail, causing it to howl and whine in pain.

“BAILEY!” Lenny shouted for her to get up while she had the chance.

Bailey gets up and takes Lenny by the arm, sprinting with him as fast as she can because the wolf would not be too far behind.

Time was essential and limited, so Bailey ends up pulling Lenny over her back so they can both make it to safety.

Although it was the last thing Lenny wanted to do, he clung onto Bailey with dear life.

He didn't even care that Bailey's rain cloud was still pouring down over their heads, although it wasn't raining anymore, it was more like pelts of icy hail that the wolf would occasionally slip on, which did buy them a little time to stay ahead.

“Run faster!!” Lenny shouted anxiously, hearing the thumping of the wolf gaining onto them, as well as his heart pounding against his chest.

Unfortunately, they didn't make it to the old abandoned windmill by the hill, like they originally entered, which meant they were a little lost.

“Lenny, how do we get back home?”

“I… Uh… I don't know-” Lenny began.

“What do you mean you don't know??”

“Look! A lot is happening right now! I can hardly concentrate!” Lenny snapped, right before a dreadful howl could be heard not too far behind.

“Lenny- Just… Just go. Go find your way home, I'll be fine.” Bailey set Lenny down.

“What?? You're insane! You'll get eaten!” Lenny argued.

“Then that'll make me more or less your problem, won't it?” Bailey took a breath before staring down the wolf that locked his hungry eyes on them as he approached.

Lenny stood a little behind Bailey, unsure of what he should do.

The wolf was slowly inching closer, and Bailey still stood her ground, frost forming around her feet, this time with a greater purpose.

Her mission was to keep Lenny safe, which meant she was going to have to fight whether she wanted to or not.

“Lenny, look away.” Bailey warned.

Lenny in fact, did not look away, as Bailey started approaching the wolf herself.

She was a lot less timid, as she used her icy magic to make ice form around her arm before the wolf could get a chunk off with his teeth.

In the end, biting down on the icy gauntlet ends up with him losing a tooth or two.

With the other icy gauntlet, Bailey reached an arm back to land a hard punch to crunch the wolf's sensitive nose.

It probably stung worse than anything, and the wolf whines grow louder with a sound of defeat, especially when Bailey began forming what looked to be a scythe weapon made entirely out of ice.

The wolf would whimper before running back into the shadows of the woods, and once they were finally safe, Bailey fell to her knees with a newfound exhaustion.

It had been forever since she used her powers to fight like that, as that use of energy is very draining in her condition.

She used all she had in order to protect Lenny, and blood could be seen draining from her nose from the strain.

Her eyes had turned red during that sequence as well, which were now dulled into a more purple haze as opposed to their more natural ocean blue color.

“Lenny…. Are you okay?” Bailey turns back to Lenny before the dizziness ends up taking her into a blackout, and she falls onto the dried leaves below that cushion her unconscious fall.

#codename kids next door #knd au #knd villains #knd ocs #knd fanfic #proshitters dni #dcfdtl #knd father

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angel4astraea · 2 years ago

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꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ft. . neuvillette, lil bit of furina ꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ content warning(s). . smutty content below which includes spanking, degrading words, exhibitionism, masochism, d/s elements. ꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ word count. . 1.35k ꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ author's note. . i'm finally get into this! it's based on a previous post of mine ;)

it had been a busy day within the court room, many coming and going with their sentences and some out the doors scott-free. among the few that watched was neuvillette, the chief justice of fontaine. he was silent most times, only speaking when there was something that needed to be said. his brooding height and stone cold face had frightened off most workers but not you.

you were his little assistant, if you could call yourself that. you sat next to him during these long sessions of court, listening to pleads, shitty explanations and cockiness from those who stood on the ground below the balconies. though, past your job, you were his wife--not by choice though. a contract was filled by your father, who supplies precious metals and items to keep the city moving. it had been a few years since your unwanted marriage, and it had been a decent enough one. though, neuvillette held his private life in when talking to others, preferring to keep the little secrets and sights to himself.

