#He has such delicious delights to share with you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pucksandpower · 18 days

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Lover

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: the little (and not so little) ways that you and Charles show your love for each other

You’re in the kitchen, phone pressed to your ear as you listen intently to Charles’ mother give you her famous tiramisu recipe step-by-step. “Now, this next part is very important,” she stresses. “You’ll need one cup of granulated sugar to add to the mascarpone filling.”

“Got it, one cup sugar for the filling,” you confirm.

Pascale chuckles warmly. “I’m so glad Charles has found such a lovely girl who wants to learn my recipes. He’s always loved my tiramisu since he was a little boy.”

You smile, touched by her kind words. You and Charles have been together for a year now, but it still makes your heart flutter to be so accepted into his close-knit family.

“It means so much to me that you’re sharing this recipe with me,” you tell Pascale sincerely.

You chat with her a while longer, going over some of the trickier steps and getting tips on how to best soak the ladyfingers. Finally, you have the full recipe memorized and are ready to give it a try.

“Okay, I think I’ve got it now. Thank you so much again, Pascale! I really appreciate you taking the time to walk me through this.”

“Of course, chère! Let me know how it turns out. Charles is a lucky man to have such a thoughtful girlfriend,” Pascale says warmly before hanging up.

You grin, eager to get started. You know tiramisu is Charles’ absolute favorite dessert and you want to surprise him with a homemade version tonight after he finally comes back from his latest race.

Humming to yourself, you gather the ingredients — mascarpone, eggs, espresso, cocoa powder, and of course, the sugar. You double check you have everything and preheat the oven so the ladyfingers will be perfect.

As you start the recipe, you feel a rush of excitement. You follow each step meticulously, Pascale’s voice guiding you in your mind. You carefully separate the eggs and beat the whites to stiff peaks. When it’s time to add the sugar to the mascarpone filling, you pause.

Now, which one was the sugar again? You look between the two identical jars of white powder, second-guessing yourself.

Shoot, you should have labeled them.

After a moment of hesitation, you decide on the bowl on the left. Yes, that must be sugar, you reassure yourself. You mix it into the silky mascarpone filling until it’s perfectly combined. Once assembled, you spread the filling over the ladyfingers and cover it with a final dusting of cocoa powder.

It looks absolutely beautiful. You did it! You made Charles’ favorite dessert completely from scratch. You can’t wait to see the look on his face when he takes the first delicious bite.

You glance at the clock as you clean up. Charles will be home soon. You carefully store the tiramisu in the fridge to chill until after dinner.

Right on time, you hear Charles’ keys in the lock. You hurry to greet him, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. “I missed you!”

He grins and nuzzles your neck. “And I missed you, ma belle.”

Over dinner on the balcony, Charles tells you all about the race and his ambitious one-stop strategy under the Suzuka cherry blossoms. You listen attentively, asking questions and laughing at his dramatic reenactments.

Finally, it’s time for dessert. “I have a surprise for you,” you say with a playful smile.

Charles’ eyes light up. “Oh really? Do tell!”

You bring the chilled tiramisu to the table, along with two small plates and forks. “Ta-da! I made your favorite, with your mom’s secret recipe.”

“No way, you’re kidding!” Charles exclaims. He takes in the layered dessert with delight. “It looks incredible, mon cœur. I can’t believe you did this for me.”

You blush happily as you dish out servings for both of you. “I hope I did it justice. Your mom walked me through the whole thing over the phone.”

Charles takes a big eager bite, closing his eyes as he savors it. “Mmm … it’s absolutely delicious,” he declares after swallowing. “Seriously, this is amazing. Here, you have to try it!”

He holds out a forkful toward you. You accept it into your mouth, immediately bursting into incredulous laughter. “Oh my god, this is so salty! I definitely screwed up somewhere. You don’t have to eat it!”

But Charles just grins and takes another hearty bite. “What do you mean? It tastes perfect to me.”

You stare at him in confusion. “You can’t actually like this, Charles. It’s like I poured the entire salt shaker in by accident.”

“No no, it’s great! The best tiramisu I’ve ever had,” he insists. Seeing your disbelief, he takes your hand from across the table. “Really, Y/N. I love it because you made it just for me. With love. That’s what makes it so special.”

You feel your insides turn soft and melty at his words. “You’re just saying that to be nice,” you protest weakly.

He shakes his head. “I’m saying it because it’s true. Because ...” He pauses, looking into your eyes sincerely. “Because I’m completely in love with you, mon amour. I’d eat a thousand salty tiramisus if it made you smile like this.”

You can’t help the joyful laugh that escapes you. “You’re such a hopeless romantic, you know that?” You tease him.

“Only for you,” he flirts back with a playful wink.

You lean across the table to kiss him tenderly. When you pull back, the adoration shining in his green eyes leaves you breathless.

Maybe he’s right. It doesn’t matter that the tiramisu is an utter fail. All that matters is that you made it with love.

And that’s the sweetest taste of all.

***

It’s been a few weeks since your salty tiramisu mishap. You and Charles laughed about it afterwards, but you were still determined to make him something special with your own two hands.

So you decided to take up crocheting. It was trickier than you expected, but you persevered, watching YouTube tutorials and getting tangled in yarn for hours.

Finally, after a month of work, you’ve produced your first wearable creation — a sweater for Charles.

It’s an oversized style, cream colored with red racing stripes across the chest. You did your best to evenly stitch the rows, but there are gaps in some places that cause the stripes to waver drunkenly.

The sleeves are several inches too long, dangling adorably over Charles’ hands when he tries it on. And the neckline gapes open no matter how he tugs it.

But none of the flaws matter to Charles. His face lights up like a kid on Christmas morning when you present it to him.

“You made this? For me?” He asks as he eagerly pulls it on.

You nod, suddenly shy. “I wanted to make something special for you, even if my skills are still .... developing,” you admit with an embarrassed chuckle.

But Charles is beaming, admiring himself in the mirror. “It’s perfect! Seriously, I love it. This is the best gift ever!”

He engulfs you in a big hug, sleeves flopping over you. You hug him back, relieved and happy he appreciates your efforts.

From that day on, Charles insists on wearing the sweater constantly, even styling it with whatever eclectic pants he decides to wear on race weekends.

You try to discourage him — the holes along the hem are getting bigger from snagging and the neckline is truly unsalvageable.

But Charles won’t hear it. “Are you kidding? This is my new lucky charm!” He declares. “I have to wear it for every race now.”

Sure enough, he starts a winning streak whenever he dons your handmade sweater, even though it’s quite a departure from the fitted shirts and designer hoodies he previously favored, leaving his fans scratching their heads at the sudden change.

You watch in amused endearment as he proudly wears your gift for candid pre-race interviews and photo-ops. The overlong sleeves just make his exuberant gestures even more adorable.

Finally, a reporter works up the courage to ask him about the quirky sweater. “That’s quite a statement piece you have been arriving in each Sunday,” the reporter comments during a press conference. “What made you decide to wear it?”

Charles’ face lights up even more. “My sweater? It was handmade for me by my incredible girlfriend,” he announces, making you blush furiously from the audience.

“She worked so hard on it, even though crocheting is totally new to her. So I wear it to show how much I appreciate her and how talented she is,” he continues sincerely.

The reporters “aww” as Charles shows off the uneven stitches like they’re couture. “It’s my good luck charm now too! She put so much love into making it that I feel like I can’t lose whenever I have it on.”

He looks directly at you, eyes shining. “It’s the best gift I’ve ever received, because she made it just for me. I’m the luckiest man in the world to be with someone so thoughtful and caring.”

You have to wipe away joyful tears at his heartfelt words. You never imagined your clumsy crocheting would come to mean so much to him.

But Charles wears that sweater for every race, no matter how tattered it gets. Because for him, it represents something priceless — your love.

***

You hum along to the radio as you stir the melted chocolate in a bowl. The rich aroma fills the air of your shared apartment. Today is Valentine’s Day and you want to surprise your boyfriend with homemade chocolate-covered strawberries when he gets home from training.

You dip the first plump, red strawberry into the silky chocolate, letting the excess drip off before placing it gently onto a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. One by one, you coat each strawberry, taking care to fully submerge them.

When the tray is full, you quickly pop one glistening strawberry into your mouth and slide the rest into the fridge to let the chocolate harden. As you wait, you tidy up the kitchen, washing the bowls and utensils used to make the treat. A glance at the clock on the microwave tells you Charles will be home soon.

The sound of the front door opening makes you grin. “Mon amour, I’m back!” Charles calls out.

You grab the tray of chocolate-covered strawberries and head towards his voice. “Welcome home! I have a surprise for y-”

You stop short, your throat suddenly feeling scratchy and tight. Your lips tingle oddly.

Confused, you lift a hand to your neck. Is this just excitement to see Charles? But no, your tongue is starting to swell now too. Your breathing becomes labored.

Charles rounds the corner. “Mon ange, what’s wro-” His eyes widen as he takes in your distress. In a few quick strides he is by your side, the tray clattering forgotten to the floor. “What’s happening?”

You wheeze, barely able to force out words. “Can’t … breathe …”

Charles sweeps you into his arms and runs for the front door. “Hospital. Now.”

You cling to him, each ragged breath a struggle. The world seems to blur and tilt alarmingly.

Then somehow you’re in Charles’ car, speeding down the street. One of his hands grips the wheel while the other clutches yours tightly. “Just hold on, stay with me. We’re almost there.”

You try to respond but only manage a choked gurgle. Black spots swim across your vision. A feeling of detachment steals over you.

The car screeches to a stop outside the emergency department entrance. Charles lifts you from the passenger seat, calling for help. There is a flurry of activity as a team of doctors and nurses rushes over with a gurney.

You are barely aware of being wheeled into an exam room, too focused on trying to pull air into your lungs. A mask is fitted over your face, dispensing blessed oxygen. An IV is inserted into your arm.

The medical staff works quickly, asking Charles questions as they begin treatment. Antihistamines. Steroids. Epinephrine. The medications slowly start to counteract your reaction. The vice-like tightness in your chest and throat gradually lessens.

After what feels like an eternity, you are able to take full breaths again. The room comes back into focus, no longer spinning. Charles sits at your bedside, clutching your hand, his handsome face creased with worry.

The doctor examines you, nodding with satisfaction as your symptoms continue to improve. “It appears you had a severe allergic reaction. We’ll run some tests to determine the cause.”

Charles looks stricken. “But how? What could have possibly …” His gaze falls on your swollen lips. “The strawberries,” he whispers.

You nod weakly. It had to have been. You’ve never reacted to them before, but an allergy can develop at any time.

Charles smoothes back your hair, distress pouring off of him. “I’m so sorry, mon cœur. I should have been there with you.”

You squeeze his hand. “You couldn’t have known. I’m okay now thanks to you.”

He just shakes his head, unconvinced.

The testing confirms it — you are now mysteriously allergic to strawberries. The doctor gives you an EpiPen prescription and strict instructions to the fruit in the future.

After several more hours of observation, you are finally discharged from the hospital with an exhausted Charles supporting you.

The sun has long since set on what was supposed to have been a romantic Valentine’s Day. Instead, you spent it swollen and terrified in the ER.

Back home, Charles tucks you into bed, insisting you rest. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror — puffy-faced and red-eyed — and cringe. Some Valentine you turned out to be.

You reach for Charles’ hand again. “I’m so sorry I ruined our evening. I wanted it to be perfect but instead I ended up scaring you half to death and forcing you to rush me to the hospital.”

Charles silences you with a gentle kiss. “Not another word, mon amour. You have nothing to apologize for. All that matters is that you are safe.”

He caresses your cheek, looking at you with such love and tenderness it makes your heart ache. “You could never ruin anything. You are the light of my life — my everything. No Valentine’s Day is complete without you.”

You feel yourself tearing up. Even after the ordeal of this evening, he still looks at you like you hung the moon.

“You’re still the most beautiful Valentine I’ve ever had, you know that? A little swelling can’t hide that.” Charles brushes away your tears and pulls you close. “Rest now. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

You nestle into his embrace, letting his warmth and steady heartbeat soothe you. As you drift off, you can’t help but marvel at how lucky you are to have this man. Even at your puffiest and most distressed, he thinks you’re beautiful.

No matter what surprises life throws at you, with Charles by your side you know everything will be okay. He loves you unconditionally — swollen lips, hospital visits, and all.

***

“Close your eyes,” you say to Charles as you lead him into the living room.

He laughs and covers his eyes with his hands. “What are you up to, mon amour?”

You grin, though he cannot see it. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

You guide him across the room, hands on his shoulders. He shuffles along, peeking through his fingers.

“No peeking!” You scold, and he squeezes his eyes shut again, smiling.

You position him in front of the coffee table. “Okay,” you say. “You can open your eyes now.”

Charles drops his hands. On the table sits a large gift-wrapped box with a massive red bow on top. His eyes go wide with surprise and delight.

“For me?”

You nod, bouncing on your toes excitedly. “Happy birthday!”

He pulls you into a tight hug. “You are too good to me, ma belle. Thank you.” Leaning down, he captures your lips in a sweet kiss.

You swat his shoulder playfully. “You don’t even know what it is yet! Open it.”

Charles grins and turns his attention to the present. He carefully unties the bow and lifts the lid on the box. Inside sits a sleek red bomber jacket with the Ferrari logo embroidered on the chest. He runs his fingers over the leather appreciatively.

“This is beautiful,” he murmurs.

“Look on the back,” you prompt.

Charles turns the jacket over. Across the back, in bold white letters, it reads: DADDY.

His eyes go wide again, and for a moment he just stands there gaping at the jacket. Then his eyes roll back in his head and he collapses to the floor in a dead faint.

“Charles!” You rush to his side, kneeling next to him on the plush carpet. Gently you pat his cheek, trying to rouse him. “Charles, wake up!”

After a few tense moments, his eyelashes begin to flutter. You breathe a sigh of relief as he opens his eyes.

“Wha … what happened?” He mumbles.

“You fainted, silly.”

You help him sit up slowly. He puts a hand to his head, still looking dazed.

“I had the strangest dream …” He trails off, glancing around the room. His gaze lands on the jacket lying nearby, and his eyes widen again.

“It wasn’t a dream,” you say softly.

Charles looks at you, lips parted in shock. “Then you … you’re …”

You furrow your brow in confusion. “I’m what?”

“Pregnant!” He exclaims. “We’re having a baby!”

Now it’s your turn for your eyes to go wide. “What? No! I’m not pregnant!”

Charles frowns, thoroughly bewildered. “But the jacket said … I thought it was your way of telling me we’re expecting.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Oh my goodness, no. The jacket is for a very different reason.”

He looks almost disappointed. “It is?”

You take his hands in yours. “I know you’ve been talking about getting a dog for months now, ever since you met Mimi.”

Comprehension begins to dawn on Charles’s face. “So the jacket …”

“Is for our new puppy!” You finish excitedly.

Charles’ face lights up. “You got me a dog? Really?”

You nod, grinning. “Really! I picked him up yesterday from the shelter. He’s the cutest little dachshund, white with brown spots. I’ve been keeping him at your brother’s so I could surprise you today.”

Charles whoops and tackles you in another ecstatic hug. You laugh as he covers your face in rapid, smacking kisses.

“This is the best birthday surprise ever!” He crows. “I can’t believe we’re finally getting a dog. And the jacket — it’s perfect!”

He grabs the bomber and shrugs it on over his t-shirt. It fits him flawlessly, the white lettering bold against the red.

Charles scrambles to his feet and rushes to the nearest mirror, twisting this way and that to admire himself. “I love it! Thank you, thank you!”

You stand and wrap your arms around him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I’m so glad. But you should really be thanking your new baby boy.”

Charles turns in your arms and cups your face in his hands. “Have I told you lately that you’re the best girlfriend in the world?”

You grin up at him. “Hmm, I don’t recall. Feel free to remind me.”

“You …” He punctuates each word with a kiss. “Are …” kiss “The …” kiss “Most …” kiss “Thoughtful …” kiss “Loving …” kiss “Girlfriend …” kiss “In …” kiss “The …” kiss “World.”

