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lyramundana · 6 months

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Ok so hear me out:

Yknow that one tiny crop top hannie wore which showed off the entirety of his slutty jaist and cute lil toned belly in a lalalala stage?

What is reader sees all the horny stays on twt describing just what filthy things they want to do to him? What if she shows them to lino too? What is they both get so painfully turned on and deliciously jealous by it that they decide to teach our quokka a lesson? How, you may ask? By fucking him absolutely brainless and marking every single bit of his gorgeous body, especially his waist and stomach (and lower ofc)

And, the lil cherry on top of the poly!minsung sundae, what if reader makes hanni take a picture to post on his bubble while she's pounding him with her big ass strap, and lino playing with his pretty nipples?

It'll be their dirty secret, they do have quite a possessive streak (poor hannie can't wear crops for a long time after that)

ohoho you dirty anon, i love your brain so much🤭👀

Me personally, if i was the girlfriend, i'll be proud of the chaos he unleashed and join the Stays's excitement, but the idea of marking him and reducing him to a pile of tears and begs sounds far too tempting.

You bet they won't leave a single trace of his skin clean. If there's not cum in it, there's a bruise, if not a bruise, a hickey, and the list goes on. They want to imprint themselves in Hannie's body, make an statement to the world that this beautiful angel is theirs and only theirs. And sweet boy is enjoying it so much, getting punished by both of his loves is his utmost fantasy. Having their greedy hands over him, playing with him, scratching him, slapping him, it makes his cock so hard it hurts. It hurts deliciously.

They can't help it, he looked so damn good and irresistible in that top, and he knew what he was doing. He wanted to push the buttons, delight in their hungry stares on him. He loved it. It thrilled him to no end. Meanwhile, Lino is too busy counting the time until the shooting ends to drag him to the nearest empty room and teach him a lesson. When the door is closed and there's only the two of them, it's on. The only thing preventing him from ripping the damn top off it's knowing that their sweet girl would want to see it first, so he just pulls it up and rips off the jeans instead, forces him on one of the make up tables and slams unto him with a fast pace, not even prepping him. He covers Jisung's mouth with his hand to mute his moans, while the others grips his waist. Minho bites his neck roughly and sucks on it until the familiar purple-redish bruise starts to appear. His handprints are all over Jisung's butt cheeks, still bouncing against his cock helpessly. Minho has to close his eyes and groan lowly when his orgasm hits, thousands of white spots filling his vision. He ruts into Jisung's hips to push his cum deeper, and then drops him like an used toy...without making cum.

"What's the matter, slut? You wanted to cum? Too bad you don't fucking deserve it. We'll see when we get home, wonder what Mommy has to say about this"

Once they arrive, it's obvious "Mommy" isn't happy about it. Not in the slighest. She spent the entire morning seeing Stay's feral reactions to that top, and her blood boils at the idea of so many people seeing and wanting what belongs to her. She sees Jisung's glossed eyes, his trembling lips, the bruises in his pretty skin. "Mommy, please, help me. It hurts so much. Daddy left me hanging li-"

She grabs his jaw and seethes on his lips.

"You should be grateful he actually put his dick inside you, you fucking whore. You really think you deserve anything after that stunt you pulled, letting the entire world see you like this?"

He stutters, eyes wide in fear and excitement. God, he loves this.

"B-but, I didn't want to! It was my job, the stylists said-" Minho scoffs.

"Bullshit, they told me you insisted on wearing that. Said you wanted to cause an impression on our fans.."

A dark, tense silence fills the room.

"So, not only you're showing off without our permission, but you have the nerve to lie to me?" she growls.

His eyes start to get teary again. "Mommy, I.."

Minho places a firm hand on her shoulder.

"It's okay, love, it's not his fault. I think we might neglected him a bit, our poor baby. You know how much he hates not being the centre of attention all the time"

"Is that it, baby? Aw, i'm so sorry. Don't worry then, we'll make up for it"

And they do. By the end of it, he's tied on the bed, completely naked except for the top. Blindfolded and Minho thrusting his hips brutally while folds him in half by his legs. His pretty thights covered in teeth marks and bruises, same with this abdomen and cute waist. Minho whispering dirty things in his ear as the boy cries out and tries to free himself from the handcuffs. He lost count how many times he has cum, but he can feel the excess of his cum (or your and minho, he doesn't know at this point) tainting his face and lower body. She's holding a vibrator against his dick, her free hand holding the phone and recording everything.

"C'mon, Sungie, smile at the camera. Wasn't this what you wanted? Leave an impression on Stays? I'm sure they'll love this one"

Minho lets out a breathy chuckle, panting and groaning.

"Too bad they won't ever get to see this"

Jisung is a mess. His cheeks wet with his tears and reminiscence of both of his lovers' cum, drooling with his tongue out and gasping.

Such a pretty picture for Stays.

Tags: @channieandhisgoonsquad @moonlightndaydreams @2chopsticks2eyes @skzms @hyunsvngs @noellllslut @hanjibug @hanjisunglover @queenmea604 @thightswideforhanin @roseykat @minsungisvreal

#I don't know what the fuck came over me #this was supposed to be a short reply #anyway hope you enjoy!💖#poly minsung #minsung smut #minsung x reader #anon asks #lee know smut #han jisung smut #han jisung x lee know #minsung

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inkykeiji · 5 months

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Do you think daddykuna is the type who would spank you in public bc he likes humiliating you? Or would he think your cute ass is for his eyes only so he only does so behind closed doors?

oh my gosh a delicious question!!!

character: sukuna x fem!reader warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, public spanking, humiliation, dacryphilia, daddy kink, general toxicity words: 809

okay so i think sukuna is like, heavily into humiliating you, so i 100% think he’d spank you right then and there, in stark fucking daylight, no matter where you are. little girls who act like brats must be treated like brats, must be punished like brats, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. and that’s what he tells you, in that infuriatingly blasé lilt, the beginnings of a smirk toying with the left corner of his mouth.

but daddy! you’re whining, a thick shield of tears already glazing your eyes, rolled into drops by your rapid blinking and catching in your lashes, glittering so delicately as they anxiously flutter. not here! not now!

yes, here. yes, now.

you can hear the amusement and pride staining his voice; just faint notes of it infused in his words, but evident nonetheless as he takes you over his knee in the middle of a busy park on a sunday afternoon, your thrashing and wriggling not hindering him in the slightest.

he’s irritatingly unperturbed as he flips your dress up and yanks your panties halfway down your thighs, the motion simultaneously smooth and sharp, entirely unaffected by your pathetic little whimpers and choked out apologies, nails piercing his skin as your fingers curl and tangle and tug at his shirt.

it’s your own fault; you know it is, he’s saying as one large hand kneads one of your asscheeks, priming the area, collecting curious glances. you shouldn’t have misbehaved, prancing around in a manner that ensured the skirt of your dress fanned out wide and rippled, just enough to gift him with teasing glimpses of the dainty lace molded to your skin.