a little secret had been hiding in your plush walls, a plug that no longer felt like it was stretching you like earlier when you begged him to let you be good and not wear it. but he insisted, saying it matched your formal attire. every once in a while, you'd shift in your seat, breath hitching and face flustered from the sensation. of course, he noted every reaction mentally, eyes glancing over at you a few times. after it got unbearable, the tears of frustration rested on your lower lashline, eyes pleading for him to do something. . anything. he made no attempt at moving or addressing the little issue, shrugging you off. that was until you grasped his hand and pulled it to your thighs. that was a big no-no.

neuvillette's eyes shifted to you, shooting a warning look your way. "be patient." he spoke lightly, yet sternly. his furrowed eyebrows soon relaxed as he looked back down at the subjects, focusing on their words once again. how much longer was this going to be? hopefully not long. the need for release after the bulbous ridge of the plug hit a patchy spot within, further frustrating you. his hand had returned the chair, ignoring you.

with a huff, you looked around and noticed no staff members were around. your fingers slowly inched towards the end of your skirt, fingertips stroking where your clit was hidden underneath the underwear you wore. the fabric felt damp against your skin, the uncomfortable feeling between your legs throbbing once again. though, you applied pressure, breath hitching. you hoped he hadn't noticed but neuvillette noticed everything. he was an observant man in general, piercing eyes staring at your movements. his nostrils flared in irritation, his other hand gripping the handle of his cane. you were screwed, so very screwed.

his eyes met yours, squinting. your fingers left your panties, resting on your lap now. that stare had sent a shiver down your spine, muscles tensing. uh oh.

neuvillette's gloved hands rested on his cane as he stood up from his seat. the trial was now finished but that didn't mean he was finished with giving punishments. his eyes narrowed in on you, jaw firm and clenched tightly. he had been fed up with your disobedience and finally, there was enough time to properly discipline you.

neuvillette however, had little patience left. when the audience below had all left their seats, leaving the opera house empty, that's when cane nudged your leg. "get up. lean over the balcony, i believe it's time for your trial." he crossed one leg over the other, hardened stare piercing into your flesh. ". .trial? but-" you stopped, mouth agape. silently, you stood from your seat and bent over the balcony, looking back at your husband. he furrowed his eyebrows softly, mouth downturned slightly. "look forwards." you did so, staring ahead at where furina was still sitting, head leaned on head left hand. your face turned red, eyes widening with surprise. the hydro archon is going to watch?

"do you accept the charges of inappropriate public conduct, mrs. name?" neuvillette's breath hit the back of your neck as he spoke, voice low and firm, just like how he would speak to anyone. your thighs squeezed together, the thrill of being caught by the public but also being observed by furina producing a rather timid response from you. "i do." you said quietly, eyes focusing on the balcony across from where you stood.

neuvillette stood up and sat back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other once again. "it is factual that you had disobeyed directions by a superior, is that correct?" he spoke, fingers wrapped around the handle of his cane. a moment went by before you spoke, "yes, your honour. however, given the-" your words were cut off by the tip of his cane lifting the edge of your skirt, peering at the wet spot left on your panties. "continue." he then lightly tapped your right thigh with the cane, returning to the hem of your skirt. "given the nature of the situation, perhaps it was justifiable?" you spread your legs less than an inch, feeling the cool wood and metal press against your covered cunt.

with a grunt, neuvillette removed the object, placing the end on the floor. "impossible conclusion." he began, "you know the laws of this nation, alongside the rules between man and wife. yet, you challenged them in front of not only myself, but the hydro archon and possibly the audience below." the oratrice's left side tilted heavily to the left, signifying that neuvillette's points were quite valid and strong. with a soft sigh, you bow your head down and think. "that is true, however, your honour, you have plugged me with the intent to tease. isn't it rational that i have acted such a way after hours?" the oratrice moved slightly to the right. good, your point was strong.

the man behind you was silent as he placed his hand on his chin in thought. then he cleared his throat and lifted his cane to press it against your covered core. "then explain why you couldn't ask properly at an appropriate time? as you know the guidelines, it does not excuse your public behaviour. anything else to say?" neuvillette pressed the butt of the cane into your core more, watching as your thighs shook and closed together. the plug had somehow nuzzled itself further, drawing a heavy breath from your chest. "nothing more, your honour."