You pretend to swoon. “My, what a sweet talker you are.”

He chuckles and kisses you tenderly. When you break apart, his eyes are shining.

“So when do I get to meet our new baby?” He asks eagerly.

“Right now, if you want,” you say. “We can go pick him up from Lorenzo.”

Charles pumps a fist in the air. “Yes! I’m going to be the best dog dad ever, just you wait and see.” He crouches down and coos, “Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy?”

You pat his head playfully. “You’re a good boy.”

Taking your hand, he practically drags you out the door, babbling excitedly about names, beds, toys, and treats for the puppy the whole way to the car. Your heart swells watching his enthusiasm. You know that dog is going to be the most loved and cared for pup in the world.

When you arrive at his brother’s apartment, Charles bounds up to the front door ahead of you, unable to contain his excitement. Lorenzo opens it laughing, the wiggling brown and white puppy in his arms.

“Someone’s here to see you!” He says, handing the squirming bundle of fluff to Charles.

“Hello, hello!” Charles cuddles the puppy to his chest, his whole face alight with pure joy. The pup responds by licking every inch of Charles’ face he can reach.

Charles laughs delightedly. “Aren’t you just the sweetest boy? Yes you are!”

He looks up at you, eyes shining. “Thank you, mon cœur. This is the best gift I could have asked for.”

You lean in and scratch the puppy behind his silky ears. “Of course. Happy birthday, my love.”

As you walk back to the car, Charles cradling the puppy like a newborn, you know in your heart that your little family is one step closer to completion.

***

The race weekend after Charles’ birthday feels strange. As you wander through the Ferrari garage during free practice, Fred rushes over looking concerned.

“Here, take a seat,” the team principal says, grabbing a folding chair and positioning it behind you. “You should not be on your feet so much in your condition.”

You frown in confusion. “What condition?”

But the French man has already hurried away. Shaking your head, you continue walking. It’s a few minutes later that you spot Pierre.

“Hey!” He says, jogging up to you. Before you can react, he places both hands on your stomach and smiles brightly. “Wow, it’s hard to believe that little baby Leclerc is in there! I can’t wait to meet my niece or nephew.”

Now you’re really bewildered. You take a small step back from Pierre’s wandering hands. “What are you talking about? I’m not pregnant!”

Pierre laughs. “Very funny. You don’t have to hide it from me.” He winks and walks away.

When Charles finds you later, you’re still puzzling over the strange encounter.

“Everyone is acting so weird,” you tell him, explaining what’s been happening all day. "It’s like they all think I’m pregnant or something."

Charles frowns. “That is odd. Where would they get that idea?”

You shake your head. “I have no idea …”

Later, after the last practice session of the day, you wander into Ferrari hospitality for a quick cup of coffee. Carlos quickly spots you and makes a beeline over, cheeks flushed with excitement.

“I just saw the photos of Charles wearing his new jacket.” He says. “A mini Leclerc on the way, how wonderful! Congratulations to you both.”

“What? No, there’s no …” you start to protest, but Carlos is already walking away.

Charles comes up beside you, having overheard. “This is getting out of hand,” he mutters. “We need to clear this up.”

“I know!” You say. “I feel bad, they all seem so excited. They must think we’re hiding a pregnancy from them.”

An idea comes to you then. Turning to Charles, you say loudly, “Honey, why don’t we go introduce the baby to everyone? I know they’re all just dying to meet him!”

Charles catches on immediately, smiling slyly. “Of course! Let’s go get our little one right now.”

You nod, linking your arm through his. As you walk away, you hear gasps and murmurs behind you.

“They already had the baby? When did this happen?”

“I can’t believe they’ve been hiding it all this time!”

You have to stifle a laugh. Charles grins and squeezes your hand.

In his driver’s room, your puppy is napping contentedly on a plush dog bed. Charles scoops him up gently so as not to wake him. Cradling the pup, you both head back out to the hospitality suite.

Everyone turns to look at you eagerly as you enter. Carlos steps forward, craning his neck to see the bundle in Charles’ arms.

“Here he is!” You announce proudly. “Our baby boy!”

Charles turns so they can see the sleeping dachshund nestled against his bomber jacket. A shocked silence falls over the room.

“Wha … that’s not a baby!” Carlos splutters. “That’s a dog!”

You and Charles just shrug with matching sly smiles. “He’s our baby.”

As the puppy yawns and stretches in Charles’ arms, licking his chin affectionately, you know with certainty that your furry new addition will be showered with just as much love and adoration as you both share for one another.

Who could ask for anything more?

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blue-jisungs · 11 months

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partner privilege ♡

a/n. ohmigosh it took so long to write you don’t even know <\\3 but phew okay, let’s go! first svt ot13 thingy!!!

┆彡 SEUNGCHEOL [ 승철 ]

being a leader of 12 manchildren isn’t that hard itself; it’s the fact that he also has to deal with managers. with fml being released, soon they have to start working on their next comeback. and they always make decisions in a group, it’s was his personal choice to talk it all through with their manager. cheol struggled in their early days, often afraid that they will see him as a bad leader. after many years and ups and downs together he knew he can count on them but he never shared his worries. but once he’s home, he’ll plop down next to you; head on your lap. it’s quiet at first, the questions in his head trying to make sense. suddenly, words are flooding out of his mouth as you listen carefully. seungcheol opens up, sharing his worries with you. will carats like the next comeback? isn’t the choreography too hard? will he fit the concept? is the budget enough? you soothingly caress his hair and after he’s finished, seungcheol listens to your voice as you word out your point of view.

┆彡 JEONGHAN [ 정한 ]

you don’t notice it at first because well, there’s nothing to notice. you’re having a wonderful time playing with him and his friends, some kind of a tradition whenever they came over. it’s always fun, laughs echoing in the room when minghao loses his sanity (“those are the side effects of not meditating–!”) over vernon who, somehow, gets richer and richer in monopoly. “be right back, i have to pee!” you announced and skipped to the bathroom, your sudden statement catching them off guard. jeonghan looked around and quickly moved his part of money onto your pile. “yah! what’s that?!” hoshi stood up, pointing at him “you’re cheating!”. and that blows up a whole heated debate how come he doesn’t cheat when you’re playing with them… or rather, he’s helping you win the game. only you. and you’re not even aware, most of the time. jeonghan just smiled softly at you when you came back, failing to notice that strangely there’s an additional house on your possession and hoshi is deeply offended.

┆彡 JOSHUA [ 조슈아 ]

no one knows when this habit of his started, really. as a couple, it was normal between you two to share your food. joshua would feed you a bit of his meal during dates or such. but when it came to dining out with his friends, they noticed how he doesn’t even touch his food. the first bite is always saved for you. “y/nnie, try mine!” he hums on delight, moving his plate closer to you. and as you chew on the delicious meal, nodding in approval, joshua’s face lights up with pure joy and admiration. he’s willing to switch meals if you want to, without hesitation. if you don’t like the food however, he’s giggling and apologising as you dramatically fake a gag. it would take all of his friends’ willpower to prevent from fake gagging as well but in the end, it’s heartwarming to look at you two.

┆彡 JUNHUI [ 文俊辉 ]

it’s normal for both of you to ask for something. you usually hand him his clothes when he forgets to take then to the bathroom or he’ll grab your book and bring it to you. however when you’re with his members you can’t help but notice how jealous they get over it. “junnie, can you hand me a glass of water?” you ask suddenly. they all look at him suspiciously, expecting a snarky comment or plain ignorance. but jun stands up slowly and while walking next to you he boops your nose. “of course, baby” he hums and off he goes to the kitchen to bring it to you. coming back to reading your book, a smile lingers on your lips when their complaints reach your ears (“he didn’t even bring me a single drop of water when i begged him after our comeback practice?!”). he comes back, holding a glass of water and hands it over to you with the most caring expression on his face.

┆彡 SOONYOUNG [ 순영 ]

everyone was ignoring you, just being lovey-dovey in a corner. as soonyoung was loving all the attention, you squished his cheeks with a grin. “you’re so cute…” a hum left your mouth, followed by a giggle. he pulled you even closer, tilting his head “…like a hamster”. the whole room went silent, eyes turning towards you. everyone was expecting a sudden wave of shouts of protest and arguments proving he’s a tiger, not a hamster but… nothing. soonyoung just smiled wider, lips curling upwards. “how is that possible? how did she get away with that?” someone grunted and you chuckled again, placing a quick peck on his lips. because most of the time hoshi was your tiger but in soft moments like this soonyoung was your hamster.

┆彡 WONWOO [ 원우 ]

sharing clothes with his friends (usually mingyu) was something normal for wonwoo so it was only natural that he shared his clothes with you, his significant other, as well. however, things started to change as mingyu noticed wonwoo wasn’t so willing to lend him his clothes anymore. “no, i don’t really… i stopped borrowing others my clothes, i always ended up with lack of necessities” your boyfriend explained with a giggle, mingyu nodding understandably. but things weren’t adding up when mingyu noticed you wearing similar hoodies and t-shirts. “nonu, i’m taking your leather jacket!” you announced on your way out one day, grinning wildly. and suddenly it all made sense. wonwoo only allowed you to still borrow his clothes because of your scent lingering on them afterwards. and honestly, mingyu wasn’t even offended.

┆彡 JIHOON [ 지훈 ]

jihoon isn’t too big on skinship. everyone knows that. he doesn’t fully like it, sometimes it makes him uncomfortable. hoshi still remembers that one time when he got pushed a little too hard by him when he fell asleep on jihoon’s arm. but you… oh, you. he didn’t even notice that you falling asleep on him doesn’t bother him. in fact, he enjoys it. once asleep on his lap, he was trapped on the couch; sure, he could push you off but he didn’t have the heart to do so. whilst playing with your hair the most dramatic gasp reached his ears. “OH WHAT THE–?!” dino yelled out and it took one look from jihoon to make him quiet. the younger one left the room, sprinting to share the unusual gossip while (the gossip itself) woozi put a blanket over you, his heart overtaken by warmth.

┆彡 SEOKMIN [ 석민 ]

it’s no surprise that dokyeom inhales his food. whether it’s because he’s hungry or doesn’t want to share (which is more likely) or he has to be fast because with other twelve hungry men it’s either eat or be eaten. but it comes as a shock when you’re out with them, enjoying the meal and dokyeom suddenly offers you his food. “you want some?” he asks tenderly and when you nod, he’s handing you the plate. with heart in his eyes he’s watching as you munch on the food, a happy smile on your face. “delicious, isn’t it?” your boyfriend hums and you nod, ignoring the whines of but he never shares with us! in the background.

┆彡 MINGYU [ 민규 ]

as you entered the room you could feel the atmosphere was thick. seungcheol was pouting with his arms crossed and others were side eyeing mingyu. “baby, could you drop me off to the convenience store? my favourite snacks are–“ you started, unsure why everyone is now staring at mingyu. he just smiled sweetly and stood up, reaching to his pocket over to grab his car keys. chaos erupted, mostly yells of “but you just turned down to drop off seungcheol!”. mingyu not only gives you rides everywhere but also at any given time, let it be 2am because you’re craving mcdonald’s. you’re also his passenger princess – controlling the aux, opening windows whenever you like, etc etc. as long as you’re not creating any possible dangerous situations, you’re good. albeit, there’s one rule: his hand being attached atop your thigh.

┆彡 MINGHAO [ 徐明浩 ]

it’s not something extraordinary that the members tease him, they do that on daily basis on each other. especially during gose, nowadays that he stopped meditating. sure, it’s fun for his friends to tease and make fun of him but most of the time it ends up with him throwing snarky comments back or even smacking them. “look, look his nostrils are flaring!” seungkwan yelled out, causing a manic laughter from all of them. before minghao looked over at you, laughing too, he sent the younger one a deadly stare. “you look like a bull ready to attack!” you added, giggling. he rose his hand, all of them expecting him to smack you on the arm or push you away but put it on your arm instead he pulled you closer. he broke into a soft smile, gaze softening. “oh what the–“ seungkwan grunted, mouth agape and just like that, a switch has flipped again. with a thundering gaze aimed at seungkwan, hao soothingly rubbed your arm. your teasing never put him in a bad mood, quite the contrary: he found it actually amusing (and adorable, too)

┆彡 SEUNGWAN [ 승관 ]

your boyfriend coming home in the middle of the night was such a normal occurrence lately that once he opened the door at nearly 7pm, you thought it was a intruder. “oh hi kwannie, how was work today?” you ask and the answer is on his face. after a long day of variety shows and cracking jokes, he’s emotionally drained. it’s not like it wasn’t fun but it was exhausting being the entertainer. seungkwan plops down next to you, burying his head in your neck. there’s no need to be loud, yell or talk to the camera when he’s with you… he can loosen up. he allows himself to loosen up in your presence, not being worried about if he’s entering others enough. with your embrace surrounding him and your fingers gently playing with his hair, he even manages to snooze a bit

┆彡 VERNON [ 버논 ]

vernon is rather okay with people borrowing his stuff but it’s not like his friends didn’t want to… their styles differed, that’s all. but one thing he didn’t lend often is his beanies. they just his favourite accessory and besides, who would want to borrow a beanie? well, you apparently. the first time he realised that on a photo you posted on insta you’re wearing his beanie… he couldn’t help but to smile wildly. the thing was, he didn’t confront you about it. he enjoyed the way you sneakily stole his beanies and lately put them back in their place. one time he just bluntly took off his beanie and put it over your head, pulling it down so you wouldn’t see a thing. before you managed to pull it back, vernon was giggling and hiding his phone so you don’t delete the photos he just took. you took it as a sign that your little beanie thievery is okay with him.

┆彡 CHAN [ 찬 ]

he was pretty excited for the weekend: just him, his friends and you having a fun time at cabin near a lake that seungkwan found. but when on saturday morning, while he was on his way to the meeting point, you called with a raspy voice and sniffing every second his enthusiasm dropped. “i’m sorry channie, i won’t be able to make it. but you better go, have fun–“ you croaked out and didn’t waste a moment to take a sharp turn and go to your place. only after buying needed meds and some ingredients to make you a chicken soup, he called his friends you and him won’t go. they understood, of course, and wished you a speedy recovery. at first you complained he turned down spending his free time in longly awaited place but in the end you can’t stay mad at him. while he’s feeding you soup and throwing away all the used tissues; lee chan shows you that you’re his priority, even if that means sacrificing his spare time. nonetheless, time spend with you is never a wasted time (and he’ll stand by it, despite the sickness you accidentally passed to him)

[ masterlist <3 ]

taglist. @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinshua ,, @stxrseungs ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @iliveforlixie ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @mark-geolli ,, @l3visbby,, @w3bqrl,, @ddeonudepressions,, @yourfavoritefreakyhan ,, @cinnamoroxie,, @kazmura

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dark-tides-in-faerun · 5 months

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Boiling Point (1/2)

Astarion x You!

Your party stumble across a hot spring in the wilds and agree to take turns bathing. It turns out, Astarion isn’t very good at taking turns but is more than happy to share…

🌶️mature🌶️ (fair warning that this chapter is just a little steamy but the next one will be very nsfw!)

You lay on your back in the recently discovered hot spring, eyes closed, basking in the delicious warmth. If this wasn't heaven, you weren't sure what was. The moon lights up the little clearing you’re in, giving everything that it touches a lovely, silvery sheen, and you close your eyes and relax into it, feeling at ease for the first time in weeks.

“Well, hello.”

You almost jump out of your skin.

“Astarion.” You gasp, spluttering up a lungful of water as you quickly sink lower beneath the surface, arms crossing against your chest in a bid to protect your modesty as you twist toward him. The water’s cloudy enough that he wouldn’t be able to see anything, but that knowledge does very little to make you feel less exposed. “What in the nine hells is wrong with you?”

“Nothing that a little dip couldn’t fix.” He quips, lounging against a rock, his face the picture of innocence and your eyes narrow as you notice he’s clutching a crimson towel in one pale hand.