you shouldn’t have acted like such a stubborn fucking brat when he had warned you, calm and cautious, not to play with daddy, if you hadn’t wanted everyone to see your sweet little ass, he’s telling you over your half-stifled sobs of humiliation, chest stuttering against his strong thighs, muscles flexing beneath you as he plants his feet, readjusts his hips, places a heavy hand on the small of your back and presses down hard, pinning you in place. that must’ve been what you were aiming for, right? you wouldn’t have behaved in such a way if it weren’t, right?

you should’ve known better than to mess around with daddy, especially in public. you should’ve known that he’d take it seriously, instantly—no matter where you are, no matter who can see, no matter what may follow.

each slap is harder than the last, harsher than the last, echoing louder and louder with every collision of his palm against your skin. every impact shoves another pitiful little sound from your chest, lodging in your throat, clawing at the back of your teeth, and aw, don’t smother them, baby; we want to hear you.

it’s excruciatingly embarrassing, the eyes of bystanders and onlookers slicing into your bare, exposed skin, gazes and glares and gaping depositing trails of scorching pins they glide over your body, slow and scrutinizing.

it’s inescapable, the absolute agony their attention bestows upon you, your puffy, salt-stricken face nuzzling awkwardly into your daddy’s ribs, desperate for some semblance of protection.

please, daddy, please, daddy, please, daddy, you’re weeping out, pleads strung together in a steady stream of drool. stop, daddy, stop, daddy, stop, daddy!

you know he won’t, you know he’d never, not one to go back on his word once he’s solidified it, but you just can’t help it, entreaties pouring from your lips instinctively, uncontrollably, as natural as the snot oozing from your nose and tears blurring your vision.

you can feel his cock, hot and hard and throbbing against your tummy, but you know your sobs and whines and yelps are only half the exhilaration.

because sukuna loves showing off, sukuna gets a serious kick out of displaying what’s his; what he owns, what others can’t have, can’t touch. those looks of disgust and disbelief, of envy and enrapture, send a sick thrill surging through his veins, because there’s one thing they all have in common.

awe.

it’s the most divine feeling, makes his flesh tingle in the most delightful way as everyone admires him, admires his strength, admires his terror, admires his things—how powerful he is as every smack! rings out among the space, how pretty you are as your cries chase after the resounding sting.

it’s grotesque. it’s gorgeous. they can’t tear their gazes away from it.

possessiveness emanates off his body in dense waves, their domineering presence polluting the atmosphere and leaving it stifling—you can look, but don’t even think about touching.

their murmurs only amplify their stares, the gasps and whispers and grumbles, saturated in incredulity and audacity, in outrange and offence, only feeding his insatiable ego, bloating it with an intoxicating arrogance, ever-growing hubris gorging on their attention.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna smut #sukuna headcanons #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #ISNT HE JUST THE WORST I AM SO IN LOOOOVE WITH HIM #UGH #PLEASE #I WANNA CRY #anyway yes anon that's my answer hahahaha #i hope ur having a great day!!!#pls stay safe n enjoy ur weekend!!#inky.bb #clari gets mail #inky.sukuna

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zorrasucia · 1 month

Text

Teach Me Tonight - Part 8

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Deleted Scene] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Deleted Scene] Part 8:

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Explicit (3k)

Tags: Smut, Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Porn with a little plot, Virgin!Carmy, Masturbation, Fingering, Pegging, Thigh Riding, Fluff, Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

Summary:

(by popular demand and because I think I learnt something about myself lmao)

You walked inside the apartment after a night out with your friends that had left you a little tipsy. It was late and everything was dark. You took your shoes off and padded around, hoping you didn't wake up Carmy.

As you approached the bedroom you could hear some rustling and humming inside. You cracked the door open a little. With the glow of the moon and the streetlights you could make out the silhouette of Carmy lying in bed, hair damp from the shower and head tilted back in pleasure. A soft moan escaped his lips.

You smiled. It wasn't the first time you had walked in on him masturbating. Sometimes it would happen that he would get back from work, find you sleeping and touch himself beside you - you had woken up twice for the end of it, sleepily kissing his face and saying how good he had been, and falling back asleep. Another time in the shower, you walked in and helped him finish. He had seen you too a couple of times - one had ended with his head between your legs. Bottomline, it wasn't an issue - more often than not it was a serious turn on. And so you leaned on the doorframe, quiet and careful not to interrupt Carmy, looking at how beautiful he looked in the pale moonlight. Except he turned over and instead of seeing him holding his cock like you expected, you saw him curling two fingers inside his asshole, all digits shiny with lube, his back arching in pleasure as he got on all fours.

"Fuck," he whined, a strong exhale followed by your name.

You pressed your thighs together, your heartbeat racing, enjoying the sight more than you ever thought you would.

Carmy kept arching into himself and you recognized the frustration of not being able to reach your climax. After some moments of thought you decided to walk in.

"Carm," you said, your voice low. "Can I help?"

"Fuck," he uttered, slightly surprised. He was sweaty and desperate and it stirred something inside you. "Fuck, sorry, you don't have to-"

"I know, I want to."

He handed you the bottle of lube and you warmed it up in your right hand, coating every finger. With your left hand, you tugged on his wrist, prying the fingers that were deep inside him, out.

"Please, please," he begged.

"It's okay, I'll take care of you," you leaned over, kissing the base of his spine, the pretty dimples he had there. Carmy keened once every finger was out and you soothed his back and waist, appreciating the view from this angle you rarely enjoyed. "Tell me if I'm hurting you," it was an ongoing agreement between you two but it was always nice to remind each other, especially when he was as desperate as this.

"Yes," he panted.

Carefully, you inserted your index and middle fingers, following what he had been doing before - your hands were smaller anyway. The sharp moan he let out was unlike any sound you had ever heard him make and it electrified you down to your toes.

"Holy shit, Carmy," you mumbled.

You were cautious, going slow, knuckle by knuckle, but he thrust back into your hand.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he cursed, and started fucking himself into your fingers, squeezing, his back muscles flexing. "Thank you, thank you."

After a while of that, his rhythm started faltering and that frustrated sound came back, you leaned over and whispered:

"Tell me how you want it."

Carmy exhaled, stopping mid-thrust to recover his breath.

"Can you- shit, fuck- can you move your fingers?"

"Like you do with me?" you asked, remembering the delicious waves his fingers made inside you.

"Exactly like that," he chuckled and leaned back to caress your forearm.

You moved your fingers like he asked, changing the rhythm until it was something Carmy enjoyed. Your wrist cramped, unaccustomed to the motion, and when you shifted and started over, Carmy let out a cry of absolute bliss.

"Oh," you marveled, trying to touch the same spot again.

"Right fucking there, please, please, please..." he begged and you were so happy to give him everything he wanted. Your underwear was soaked with the noises he was making.

"You're doing so good, Carmy," you said.

His hand reached behind to touch you, anything, your thigh, your arm, and squeeze the hell out of it while his asshole clenched around your fingers.

"I'm so close," he fell face forward, his ass up as you kept hitting that same spot. "Feels so good."

Some primal part of you awoke, and you leaned forward to grab his hair and pull on it, not too hard, just enough to push him over the edge.