"then let us receive the oratrice's decision." the opera's walls and ceiling flashed a blue colour, shining over the balcony and seats. the small piece of paper rose from an opening, neuvillette taking it out and reading aloud, "guilty."

your head lifted to look at furina. she wore a smug grin, the leg that was crossed over her other bouncing. it must've been quite a show for her since it was very rare that she got insight on his marriage to you.

"you know what must happen now, correct?" neuvillette spoke up, gesturing for you to remove both your skirt and panties. you nodded silently, undoing your skirt and sliding it down your legs, panties following suit. your sticky cunt still held the plug that was nuzzled in your walls but threatened to slip out at any moment. you clenched around it, attempting to keep it in as neuvillette's cane brushed your bum. "count."

the first strike of his cane hit your cheeks, leaving a line of pink and a stinging sensation on your skin. "one!" a satisfied hum came from the rather tall man behind you, arm raised to repeat the action. again and again, he swung the cane onto your cheeks, lines and welts of pink and red forming over time, slowly turning purple. by the time it hit thirty, his hands cupped your left bum cheek softly, content with his work.

"your sentencing is over, mon cherie."

"yet i believe our archon is still intrigued. shall we let her decide if justice was served this time?"

#headcannon #genshin x reader #reader #fem reader #genshin smut #x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader smut #genshin fanfic #neuvillette #neuvilette genshin #neuvilette x reader

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elvisabutler · 2 years ago

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who's my princess?

fandom: austin butler rating: m pairing: austin butler x older female reader word count: 2169 warnings: jokes about being a sugar baby. heavy use of the nickname princess and baby boy. praise kink. faint d/s elements but not quite, you'll see in the fic. oral ( female receiving, attempted male receiving. ). public sex acts. no use of y/n. author’s note: welcome to day 4 of ally’s wet hot smut summer, praise kink with austin butler x older female reader. so here's the thing with this fic, i have been struggling to write it— and austin in general for the past week/two weeksa. to the point where i actually skipped ahead to rooster x reader titty fucking that i already posted on another account. i'll post it here once i finish my austin degradation kink day, promise. anyway what i ended up finally settling on with this fic was doing austin with an older female reader. you can read how much older however you like or if you want could ignore my reference to it being an older female reader. it also erred more toward plus size but can still be read a little more explicitly as not plus size. anyway, i hope y'all enjoy this fic even if it's a lil more niche for the fandom. as always, i do enjoy your comments and reblogs and tags and they are my writing life blood to be quite honest. there was also three different versions of this moodboard and i am still not sure i'm in love with this one. also i'm not completely back from my impromptu vacation but i wanted to post this before i tossed it in a fire or something.

"They think you're my sugar baby, you know," you murmur against the shell of Austin's ear, watching as his jaw muscle tenses just so at the implication.

His eyes slide across the room, taking in the looks people are giving the two of you. It's not that he isn't used to the looks, the slight judgment that people pass when they think he's merely just a kept boytoy but this time it hits different. For Vanessa, as much as he loved her and as much as he supposes she loved him there was always quite a kernel of truth there. It rubbed him the wrong way some days but at the same time it allowed him to slowly prove his acting chops without necessarily worrying about if he'd have a place to stay if things went horrendously wrong. But for you? For his gorgeous girlfriend? Oh, he wasn't a boytoy in the slightest. Sure, you could have made it so he was a kept man again. You could have allowed him to live in the lap of luxury and only come up for projects that were artsy and true cinema that he could sink his teeth into. No, instead he told himself he'd treat you, he'd make sure you were taken care of by him. You were older, you didn't need a partner to spoil you and cater to your every want and need. You didn't need these things but he was determined to give them to you. After all what sort of romantic partner would he be if he didn't spoil the love of his life.

"Hm," he hums softly, turning his head just enough to look you in the eyes. "Of course. They know I'm younger than you. They think I found another sugar mama to support me. If only they knew. Think they'd believe us if we told them?"

There's something so inviting and enrapturing about Austin's gaze that has you shivering just ever so slightly in delight and arousal. "About what?"