“It’s not your turn.” You warn, narrow eyes meeting his as his carefully blank face looks back at you. You’d all agreed on a schedule for hot spring use and given that he’d already talked you into letting him steal all of your allocated time, it definitely wasn’t his turn.

“Oh, I know that.” He replies, the picture of unaffected grace as he looks at his nails and then back at you. “I just think it’s a little selfish of you to be… indulging yourself with so little regard for other people’s feelings.”

“Is it?” You say, slowly, and his lips quirk up in response. “Or is it a ‘little selfish’ to interrupt someone during the only time they’ve had to themselves in days. Especially when that person in question has already given up every other opportunity to bathe in the hot spring for you.”

“Yes, yes, that was very generous of you darling, but try to look at it from my perspective. You generate your own heat, but what about me? Do you know what it feels like to spend night after night in this frozen and miserable, knowing that there’s something warm and wet that I could sink myself into just meters away?”

His voice is innocent, but as his eyes drop to where your skin disappears beneath the water, the smile he gives you is anything but. It's obvious he’s trying to use your physical response to him to manipulate you, because he's always trying to do that and you flush, desire flooding to your core just as he intends it. But you're not just flushing because of the obscene way he's looking at you. It's because that smile has reminded you of how he looked when he returned from the springs last night. All pink skin and delighted exuberance. He’d been light, playful, exhilarated... Happy. And you knew enough about his past to know that happiness wasn’t something he’d known much of in his long life.

“Why can't you just go and bother someone else for a change.” You grumble, but the delighted shine in his eyes shows you that he knows he's getting his way and you scowl at him. “Gods give me strength. Turn around.”

“Why?” he asks, mouth blooming into a full smile and you can’t help the extra little flip your stomach gives at the sight of it.

“Because I’m naked and I’m not getting out with you staring at me. Turn around.”

“Darling, I’m hurt. Are you really suggesting we can’t share? There’s more than enough room for two.” He pouts, eyes shining as he stares down at you, sparkling with mischief and butterflies flutter to life in your stomach at the suggestion. You know he’s only trying to get a rise out of you but damn it, if it isn’t working. "Besides, I promise to keep my hands to myself.”

You choke back a strangled laugh because it really wasn’t him you were worried about. The butterflies have gone into overdrive just from the suggestion, and you can feel the heat staining your cheeks a darker pink than the warmth of the hot spring. You stare up at him, eyes a little too wide, and he gives you a self-satisfied smile. You can see in his gaze that he expects you to balk. Expects you to surrender the hot spring and slink away with your pink cheeks and pounding heart.

Well fuck him.

You force a sweet smile, feeling a thrum of satisfaction at the slight widening of his eyes as instead of moving toward him you wade to the far edge and turn around. For a long moment there’s nothing and you wonder if he’s even still there.

“Well? Are you getting in or not?” You demand, proud that your voice is only a little shaky, and he lets out a laugh. You swallow, focusing on trying to keep your heart rate level as you hear the sound of rustling fabric and then the water ripples around you as he slips in behind you.

“You can look now, darling, I assure you I’m quite decent.”

You turn around and immediately regret not getting out when you had the chance.

There is nothing decent about the way he looks right now.

The moonlight floods the broad expanse of his naked chest, staining it an ethereal, shining white, and he looks like he was carved from marble. The steam from the water has already tightened the hair at the nape of his neck into little curls. He’s stark and beautiful in the silver moonlight, but it’s not even that, that’s most striking.

It’s his expression.

His eyes are closed, head resting against the grassy bank behind him and the little smile that plays at the edges of his lips is a million miles away from his usual shit-eating grin. It’s small and soft and decidedly content and you swallow. It’s the full force of the little smile you’d seen at camp. It’s true happiness, you realize and it makes your heart pound and ache in equal measure to acknowledge that you’ve never seen that particular smile before.

He shifts, lifting his arms from the water and resting them against the rocky edge of the pool, blinking up at you and that little smile dissolves into something darker. Water streams from his skin, running between the dips and crevices of his muscular biceps and you shrink into yourself a little, sinking into the water until just your chin hovers above it. There’s nothing you can do about your heart now, it’s pounding against your ribs like it wants to escape from your chest and his crimson eyes are fixed on you as you try your best to keep yourself in check.

“Happy now?” you ask, and though your voice is a little breathy you feel like the fact that you’ve even gotten the words out is a feat of heroic proportions.

“Very.” He replies closing his eyes, and you can’t help but smile at that. He looks more content than you’ve ever seen him and that thought triggers a reaction in you that’s so strong that you suddenly realize that you can’t stay here. He doesn’t deserve to be ogled like this, when he’s just trying to relax. From the little snippets he’s given you from his past he’s had enough of that to last several lifetimes.

You clear your throat and he opens his eyes again, one eyebrow raised questioningly you swallow, gesturing at him to swap places with you. He sits up at that, a surprised smile on his lips and you shake your head, not wanting him to get the wrong idea about your intentions.

“I’m going to leave you to it.” You say, your words only catching a little in your throat as he cocks his head to the side, looking at you thoughtfully.

“Leave me to what, exactly?” He asks, voice low and teasing, and heat rises beneath your cheeks as steam curls up in silvery tendrils around his chest.

“This. Warming up.” You manage, trying not to look at him as you edge your way around the to the other side of the spring, nearer to the grassy knoll, but you really need him to move out of the way if you want to make a graceful exit. “I’ll see you back at camp.”

“I can think of better ways to warm up.” He says, voice a little too innocent, and your gaze flicks to him before you can stop yourself. His eyes are fixed on you and the look in them is dark and predatory and you falter, heart in your throat. You’ve seen that look before, and you swallow as his gaze slips to your neck, the hunger in it apparent.

“I-I-“ you start, but your words die in your throat. The way he’s looking at you has melted your insides into a puddle of lust and your really, really need to get yourself under control. You take a breath. Blood. He means blood. You try to distract your pounding heart by thinking through the implications of what he’s asking. You’re no cleric, but surely bloodletting in hot water wasn’t the best of ideas... “Is it safe?”

He frowns at that, cocking his head to the side as if trying to work out your meaning and you swallow and touch your neck.

“Is it safe to feed in the water?” You say, again. He freezes for a second, and then some unreadable expression passes over his face before he quickly looks away. If you didn’t know him better, you’d have said it was disappointment.

“Of course.” He says, seemingly to himself, and when he looks up the expression has been swallowed up by his usual confidence. “Don’t worry, my sweet. I’ll take very good care of you.”

He holds out his hand and you bite your lip, hesitating for a moment. It’s not that you don’t trust him. If he says it’s safe you believe him, but you’re just suddenly very aware of your lack of clothes. You shift uncertainly, edging a tiny bit closer to him and a slow smile spread over his lips.

“I think you’ll find you need to be a little closer than that.” He says in a voice that spreads beneath your skin like treacle, and for the second time in one night you regret not leaving when you had the chance.

You shiver despite the heat as you place your hand in his and he wraps his pale fingers around yours, tugging you gently towards him. For one panicked second you think he's going to pull you onto his lap, but he stops when you're a few inches apart. You put your free hand on the grassy bank to steady yourself as he lifts your hand to his mouth, rotating it so that the soft skin of your wrist presses gently against his lips. He's fed from you before but, other than the very first time when he almost lost himself, he’s been almost clinical in his approach. Careful to only touch as much as he needs to.

This is not that.

You watch, dumbstruck, as his pink tongue slips out from between his lips to swipe a cool stripe across the overheated plane of your wrist. Your breath catches, a small hitch at the back of your throat, but he catches it and drowning crimson orbs flick up to meet your startled gaze. He does it again, staring at you darkly from beneath his eyelashes and licks another tortuously slow line across your aching skin.

You try not to, but you can't help but gasp, hand gripping tightly into the grass, and his pupils dilate with bloodlust as his fingers tighten against your skin. Gods.

“A-Astarion.” Your voice is breathy and tight, barely audible and you feel almost drunk from just this small amount of contact. He closes his eyes at the sound, a pained expression passing over his face as a shudder runs through his body, and then, before you can say anything else, his fangs sink into your wrist.

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doumadono · 5 months

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Genshin men in heat - headcanons

Warnings: fem!reader, smut A/N: this little thing was written for my one and only @crystalwolfblog

GENSHIN IMPACT MASTERLIST

Zhongli

During his heat, Zhongli becomes especially attentive to you, showering you with affectionate gestures and heartfelt compliments.

Zhongli has a particular fondness for handholding, finding comfort and solace in the simple yet profound act of physical connection.

During moments of intimacy, Zhongli shows a fondness for traditional Liyuean music, creating a soothing atmosphere that enhances the connection between him and you.

Zhongli takes delight in exploring sensory experiences, introducing scented oils and candles during intimate moments to heighten the atmosphere; he loves giving you a back massage when he's slowly fucking your pussy doggy style with your body pressed into the mattress.

He reigns supreme when it comes to overstimulation. Simple as that.

He's about to eat your pussy out to the point where your clit is swollen and too sensitive, leaving you desperately attempting to guide his head away, but his firm grip ensures your hands remain under his control. "No chance, babygirl. Let me savor every bit of this delicious feast."

He'll ever so delicately give your ass a playful smack while fucking you from behind, skillfully massaging the soft fat of your buttocks after.

"In the vastness of Liyue, you are my most precious treasure."

Neuvilette

Neuvilette's heat brings out his gentle side. He becomes more verbally expressive, whispering sweet nothings and words of comfort.

His playfulness peaks, and he engages in lighthearted activities to lift the mood and make you smile.

He expresses his love through touch, with a preference for soft caresses and gentle kisses, creating a tender, nurturing atmosphere.

Neuvilette enjoys intertwining fingers during moments of intimacy, when his cock is buried deep in your pussy.

He takes pleasure in exploring your sex, using either his skilled tongue or fingers. Whatever brings you joy is exactly what he's focused on doing.

The Iudex revels in the sensation of you mounting him in his alcove. In this intimate space, he willingly relinquishes control, viewing it as a welcome escape from his daily duties. With a firm grip on your hips, he skillfully guides their movement, his gaze irresistibly drawn to the smooth rhythm of your breasts gently bouncing as you ride his cock, moaning his name.

"In your arms, I've found a sanctuary where I can be myself without fear or judgment."

Wriothesley

Despite his usual reserved demeanor, Wriothesley becomes more openly affectionate during his heat, craving physical closeness.

He expresses his emotions through carefully chosen words and actions, making sure you know you're cherished.

Wriothesley enjoys quiet evenings, reading poetry or sharing stories, creating a deeper emotional connection with his loved one.

In his alcove, Wriothesley turns into a fierce lover - he's determined to ensure your pleasure doesn't stop at just one or two climaxes, but unfolds in a series of multiple peaks.

He excels in the art of overstimulation, akin to Zhongli's expertise. He's committed to going above and beyond your limits to elicit involuntary tremors in your legs when he's fucking your cunny.

"Your lips hold the poetry that words fail to express. Let our kisses write the verses of our love," amidst the forceful thrusts, he's about to murmur gently in your ear before kissing your lips passionately.

Wriothesley won't shy away from taking immense pleasure in finishing inside you, relishing the sight of your mixed essences as they gracefully ooze from your pussy and drip down on the sheets.

Itto

Itto's energetic personality during his heat translates into playful and adventurous dates, from spontaneous outings to exciting challenges.

He showers you with compliments.

Itto's protective instincts heighten, making him more attuned to your needs and ensuring your well-being above all else.

Itto's love language involves physical touch, and he finds joy in affectionate gestures, like playful nudges and warm embraces, to express his deep connection.

Itto has a knack for combining laughter and passion, creating an atmosphere where the boundaries between playfulness and intimacy blur; like when in the missionary position, he leans in to kiss you, and strands of his hair gracefully cascade into your mouth. You shake your head, attempting to free the strands, all the while sharing a laughter-filled exchange, finding joy in the unexpected yet amusing situation.

He has a preference for fast sex, and he'll fervently fuck himself in your pussy without reservation, rolling his head back at times.

He dearly enjoys when you give him head, and he's going to beg for it with fervor, like a desperate bitch. "Please, baby, I need your beautiful mouth around my dick."

"Oh shit, babygirl, you feel so good, fuck! It feels so good to be inside your tight pussy."

Itto is committed to exploring every conceivable position with you; he thrives on discovering new experiences and broadening his horizons.

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yoursweetwife · 3 months

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Synopsis: you were sure of the excellence of your cooking, and you didn't want to throw it away due to lack of hunger, so you decided to feed the Ratio.

Warning: the reader is an excellent cook, fluff, friends to lovers, professor!reader, I'm sure that Ratio hates cooking, I won't change my mind.

There are three things that most infuriate Ratio.

Idiots.

When his phone is bursting with calls and messages.

Cooking.

It's not that Veritas doesn't know how to cook, he knows a couple of recipes, is smart enough not to burn down the kitchen, the cooking process itself irritates him.

However, too often the Ratio instead of the usual dinner or breakfast drinks a cup of coffee or eats a hastily prepared salad. Even at work, he rarely took a lunch break and locked himself in his office, the food in the dining room did not attract him at all, so attempts by other colleagues to invite him to have lunch together were ignored.

On one of those days, you decided to go up to him and treat him to your food. You didn't have an appetite today, and you don't want to just leave one of the best dishes you've ever cooked.

When everyone left for lunch, you walked into his classroom and briskly walked up to the workplace of Ratio.

At the sight of you, the scientist stopped putting things away and looked at you.

Because of the plaster mask, you couldn't see his expression, but you can tell from his friendly voice that he doesn't mind your presence.After all, you are one of the few whose mind Veritas has recognized as almost equal to his own. It became a catalyst for your friendship.

"Professor [Surname], what brings you to me? You usually have lunch with other people at this time."

He sat down on the chair again, holding the book in his hands, waiting for the moment when he could open it.

"Enough of these formalities, we're alone," a smile lit up your face and you quickly groped for the food container in your hands. - and about lunch..."

You held out the box and looked expectantly at Ratio, who didn't even move.

"I'm not hungry today, so I want to give this to you."

"So give it to someone else."

You puffed out your cheeks and made the saddest look, trying to convince Veritas. At such moments, he did not understand what he found interesting in your childish behavior. Nevertheless, he was attracted to it.

"I want you to try it. I swear, it's very tasty and healthy! Ratio, you won't regret it."

The scientist sighed in amazement and put the book aside. No matter how strong his desire to refuse, it was pointless to resist you.

"So be it, I'll try it."

You smiled gratefully and held out your hands to Veritas. When Ratio's hands touched yours, he couldn't help but feel the warmth from them.

"Fantastic, then you can share your impressions. - you looked at your watch and exclaimed in amazement. "Oh no, I still have to prepare for the lesson!"

Waving goodbye, you left his office, leaving Ratio alone with your "gift".

The smell of freshly cooked food filled the empty room as if it had been cooked just today.

Even the plaster head couldn't stop the smell from spreading through his body.

It looked and smelled just great, for such a clumsy person like you, such filigree and neatness was just incredible.

Ratio winces at the memory of your workplace. He still doesn't understand how you can sort out all those papers and appliances on your desk.

"You can't tell the quality of food by the smell alone."

Soon the mask was left on the table, next to documents, books and tests for students.

The first piece and...

The soft texture of the meat began to delight his taste buds from the very first minutes. The golden eyes widened with an all-encompassing sense of pleasure.

It was the most delicious meal he had eaten in a while. His pride won't allow him to admit it out loud, no, admit to himself that he doesn't mind eating it every day.

Ratio didn't even notice how empty the container was. He mentally scolded himself for his lack of restraint and pushed the container aside.

His eyes ran over the lines of the book, reading the text, but his thoughts were about something else, the students should come soon, which means that he has very little time.

A smile formed on Veritas' face. Perhaps he should also be hinted that he doesn't mind at all if you bring him your cooking every day.