"Jesus, fuck, holy shit," he said, followed by some unintelligible noises that were probably curses too, and he came hard - shaking and panting.

You smiled, keeping your fingers in there and moving until he asked you to stop. You kissed his dimples again and went inside the bathroom to wash your hands and get some wipes. Gently, you moved Carmy to lie on his side and cleaned his ass, and the mess of cum on his stomach and chest. You laid beside him on the bed, him stark naked and you fully clothed.

"Baby, baby, baby," he mumbled, his eyes glazed and fucked out, caressing your thigh, beckoning you closer so he could kiss you. "Thank you. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Thank you."

You kissed him deeply, passionately, with all the hunger he had made you feel while you fingered him. Then you pressed a chaste peck on his jaw.

"What're you sorry for, Carm?" you asked softly.

"I didn't mean to force you to-"

"You didn't force me. You've never forced me to do anything," you said, carding your fingers through his hair. "I don't think you have it in you, Berzatto," you teased.

He smiled lazily.

"How'd this all come up?" you asked after a while, still caressing his face and hair.

He reached over you to his bedside table and handed you the sex book you had gifted him months and months ago when you first started fucking. The covers were worn in and there were several dog eared pages; one was on prostate stimulation.

"I know you meant it as a joke," he smiled bashfully. "But it got me thinking- And I wanted to try it out myself before saying something," he explained. "Didn't mean to leave you out of it or anything."

You kissed him again, tenderly this time. It was such a vulnerable thing and he was willing to share it with you. You caressed his shoulders and chest.

"So did you like it?" you asked against his lips.

Carmy nodded. "It was fucking fire."

"Well, I thought it was unbelievably hot too, so..." you confessed.

Carmy hummed softly, almost purring as he leaned forward to kiss you. His hands teased at the belt loops of your jeans, inching closer and closer to the button and zipper.

"There's no need, Carm," you whispered; you could tell he was completely wiped out.

"I want to. I want to," he got rid of your jeans and underwear with shaky hands. "I'm just gonna say thank you real quick."

He went down your body and placed himself between your thighs, hoisting your legs over his shoulders.

"Oh, you really thought it was hot," he gasped, the proof of it glistening right in front of him.

"I wouldn't lie about that," you chuckled, already bucking your hips at the feeling of his breath on your skin.

"Good," he said.

He closed his eyes as he licked and sucked and kissed you, giddy and glowing from his orgasm. You let go, enjoying all of it, caressing his face and feeling the tight knot of anticipation in you unravel fast. You came with a sigh, gently grinding on his nose, feeling weightless.

Carmy climbed back up, and put his head on his hand. He looked at you.

"What is it?" you asked, smiling.

"Would you-" he turned away for a moment, embarrassed. "Would you ever consider- uh- fucking me?"

Your heart skipped a beat and you could feel the fire in your lower belly reigniting.

"I'll definitely think about it, Carm."

You knocked on the backdoor to the restaurant and Richie opened it, backpack in tow.

"Hey, there," he greeted you, kissing your cheek, and let you in. "Mr OCD is almost done with his deep clean."

The kitchen was almost empty. Syd was picking up her stuff - with a smile and a roll of her eyes she pointed to where Carmy was, kneeling and scrubbing.

You had seen him clean the floor before, except now finding him on his knees reminded you of a few nights before when he was on all fours, keening with every move your fingers made, arching his back...

"Oh, hey," he looked up and smiled at you. "Why are you here? You okay?"

"Yeah," you said, trying to hide the blush on your face with your scarf. "You said you'd meet me like half an hour ago, is all."

Carmy tilted his head and furrowed his eyebrows.

"That can't be right," he turned to the clock. "Shit. Syd's still here?"

"She just left."

"I'm sorry, lost track of time," he got up and started picking everything up.

Once every light was off, you stood there in the doorway waiting for him. He had to scoot close to you to get through; your eyes wandered over his body.

"What?" he chuckled.

"Just thinking about how good you look on your knees," you flirted.

He laughed and kissed you hungrily against the doorframe.

"I'll do it. I'll fuck you whenever you want," you said, your cold hands finding the skin of his waist. "I mean it."

He ground against you, humming with pleasure.

"Fuck," his voice was hoarse. "Next week okay?"

"Next week works for me," you said playfully before licking his lower lip.

He kissed you one last time before he pulled away to lock the door. You shivered a little in the Chicago cold and Carmy put an arm around you.

Carmy guided you to stand by the bed; he sat in front of you, caressing the side of your hips and thighs, something adoring in his gaze.

"You sure?" he asked.

"Yeah," you replied, your voice breathy with nerves and need.

"Okay."

He placed a kiss in the valley between your breasts, inhaling you deep, and then leaned sideways to retrieve the harness from his bedside table. He secured the strap on carefully to your hips. You watched him work, the way his hands moved over and around you, the way his eyes lit up when he looked up at you. You cupped his face.

"And you? You sure?" your thumb circled his cheekbone.

He smiled and kissed your palm. "Yeah."

You finally took your eyes off of him and glanced at the dildo. Carmy had chosen it. It was on the shorter and slimmer side, which was a relief in a way - the last thing you wanted to do was hurt him in the heat of the moment. You touched the side of it experimentally.

"All good?" he asked, tilting his head.

"A little weird," you replied honestly. You took a step further between his legs, your nails scratching gently at his muscled back. "Want to make you feel good so bad," you said in a raspy voice.

"Fuck," Carmy groaned when you pushed him gently to lay on the bed.

"On your hands and knees," you told him, the thrill of anticipation made you feel less self conscious about taking control.

He rushed to obey, turning his back towards you, letting you see the butt plug he had placed inside himself before you came home. He was nervous about stretching himself in front of you, he had said.

"Let me know if I can help next time," you said softly, one hand soothing the small of his back and the other holding a bottle of lube. "I mean if you- If we like it, you know?"

"Next time," he agreed, his voice breathy. "Didn't want to blow my load before you even put the strap on is all."

You giggled. "It would have been kinda hot." He huffed in response.

Your hands settled on his waist, bracing as you kneeled on the bed behind him.

You poured a huge amount of lube on your hand, letting a dollop of it fall on Carmy's ass, making him hiss a little from the cold, while you covered the dildo in it.

You tugged on the butt plug, a mess of lube gathering on the base of it already, making it glide right out as Carmy made a drawn out, low sound.

"Fuck," you whispered, heart hammering inside your chest. You lined up the dildo. "Slow at first, okay?"

"Yes, please, just- please," he begged and you knew the harness would need some serious washing once you were done with how turned on you were getting. It was everything: Carmy's pleading voice, his back muscles flexing, the excitement of making him feel good, the nervousness of trying something entirely new...

You pushed inside him.

"Oh, fuck," he said in a hoarse voice. You could see his legs trembling as he contained the impulse of leaning back on you too quick. You moved gently, carefully, inch by inch until you bottomed out. "Fuck, yes!" he let out.

You stayed still for a while, letting him get accustomed to the stretch, listening to him breathe deep, something like a growl trapped in the back of his throat.

"Okay?" you asked caressing his sides, from his waist up to his ribs and back, soft skin scribbled with ink.