It's a dangerous game you're playing, teasing him like this but you can't help it. You want to rile Austin up in the same way he has with you on so many occasions. His tongue darts out to wet his lips before he bites his lower one. "Is my Princess playing dumb? Is she trying to be coy? Tease me?"

You smile softly and shrug, attempting to look as innocent as can be, "maybe. What are you going to do about it, baby?"

"Baby?" Austin moves to pull turn you around and pulls you closer to him, his hands settling on your plush hips and squeezing. "I think there's only one baby here, and it's not me, Princess. You don't have to tease to get what you want, you know that. My good girl knows that."

A shaky inhale is your only response for a moment as Austin smirks, his eyes dancing with a certain mixture of arousal and amusement that he only gets when he looks at you. Things between you are always a little playful, the joys of being old enough to not care about what other people think of you but it's still a delight to see after failed relationships before him. Maybe that's why you hadn't had a relationship that lasted this long before him. Maybe the universe was just having you wait for him. It takes you a moment to collect your thoughts even as you feel your arousal slowly dripping from your vagina, slowly dampening the underwear you're wearing.

"Your good girl does, but maybe I want to be bad today. Maybe I want you to show me and everyone else how desperate you always are for me," you practically purr out the last words and Austin's grip tightens just that little bit more as he moves one hand down to your behind and squeezes partially as a warning and partially as a promise.

"How desperate I am for you? How drenched are your panties? Would they stick to that pretty little pussy of yours? That pussy that was made for my cock? The one that could never be satisfied by any other cocks before mine?" His words are quiet but so deadly that you can't help the whine that leaves you even as your hand moves to cup the front of his slacks. You're in public but between the two of you, you're making your way to an empty corner with no one the wiser about what's happening. It should be mortifying the way Austin has you acting like a teenager and yet you remember that you're doing the same for him. You're both acting as if you don't have a care in the world, as if Austin and you both aren't at least partially in the public eye.

The thing is in this moment it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because all anyone is going to see is you and him having your hands all over each other because you're so in love and practically obsessed with one another that you're both needy. Even if the way you're needy is subtly different between the two of you.

"Somewhere private." The words tumble out of your mouth when you finally make it to that corner and realize that your hand is trying to undo his slacks and his hand is trying to lift of your dress as if no one would be watching. Austin looks at you with blown pupils and huffs out a breath of air from his nose before he nods, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the room and into regrettably the nearest closet he can find.

You start to drop to your knees, thinking this has to be something quick between the two of you, a quick blowjob that'll ruin your panties that he'll steal and put in his pocket for the rest of the night until you can get home. Except Austin's grip on your arm stops you, pulls you back up into a standing position even as your eyebrow arches upward in a simple unspoken question.

"I didn't ask for you to suck my dick, Princess," he murmurs, leaning over you just enough that he practically pins you to the door. "You want to be good for me, don't you? Make up for how bad you just were?"

In another time and place you'd maybe be embarrassed about how quickly you nod. In another time before Austin you'd have scoffed and shook your head. As it is all you want is to hear Austin tell you how good you are with those plush lips of his. All you want to feel his lips upon your skin, sucking hickies on it, his teeth biting your skin and leaving small indentations. You merely want all of Austin in this moment. "What—what do you want then?"

A simple question and a request for direction. You can't be his good girl, his bestest girl, his flawless girl without direction. You might be accidentally bad.

His hand moves to cup your chin and pulls you in for a featherlight kiss before moving down to your neck kissing there. You don't realize what's happening until you feel his hands cup your breasts as he places kisses along the tops of them exposed by your dress. You see his body starting to inch closer and closer down to the floor as he trails kisses down your body, setting every inch of your skin they touch ablaze with a fire that burns starting from your aching vagina. It clenches around nothing, wanting something— anything— near it and being deprived even as his lips are so close to it that he could tongue you through the fabric of your dress.