#Dr Ratio #hsr x reader #female reader #dr ratio x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #dr ratio fluff #dr. ratio x reader #fem!reader #I have a lot of problems with English

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lilbunnis · 6 months

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❛ ♡. header credit. ⎯⎯ 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲. ❜

★ ⎯⎯ aemond targaryen has always wanted someone as his own; and with him already having claimed his vicious mount vhagar, the queen of dragons herself--- what is there to stop him from claiming you, too?

author’s note᛬ heey! 🍓 so……this is my second time posting this particular story--- however, it was a long time ago & someone anonymously requested to read it again. happily, i offered to repost it for them (with the exception that i re-edit it since my style of writing has changed / improved!) … anyways, reblogs & comments are deeply appreciated. ♡ + both aemond & reader are equally unhinged. <3 mwuah !

warnings᛬ mdni! smut, dubcon [kind of… but trust me, it’s wanted], dark!aemond, profanity, she/her pronouns, afab reader, innocence kink, corruption kink, coercion, manipulation, pussy whipped!aemond, breeding kink, cunnilingus, fingering, obsessive & possessive behavior, pet names, romance, fluff. any grammatical errors are my own--- in advance, i sincerely apologize.

word count᛬ 2.5k

𝐎𝐇, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝑭𝑶𝑹 𝒀𝑶𝑼, 𝐈’𝐃 𝐃𝐎 𝑨𝑵𝒀𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑮.

aemond targaryen has always thought of her as his--- his to protect, his to care for, his to love; ever since he’d met her, he surrounded himself in her feminine presence, around her sweetness and innocence, keeping her close by and never letting her trail very far out of his sight.

unless, of course, it was absolutely necessary, and even then, he’d have one of his most trustworthy guards (loyal only to him) follow her around all day--- discreetly, of course.

however, during their short time apart, the one-eyed prince would be on constant edge; irritable and in a foul mood throughout the time that they were apart, not being able to trust anyone to truly protect his lady the way he knew he could.

oh, how he missed his dearly beloved so--- so much so, that the wayward prince was known for his brutal lashings and merciless beheadings (all a gift to his love) to all of those who merely breathed the wrong way in his proximity.

or simply, sweet gifts of pretty, sparkling sapphires and pearls.

still, he knew that she thought his temper and rage was charming, as she had once told him in that sweet, gentle little voice of hers, soothing his fiery temper as if she were the maiden reborn.

like his own little angel, so delicate, tender-hearted and mine, aemond thought.

sometimes, most of the time, aemond would just simply gaze at her, at her beauty, longingly; like she was the center of the universe and held all of the twinkling stars in the night sky.

most people wouldn’t dare to believe such a thing, but aemond thought it was cute when she learned something new in philosophy, excitedly wanting to share the new knowledge she’d learned from her septa with him--- even if he already knew, just to be able to listen to her sweet, angelic voice.

oh, and on those simple days, content to just listen to her babbling on about whichever subject she deemed of interest; he would lovingly hand feed her fresh strawberries, one by one; the ripest, juiciest and sweetest ones, listening as she breathily moaned in content as each one entered her pouty mouth.

meanwhile, as his little darling continued on about whichever subject interested her at the moment; the one-eyed prince watched in delight as the red juices dribbled down her chin, allowing him to quickly swoop in and kiss it delicately away, causing him to hum in content at the sweet taste.

whether it be from the strawberries themselves or the sweet taste of her skin, it mattered not to the prince--- because the next moment, he would drop to his knees and feast on her delicious, drooling cunt; burying himself right beneath her fluffy skirts as he heard her girlishly moan and whimper for him, as he continued enjoying the taste of her maidenhood.

on lazy days, the prince will sit with her in his lap, one of his strong, lean arms wrapped snugly around her waist, most protectively; meanwhile, his free hand would slip beneath her fluffy skirts and play with her virgin, soaking cunt, teasingly stroking his long, calloused fingers through her wet, puffy folds.

seven above, and the sounds of her soft, breathy little moans, almost luring him to bend her right over the wooden table in the back of the library and rut into her like some wild, depraved beast, claiming her maidenhead as his.

‘twas almost too much to bear for the prince, knowing she was already his in body, mind, heart and soul.

he always imagined what she must taste like that day, right before he would feast on her cunny, almost to tease himself--- like freshly baked sweet tarts, spoonfuls of honey, strawberries…

late at night, while in the privacy of his own chambers, he’d furiously fuck his fist to the thought of burying his face between her smooth thighs once again, wanting nothing more than to taste and fuck her cunt with his tongue greedily; before he’d come so fucking hard in his hand, his seed coating the skin of his taut abdomen and dripping down his fingers--- sticky and messy and entirely spent.

sighing heavily, aemond would barely resist the temptation to exit his chambers and go straight to hers, knowing she’d welcome him with an open heart and open legs.

…fuck, what a waste of his seed, he thinks, for he could’ve pumped her empty womb full of his seed; fuck load after load inside of her, and come by morning, she would already be carrying his son in her belly.

rightfully so; she’s be so beautiful, so fragile, so obedient, a perfect little wife she’d be for him, indeed.

meanwhile, back in the library, aemond would continue teasing her little cunny, occasionally dipping the very tips of his fingertips into her little virgin fuck-hole, feeling how fucking tight she was for him, causing him to harden almost painfully inside of his leather breeches, right below her squirming, little ass.

like his very own wanton, silk street whore.

she continued to moan and whimper repeatedly; making him gently shush her with delicate kisses across her neck, spreading her dripping arousal all around her swollen bud, hearing her mewl his name like a prayer and grip the polished library table forcibly, watching her blissed-out face until she came all over his fingers.

when he made her come so hard with just playing with her little bundle of nerves, he had to slap a hand over her mouth to muffle her cries of pleasure and whisper sweet praises into her ear, knowing how sensitive and needy she was in his arms, just after coming down from her peak and making her come so hard on his fingers.

of course, the more time he spent with her, the harder it was to resist her--- and so, most nights, when aemond could no longer resist being away from her; the need to see her being just too much for him to bear any longer, he’d eagerly seek her out, knowing she’d be in her chambers, awaiting his arrival.

just as eager and wanton as he was, it seemed.

smirking, aemond chuckled softly, embracing her; “my sweetest, my darling, my little love--- fuck, i have missed you.”

he couldn’t control himself anymore, he needed to see her, to be with her, to have her.

always.

specifically, in the late hours of the night, wanting to be as close to her as physically possible; fuck, he loved her so much, he didn’t ever want her to doubt his love for her--- he stripped them both of their evening clothes, his amethyst eye dilated and wild at the sight of her nude form.

during those private evenings, aemond had convinced her for him to claim her as his… fully, in the ways only a man could claim a woman.

with his persuasion, his silver tongue easily convinced her into saying yes; causing him to release a purr and claim her body multiple times that night, until she was a shaking, sobbing and sweaty mess beneath him, full of loads of his seed, while he held her tightly against him in his arms--- possessively.

uncaringly, the prince left all sorts of love marks all across her skin, kissing every inch of her soft, glistening skin that he could reach, suckling on her swollen, puffy nipples, knowing her plush breasts would soon grow heavy with milk for their many babes that’d come someday soon.

selfishly, just maybe; he could persuade his little darling for a taste for himself--- fucking hells, he couldn’t wait for her to grow round and fat with his sons!

insatiably, he would fuck his already hardening, leaking cock back inside of her sopping cunt, his and her own moans of pure love and ecstasy echoing off of the walls of her chambers.

however, even with all of the bliss and pleasure and love; still came her doubts and worries.

his sweet lady, his precious love, his only girl--- was utterly terrified of someone finding out about their affair.

however, the fearsome, bloodthirsty dragon prince would always reassure her; whispering sweet words of his love and devotion into her ears, calming her by kissing her love-marked skin before he would fuck her squelching cunt once again with his cock, ploughing into her mercilessly, filling her with another load of his seed, until tears would stream down her blushy cheeks.

unable to stop herself, she’d let out the most feminine moans for him, not being able to control her sweet mewls from escaping her kiss-swollen lips, sobbing out deliriously as he continuously fucked her ruthlessly, uncaring of who heard them; for the one-eyed prince was too addicted to the taste of her and the pretty, precious sounds she made just for him.

it wouldn’t matter anyway, if anyone were to find out about their love affair--- aemond genuinely honestly couldn’t give a fuck if someone were to tell her lord father that her maidenhead was claimed by him anyone.

if anyone would dare to question his lady’s virtue or purity, he would cut out their tongues, before mercilessly killing them and feed their mutilated corpse to his mighty beast, vhagar.

aemond had always been a possessive man, especially when it concerned his sweet little lady, to the point that most of the noble lords and ladies of the court started to take notice; however, the fearsome prince paid them little attention--- nowadays, his only concern in life was his darling little bride.

some days, when the weather was warm enough and the sun was shining brightly, aemond would take his lady on long walks around the red keep’s royal gardens, right after he finished his morning training session with ser criston.

as always, it was just the two of them, together; and while he watched her instead of admiring the pretty flowers that she seemed so smitten by, he couldn’t stop the tiny grin from spreading across his face at just the mere sight of her.

her, her, her.

his--- his lady, his woman, his wife.

there was a secret, hidden alcove surrounded by various cherry trees and gorgeous pink peonies, which aemond would often bring her to visit; it was almost as if it was their special spot.

then, without warning, aemond would gently press her back up against one of the trunks of the pretty, blossoming cherry trees, kissing her so sweetly, so passionately, so tenderly; it made her swoon and see constellations on the backs of her fluttering eyelids.

“marry me.”

suddenly, she felt as if her heart had suddenly stopped beating and she felt rather faint--- for a moment, her heart felt as if it had skipped several beats, because surely… her sweet aemond did not just ask the impossible of her?

again, aemond spoke.

“marry me,” he murmured against her soft, perfumed skin (that smelled of the lavender oils they’d previously bathed in that morning together) trailing open-mouthed kisses along her sensitive neck, causing a breathy whimper to escape her pretty, pouty lips.

instantly, aemond’s ears had perked up to the sound of her breathing that was quickening, his large hands roaming and grasping at her sides as if to soothe her sudden panic, enjoying the feeling of her womanly curves against his big hands, even through the silk fabric of her pretty, sapphire colored dress.

“hmm…no,” she drawled lazily, though her sweet voice was teasing, “—my father is suspicious enough already about all of the rumors going on about us…he doesn't ask, of course; i’m afraid it’s because he is too frightened of you,” she giggled softly, batting her long eyelashes up at the handsome prince.

aemond smirked, amused by his little darling.

“besides,” she continued softly, her usual sweetened voice saddened and aemond watched as his lady’s heart was visibly breaking right before his own eye, “—my father… he will arrange a betrothal for me soon and i must do my duty, as is expected of me,” she whispered, while gently twirling a few strands of her lover’s long silvery hair around one of her fingers, her face sullen--- like a little girl having her favorite treat taken away from her.

aemond hummed; a soft, dangerous sound as his face remained stoic, not displaying a single emotion that he was currently feeling--- his natural-born eye on the other hand…was a raging storm of a dark, angry violet, screaming promises of fire and blood.

“that'll never happen,” aemond murmured softly, his voice a raspy baritone, completely unbothered, “—if your father even dares to try and take you away from me, he'll suffer a most painful death; i assure you, my sweet lady.”

her heart fluttered, both of her cheeks heating up and her head began to feel fuzzy, a dreamy expression forming on her pretty face; though she wasn’t sure if it was from the warm weather or by his loving, murderous words.

“you're so sweet,” she cooed dreamily, smiling up at him as she wrapped both of her arms around his neck loosely, her fingers gently brushing through more of his long silvery hair, feeling how silky-smooth the strands were--- curtsey of the queen, his darling mother; a sweet gift of scented oils she had gotten for her favorite son all the way from pentos.

“only for you, my beloved,” the prince promised, tenderly brushing his knuckles along one of her rosy cheeks, bending down towards her shorter height and capturing her rouge-stained lips in a sweet, deeply passionate kiss--- a deep, throaty sound of lust escaping from him.

ah, she tastes of the sweetest of innocence and strawberries.

his favorite.

‘twas as if the prince could never get enough of her taste, of her.

sweetly, she releases a little whine, high-pitched and so needy for him; the sweetness of a poisonous kiss--- oh, how he wants to love her forever and bathe in all of the glorious love she had to offer him.

gods, he loved her… only, only, only her.

“my angel, so soft and pure, so innocent; and your precious heart… it is mine,” he growled, deepening the kiss against her lips--- his large, warm and calloused hands began trailing down to cup her sweet, little ass through her skirts, bundling the silky, sapphire colored fabric in his greedy hands to fondle and squeeze the soft flesh of her asscheeks; pinching and clutching possessively.

grinning wolfishly, aemond trailed his open-mouthed kisses down her delicate neck, suckling freshly new love marks into her fading, bruised skin--- all across her neck, jawline, collarbones and the very tops of her soft, perky breasts.

“marry me,” he asked once again, sounding impatient, though he wouldn’t mind begging, if it only meant claiming her for himself.

she wrapped her arms around his neck more snugly, standing on the tips of her toes to kiss him sweetly, all across his chin and the corners of his mouth, feeling his hands roam freely all over her once more before settling still, giving her backside a loving squeeze.

“be my wife,” he pleads once more, his tone of voice more desperate than ever before, sweet as sugar and the burning flesh of corpses.

she released a small sigh, moving closer just slightly so that she could brush her saliva-coated lips softly against his own, “yes,” she breathed lovingly, feeling as he visibly shuddered against her just from her mere acceptance of his begging proposal.

“i’ve always been yours.”

fin.

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osachiyo · 6 months

Note

love, love, what do you think about a reader who has really thick thighs :0 how would the bsd men react to it >:0 I feel like Nikolai/Dazai would like to force the reader to sit on their face lol (it’s a thirst just in case!!)

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ note. . . AAAAAA this ask made me so insane tysm for this nonnie. . . (mdni) not proofread sorry im a lazy fuck </3

dazai would love them, maybe so much so that its a little concerning— only a little though ! he'd lovee to lay his head on your plush thighs, whining for you to sing him to sleep— its the only way he can get some rest, y'know? he already loves your thighs so much but if you like wearing booty shorts, tights or even stockings? this man is a goner. just a heads up though, they're gonna be ripped to shreds by the time he's done with you. and no, he's not gonna buy you new ones (he's too broke ya'll)

he's definitely gonna beg you to sit on his face— at least do it once for him, won't you? oh but when you actually give in, he's so fucking happy he could basically die. he'd even say it to you— pretty brown lashes fluttering as he slurs out muffled words like— "god, bella. i could just— could just suffocate between these thighs," and if you know him, you know he's being dead serious. but you can't bring yourself to complain when he's practically making out with your pussy so fuckin' good, making you drool and sputter your words as he runs his tongue up and down your slick folds. filthy slurping noises escaping his lips while his fingers dig into the fat of your thighs— they're definitely gonna bruise later..♡

chuuya would find them adorable. he just loves to bury his face between them. not even in a dirty or suggestive way— he just found it so comforting, y'know? but also would be downright mesmerized by the way your thighs jiggle and spill out of your tights— blood rushing to his face and he can't help but sneak a couple glances at your plump thighs. shit, did they look good but he just wanted to rip them off as soon as possible.

and rip them off he did— blunt nails easily ripping the fabric of your mesh tights as he continues lapping at your soaked cunt. he only chuckled when you gasped and whined about how those were your last pair! he'd peak his head from between your spread thighs— tongue running over his swollen lips and god, did he look like a total fucking mess. his eyes were glazed over with pure lust and love for you— twinkling with delight as you moaned and clutched onto the bedframe, holding on for dear life as chuuya ate you out like a fucking animal. a sloppy grin graced his features, hand moving from your thigh to reach between your legs— pushing two gloved fingers in with ease. "relax, doll. I'll buy you all the tights you need. jus' lemme enjoy my fuckin' meal." and with that, he dived right back in..♡

fyodor found the contrast between your body and his own adorable. he was tall, lanky and slim. you, on the otherhand, were plush, soft and just....so enticing to him. he loved each and every part of your body, of course but your thighs— god, your thighs. he'd love to just bury his face between them and stay there for hours. not that he'd ever admit it, though. his pride wouldn't allow it. that doesn't mean he wouldn't show his adoration for them in a...different way, of course.