"Yeah," he sighed. "You can move now."

You leaned back and forth, holding his waist. He only hummed softly - it wasn't good, not yet. You tried shifting a little to find a less awkward position.

"You make this look so easy," you complained after a while, struggling to get comfortable.

Carmy laughed and you joined him.

"You showed me what to do," he said, reaching behind to touch your hand reassuringly. "But some of it was- I don't know- instinct I guess..."

And you knew what he meant. There came a moment in sex where something took over, when your hips moved with a will of their own.

"Hey. It's okay," he reassured you. "Pretty sure that if you just stayed there and talked dirty for a minute I would still come."

You giggled and the vibrations made Carmy moan a little, that delicious sound you loved so much. You had to at least try.

"Mind if we change it up a little?" you leaned over to place a kiss on his spine. "You on your back so I can see you?"

"Yeah, yeah. That sounds- yeah," he agreed breathily.

With you between his open legs, it wasn't all that different from when you were riding him. You could see Carmy close his eyes in pleasure as you finally found a rhythm.

"Fucking- that's so good, so fucking good, baby," he said and the praise went right down to your pussy, the mere friction of the harness making you moan in unison with Carmy. One of your hands gripped the mattress while the other held tight to his side, that bit of skin between the V of his stomach and his hip. He was sweating and heaving underneath you.

"Fuck. You look so fucking hot, Carm, holy shit," you blurted out. It made him smile and reach for your hand. His touch was gentle, grateful, even as he let out a growl from deep inside his chest.

You shifted your hips a little, trying to keep the strap on in place and Carmy exhaled shakily.

"Right there," he squeezed your wrist. "Right fucking there. Please, please, please..."

"I got you, Carm, I got you,"

You kept hitting that spot until he was writhing on the bedsheets, reaching for the edge of the bed, and arching his back. There were tears in the corners of his eyes.

"Please keep going," he whined.

You scratched his skin, the sinful sounds you two were making spurring you on.

"Look at you! You're wonderful, you're perfect, Carm."

"Fuck you," he said without bite. He was meeting your thrusts desperately. "You can't say shit like that when I'm so close."

"Oh, I think it's the perfect moment to say shit like that," you replied, fucking him faster, whispering sweet nothings between each thrust: "You're gorgeous. And you're being so good, Carm, so good..."

"I- I'm-" was all he could say before he came with a long groan - hands in his hair, neck arched, veins pulsing.

If the sounds he was making were any indication, he was coming harder than he ever had, and the thought made you shiver with satisfaction. You stopped moving and he exhaled heavily.

"What the fuck was that?" he was panting and smiling, sweaty like he had run for miles.

You caressed his thighs, your eyes wandering over his chest and stomach, and the trail of dark hair that went down his navel - all covered with cum.

"Good?" you asked with a proud grin.

"I think I died for a minute there, baby," he said like it was the highest praise. And maybe it was.

"I'm going to pull out, get you cleaned up," you said softly after a couple of minutes. He nodded dreamily, letting out a grunt once the dildo was out.

You were thorough and gentle, kissing and caressing as you wiped his skin with a wet cloth. It took a little while with how messy you had been with the lube situation and how hard Carmy had come.

"Look," he gestured at the scratches you left on his hip, bright red lines on pale skin.

"Shit, sorry" you leaned over to kiss them too. "Does it hurt?"

"A little. I kinda dig it though," he said with a smirk. "Might get a tattoo there later," he teased, and you had to silence a needy, embarrassing sound.

You climbed up his body and kissed him, all tongue and fervor, your fingers buried deep in his curls. You had taken the harness off and arousal was wetting the inside of your thigh.

"Please tell me we'll do this again," you said against his lips.

"You liked it too?" he asked, a little surprised.

"I'm fucking soaked, Carm," you confessed, too tired to try to be delicate about it. "Loved making you feel that good, cum that hard..."

He hummed contentedly, tracing lines on your back with his fingers. "Any notes?"

"I might have to use a toy when we're done next time but other than that, no," you said honestly.

"Not now?" he asked, frowning.

Before Carmy, you were okay with going to bed frustrated, or rubbing your clit furiously in the bathroom to get a quick orgasm after some mediocre sex. This wasn't that. It was fucking great sex. However-

"I don't want to move," you replied, snuggling closer to Carmy's side.

"Oh, I get that," he chuckled; it was a weary sound, he was struggling to stay awake.

You felt so warm and comfortable. You didn’t want to break the lovely snowglobe of tenderness you were both in to grab a fucking toy from the drawer.

After a moment of thought, Carmy angled one of his legs in your direction, his muscular thigh now between your own. He nudged upwards, smearing your arousal on his own skin, silently proposing a solution to your problem.

"Can I-?" you asked anyway, your hips moving forwards, a shaky exhale leaving your lips when your clit touched his skin.

"Mhmm," he nodded, capturing your lips in a kiss, drowning your moans as you started riding his thigh in earnest.

You were so worked up it didn't take long, a few frantic thrusts and you were shaking and rolling your eyes.

"Carm," you gasped, and he held you through it, one hand on the small of your back and the other caressing your face. His half lidded eyes stared as you finally came, shivering in his hold.

"Thank you," he whispered between kisses. "I mean it. You were- It was everything."

You smiled groggily.

"I loved it. I loved it, Carm," you repeated. "I love you," you managed to say before falling asleep, safe in his arms.

@th3h0nkz @faephoria @wadupppp

#anons i hope you enjoy and i apologize because it took me so long to reply but in my defense i think i went absolutely feral with this so #anyway uh #this feels illegal #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x you #carmy x you #carmy berzatto smut

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blindmagdalena · 6 months

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I’m in dire need of angst. How do you think he would react to someone who didn’t have a close relationship with their parents? I’m just imagining an awkward Christmas dinner, their family totally sucking up to Homelander. But also not-so-subtlety making passive agressive/snarky comments towards the reader.

It was definitely his idea to go to Christmas dinner in the first place. You've been dreading it. He insisted, though. You don't want to deny him this when he doesn't even have a family, and he's clearly so excited by the prospect of it.

And to be fair, it started off well enough. Your family was so excited to meet Homelander. They couldn't believe this was really happening!

It didn't last long, though. Your dad just had to make an offhanded remark about how you sure were "dating up."

That was the beginning of the end.

Through the night, Homelander grows gradually less boisterous. He's talking less, listening more. You're uncomfortable, dejected, but ultimately you knew it would end up this way. You just wish he would have listened to you.

By the time dinner rolls around, the tension in the air is palpable. Homelander has stopped preening under the praises of your family. You want nothing more than to eat and leave.

The final straw is when your mother sneaks in a snipe about how you "Really could have dressed up for the occasion."

"Well, Sheryl," Homelander begins, his tone immediately catching the attention of the entire table. "You could have tasted the mashed potatoes before you salted them into an inedible sodium fuckfest, but hey, I guess that's beyond your scope of competence."

The silence is deafening.