"Aus—" you start to whisper his name only to be cut off with a shaky exhale as you feel his fingertips against your calves and against your knees. You feel his fingers press into your plush thighs and bite your lip to stop yourself from whining only to have Austin remove his hands from them. "What—"

"Good girls are loud for their boyfriends. For their baby boys," he smirks and you can tell even in the low light of the closet. Any other time and you might lightly tap his face to smack it off of him but right now it has your thighs clenching together and him laughing. "You're my good girl, aren't you, Princess? My goddess of a woman. The cougar who sunk her teeth into me? I just want to hear you. I want everyone to know that I'm bringing you such immense pleasure with my tongue that you can't help but scream."

You are about to say something before Austin's head is under your dress faster than the words can come out. They're quickly forgotten in the haze and loud groan that leaves your lipstick covered lips as his fingers— those long fingers you've sucked and nipped at before— find themselves buried in your pussy. Austin plays you like a musical instrument, earning sighs and whimpers and every noise in between to form a symphony that bounces off the walls of the closet. You feel your orgasm starting to inch closer and closer before he pulls out his fingers and you keen loud enough that you hear people on the other side of the door wondering what's going on.

Austin chuckles and if you could see his eyes you're certain you would see them blown with arousal but still somehow sparkling with pure mirth. His laughter is a warm gust of air against your thigh but somehow a cool balm against your dripping cunt. Your thighs are sticky with arousal but not release and you almost want to cry before you feel Austin's breath focusing closer and closer to where you want it. "It's like a fountain down here."

The words are said with a bit of awe before he continues, "this all for me pretty girl? All for me, ma'am? If breathe just right can I get another drop?" He teases even as he lets out the smallest puff of air against your clit. "Oh. I can. So responsive. Such a good responsive woman. Couldn't ask for anyone better to be on my arm and in my bed. Maybe I should marry you. Keep you all to myself."

"Austin, please." You plea as your hands move to his hair, ruining whatever hairstyle his stylist had crafted in one fell swoop of your hands clenching at the strands.

"What my Princess wants, my princess gets," he jokes before his tongue finds its way to your throbbing clit.

The noises between your legs sound obscene with his tongue and chin and everything sliding against the arousal between your legs. He eats you out like a starving man, one of his hands moving to curl inside you as his mouth sucks your clt. It's too much and too little all at once. Your thighs tighten around his head as your hands tighten in his hair and you hear Austin moan as he shifts just enough to have his cock press against your calf. He's in control but at the same time so are you. You're making him so desperate he needs to hump your leg to get relief and he has your cunt spasming even though you haven't come just yet. You're sure you're saying words or perhaps it's just gibberish as Austin's fingers curl just so, pressing against that spot that has the coil in your lower abdomen wounding tighter and tighter. His thrusts against your legs are becoming more stuttered and your hands yank at his hair to try and pull him away so you don't come all over his face only to have him use his one free hand to grab your ass and force you grind down on his face. Somehow the brush of his nose against your clit and the way his tongue moves just so in tandem with his fingers against that spot of yours has you shouting his name even as you try and muffle it just a little. Your body shakes with aftershocks, thighs twitching against his head and lower stomach feeling like it's pulsating from the intensity. It takes both of you far longer than you'd like to admit to catch your breath and even as you do, Austin looks every bit as wrecked as you do before he opens his mouth.

"Think they still think I'm just your sugar baby?" The joke comes easily and with a soft smile. "Because that was some loud screaming, Princess. I was proud of you for it."

You can't help but look off to the side in embarrassment before you feel Austin's hand on your chin, forcing you to look at him. You swear you smell your own scent on his hand and you can't help but lick your lips. "Maybe, but I don't— Let them. Because it doesn't change that I'm your good girl, does it?"

"Never."

taglist: @ab4eva, @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, @precious-little-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @prompted-wordsmith, @lookingforrainbows, @araxw, @thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24, @austinbutlersgirl67, @heartbrake-hotel, @ccab, @18lkpeters, @slutforsomegoodlettuce, @dkayfixates, @kendralavon7, @chasingwildflowers, @slowsweetlove, @kxnnxy, @meetmeatyourworst, @purejasmine, @stylespresleyhearted, @powerofelvis, @amydarcimarie, @thegettingbyp2, @austinswhitewolf, @richardslady121 and @mrs-butler

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler x y/n #austin butler x you #austin butler fanfic #austin butler smut #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fic #ally's wet hot smut summer #ally writes

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