he'd lay you down gently on your shared bed, kissing every part of your body from head to those delicious thighs of yours. and after he's finally done— he'd press them together before sliding his cock in between. what? why're you looking at him with those pitiful eyes of yours? what better way to showcase his love for your plush thighs than to fuck them, no? he'd shudder at the way the flushed head of his pretty cock would catch against your clit with every drag of his hips. he'd only laugh cruelly at your whining and begging for him to just put it in! oh well, he's not stopping anytime soon until he gets to cum all over your pussy and those pretty thighs of yours so..goodluck..♡

nikolai would just.. keep his hands on you all the damn time. i mean, how could he not? when you're practically asking him for it! that's why you decided to wear those tight stockings, didn't you? to show off your mouth-watering thighs to the world? he just couldn't keep his eyes off them the entire fucking day. the way the fabric clung and dug into the meat of your thighs and fuck. how could he not get rock hard?

and that's how you ended up seated on his pretty fuckin' face. eager tongue exploring your insides as guttural groans and growls left his parted lips. he was soaked— head getting squeezed by your thighs and he could almost cum from the feeling. his hands were also busy— occasionally slapping and pinching the soft fat on your thighs and snickering at your high pitched squeals. he'd also lift you a little by grabbing the back of your thighs just to look at you with those drunk-dazed eyes. and fuck, he was practically pussy drunk. he wasn't at fault though! it's all your fault for having such nice fucking thighs..♡

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡

TAGS »»————> @hopefulpain @inkmooon @constant-existential-terror @nda-approval @mellieellie @lxverss @lynxxyyy @nanamibeloved

@sorahatsumi @himebwrries @nopethenope @neviex @fyodorisbbg @stygianoir @saharei @x-lunawrites-x @munnaitorei @emyyy007 @dearhoney-31 @the-foreigner @angoisfine @hannzai @honeycombflowers @yuiiasathesilly @kaithegremlin @poisonedslop @sukiischaotic @squigglewigglewoo @boba-is-good @cupidszvlvr @ashthemadwriter @4xxxv @bloobewy @mrs-bakugou @hauntedsol @ask-me-or-not @hanakotateyama @qqingque @lunaeheroine18 @kissesmellow21 @dazaichuuya69 @xxsilverjackalxx @gettinshiggywithit @leftrunawaybanana @deaths-presence @sugaredpersimmon @rjssierjrie @iheartpieck @angelof-darkness @otakudul @dazaisimpletmereadfanficspls @hellokitty-4-lele @scinclaitnoir @aly-insanity @kemis-world @bisexuawolfsalt @thateldribitch

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ttsukiimi · 17 days

Text

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ೋ ⎯ you request a spicy night of bdsm with the jjk men.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ೋ ⎯ gojo x fem!reader, toji x fem!reader, nanami x fem!reader, fem!sukuna x reader, bdsm (obv!), bondage, smut, unprotected sx, multiple orgasms (Sukuna), size difference, slapping, reader referred to as (baby (gojo), princess (toji), woman (hm..I wonder who…)

⟢ ⌒

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 was already halfway through tying your arms behind your back before he got impatient. But could you blame him? Your ass was practically in his face, cunt on display and he couldn’t ignore the hardness in his pants.

“Y’r just gonna have to be good for me and keep your arms like that, ‘Kay?” he mumbles into your ear, already reaching down and freeing his erection of its confines. Toji figured the half-assed job he did would hold you down anyway.

“B-but Toji, the whole point is you tying me,” you pouted, mumbling into the pillow as he pushed your head down. The fat tip of his cock soon slid between your folds, coating in your juices and prompting more slick to dribble out of you.

“Yeah, yeah,” he hums, slowly pushing himself in and hissing as your walls immediately clap down on him. “Don’t need to tie you down anyway,”

One more thrust and he was fully sheathed. Toji groaned, feeling your warmth around his dick.

He slid himself out and pummeled back in, his heavy balls slapping against your clit and causing a shriek to fall from your lips.

“Hm—fuck, you’re so deep..” you mewled, drooling against the pillow his strong hand drowned you into. Toji grinned smugly behind you and gave your ass a hot slap—one that immediately after left a red imprint on your cheek.

“Yeah, that’s fuckin’ right, princess.”

⟢ ⌒

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 didn’t find anything wrong with the idea—rather, he found his cock rising under his sweats at the thought of tying you up. It didn’t help knowing how vulnerable you already were under his huge body most times, he knew you’d be absolutely hopeless and at his mercy.

Soon he was tying your wrists together, smirking at the little whines that left your lips. Though, he was enjoying this a little too much.

“Comfortable, baby?” He asked as he roamed his hands down your back, gripping the fat of your ass, and you gave him a meek but hurried nod.

“‘Toru just put it in already,” you’d mumbled, feeling impatience wash over you, pushing your backside flush to his hips and sensually grinding on him.

Stifling a groan, Satoru placed his blindfold over your eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll put it in reall soon.”

And he did.

But to your surprise and delight, the loss of sight made your other senses more sensitive. Your cunt quivered with every rough thrust Satoru drove into you, and your skin felt as if it were on fire with the way his rough palms grasped at your hips.

On the other hand, he was enjoying this just as much—if not more. You seemed to tighten around him harder than usual, not to mention the very fact that you weren’t trying to run away from every rut of his hips.

And he enjoyed the freedom he had over your body, snaking his hand to your clit, rubbing the nub of nerves in lazy figure eight’s until your body shook, overstimulated.

“You’re not—hah—supposed to enjoy it this much!” You moaned, feeling the head of his cock hit your sweet spot deliciously as he continued the motions of his hand. “‘S too much.”

“Mmm? Nothin’s too much, take what I give you.”

⟢ ⌒

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 wasn’t exactly foreign to the idea. He’s had his fair share of partners and has played into their interests, whether it be in bed or just generally.

But, of all people, his mind couldn’t process why you were requesting such a thing. You’re so small and fragile Nanami just about had to hold himself back every time you got intimate, scared that he’ll hurt you.

Thus, he gives it more thought. Or at least tries to.

But when you’re grinding so greedily on him, begging him in that sugary tone, Nanami can’t think straight. And in the midst of his seducted haze, he follows up with your words.

He ties your arms above your head with his silken and watches as you hopelessly struggle—feeling a primal need to breed you.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he coos as he presses the drooling head of his cock in, watching your face intently.

“Ken, you’re so thick—!” you whimper, mouth agape as he begins to drive thrust after thrust into your poor cunt. Truth be told Nanami liked having your hands tied, but he found himself missing the pleasurable pain of your fingernails scratching down his back.

You squeezed around him so deliciously, causing him to groan. Nanami felt hot inside you, the rhythmic thump of him pulsing one that you lost yourself to.

It all felt surreal, the pleasure, the frustration of not being able to freely touch him—but you knew one thing was certain.

This wouldn’t be the last time.

⟢ ⌒

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 scoffed as he looked down at you. “You wanna be tied up, huh?” he grinned, beckoning you to sit down on his lap.

Stupid as it seemed, his ego was hurt. Why would you need things to hold you down when his arms did just fine?

“Am I not rough enough with you, woman?” Sukuna questioned, his upper arms set on your waist while his lower ones made quick work of ripping your panties off in one fell swoop.

You flinched as you felt the material rip apart but keep your composure. “‘Kuna, I just wanna try something new..” you frowned as your arms wrapped around his neck.

“Oh, we’ll try it.” he hummed, your body jolting as you suddenly felt him press against your pussy. “Just my way.”

Sukuna soon had you crying and begging on his cock as you came for the third time that night, rasping lewd things in your ear.

Instead of a rope binding your arms behind your back, it was his strong hands. One of Sukuna’s hands could easily hold both of yours in a bruising grip.

“Ah, ‘m too sensitive, please,” you sobbed out, fat tears streaming down your cheeks as he reached down and began to rub your clit.

Sukuna laughed as he mockingly kissed your forehead. “Give me two more orgasms and I’ll think about it.”

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novulen · 30 days

Text

𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇 (𝐓𝐈𝐏)𝐒! — *:ꔫ:*

"Kento!" You call out as you hear the front door swing open after the telltale and familiar jingle of his keys. After aching to see your lover all day, you practically run up to him, arms acting on their own and nwrapping around his neck.

You take in his cedar wood cologne, basking in the comfort and relaxation the smell provides to your nerves. "I missed you."

Nanami drinks in the feeling of your soft body in his hold and smiles. "I missed you too."

After your mushy greetings, and a quick kiss, Nanami allows you to shrug off his suit jacket. Your touch has always been so soothing to him, but somehow, today, you seem to be catering to him more than usual.

Escorting him to the couch and having him sit down, Nanami's essentially putty in your delicate hands as you straddle his lap.

"Sweetheart, is there something you need to tell me?" he asks, catching on to your stratagem, tilting his head, amused.

In a feigned fit of hurt you gasp, clutching your chest dramatically. "Ken, how could you?!" you frown, sighing into the skin of his neck soon after, knowing he's caught you. Nanami doesn't say anything, his steady breathing fanning past your ear.

"Okay, well..." he fights to bite back his delight, his eyebrows raising as he listens. "I want to get a new set," you mumble, placing your manicured hand in his.

Nanami gazes down at the pink acrylic, with white French tips completed with bow charms, and hums. "What's wrong with these?" he questions, taking your dainty hand in his rougher one, and inspects your fingers closer, unable to find anything flawed with your current set.

"I just have something else in mind. And I promise once you see them, you'll get why." you pout, innocent eyes peering up at him with that look you know he can't refuse.

How could he ever possibly say no to that irresistible look--how could he ever say no to you?

Now having fell into your own trap, a noise of deep contemplation rumbles from Nanami's chest.

Hell, he has the money, why not?

"Alright. When do you need the money, love?" he questions, and Kento swears he can't hear his own thoughts with how loud you squeal in glee.

"Thank you, ken," you swoon, your eyes overtaking a lusty, familiar hue. His breath catches in his throat as you kiss him, completely under your spell as you yet again escort him to another place, this time, your shared bedroom.

"By Friday, baby."

Friday comes relatively smoothly. Nanami sends you the money--a hefty 350 for both your manicure and to get yourself something.

You get your nails done, and with every opportunity, hide them from him until the 'big moment'--or so you called it.

"Are you ready?" you ask, excited, as you hide your hands behind your back. Nanami sits on the bed, deliciously manspread, nodding along.

"Mhm.."

"Okay! Here it goes."

Slowly, you reveal your nails to him.

Utter silence takes over the bedroom.

You frown as you look at Nanami, an indifferent expression on his face. "You don't like them?"

He shakes his head. "No, I do. but they're just pink,"

And he's right, they're just pink. a brownish-blush pink acrylic—a color that oddly resembles the one of his tip.

"Well, yeah. That's the point, Ken." you smile, slowly advancing towards the blond sat on the bed. Placing yourself on his lap, you begin to speak again.

"doesn't this color seem...I don't know, familiar?" Your lips are now snaking up his neck, soft and plush. Nanami finds it hard to speak when you're on him like this, talking in that tone.

"I--" he stutters, attempting his best to inspect your fingertips. "No."

You giggle, a breathy laugh fanning across his skin.

Perhaps once you compare he’ll get it.

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mediaevalmusereads · 5 months

Text

Baking Yesteryear. By B. Dylan Hollis. DK, 2023.

Rating: 4/5 stars

Genre: cookbook

Series: N/A

Summary: A decade-by-decade cookbook that highlights the best (and a few of the worst) baking recipes from the 20th century

Friends of baking, are you sick and tired of making the same recipes again and again? Then look no further than this baking blast from the past, as B. Dylan Hollis highlights the most unique tasty treats of yesteryear.

Travel back in time on a delicious decade-by-decade jaunt as Dylan shows you how to bake vintage forgotten greats. With a big pinch of fun and a full cup of humor, you’ll be baking everything from Chocolate Potato Cake from the 1910s to Avocado Pie from the 1960s.

Dylan has baked hundreds of recipes from countless antique cookbooks and selected only the best for this bakebook, sharing the shining stars from each decade. And because some of the recipes Dylan shares on his wildly popular social media channels are spectacular failures, he’s thrown in a few of the most disastrously strange recipes for you to try if you dare.

***Full review below.***

Since this book is non-fiction, my review will be structured a little different from normal.

I've had this book for a while, but I didn't want to post a review before making a few of the recipes myself. I was already a fan of Hollis from his TikToks, so that might introduce some bias into my review - just so you're all aware.

Overall, I found this book to be quirky, easy to follow, and fun. I loved the bright colors and retro-feel to the photo shoots, and I appreciated that almost all of the recipes were accompanied by a picture of the thing you're supposed to be making. I also liked the blurbs written by Hollis himself; they very much felt like his voice, with his characteristic sense of humor balanced by his genuine love for baking and "old things."

Perhaps the most valuable part of this book, however, was the emphasis on lowering barriers to entry. I've read my fair share of baking guides that call for special ingredients or equipment, and there are a lot of recipes out there that are finicky and sure ton dissuade new bakers. Hollis's book, however, emphasizes that most (if not all) of these recipes can be done with basic tools - one does not even need an electric mixer (though it does make some recipes easier). There also aren't many fancy ingredients that aren't readily available at most grocery stores, so that also helps.

I do, however, have some minor criticisms which relate to the usability of this book. For one, the organization makes it rather difficult to find a specific recipe (or even category), particularly if you're like me and don't recall what decade it came from. While organizing the recipes by decade makes sense given the book's premise, it does make it more functionally difficult - you can't flip to the cake section, for example, and browse or put yourself within the general vicinity of the recipe you're looking for. Thus, readers will have to rely on either the TOC or the index a lot more, but this is a minor inconvenience rather than a huge drawback.

I also don't think the majority of the recipes are blow-your-mind good, but honestly, given this book's premise, I don't think that's the worst thing. The recipes are largely taken from sources aimed at home bakers, so you're not going to get professional-level pastries out of them. You will, however, get things that are fun and relatively simple to make, and they taste good enough to me that I'd consider making them multiple times.

TL;DR: Baking Yesteryear is a fine book for fans of Hollis's TikTok, but it goes beyond being mere merch. It not only provides historical recipes that are easy to replicate, but it also does a good job of lowering barriers to entry for new bakers. Experienced bakers might not be overly impressed by the recipes, but engaging with food history is a treat in and of itself, and it's delightful to see someone like Hollis engaging with the past with such enthusiasm and adoration.

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hannieehaee · 21 days

Note

Can you write something, anything, about woozi and his ass cuz that one clip of 96z shaking their ass has made me into a whole new person. Literally just Lee jihoon ass appreciation.

18+ / mdi

content: sub!woozi, afab reader, smut, reader is extremely horny and depraved, the word pretty is overused, body worship, woozi is thoroughly felt up (oops), dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 1139

a/n: U AND ME BOTH ANON

masterlist

"w-wait slow down."

these were a few of the last coherent words jihoon would let out that night.

or at least that was the plan. especially considering his egregious behavior mere hours ago.

you see, you knew your boyfriend's body like the back of your hand. you had kissed and worshiped every inch of his skin, leaving no part untouched at some point or other.

however, this past month, you had been unable to relish in the privilege that was to have lee jihoon's body at your utmost disposition. work had kept you away from him, leaving you sad and lonely and without his pretty body to gawk at for an entire month.

finally being back, you were slightly peeved off at knowing he'd have back to back concerts for a few days just on the week of your arrival, but it was fine! as long as you got to keep him to yourself afterwards, it was okay.

it was okay until it wasn't. until the moment you saw him step out on stage, tight button up on, blonde hair up in a bun, and the worst of all, the most fitting brown slacks you had ever seen on your boyfriend. the sight made you feel like a caveman, no coherent word leaving your mouth as you gawked at him like a piece of meat.

you watched as he swayed his hips, showing off every delicious curve of his body, taunting you without so much as realizing.

it had been an extraneous three hours (damn you, never ending aju nice) until you were able to get him in a car and back home.

the moment you stepped foot into your shared apartment was when you began your attack, pushing him up against the wall and shutting up any question leaving his mouth with your tongue down his throat.

your hands were frantic, feeling him up like you were starved for his touch – and you very much were. your wandering hands groped at every curve, swallowing every gasp of delight let out against your lips.

when you finally disconnected for some air, trailing your lips down to his neck, he gasped out his request to slow down, but you simply couldnt. you needed every inch of his body marked by your kiss, touched by your hand, licked by your tongue.

finally pulling away completely, you dragged him over to the couch, sitting him down and crawling your way on top of him after having carelessly discarded your clothes. he followed without instruction, throwing off his shirt and unbuttoning his pants, unable to get them all the way off as you sat on him.

your lips went back to his, hands still frantically feeling him up, scratching at the milky skin of his toned chest.