He isn't done. "God, y'know. You people. You had one job. All you had to do was be good. Nice. Shovel some food into your face and not be total fucking pricks at every available moment, but y'couldn't even manage that. Y'had to air out eeevery single little nitpick and grievance that sprang into your circus peanut brains."

You're stunned, jaw hanging. Your mother's expression mirrors yours. With a noise of indignation, your father begins to stand.

"Sit the fuck down, Henry," Homelander snaps with a flare of crimson to his gaze that puts a shiver down your spine. It works. Your father sits, and the light fades away. "Now that's the smartest thing you've done all night. Didn't think you had it in you."

Homelander pushes his mostly full plate away and sighs, picking up the napkin from his lap to fold. "I was the one who asked to come here, y'know. Practically begged. Thought Christmas might just be a grand ol' time. Do you know how often I'm wrong? I'll give you a hint: it's not often. But you..." He wags his finger between them, smiling more maliciously than you've ever seen him. "You folks really got me tonight."

He stands up. Your heart is pounding in pure anxious adrenaline. For a moment you have a terrible vision of him leaving you here, furious with them and you that this wasn't the experience he had been hoping for.

His hand in your face snaps you out of your thoughts. You look up sharply, and see him looking down at you, that wicked expression suddenly much softer. Kind, even with that anger still simmering under the surface. You close your mouth and take his hand, swallowing.

"Lucky for me I already got my Christmas wish, hmm?" He says, offering you a little wink. "You are... perfect," he says, leaning in to press a tender little kiss to your forehead, emphasizing it with a pointed mmmwuah. "No idea how you escaped all that unscathed," he says, nodding his head in your parents' direction. "So, how about you and I blow this popsicle stand and go find a whooole lotta mistletoe to stand under?"

You exhale a breathless little laugh, tears prickling hotly at your eyes, overwhelmed by how thoroughly he came to your defense. "I'd really, really like that."

Glancing over, Homelander offers your parents one last tight, venomous little smile. "Merry Christmas, you miserable fucks."

Which is exactly how he signs every single Christmas card he maliciously sends your parents each year from that day forward.

#homelander x you #homelander x reader #darling anon #ask and you shall receive #my writing #YOU SNEAKY YOU GOT ME WRITING CRIMMAS EARLY #idk if this was particularly angsty but i hope you enjoy anyways haha #wow i'm in a mood for vicious homelander today aren't i???#i haven't answered asks this much in ages hahaha

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aibyoutachi · 7 months

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i humbly request p4dan souyo (perhaps better known as “are you guys a couple?” souyo)

waaait a sec... are you two a couple?

#my art #answered ask #sorry its a little messy anon! i hope you enjoy anyways ;w;#i liked this pose but no matter how many times i tried to line it #it came out wrong #so i just cleaned up the sketch #i recently finished p4d and the souyo was very fun

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preseriesdean · 1 year

Photo

#spnedit #samdeanedit #*#*r #it's like a religion; it's terrifying #always you and me #soulmates 💕#to anon who asked for something in all white; this Barely counts but i hope you like it anyway!!#i'm getting back into collaging which is making all my brain synapses fire in the best ways and i might post a couple here #i am enjoying it #let me know if i should tag this as wincest or not because i can't tell #*fav

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internetdruid · 8 months

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Evening, ladies

#🪴#im remaking this blog. if you havent noticed #i felt awkward making a big text post about it so im just keeping it condensed in the tags #but anyway all the tofupupper posts are over on @tofupupper as an archive #for anyone that wants it #im probably gonna be posting about animals and botany here.. bc its what i enjoy right now #i used to really enjoy tofupuppers content but things got rough during the pandemic #and i was in a bad place. and i was just constantly getting anons from people venting to me #or talking about their mental health and im just so bad at comforting and constantly seeing #people tell me they want to die and such on my fan blog for a shiba inu was just so stressful #even though i havent posted tofu content since 2021 i still got messages like that now and then. 700 messages in my askbox rn #but anyway #im better now and i hope everyone is too #and i will still be rbing donation posts at peoples request here #i just felt awkward rbing them to a blog i didnt use otherwise #so. yeah!. wildlife biology and plants now. maybe other stuff #you dont have to stick around if thats not your thing #goodbye for now

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loosingmoreletters · 9 months

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Oooo for a prompt: Jiang Cheng raises a-Yuan thinking he’s actually Wei Wuxian’s biological child

Anon, you really said “I will cater to Letter’s interests” with this ask.

When Jiang Cheng finds the boy, he’s still grieving. He hasn’t stopped grieving since they received the first terrible news of Jin Zixuan’s demise. He grieves, he rages, he cries and carries on. A circle reminiscent of the schedule followed by a boy burned out by loss.

He grieves when he pulls a-Yuan from the ash. The child is barely breathing, malnourished too, wrapped in an adult’s cloak.

Wei Wuxian, he thinks, and presses the boy close to his neck, hides his face when he hurries down a troubled path where his most trusted disciples wait. They do not question him, they ask nothing at all but how quickly they need to return home.

Fast, is his reply. He’s seventeen again, running across the countryside on bloody feet to get his brother home. He saved Wei Wuxian then, he saves a-Yuan now.

The healer asks him how old the child is and Jiang Cheng has no answer for her. He’s so very small, sleeping off his fever under her care. She thinks he is around two, perhaps a little younger, but they have no way of knowing. Everyone who would, is dead.

Like the rest of Jiang Cheng’s family, all of them, but Jin Ling. His nephew is a healthy baby, chubby fat and dressed in only the softest of silks. He’s loud too, crying out for parents he doesn’t have anymore, in everything but this, the exact opposite of a-Yuan.

Jiang Cheng hadn’t questioned a-Yuan’s presence in the Burial Mounds the first time round, too caught up in all his other anger. Maybe he should’ve stopped fighting with his brother to ask. Why would Wei Wuxian give everything up for the Wen if the Wen wasn’t his?

The following weeks agree with him. A-Yuan grows into Wei Wuxian’s smile, no longer asks for the dead as his memories disappear. Jiang Cheng wonders if his brows resemble Wen Chao, Wen Qing or her brother, any of them. Jiang Cheng has no clear memory of them he cared to keep, but he knows Wei Wuxian, hears him in the way a-Yuan phrases his question.

He knows his brother’s child.

Perhaps the other parent doesn’t matter, maybe the story there is as sad and terrible as every other.

His sister and her husband are dead, his brother is gone, his nephews are orphans both.

Jiang Cheng is tired of losing family.

The clan registry burned when the Wen attacked them. Jiang Yanli painstakingly wrote a new one when they rebuilt. He stares at her handwriting as he adds a-Yuan’s name to it. No one will ever look at this document, see that his sister put Wei Wuxian down as their brother, see that Jiang Cheng never struck him from the books, that he adds his son.

The Yiling Patriarch is dead, his legacy is cruel and terrible and it perished in the Burial Mounds.

A-Yuan is here.

The maids call him Jiang-gongzi, Xiao Yuan, Yuan-er, and a hundred different little endearments they’re quick to adapt for Jin Ling too when Jiang Cheng is allowed to take him to Lotus Pier.