"so pretty, hoonie. fuck ... do you even know how gorgeous you are?", your lips trailed down to his chest, careless splotches of red left behind by your teeth as you marked your territory.

"prettiest thing ... looked so good on stage ... wanted to fuck you so bad," you groaned against his nipple, licking at it as he cried out above you.

"s-stop it," he complained, too shy to take your shameless praise.

"wanna see you, pretty. wanna see your gorgeous body, yeah? so fucking sexy ... make me feel like im losing my mind ..."

without even realizing it, your hips had begun grinding against his crotch, hands digging into his shoulders for support. his strong arms held your waist, helping you maintain your pace.

fuck, he was so meaty and strong. the thought alone made your eyes roll back.

despite the pleasure of his delicious cock dragging against your cunt, you needed to change positions. you couldnt ride him tonight. you needed to feel him up so more, up until getting your fill of him.

flipping him around (with his help ..), you laid on the couch, with him now above you. you bit your lip at the sight. his pretty hair was covering the sides of his face, making him look like an angel from above you. you voiced this compliment to him, making him scoff and scrunch up his nose in embarrassment.

"hoonie ... fuck, so fucking pretty and sexy. so obsessed with you ...", you groaned, hands reaching back to squeeze at his ass and drag him against you.

"no, i- fuck. you .. you're the pretty one, i-", he hiccuped opting to bury his face in your neck before you could see his reddened cheeks.

as embarrassed as he was at your blatant comments, he also relished in it, allowing you to touch him in such ways and even following the guidance of your movements as he ground against you, your hands still grasping harshly at his ass.

your hands went up and down the delicious arch of his back, groaning at the thought of how pretty he'd look on all fours for you, gorgeous body ready for you to do whatever you wanted to it.

but that would come some other day. right now you needed him to get his dick in you and make you lose all ability to think.

slipping inside you, he groaned against your ear, humping against you thoughtlessly. the contrast between the controlled movement of his hips on stage made you chuckle, enjoying how his desire would make him lose control so easily.

"feel so good, shit- you- love you," he murmured against you, "d-don't stop touching me ... love when you touch me ... when you love me like this."

your hands went even crazier at his admission, digging your nails into every bit of skin you could reach and dragging his hips towards you.

"my pretty boy ... body's so fucking gorgeous. and you're all mine? fuck ... prettiest little thing all mine ...", you gasped against his ear, making his pace go even faster at your endless praise. your hands never stopped feeling him up, dragging his toned body against your own as he showed the telltale signs of his orgasm.

with a high pitched whine, he came inside you, with you joining him right after. the sight of him alone had you pent up for hours, so cumming with him was an effortless task.

falling halfway on top of you, he cuddled against you, kissing at your neck before nuzzling into your hair.

"love you," he whispered.

"love you too, pretty," you whispered back, "but i'm not done with you yet ..."

the rest of the night was spent productively. your lips found every inch of skin on his body, leaving love bites on all your favorite parts. by the end of the night, his hips were unrecognizable with pretty red marks left by your lips. his chest and back were red due to all the grabbing your hands couldnt help themselves with. and jihoon? he was sleeping with a satisfied smile on his face.

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crystalflygeo · 11 months

Text

Sleepy n Drowsy Zhongli + fem!reader

cw/tags: somno, half-dragon zhongli, wet dream, humping, a bit of nipple play , touching over clothes, pet names.

notes: Dedicated to/Inspired by @moraxsthrone . Honestly at this point we're just going back and forth sharing the horny zl braincell inspiring each other to write stuff and I love it lmao. Thank you hun for being such a precious friend and feeding me geo daddy content ehe. This one is very soft and loving aaaaaaaa

You stir a little in bed, pulling tighter at the thick dragon tail you’re clinging to. Your breathing still soft and paused, still asleep despite your squirming. Zhongli shuffles a bit as well and pulls you close, pressing your back flush against his chest. You sigh.

“…li…” A mumble.

Zhongli nuzzles his face against your neck, purring softly as a hand smooths across your hip. Much to his surprise you buck forward only slightly, your little nightgown riding up leaving only the soft cotton of your panties to brush against his scales. Even in your sleep, you shiver.

His long tail curls around you both, going over his leg but right between yours, straddled by your soft thighs. You let out a little sound that has Zhongli blinking away any remaining sleep, before you start to move again a little, slowly back and forth, rubbing your core against his tail.

His eyes narrow and he lets out a small amused smile. Oh? Is his little mate humping his tail?

“…hah…”

As moments go by it becomes more and more obvious, you’re searching for that delicious friction, breathy sighs and little groans escaping your parted lips as your lower body twitches, subconsciously chasing pleasure though barely brushing your clothed pussy on his scales.

He takes notice of a subtle dampness and the faint scent of your arousal invades his senses.

What kind of husband would he be if he doesn’t help you out, right?

Your breath hitches as one of his hands lovingly cups your breast, massaging it softly before his thumb rolls at your nipple over the fabric of your nightgown. His tail presses a little more insistently between your legs, rocking softly in languid and slow strokes.

“Mmmngh…”

“Shhh darling, I’m right here.” He whispers against your skin, placing a kiss at you shoulder, a gentle calm to his touch and voice.

Another sigh and little whine from you as the dragon simply holds you there in his arms, nosing at the back of your neck and the top of your spine, his tail shivering slightly against you. His hand snakes under the silky fabric of your sleepwear and touches warm skin instead, rolling the perky nipple between thumb and index.

“Ahh..” Your brow furrows and you twitch and squirm. “…mmngh… m-more…” You murmur quietly, and Zhongli’s cock twitches in his pants.

Zhongli’s hand brushes past your stomach and your navel, fingers barely ghosting across your pussy as he pulls his tail away. Your head tips back and hips stutter forward when her circles your entrance through the cotton barrier, seeking out the warmth of his palm in a sleepy daze.

“Hmm… my love, so good to me.” He chuckles, the bleary sound permeating the thick air around you both. He nips at your neck, fangs barely brazing the skin as he teases you a little. The wet spot in your underwear growing noticeably larger and a soft keen leaves you when he brushes against your clit.

“Zhong… hnng”

He sighs deeply, rolling his hips to grind his bulge against your soft round ass. He groans at the feeling, deep and appreciative and your eyelids begin to flutter.

“Li…?”

“Hm? Finally awake my love?”

You tilt your head over your shoulder, drowsy, eyes half-lidded. “Mmhm… I was having a most delightful dream though...”

“I could tell.” He smiles back, effortlessly attractive in his disheveled dark locks, molten golden eyes, handsome features and deep hoarse voice. “Want to make it a reality?” His hand dips down your panties, barely brushing your slick folds.

A long low moan comes out before you can even register it, raw in it’s sheer need as your body shudders with desire. “Yes please Zhongli… breed me.”

Oh, his grip tightens and his pupils widen to serpentine slits. “As you wish…” His warm breath caresses your ear.

#zhongli smut #genshin smut #zhongli x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #zhongli x you #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact smut #crys writes #fem reader #gods I need this so bad pls I'm hnghgnghgngh #so soft so tender so hot #being surrounded by him waking up with his soft touches and deep voice #the dream //hit

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peachsayshi · 11 months

Note

How would your yandere version of gojo react to someone who’s being sneaky to reader? Or just to someone who constantly messes with her? Have a nice day btw

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ minors / ageless / blank blogs dni

gojo notices that you've been uncomfortable lately. he can't quite pinpoint what's bothering you, but he definitely can't keep ignoring the helpless look in your eyes.

"baby, what's wrong?" he asks one night.

you were peeling carrots, quietly preparing a delicious dinner to share with your lover. you started making these slow cooked meals about three weeks ago. comfort food, satoru thought to himself, but your dwindling enthusiasm over one of your favorite hobbies chips away at his heart.

you give him a small smile. "there's nothing wrong" you chirp, but your boyfriend grits his teeth at your pathetic lie.

you turn to glance back at the discarded orange ribbons, only to pause once again when you feel his large hand slowly caress the back of your palm.

"c'mon, you've got me all worried..." he insists, trying his best to reign in his frustration.

the front of your brows lift with concern, and he immediately leans forward to kiss away the tension. you breathe out a heavy sigh, carefully placing the peeler onto the cutting board before turning to face him. your fingers shake when you reach for the fabric of his shirt, and the pace of satoru's heart quickens at your odd behavior.

his mind runs rampant with the worst possible scenarios, but what he finally hears from you only fuels his anger.

he didn't know that you were being harassed by your new boss.

"he's just awful," you complain, shaking your head out of frustration, "he makes all these inappropriate comments, completely disregards any personal space that I have and leers every time I'm alone in the room with him. the whole thing makes me uncomfortable and I don't know what to do about it. I'm up for a promotion soon - I'm...worried if I say anything, then...then it might ruin everything I worked so hard for."

satoru's blood boils. his entire body feels unnaturally hot. he doesn't like that your voice sounds so small, so uncertain, and it blinds him with absolute rage.

the thought of another man having the audacity to ogle what belongs to him makes his stomach flip.

when your panicked eyes glances up at him from underneath your pretty lashes, is when he feels your grip tighten around his shirt.

"it's fine, satoru," you plea out of desperation, "I didn't want to tell because I don't want you to get upset about this. I'll be out of this department once I get my promotion. I just have to put up with his crap for a little while longer."

satoru doesn't have anything to say- he just stares at you with dead, cold eyes. his body is stiff when you stand on your tiptoes to brush your lips over his, and he only relaxes when he parts his lips to invite your tongue.

"you're not mad at me, are you?" you murmur, and he instantly shakes his head no.

"I'm just upset that you're having such a hard time," he exhales, and finds your waist to give you a reassuring squeeze. "I promise I'm not mad."

he eased your mind, however, it didn't stop the war waging inside his own.

unfortunately for him, he is still satoru gojo - the man has so much power and influence as the head of his clan, that he can't exactly just walk up to the piece of shit and knock his teeth out.

after all, he had to play by the rules of dealing with a non sorcerer.

one call to the ceo would easily solve the problem, but that option felt far too easy for him. instead, he spent every spare moment digging deep into the man who was stupid enough to fuck around with you. he gathered every ounce of information that he could find to potentially ruin his life, and then used it.

an envelope sent by an "anonymous" person was dropped off to your boss's home, revealing to his wife the series of texts between him and his many, many mistresses. satoru delighted in finding out that he was soon kicked out and living at a hotel.

that's when satoru began the fun little mind games. he would show up in the middle of the night knocking on the door of your boss's room before disappearing. he did it repeatedly for days, until the man began looking visibly distressed.

satoru would randomly appear at the foot of his bed, standing there like a ghost in the night until the man would wake up in sheer terror, but by the time the lights were on, the sorcerer had already vanished.

satoru would call him rat all hours but would never speak a word. he smiled with amusement when the man eventually broke down, begging to whoever it was on the receiving end to please leave him alone.

satoru would follow him from the office back to his hotel room every single night, keeping a safe distance to ensure he remained hidden in the shadows, all the while gleaming with pride as he watched the man shake with fear.

you were none the wiser to your boyfriends menacing shenanigans.

you came home one evening with a smile plastered on your face, a smile that satoru missed dearly, and he pretended to act pleasantly surprised.

"did you have a good day, angel?" he asks with a gentle kiss.

"I did actually!"

"that asshole isn't giving you a hard time anymore, right?" your boyfriend questions, embellishing his concern while feigning ignorance.

"actually, he backed off, but I definitely think it's because he's preoccupied with his upcoming divorce. he's been in really terrible shape lately..."

satoru shrugs his shoulders with indifference, "can't say I feel sorry for him..."

"I heard through the grapevine that he's submitted his resignation letter. although, it could just be petty office gossip..."

the corner of satoru's mouth twitches into a grin. he playfully taps the tip of your nose before leaning down to kiss your cheek. "well, all I can say is good fucking riddance."

please check pinned for requests x

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x female reader #gojo hcs #yandere gojo #jujutsu kaisen fan fiction #my yan gojo is not violent per se #but that man would mentally break someone and laugh about it #no one touches his baby girl >.<

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rushtoprove · 1 year

Text

a moment of weakness

pairing: aemond targaryen x wife!reader rating: general audiences word count: 2k+ summary: a disastrous turn of events in one of the crown's tournament's leaves the court fearful that prince aemond has lost his other eye. the prince is adamant no one shall gaze beneath his eye-patch, not even his darling wife. warnings: description of injury.

As you slowly gain consciousness, you couldn’t help the smile that danced upon your lips, taking satisfaction in the feeling of your whole-body aching in the most delightful way. You wanted to savour the moment for a few minutes, afraid that when you opened your eyes reality would ruin it, but when you felt a shift on the bed that you were sharing you couldn’t help letting your vision clear. And what a sight it was.

Aemond, your husband of now eight months, breathed peacefully as he slept facing you. His silver hair seemed to cover the entire pillowcase he rested upon, and you couldn’t help but shiver in delight over the way he had turned to face you in his sleep. You were close, the only thing separating yourselves was his hand that was lying carelessly atop his pillow, and you couldn’t help but reach out and gently touch his fingers. The love you had developed for the second-born Targaryen prince could often be overwhelming, leaving you breathless under his gaze but you revelled in it. Being forced into this marriage by your scheming families was frightening in the lead up, but a month into your marriage he had quietly sat by you in the library to ask of the book you were reading, and in return offered suggestions on what to read next. You listened as he explained his studies, and soon he would visit you every afternoon to go through his ancestor’s history together. You had become besotted.

However, you did not know if Aemond felt this way for you. He was kind enough, and quietly listened to whatever you talked about, but he never seems to open up about anything to you, nor did he show any physical affection towards you outside of your shared quarters. He would walk by your side, but at a distance, and he would follow you at banquets, but only for duty. He performed his acts as a husband dutifully, but you couldn’t help but ache for a more personal connection to him. Behind closed doors, however, he was an extraordinary lover, hence the delicious ache that you lay basking in. He was kind to you and treated you as if he had never held anything so perfect. The difference could sometimes make your head spin.

Caressing his fingers was not enough, so you moved to pepper gentle kisses from the tips of his fingers before allowing your lips to trail across the back of his hand. Aemond was quick to react even in his sleeping state and wrapped his arm around, dragging your body into his. Quickly wrapping yourself around him and lying your head a top his chest, you allowed yourself to enjoy the peacefulness of lying with your husband.

“I believe this to be the first time you have woken before me.” His voice was deep, still trying to truly leave his sleep, and you let your eyes flutter as he pressed a light kiss to the top of your head. Letting your fingers dance upon his torso, you slowly raised your head to stare at him. He was already looking at you with an eyebrow slightly raised and smile playing upon his lips.

“I’m nervous for today.” It came out a whisper, but Aemond simply laughed and let his hands fall to squeeze your hips. You went to protest against him, but he quickly captured your lips with his and you were silenced.

“You have no need to worry. You know I am well-trained with a sword.” You went to reach up and cup his face, but you forgot yourself. The moment your hand hovered above the eye-patch he had taken to wearing even in your bed, you felt his whole-body flinch beneath yours. You knew from how tense his body became that it would be the end of your loving morning.

“Aemond...” But he was already moving, and you let yourself roll to the side and watch in sorrow as he sat on the edge of the bed, quickly pulling on the pants he had discarded so quickly the night before. The loss of his eyes was a harrowing experience for him as a child, and you had been warned that not one person had been allowed to gaze upon what is left beneath his eye patch since then. One night you had suggested he remove it to sleep, convinced it would be extremely uncomfortable. He had the left the bed and not returned to it for two days. Not letting the moment go so easy, and not ready for another bout of sleeping alone, you quickly rushed forward and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your bare body to his back.

“Please be careful today. You know how dangerous these stupid tournaments can get. I will require you back in my bed tonight in pristine condition.” Today a tournament was being held to celebrate Prince Aegon’s twenty-second name day, and Alicent had pushed for her second son to enter. The words duty and show of strength were included in the order.

“Well, I shall have to be extra careful as my wife will not be there to bestow her favour upon me.” He was back to you, and his teasing voice instantly softened you. Burying your face into his neck you gave him a quick kiss.

“You know I wish to be there, but Helaena says she needs me in her quarters in case the babe decides to come today.”

“It is not due for another two moons.” But you knew he understood. Bundling up the sheets to wrap around your figure, you quickly moved to your discarded dress from the festivities of last night and began tugging out the strip of green silk that lined the top of the corset. It was long enough to do the job, but small enough for Aemond to hide beneath his armour. Once it was in your hand you moved back to your husband and climbed onto his lap with a smile.

“Here. You will always have my favour.” You tucked it into the pocket of his pants, before squealing with delight as he threw you onto the bed and climbed his way up your body.

“Hmm.” He hummed before moving his lips to attack your collarbone.

“My warrior.” You teased and laughed as you felt him softly bite down. You moved your fingers to entwine into his hair and yet again found yourself relishing being in his company.

“My prince...” You almost screamed as the door swung open and a flurry of servants entered the room. You were grateful as Aemond moved to hide you beneath the blankets of his bed.

“What is the meaning of this?” He growled and you noticed a few stopped uneasily at his rage. He had made it clear that he was never to be interrupted this way long ago, but when Alicent rounded the corner and began pulling back the blinds, the young couple knew they had no choice.

“You are late. I explicitly told you to be ready at breakfast. Your match is in one hour. Hello dear Y/N.” You dumbly waved from beneath the sheets before cowering even further down, though no one seemed to be paying attention to you. Aemond quickly reached beneath the sheets and squeezed your knee. Pulling on a shirt that was being handed towards him, Aemond stood tall as he moved to the door.

“I will ready myself in the other room. Please allow my wife privacy.” The servants flurried out in a rush and Aemond stood at the door waiting for the room to be empty then turned back to look upon you once more.

“Please be careful Aemond.” Your voice was soft, trying to hide the desperation you felt. But you seemed to find it impossible to hide anything from your husband, and he quickly closed the door and kneeled beside the bed. You rolled to face him, as he leant down and pressed a quick kiss to your forehead.

“I will come back to you in one piece my wife. Today is nothing more than child’s play. I shall find you in Helaena’s rooms straight after.”

+++

“Princess Y/N, Prince Aemond has been in an accident.” The maid had no time to explain the details before you were running toward his room. You had spent hours cuddled up beside Helaena, reading and soothing her pregnancy aches, but the moment a maid had burst into the room, flustered and out of breath, you knew something had gone wrong.

“What happened?” You did not stop running as you questioned her, and instead lifted your skirts and accelerated your pace.

“The prince was fighting some Baratheon cousin and the prince won the sword fight. He was crowned victor, but the warrior became enraged at losing and tried to take out his other eye while Prince Aemond kneeled to the King.”

“The bastard!” You spat the words out and kept running, ignoring the pain in your chest from shortness of breath. The run felt like years but when you spun around the corner to his rooms, you cried out for all those who gathered in the hall to make way for you. It seemed every lord in the kingdom was standing outside Aemond’s door, awaiting news.

“Make way for the princess!” You heard Sir Criston order and the sea of people quickly parted, letting you rush forward. He quickly opened the door to allow you to enter before closing it to stop any of the courtiers catching a glimpse of your husband in his weakened state.

“You must let him see Aemond!” Alicent was crying as she reached towards her son but jumped in fright as Aemond quickly stood and backed away in rage. His eye remained in perfect condition, but you could have screamed at the sight of blood running through the fingers he held where his eyepatch was usually strapped upon.

“Aemond.” You cried, stumbling towards him. He seemed to move towards you, before tensing up and shaking his head. You did not miss the distress on his face.

“Leave! Get her out of here! All of you get out of here!” His voice was loud and you and many others in the room flinched at the noise.

“Prince Aemond I must be allowed to access your eye!” The maester begged but Aemond silenced him with an animalistic snarl.

“If you cunts do not leave me right now, I swear to the gods that everyone shall know the pain of losing an eye!” His eye was widened, and his pupil dilated like a wild beast. His gaze flickered between every person in the room, desperate to make sure no one moved towards him. All you could focus on was the constant stream of blood oozing from between his fingers.

“Out.” You choked out the word and everyone turned their startled gaze to you, but your eyes did not leave your husband once.

“Princess I must...”

“OUT!” You screamed the order, cutting off the maester and glared at everyone. They reluctantly moved away and Alicent quickly squeezed your hand before making sure she was the last person to depart, leaving you alone with Aemond.

“You leave too.” He growled but you simply moved to near him. Aemond backed off, startled by your movements and your heart broke. You couldn’t imagine how traumatic this moment must be, and the memories it has brought back upon him.

“Lay in bed Aemond.”

“Get out!”

“You promised you would return to our bed and gods help me Aemond if you do not lay down, I shall find a way to make you.” Neither of you could look away from each other, your chests heaving in sync as he stood in defiance.

“Y/N...”

“Please Aemond. Please.” You begged for his co-operation, hoping that he would see the tears beginning to fall and would help put you out of your distress. It was a shock when it seemed to work, and you quickly moved to help your husband cautiously lower himself to lay upon his bed.

“I do not want you to look.” He whispered it as his eye closed in sorrow and you watched as a single tear escaped and mixed with the blood pooling from his empty eye socket.

“I am your wife Aemond. I shall look, and I shall care for you. It is my duty.”

“You are too kind to be forced into this marriage. It should not be your duty to look upon such horror. I do not wish it. I do not wish for you to see the ugliness of my scars.” He would not open his eye as he confessed it, but you clasped your hand tightly around his and pressed a long kiss to it.

“My love. My Aemond. How have you not noticed? This marriage has been long past duty for me. I have loved you for a long time now husband.” His breath quivered at your confession, and when he opened his eye, he cried out at the sight of your hands reaching for his eyepatch.

“My love... I hope you know it is the same for me. You have enraptured me, enchanted me, enslaved me. I am yours. Only yours.” His hands shook as he took the turn to clasp your hands and press a kiss to it. There was nothing to say between you, it was a confession that you had both been waiting for. Instead, you let your hands move back to the job at hand. You were slow and delicate as you unclasped the eyepatch and were tender in your gaze once it was finally removed. You hid your shock at the sapphire that was burrowed snugly between the torn skin around his eye and let yourself lean close to inspect the damage the foolish knight had inflicted.

“The cut is not deep. It has just opened a small section of your scarring around your top eyelid, but the main gash is above where your patch sits. It is something I shall be able to fix.” You whispered as you allowed your fingers to trace the faded scars that littered his eye. He shivered under your touch and reached out to hold onto you as you looked upon his shame.

“The fool went for an eye already missing.” He breathed out a laugh and you filled with rage at the thought of the idiot contender.

“I shall kill him with my bare hands.” You snapped but Aemond let out his first real laugh.

“Do you truly believe I would have allowed that cunt to live after what he did to me dear wife?”

#aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen #hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #aemond fic #aemond x y/n #aemond fanfiction

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abibliophobiaa · 1 year

Text

Love You to Death

vampire!eddie munson x f!reader. 18+ only, because it’s 3.5k words and 95% smut. little bit of praise; blood; mutual blood drinking; blood kink. basically vampire eddie has sex with you in the bathroom at the harrington’s house on halloween - that’s it, that’s the plot. thank you @myosotisa for the beta read and your lovely, delicious suggestions, and @blue-mossbird and @fracturedarkness for the brainstorm sessions to tap into those sultry/ sexy vampire feels.

He’d been visibly hungry all night. Veins like little lightning bolts crawled down onto his cheekbones, shadows striking against pale skin. Those dark eyes of his scanned around the room, focused on the throb of the vein in a human’s neck he knew he could draw from to satisfy that animalistic craving…and yet he never would.

That was reserved for you—only you.

You, however, had a certain craving for something else. The two of you already showed up late after he wrecked you earlier that night before the party, fingers pumping hot and dirty into your center as he held your back flush against his chest, your shared bedroom filled with the sounds of your slick and the slow drag of your blood from your neck.

It wasn’t enough. The heady high of your blood letting had barely started to settle in, your neck only punctured just enough for your costume, a mere sampling of what he’d wanted to savor later. He’d promised as much; promised that once you got home he’d take his time with positively wrecking you. Images of your bodies twining conjured in your mind, thoughts of his teeth sinking into your flesh and your thoughts and minds becoming one. Intimate in a way you’d never be with anyone else but him.

But you were growing impatient with him.

And maybe you’d purposefully stared at him from across the room all night, your mind faraway even as the other guests at the party commented on how realistic Eddie’s and your costumes were, both of you dressed as creatures of the night. Him, wearing your blood on his lips and chin and you with his teeth marks in your flesh, dried droplets of blood clinging to skin. Him in his leather jacket and leather pants, chains flush against a dark tee shirt, those sharp fangs of his a mirror to the fake ones you’d worn in your own mouth, and you in your black shirt tucked within a bloodied plaid skirt, tights sliding against your thighs, hidden beneath the leather of your boots.

Maybe you’d pouted when he’d given Steve and Robin the attention you’d been craving from him for the duration of the party. Maybe you leaned into him near the snack table and, hidden from the eyes of your friends, slid a palm along the flesh of his abdomen, looking up at him with a delighted smirk on your lips that showed your false fangs when he jolted at your touch.

And maybe, just maybe, he wanted exactly the same as you did.

You confirmed as much when his eyes had met yours as you passed that darkened hallway in the Harrington home, finger raising and curling in your direction. A ‘come hither’ you could only obey, body nearly melting into his as you tossed your fake teeth across the room and sunk into the shadows.

“Fuck. Couldn’t wait till we got home, could you, huh?” He lets out a delighted chuckle at your scowl. “You look so fuckin’ hot, baby.”

His voice is rough and gravelly, eyes impossibly wicked as they clash with yours in the dimly lit bathroom. The door slams behind you. Eddie’s barely able to lock the door before you’re on him once more, clutching at the leather of his jacket, lips claiming his own. It’s a wet slide of lips, teeth and skin. His broad arms come to wind around your hips as he walks you backward, hips bumping against the corner of the countertop.

“So fuckin’ pretty walking around with my bite marks on your neck,” he groans, leaning down to kiss you softly. A peck against skin as those dark eyes meet yours. “Knowing I put them there. Thinkin’ about how sweet you taste.”

Shaky fingers move to grip at his belt, the sound of tinkling metal greeting your ears. You fumble in your rush of desire, frustration building in the spaces between you as he hastily replaces your fingers with his own. It’s a swift shuffle of leather down his hips, material pooling messily at his ankles. He’s grabbing at the soft of your hips once again a moment later, and whirling you around to face the mirror behind you.

Your hands slap against the cool countertop, gasp breaking off into a moan as Eddie’s hips press flush against your ass, the heat of his need for you burning into warm flesh. You can feel the thick, hard outline of him through his boxers, shuddering breath breaking off into a pitiful mewl as he rocks into you and chuckles darkly.

His face curls over your shoulder to rest near your ear, voice practically a purr as he whispers, “Tell me what you want, baby.”

“Want you to fuck me, Eddie. Been wanting you all night.”

And it’s true.

With his heightened senses he’s more attuned to you. At first, when he’d told you of his vampirism, it had understandably nerved you. But now there’s only the thrill in knowing he’s always eager to satisfy when your carnal hunger arises. Even now, even in the confines of this bathroom, he wastes no time in doing so.

Those dexterous hands you’ve seen strum away at countless Corroded Coffin concerts now clutch at your plaid skirt covered in fake blood, hiking it high up over your back. Your torso hinges forward when a warm hand comes to slide along the trail of your spine, and then lower still to cup the curve of your backside lovingly.

That hand drags downward, the bite of his ringed fingers warm as they grip tight around the flesh of your thigh, tugging you closer to him before tearing straight through the crotch of your tights. The whine you let out is pitiful, a softly broken thing, as his other hand comes to push aside your underwear to slide against the slick pooling between your thighs. You instinctively arch against him, head bowing low when a finger slides in to up the knuckle, drawing a slow circle into your center.

“So wet already, baby,” he murmurs, his other hand cupping your thigh tighter where it presently rests. “So needy for me all night. I could smell it on you. Wanted to get my mouth on you.”

“Don’t be—cruel.” Your words catch in your throat at the stretch of his second finger, heart hammering within your chest as you involuntarily clench around him. “You started this.”

“I guess I did.”

You can hear the smirk in his voice as those fingers slide free from you. “Gonna have to be quiet for me. Don’t want Harrington to come knocking on the door. Think you can do that?”

You nod your head frantically. “Ed, please.”

He’s grinning to himself over your shoulder in the reflective surface of the mirror, a little smug, fingers reaching up to tie his hair into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. “Always so noisy for me, but you’ll be a good girl, won’t you?” The light catches on the dangling earrings in his ears, little skulls bobbing as he shifts closer to your form. Your thighs clench tighter, your head nodding rapidly, knowing his sole intent is now on making sure your toes crawl within your boots until you’re spent and the both of you sated.

You watch in the reflection as Eddie reaches down to free himself from his boxers, cock slapping up against his stomach. The fullness of your bottom lip pinches between your teeth, your chest heaving as his form shadows your own and he lines himself with your entrance, kissing your spine once, twice, wasting no time sliding in.

You both swear out on your joint exhale, the stretch of him even after all this time delicious. Those first few pumps of his hips against yours always snatch your breath free from your lungs, thighs quivering beneath the weight of the intensity of him inside you, full to the brim like it’s where he’s always meant to be.

Your head drops forward, mouth pressing against the sleeve of your sweater to muffle your sounds as he obliges your soft pleas of ‘faster, Eddie’ and roughly plunges into you from behind, the sound of your wetness soaking his cock and the lewd sounds of skin hitting skin filling the room. The booming bass downstairs does little to quiet those little moans that spill from your lips, plucked from you with each hard snap of his hips.

It’s almost cruel, really, when he stills suddenly. His mouth brushes your earlobe, his cock still pulsing inside of you, your impatience driving your ass back against him to seek that delicious drag of him within your inner walls. He tuts and curls his arm around your hips, freezing you in place, robbing you of the friction you so desperately crave. “Shh. Someone’s coming down the hall.”

His arm releases from around you, fingers trailing up along your abdomen, higher still across your breast, giving your flesh a soft squeeze, before those calloused fingers settle over your mouth. Your breath fans out, hot and frantic against his palm.

There’s suddenly a knock on the other side of the door, body rigid within the cage of Eddie’s arms as Nancy’s frustrated huff calls out, “Is anyone in there?”

Your cunt flutters around him, drawing a stuttered breath from the man behind you. Nervousness and a darker thrill of excitement pools in your belly at the prospect of being caught in such a compromising position, knowing exactly what they’d see if the door hadn’t already been locked. You, eyes blown out, cheeks flushed, skirt up indecently about your hips, and Eddie buried to the hilt within you, flush against your form.

Suddenly, and so very unexpectedly, Eddie’s hips start to move again, a slow roll up into you—into that elusive spot he’s become a master at finding, your eyes nearly rolling into the back of your skull. He finally shouts, “Gonna need a bit, Nancy Drew. Harrington’s shitty food. You know the deal.”

“Eddie! I didn’t want to know!” She slaps her palm against the door. Your eyes pinch shut as Eddie’s free hand slides between your thighs, fingers rubbing slow circles into the sensitive bead of your clit. “Have you seen Y/n, by the way? Robin wanted her as a partner for beer pong. She asked me to ask you.”