A-Yuan loves his little cousin, and maybe if Jiang Cheng raises them together like this from the start just right, they’ll never break apart.

Only a handful of disciples know just where Jiang Cheng picked his nephew up, everyone else believes him a deceased cousin’s son.

It is for the best.

There’s no place in the world for Wei Wuxian’s son after all, none at all, unless he remains Jiang Cheng’s nephew first.

#mdzs #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #lan sizhui #mdzs fanfic #fanfic #ask #anon #who does jc assume the other parent is??? i leave it up to interpretation #tho it WOULD be incredibly funny if like 5 years down the line #he meets lwj briefly and has a ‘wait a second. I know that nose’ moment #but most likely JC assumes sth Very Sad #depending on how you gender your WWX it’s VERY sad #anyway wwx gets resurrected and meets Jin Ling and aYuan night hunting and has Very Many Emotions #anyhow I hope you enjoyed this!

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little-pup-pip · 4 months

Note

Hello!!! Can I request a moodboard that’s gender neutral, corvid/shrike birds/nature themed? With Paci please 🥺 Thank you thank you

Here you go!!

#birds #!!!#it's so hard to find nature themed pacifiers for some reason #idk #i tried anon #anyway i hope you enjoy!#sfw interaction only #moodboard #sfw agere #age regression #agere #sfw littlespace #agere moodboard #babyre #baby regression #age dreaming #bird moodboard #shrike #corvid

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bookishtheaterlover7 · 4 months

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Before I disappear for a bit, in order to finish something I've been working on for months and am REALLY passiona about, it's time for one of my favorite things to do... DEBUNK AND EXPOSE AB, and by extension, her relationship with Chris too!!! 🤭

Last chance for you haters of mine to leave before ugly words come out to the surface...

Alright, let's begin!

We all unfortunately saw this photo, right?

Well, without fail, albabaptistastylefiles uploaded and brokendown her outfit, just like pap walk 2.0... let's not forget the time that they somehow knew what exactly was the red dress that she was wearing, based off of two inches of it peaking out...🤔

No surprise that this time, she was able to identify, and credit ALL outfit pieces...

Quick question,how did they know that that is really AB's purse?! You can't even see the actual purse, just the strap. Unless it's a very one-of-a-kind purse (which I doubt) that she and only a select few own, then I'd buy it...

But that purse looks like any other formal purse you could buy at Shein or the mall... 🤭

You may think I've forgotten about her main outfit... I most certainly haven't, and neither has the GP...

Unoriginal, with a dash of Cultural Appropriation... Wow, AB, you've really outdone yourself.

And before any of y'all deny or try to talk your way out... Here's a little bit of receipts for you 😉

🤭

Anyway, I'm done talking about her what she is wearing, and I'm almost done. So, let's go to the photo. Or rather A photo, that was uploaded to Vogue and then was suspiciously deleted... I'mma let y'all read and see for yourself.

Strange... If you were really there, at the after party, and happier than ever, dressed to the nines...

Why would your photo be deleted from something as high profile as Vogue? 🤔 Now, that's something I'd love to know 😉😁

Anyway, that's it from me. Just wanted to let out my thoughts and suspicions on the whole GG photo fiasco. Honestly, anything with them is a fiasco 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Thank you, 👸 and 😎 for the photos! 🫶

Hope this pretty much summarized a ton, and revealed certain things, and I'm not even gonna mention how weird Chris looks in the photos, or how sus it is that his hand on AB's back is blurry, or why AB's neck looks like a giraffe's in the missing Vogue pic... That's something for my fellow Fans of the Fandom to question, analyze and voice. 😉

Talk and see you soon! Hopefully when one of my passion projects gets uploaded 🫶❤️😊🤗

#booky reacts #chris evans #chris evans fandom #alba baptista #alba baptista style files #debunking bullshit #Hate anons are on standby right now #y'all really are itching to spew some hate and get deleted or blocked 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣#anyway hope you enjoyed my rant 🫶#booky's rant post

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scarasimping · 11 months

Text

love-avoidant princess

pirate!scaramouche x princess!reader

synopsis: scaramouche’s crew had been planning this heist for years prior, and finally, they dock ship at the most heavily guarded kingdom on this side of the world with only one goal in mind: infiltrate the castle and steal the crown used for the coronation ceremony. The only setback? The princess had already stolen it, so now he has to go through her.

tags: fem!reader, allusions to medieval sexism, you know how that is, mentions of blood like once, alcohol also mentioned a couple times, i believe that’s it for this part!

author’s note: ITS DONE omg, this took way longer than i thought but I guess that’s what happens when i try to throw myself in to writing actual pieces for the first time in three years instead of taking it slow. and it only ended up being 3k words TT but this is not the end, i have way more in mind for these two, this is honestly more like...a prologue of sorts!! hope you all enjoy !! so glad we actually have a plot now instead of me posting random hcs hshshshs also yes, his crew is most of the anemo characters because I said so

word count: 3.63k

One can only see the same garden of flowers so many times before becoming bored of the sight. You have walked through here on so many occasions that you're sure that you could list each plant by its scientific name in the order they appear, from the front of the garden to the back.

So, really, it shouldn't come as a surprise to your retainer when they watch you leave a meeting with a potential suitor halfway through your millionth walk through the garden.

The suitor was confused, calling out to you and running to keep up with your fast-paced steps.

"Princess! Did I do something wrong?" He shouted, but you shook your head, an unimpressed and uncaring look painting your features.

"I apologize for saying this after you made the long journey here, but this simply will not work between us."

And thus, another man was rejected by the unromantic princess.

Known for turning down every suitor imaginable, you had gained the reputation of being entirely against romance. Even though you were clearly not interested, this only made people want you more, and your father, who was eager to get you married off, agreed to let everyone interested in you meet you, as long as they were of high enough standing. This included royalty from other kingdoms, wealthy businessmen, and other government officials or their sons who were your age.

None of them even came close to winning your heart.

It’s not that there was anything wrong with them. To be honest, even you weren’t sure why you were so bored with every man or woman you met. It seemed to be more the life you would lead with them than the suitor themselves that made you gag. No first-born heir of a royal family wants to be married off; they want to have the throne! And if your parents weren’t going to give it to you, then you wouldn’t make it easy for them to send you away.

As you gracefully left the heartbroken businessman behind, the retainer assigned to watch over you hurriedly followed, barely keeping up with your pace.

"Princess, this is the seventh suitor you've met. Please tell me, what is wrong with this one?" he pleaded. In truth, he was scared to report more bad news to the king and queen, but frankly, that was not your problem.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I just do not see myself having a life with him," you replied, staring straight ahead and hoping he would stop following you. After forcing yourself to be nice to these suitors, all you wanted was to lay in bed and nap, or maybe practice your sparring skills with your sword.

"We'll have to tell your father about this," he gave you one last warning, but your mind was already made up.

"I understand, but I'm not altering my decision."

Just as you and your retainer thought, your father was not pleased, going on one of his long-winded rants about how you should get married quickly because it’s “better for the kingdom” and “what a princess should do.” All the while, your mother sat and watched, not saying a word because she knew that she did the same thing when she was your age. It was how your parents met in the first place, after all.

"At this rate, your little brother will have inherited the throne before you're satisfied with a man." The king ends his rant with this statement, huffing angrily as he furrows his thick eyebrows in your direction. There it was, the constant reminder that you, the eldest heir, were not to inherit the throne, which should rightfully be yours, all because your parents favored your younger brother.

However, who would dare question the king? When he makes an order, it is carried out, and what he demands is brought to fruition. So if he says your sibling shall inherit the throne, he will, and when he finally gets fed up with your high standards and simply makes you marry someone of his choosing, you will have to obey. Such is the life of a princess.

With a heavy heart, you bow to your father, asking to be excused. He sighs and waves his hand, allowing you to leave, to which you immediately turn on your heel and pace quickly toward your chambers.

When Scaramouche's crew docked at the pier, they knew the welcome they would be given wasn't going to be a warm one. It never was, wherever they stopped. It was no secret that wherever this ship docked, well-known valuables would soon go missing and trouble would follow, yet no one could prove it was them.

Still, seeing every guard on patrol look at them with a noticeable glare and watch their every move was more than unnerving. All Scaramouche was doing was going for a stroll, after all.

But, so were his crewmates, Kazuha and Heizou, in separate parts of the city. And it's not their fault if they happen to notice which areas are more guarded than others, when the guards switch shifts, or which buildings have the least amount of foot traffic coming in and out of them. It's all coincidental, of course, not on purpose at all.

It's definitely not intentional when Heizou reports that the only guards that step into the tavern are always there to get so drunk after their shift that they won't remember what they say.

And who's to shame Scaramouche if he wants to step in and have a drink or two, and happens to run into a guard who's slurring his words and would have fallen over if he ever tried to stand up in this state?

"And that princess…god! She's so stuck up.." the guard ranted, taking another swig from his pint. Scaramouche listened with faux sympathy to the drunken man in front of him, but he wasn't sure how much more he could take from this man. He too often leaned too close as if whispering a secret, the stench of sweat, metal, and cheap booze radiating off of him.

"That princess! She keeps rejecting every suitor who's interested in her! Do you know who has to deal with the king's fury after she does this? Us!"

He leans in once more, and Scaramouche gets a whiff of his rancid breath "I hear….the king wants her married off to someone wealthy because he's in debt…but she just wants the throne instead! Can you believe it? Too stuck up to let her brother be the heir to the kingdom…."

It seemed all this guard was going to reveal was pointless rants about the king’s only daughter, and today he was not going to get any information that would be helpful to him. After all, if this princess was to be married off, it’s unlikely she would be able to get hold of the crown that was to be used in the coronation ceremony when the prince came of age.

Like an answer from the heavens, his doubts were quickly proven incorrect when the guard’s voice drops to a whisper, and he leans across the table to speak in Scaramouche’s ear.

“I hear…that she got so jealous, she stole the crown. The king says it just got lost, however, we guards know the truth. But what grounds could we present that would warrant a search through the princess’s private quarters? It’s useless…”

And just like that, Scaramouche knew whom he should target.

The captain stands from their booth in the corner, excusing himself. He buys the guard another drink as thanks for the “lovely conversation” and to ensure he really wouldn’t remember the information he spilled.

The next few nights, Scaramouche and other members of his crew alternate between taverns to gather as much information as possible. Each night, a different person hit a different establishment to not raise suspicion. This heist was going to be big, and after it was pulled off they wouldn’t be able to dock for months to avoid being caught and interrogated.

Stealing the crown from the most heavily guarded kingdom on this side of the world was no easy task, but it had been Scaramouche’s dream ever since he started his life of piracy. Something like this would earn them respect like no other on the seven seas but also put a huge target on their back. His crew was prepared, of course, they wouldn’t have docked here if they weren’t. It’s not like they couldn’t fight, either. They were notorious for many reasons: their crimes that left no evidence behind, the sheer intimidation their crew gave off, and the fact that no crew member lost any duel they were challenged to.

After a couple weeks of solely gathering information, Scaramouche’s crew was ready to take things to the next level. They learned that the princess was unable to leave the castle without supervision, which only occurred on rare occasions. She lived a secluded life and many of the kingdom’s citizens didn’t even know her face. His first mate, Kazuha, who was always good with his words, even managed to get one of the guards to reveal which terrace on the castle belonged to the princess’s room and that the staff had recently increased security in the city and outside the castle because of a suspicious ship that had docked at the pier, which lessened the amount of military inside the building.

Kazuha was always better with people than any other crew member, and Scaramouche was forever thankful he was a part of his crew, even if he didn’t show it.

However, it seemed no one was able to learn that the princess provided enough security for herself, not even needing guards.

Scaramouche quickly learned that when he was finally ready to attempt to get inside the castle, scaling the walls during a shift change and approaching the terrace he was informed about prior.

A candle on your bedside and the illumination from the moon were the only sources of light in your quarters at this time of night. Every other member of the royal family was asleep, but not you. Far too frequently would you stay up reading a novel you “borrowed” from the castle’s library, even though books weren’t supposed to leave the area.

All was silent except for the wind blowing outside and the rare footsteps in the hall, metal clashing with each step from the guards’ armor.

Though silent, and easy to miss, a sound from outside your window caught your attention.

Breathing, silent steps getting closer, the scraping of someone climbing the walls and terrace.

You turned, blowing out your candle so that whoever was coming wouldn’t know you were awake. With the time it took for them to reach the glass door that separates your room from the balcony, your eyes had already adjusted to the darkness and you had your sword out from underneath your bed, drawn and ready to be used.

The door cracked open, slowly, and it was obvious that whoever was there was trying to use the element of surprise. They must not know you, considering they thought you wouldn’t discover them. One hand pushes the door open all the way, then pulls the person inside. It was a man with indigo hair and eyes. Everything he wore was black - his boots, high-waisted pants, and tricorn hat, - besides his shirt, which was a white poet shirt with purple and black accents tucked into his pants. Adorned on his hat were feathers that spewed from the back and gems which were sewn on, each one catching the light from the moon. He was obviously a pirate, and based on the whispers from the staff in the castle, he was probably from the ship that docked recently and made everyone nervous. The captain of the guards had even told you to report anything suspicious you happened to see, which told you they were no joke, Normally, if there was a threat, you wouldn’t even be informed. 'No one wanted to worry the princess, of course' is what they would say, but you know they just think you can't handle it.

Before he even has time to process you're there, you point your sword at his throat, the tip pressing against his flesh, but not hard enough to draw blood. Just enough so that he knows he made a mistake.

The pirate stares down at the sword at his neck, his gaze following the blade to its holder; the very princess he intended to come in here and threaten. It's a funny thing how easily the tables can be turned. He eyes the princess warily, one eyebrow raised and an awkward smile on his face, knowing he's been caught so easily.

"Well, isn't this a surprise?" He chuckles to himself, raising his hands up beside his head in a phony sign of surrender, but your sword never wavers.