The slow, torturous pace of his cock impossibly deep within you, paired with the brushing of his fingers against your clit has you biting into his hand hard—hard enough to puncture flesh. A dark, satisfied growl builds in his throat, palm pulling back enough to take you in, eyes blown out, his blood like rubies glistening on your lips. That growl only deepens as your eyes meet, hot and heavy, his eyes nearly black now. Your tongue slides hesitant across your bottom lip, mixing his blood with your spit; rich, viscous and earthy. Unusual, unfamiliar—and yet the forbiddenness of it, the utter sinfulness of him filling your mouth has heat traveling to your core, not unnoticed by your boyfriend. The corner of his lip curls into a devastating smirk at the sight, a flash of white teeth catching your gaze as he lowers his face toward yours, lips merely centimeters apart. Your eyes flutter shut in anticipation of a kiss that never comes. Instead, that often skillful tongue of his swipes a long line across your mouth, head tipping back to take in his work. Satisfied, he drags his thumb along the remnants of his blood on your bottom lip in a crude line down your chin.

Wild. You both look utterly wild, but it only heightens your arousal, drives your need for him to burn hotter.

There’s another knock at the door just as your hand reaches behind you to curl in his hair and tugs at his ponytail until his nose nudges at the corner of your ear. You can practically feel his grin unfurling against your skin, eyes pricking as his lips skirt lower, closer to your pulse point. He laves his tongue over your throat, knowing exactly what you want—what you need from him…what you’ve been aiming for from the moment you left your apartment earlier that evening.

He manages out, “Nance, a minute please?” against that place in your neck that pounds frantically against the surface, straining so violently you’re certain it might burst. He waits a moment before those elongated canines graze against your warmth.

“Fine! But if you see her, let her know she’s needed.” She’s silent for a moment, huffing out, “I thought you said you didn’t eat eat anymore!” He doesn’t, not always because it tastes like ash on his tongue, but he needs the excuse now.

You vaguely recognize the sound of footsteps trailing back from where she came down the hall. Once she’s gone, Eddie’s practically humming with need. A low sound builds in the back of his throat, a sinful purr that has your back arching against his chest, heart pounding as his pace shifts into something frantic. Nearly animalistic. Hips harsh and unyielding against your own, the fingers once circling your clit now moving to grapple your hip with an uncharacteristic disregard that you’re certain he’ll leave bruises for you to discover in the morning. The other palm moves back over your mouth, muffling your cries as he bullies your cunt.

“You liked that. My messy girl,” he murmurs, nudging one thigh to open you further to him, rutting mercilessly against that part of you that has you already seeing flashes of white behind your eyes. “Liked tasting my blood.”

It’s not a question. You did. You really did.

“Liked the thought of being caught by Nancy. I could feel you. Could practically taste it. Wanting our friends to know what we got up to—wanting them to know I fucked you over this counter while they’re only feet away from us.”

“I do,” you gasp out, desperately chasing that peak, wanting more, always more. “I do, Ed.”

“Wanted me to mark you right there while she was on the other side of the door.” His mouth trails lower down the side of your throat, nosing along the curve of your heated skin, your head moving to the side just enough to bare yourself to him fully. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes.”

It’s no more than a breathy gasp that falls from you.

“Please, mark me.”

You whimper at the delightful drag of needle-point teeth dancing along flesh.

“Make me yours.”

It’s all you can muster as his teeth sink down, mouth closing over your pulse, and your head tips back against his chest.

Bloodletting, which had started as a way for him to feed while he was on tour and blood bags were limited, turned into something you both relished. The combination of his mind and essence lashing against your own, mingling in the spaces between each of your heartbeats was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before.

Even now, the groan he lets out on that first pull of your blood hits his tongue has your head spinning, his hand around your hip gripping you tighter if only to keep you tethered to the earth. Like this, with his mouth pulling your essence into him, and the sounds he makes deep within his chest as he drinks from you, your mind empties. There’s only you and him and the delicious warmth that oozes like honey into your blood system as you spill against his open mouth, your heart pounding in every inch of your body. It drives him to fuck into you harder; frenetic, fleshy smacks of his skin against yours, the feral rumbling from somewhere deep within him vibrating against your back, your pussy stuffed full of him, your wetness soaking his cock, those moist swallows of your liquid life fueling him.

It’s too much. Always too much, and still somehow never enough.

“Oh shit, Ed I’m—” You manage to gasp out, his hips moving in tandem with the slow tugs of your blood into his mouth, heat coiling in your belly, burning bright behind your eyes. “So close—fuckfuckfuck—”

His mouth pops free from your neck with an amused chuckle, teeth and chin stained dark red and full of you. His hand slides from your mouth and curls around your chin, dragging his nose down the line of yours, eyes locked on your own, lips nearly brushing yours and staining them red as he whispers, “Let go for me, sweetheart. Wanna watch you fall apart around my cock.”

You cum harder than you ever have with a loud cry that he fails to muffle. Stinging tears flood your eyes. Electricity dances to life along every nerve ending. And he’s falling out of rhythm as his own release races up to slam into him, mouth biting down at the juncture of your shoulder, canines piercing your skin, groans of ecstasy hot and heavy against your skin as he spills into you.

Your legs quiver from blood loss and remnants of your orgasm, body humming as he leans down to brush his lips softly against your shoulder, chest heaving hard against your back. He slides out of you gently, letting your skirt drop back down around your thighs, those solid arms of his turning you in a slow circle to help you settle down on the edge of the shower. He quickly tucks himself back into his boxers and tugs on his pants, his form dropping down in front of you once his belt is buckled. You smile softly at the palm that moves to slide up and along your thigh. This part, the drop that comes after, has you resting your forehead against his, smiling up at him through your hazy, unfocused gaze.

“There’s my girl,” he coos, thumb brushing at the corner of your lips. He parts from you briefly to grab a cup from the medicine cabinet, pouring tap water into the plastic container, before dropping down in front of you. Your fingers reach out to grasp, lips curling over the edge and sipping slowly. “Deep breaths. I didn’t take too much, did I?”

You shouldn’t want it. You know you shouldn’t. Shouldn’t want to know what you taste like against his lips. Shouldn’t want the messy, dirty slide of your blood mixing with his. Yet your hand curls around his neck all the same, dragging his mouth roughly against yours, tongues swirling together in a filthy tangle. While Eddie is rich and earthy, smokey and utterly decadent, you’re bitter and acrid, metallic and human. Yet he licks it up, licks into you like he could never get enough, well past when you both should be pushing your way out of the bathroom.

“I love you,” he purrs against your lips, giving them one last brush just as another knock sounds from the wooden door.

“Eddie, my dude, are you almost done? Gotta pee something fierce.” It’s Argyle this time.

Eddie helps you up onto wobbly feet. “Yeah, man. Be right out,” he says, unlocking the door. It swings open to reveal your newest friend in the group, his eyes widening at the sight of the two of you. “She came to check on me. Harrington’s food, am I right?”

Argyle’s hand raises to the general area of his face, palm circling around in front of him. “That blood looks real real, my dudes.”

You smirk, and Eddie catches it, that rumble in his chest vibrating against your shoulder where it brushes his. Eddie grins. “We wanted to make sure it looked as realistic as possible.” He pauses, looping an arm around your shoulders. “The porcelain throne is all yours, buddy.”

Argyle chuckles nervously and shifts past the two of you, your feet carrying you down into the main room where the party is still raging on. Steve and Robin catch your gaze as you appear at the bottom of the stairs, Steve commenting on your enhanced costumes as Robin sadly pouts when Eddie pats his stomach and says he wants to get home as soon as possible.

“Didn’t know you could… get sick,” Robin mutters under her breath, hugging him goodbye before coming to loop her arms around your neck and wish you well.

You bid the rest of your friends goodnight, passing curious onlookers trying to catch sight of the two oddly realistic vampire costumes as you make your way to the front door and into the fall air. Once buckled up inside Eddie’s van, his mouth dips back down to yours over the center console, fingers coming to curl around your thigh. “Can’t wait to get you home.”

You hum pleasantly, thumb dragging along his chin, along the dark, wine-colored droplets that are starting to dry against his skin. “And why might that be?”

“Because as soon as we walk in that door I want to make you fall apart against my mouth. Want to devour you.”

And oh does he. You didn’t think he could get more desperate to taste you, but something about having your blood mixed with your slick turns him into something else entirely. A something you’re all too happy to goad further—until you’re both panting, bloody, and utterly spent.

(my line of defense against readmore)

#eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagines #vampire!eddie munson x you #vampire!eddie munson x reader #vampire!eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff

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merakiui · 2 months

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AAAAA ok so. You're one of my favorite authors here on Tumblr and slkssnlssksn I'm so nervous waaaa thanks for taking your time to brainrot with us <3 I'm in love with your writing and your delicious concepts and how you execute them oh god and when you write about stinky greasy incel Idia OK I'm gonna stop and actually order aaa

Can I please get assorted macaroons with a lacy lingerie along with a hint of sea salt caramels and a finishing touch of a pineapple parfait with Floyd and Jade, together? Something sweet and cute but with a lingering feeling of uneasiness <3 Hope it's well-ordered! Please and thank you very much!! 🥹

yandere!jade leech x (gender neutral) reader x yandere!floyd leech cw: yandere, unhealthy relationship/behaviors, drugging, implied captivity, brief mentions of implied nsfw, obsession note - thank you for checking in, dearest guest! enjoy your order! [lunar love hotel]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ᴊᴀᴅᴇ ʟᴇᴇᴄʜ & ꜰʟᴏʏᴅ ʟᴇᴇᴄʜ

☆ Your “wedding” was unofficial, a quiet ceremony without an audience. Jade dressed you for the occasion, prettying you up as if you were a doll. You certainly felt so as you watched your reflection in the mirror, drifting in and out of a daze. Floyd poked at your shoulder to rouse you, giggling about his “sweet, sleepy Shrimpy.” When the wedding bands were slid on your ring fingers—the left for Floyd and the right for Jade—it became official. They kissed you on both cheeks and promised you a future filled with love and happiness. You couldn’t protest; there was no room for such a thing, not when Floyd’s mouth was already closing over yours.

☆ The first five days are for Floyd, and the next five will be Jade’s. They planned it together, all with your and their shared interests in mind. The first five days of your honeymoon are spent at a tropical resort. You delight in local cuisine and beautiful sights, allowing the twins to hold your hands while you walk between them. They spoil you rotten, buying all sorts of clothes and jewelry to add to your wardrobe, trinkets that catch your eye, sweets you seem to fancy. Money has never been an issue, which is why everything feels so grand and lavish. You’re taken to the beach, to a quiet, desolate strip that few tourists know of. Towels are laid out; an umbrella is propped. Floyd drags you towards the sea, eager to shed his human form and swim with you. Jade reads in the shade, occasionally glancing up from his book to watch you.

☆ As the sun shifts through the sky, you tire yourself out. Between swimming with Floyd, sunbathing alongside Jade, and indulging in a picnic with both, you’re plenty sluggish by the day’s end. They snap your picture just as you feel yourself falling, giggling to each other about how cute you look. The twins intend to capture many of your best (and possibly worst) moments during the entirety of this honeymoon. When the secret contents of your lunch catch up to you and render you sleepy, you assume it’s just the result of a long day sapping your energy. It makes you pliable, has you dragging them into bed when you’re oscillating between slumber and wakefulness. The camera shutters, capturing you curled up against Floyd in bed—perfectly, peacefully asleep.

☆ The twins take turns cooking for you. Mornings are for Floyd. He prepares all types of breakfasts, all with your favorites. You think he has too much fun in the kitchen because some meals are decorated cutely—pancakes looking like cats and bears and fruit cut into stars and hearts. Jade takes care of lunch and snacks throughout the day. They work together on dinner. It’s a guarantee that you’ll always feast on delicious meals regardless of which twin cooks. Strangely, the meals are so delicious that they leave you sleepy or, in some cases, achingly hot. The twins take good care of you whenever this happens. Maybe something just didn’t agree with your stomach… It’s nothing to worry about. They’re here for you.

☆ As the days wear on, you find yourself swamped in love. Whether you’re enjoying mornings down at the beach, exploring and shopping in town, touring popular destinations, or enjoying drinks on the balcony at sunset, the twins are always by your side. Floyd clings, his arm perpetually wrapped around your waist. Jade likes to slide his hand into yours, holding it with such a gentle fondness. He kisses your knuckles softly, eyeing the rings on your fingers with a pleased smile.

☆ Jade booked quite the quaint cabin for his half of the honeymoon. For the next five days, the three of you will see endless, sprawling pines from your spot in the mountains. He’s got a vague itinerary in mind, but it’s subject to change as you get through these five days. Surprises are more than welcome. The cabin is so cozy, equipped with all the necessities for a trip such as this one. It even has a fireplace. Jade is much too eager to gather and chop firewood even though it’s already supplied.

☆ He takes you out on hikes through the woods, pointing out flora and fauna as you encounter them. His eyes are sparkling the entire time. Floyd’s not as into it as Jade is, but he does enjoy walking alongside you and taking pictures of your most candid moments. You’ve been feeling groggy ever since breakfast, so you’re not nearly as alert as you usually are. Floyd takes this as his opportunity to snap your photo when you least expect it and to steal quick kisses. Jade thinks it’s so cute that you can hardly keep your eyes open. He promises the lot of you will turn around and head back after he gathers just a few more mushrooms for tonight’s dinner. You’re lying down for a nap by the time you make it back, the sun dipping below the horizon. You think you feel the bed depressing under Jade’s weight, his hands ghosting over your clothes to help change you into something comfortable. You let it happen.

☆ This place is oddly isolated. The locals are sweet, though. When Jade tells them you’re here on honeymoon, they all smile and tell you to have fun, to enjoy these special moments, to feel lucky that you have two husbands who adore you so very much. You thank them with a pleasant smile. Jade and Floyd keep their hands on you beneath the table during lunch. Even if you wanted to say something, you couldn’t. They make sure of that. And if you seem paranoid, they wave it off casually. Jade tells anyone who asks that you just love the variety of mushrooms here, especially the fun kinds. You’re not sure what he means until much later when you’ve digested your meal and your vision blurs. Jade’s there to steady you before you can fall over, petting your head in that affectionate way and cooing at you to calm down. It’s your honeymoon. You deserve to relax. His sharp, overly sweet smile is all you see in your dreams.

☆ Honeymoons are especially exciting because they come with amenities fitting for the occasion. A complimentary bottle of wine, luxury chocolates, condoms… Floyd tosses that last one aside. You won’t need them. If you insist on using protection for whatever reason, Jade will ease your worries with a placid smile. He’ll indulge your request. He wears one, yes, but then it’s not a guarantee that this one hasn’t been tampered with in some way. You’ll never know. Floyd’s a bit more difficult to convince. He adores cumming inside and then felching it out of your slick hole. You shiver through it all, clawing at the sheets as you melt beneath them. Your husbands pamper you excessively, so don’t think about anything and just enjoy yourself.

☆ The mountains are peaceful. Unlike the tropical paradise you previously came from, things are slower here. You enjoy watching the sunrise cut through the trees in the mornings, sitting at the window with Jade and Floyd. You sleep late into the afternoon, sandwiched between both of them. Floyd’s an early riser, so breakfast is always waiting for you when you and Jade eventually wake. It’s quiet bliss. You sit and sketch nature alongside Jade in the afternoon, who adores every little line you make with your pencil. He tells you so, leaning in to kiss the corner of your mouth when you pout and insist his is better. There’s no competition here, and even if there was he will always love yours more. When night falls Floyd prepares a campfire. You roast marshmallows for s’mores. Floyd dances around the firepit, singing gleefully and pulling you up from the log to dance alongside him. Firelight reflects off of your rings. It’s a wonderful honeymoon.

#yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere jade leech #yandere jade leech x reader #yandere jade x reader #yandere jade #yandere floyd leech #yandere floyd x reader #yandere floyd #tw: drugging #lunar love hotel 2023

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