"What do you think you are doing here?" You demanded, sword to the pirate's throat. The captain remained silent, weighing his options. He could try to talk his way out of this or use his cunning tactics to somehow overpower the princess and make a break for it. Whatever decision he made, it could mean the difference between life and death.

"Sure, as soon as you put that sword down. I'd rather have a conversation than an encounter between your blade and my jugular if you don't mind," he reasons, staring right back into your eyes with a look that screams mischief. Still, you sigh, and lower your sword, taking a step back and never loosening your grip on its handle.

"Speak."

He chuckles, lowering his hands and letting a cocky smile spread across his face.

"You see, princess, there's a rumor going around that you've stolen and hidden the coronation crown. I'm here to simply…take it off your hands," he explains. Everything about him seems sly, and even though it seems he's at a disadvantage, he's acting like he has the upper hand. There's not an ounce of fear on his face.

Your hold on your sword is steady, ready for combat at any moment, and it seems he's thinking the same thing.

"I'm afraid I can't allow you to do so. I can, however, offer you a deal. Leave now and I won't report your attempt to rob the royal castle and have you thrown in prison."

The pirate shrugs and sighs, his hand reaching for the sword that hung from his belt.

"Oh well, looks like there's no other way."

And with that, he draws his sword from its scabbard, a sleek, steel sword with a curved blade, and lunges forward, dealing the first strike. Blades clash and the sound of metal on metal echoes throughout the room as you parry his sword, pushing him back further. He doesn't let up, dealing strike after strike, yet landing no hits nonetheless.

While the pirate’s blows are strong and aggressive, his attacks powerful and relentless, yours are both quick and agile with fast and precise strikes.

He expected the princess to be less of a hassle, yet here you were, not only putting up a good fight but winning too. Similar to him, there wasn't even a hint of sweat dripping from your brow, no signs of exhaustion as you dueled him in just your nightgown and slippers.

Your sword comes down once more towards his chest, and he raises his own to block it when suddenly you change your direction and aim to land a hit on his arm instead.

Ever quick on his feet, the pirate steps out of the way, dodging an almost fatal attack, but not before your blade can tear through his shirt and leave the faintest wound on the flesh of his shoulder.

He hisses as he feels the sting of his skin splitting, looking down as red stains the sleeve of his shirt.

"Not bad," he mumbles, his eyes sharp as he glares at the princess, a cocky smirk adorning his face. "Haven't struggled this much with an opponent in a while."

"Likewise," you muse, tightening your grip on your handle as you raise your eyebrows, almost taunting him.

"Tell me, pirate, what is your name? I want to know what to call my attacker before I slice your throat."

He chuckles, rolling his wounded shoulder back and getting into a better position to keep fighting.

"Oh, I don't believe you really could. Wouldn't want to get your pretty hands dirty after all." He, once again, swings his sword, but to no avail. You continue trading blows with him, barely giving each other a chance to breathe. No matter what he tries, he can't seem to get the upper hand. Mentally, he wants to blame it on the fact that he was caught off guard, or that the way the silk of her nightgown hugs her body when she twists and turns to use her sword is distracting, but really he knows he's just finally met a well-matched opponent.

"But the name's Scaramouche, consider this knowledge a gift before I beat you at the game of swords.”

It was then that the sound of armored footsteps approaching rapidly caught both Scaramouche and the princess’s attention. You bite back a laugh, glancing at the door and then back to the pirate in front of you.

“Looks like that will have to wait, Scaramouche.”

His name spilled from your lips easier than you’d like to admit, sounding almost natural when it came from you. Scaramouche noticed this too, stiffening as you say it and running his tongue along his cheek. It was annoying whenever he found himself having to make an enemy of an attractive woman. He takes one last look at the princess, before stepping away towards the glass door he came in through. He keeps his sword pointed at you as he backs away, not taking any chances.

“This was lovely, princess. I’ll be seeing you again very soon, but for now, I bid you adieu,” He takes his hat off, bending his arm at his waist and bowing overdramatically before opening the door and launching himself over the fence of the terrace, disappearing into the night.

As the footsteps get closer, you kick your sword under the bed, praying it wasn’t damaged, and toss yourself onto your mattress, throwing the covers over your body just in time for the door to swing open. A few guards peer inside, seeing nothing but you sleeping soundly in, your back turned to them as your body rises and falls to the rhythm of your breathing. There was no sign a fight had even occurred, despite the noises that multiple knights had heard coming from here.

As they close the door, the sound of their footsteps moving away from your room, a giddy smile creeps onto your face. After all, if no fight happened in their eyes, there would be no reason to increase security and you could see that intriguing pirate again.

After Scaramouche escapes down the castle walls, he books it for the treeline that separated the castle from the ocean. It was just past there that his ship resided, where his crew was eagerly awaiting his return with good news. A sinking feeling resides over him whilst he runs through the trees, kicking up dirt and leaves with every step. There is no reasoning he could possibly give that would excuse his failure. Not when he knows it’s caused by his own faults as a man. He, just like all of her numerous suitors and admirers, simply got distracted by her appearance. At some point, he had to stop as his head became too muddled by his thoughts, leaning against a tree, taking a deep breath, and trying to calm his thoughts.

Before, when hearing about rumors of the princess and all of the men interested in marrying her, he assumed the stories all came with a tinge of exaggeration.

Yet, after seeing her and fighting with her, he knows each metaphor and story told of her had to have been nothing but the truth. Tales of her beauty were honestly an understatement. It’s not often he finds himself this distracted by a woman, especially a princess, and he can’t help but feel ashamed in a way. He just failed to execute the plan his crew had been working on for years prior to docking it this kingdom, but all he can think about is her smile when she taunted him, her confidence because she knew she could fight, or the way her nightgown revealed the shape of her body, expensive silk clinging to every curve of her flesh. She was a princess rarely even seen by the public, but he got to see her in such a private setting, and god was it worth it.

He starts running again, her face in mind doubts infecting his every thought. His heart pounds heavily in his chest, and his lungs burn with each breath, but he doesn’t stop running. He would much rather face his crew than the entire royal army. He was sure the princess had reported what had happened by now, and he didn’t want to stick around so they could remember his face.

As he runs, he starts to feel the ocean breeze brushing along his face, and it reminds him that he’s almost home. His crew is smart; they’ll be able to come up with a new plan together. Maybe next time they’ll send a different member of the crew.

As soon as the thought of someone else seeing her like that enters his mind, he quickly shoos it away.

Just for now, he’d like to keep the image of her to himself.

taglist: @danfelions @bleachisfood @klanxii @nillajhayne @call-me-nayo @pinkiepiescanonn @etherisy @kazuuhhaaaa @featuredtofu @ulquiorraswife @skyoverkill1 @wandererskitten @lxkeeeee

#omg first part is done #WE HAVE A PLOT FINALLY #pretty sure the anon i said guessed most of the plot has a pretty good idea what they got correct now #but anyways !!#there will definitely be more parts #i just didnt want to keep you all waiting for so long #hope you enjoyed !!#pirate!scara #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche au #wanderer #wanderer x reader #wanderer genshin #wanderer au #genshin au #gonna go take a 13 hour nap now

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