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lxndonorris · 1 month

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Chocolate- Charles Leclerc

Y/N x Charles Leclerc Theme: Smutish, Teasing, light touching Charles is your best friend and you're joining him in Australia. However, Pierre pranks the two of you with some spicy chocolate x word count: 1930+ taglist: @game-set-canet mentions of Pierre :P requested by anon :) feel free to request in my askbox gif by me

The scorching Australian sun beats down on the bustling Melbourne Grand Prix Circuit, where the roar of Formula 1 engines fills the air. Among the throngs of racing enthusiasts, you stand nervously, your heart pounding with excitement. Charles, your best friend and Ferrari's star driver, invited you to spend the weekend with him at the track, a dream come true for any racing fan.

As you stand inside the Ferrari garage, Charles flashes you a mischievous grin. "Ready to cheer for me?" he asks, his eyes sparkling brightly.

"Absolutely," you reply, barely able to contain a giggle. "I can't thank you enough for this opportunity, Charles."

"That's what friends are for, right?" He says, running a hand across his chest to button up his racing suit, getting ready to jump into his race car.

He zooms out of the garage and onto the track, while you watch the screen with a mix of excitement and nervousness. To calm your nerves, you brought yourself some chocolate from Charles' motorhome. He told you he got them from Pierre earlier today, and both of you enjoyed a bar before this training session—it tastes so good.

As you wait for Charles to finish his last training session for the weekend, the anticipation bubbles within you, heightened by the thrill of the fast-paced racing world.

Clad in his Ferrari shirt and cap, you feel a strange sense of exhilaration coursing through your veins, mingling with the nervous excitement that pulses beneath the surface.

When Charles finally emerges from his car, his presence seems to command the entire paddock. His aura is magnetic, drawing you in with an irresistible force. In one swift motion, his helmet and balaclava come off, revealing a face flushed with exhilaration.

He exchanges a few words with his mechanics, his focus on the training still evident in his demeanor. But then, as if drawn by an invisible force, his gaze finds yours.

His expression softens slightly as he runs a hand across his chest firmly, stroking himself through his racing suit. Charles licks his lips before turning his attention back to the conversation.

A tingling sensation erupts in your belly, sending shivers down your spine when he approaches you. As Charles closes the distance between you, palpable energy seems to radiate from him, his every movement infused with a magnetic charm that is impossible to resist. Time seems to slow down; everything around you is out of focus; just Charles remains the center of attention.

A confident swagger in his step, he exudes waves of effortless allure, seemingly pulling everyone's eyes on him. With casual grace, he runs a hand through his tousled hair, the strands falling back into place with practiced ease.

His touch lingers on his beard, his fingers tracing the sharp lines of his jawline before trailing down to his chest, where they linger for a moment longer.

You can't tear your gaze away, captivated by the sight of him and the way his features seem to be sculpted by the very hands of a divine artist. His confidence is intoxicating, drawing you in like a moth to a flame.

"How was I?" He asks, his words washing over you in a warm embrace.

"Simply amazing." You smile as your skin heats up rapidly. Your face flushes with color, nearly as bright as your Ferrari shirt.

"Thank you; the car was so good." Charles remarks with a coy smile forming on his lips. "It felt amazing, like it let me do all that I wanted."

Despite your best efforts to concentrate, your attention keeps drifting, drawn inexorably to every nuance of his being. His lips move with fluid grace, forming each word with precision, and you can't help but be mesmerized by their subtle curve.

His beard, perfectly groomed yet with a hint of ruggedness, frames his jawline with an undeniable allure. As his fingers trail along it, you feel a surge of longing wash over you; the desire to reach out and touch the softness bristles alomst overwhelming.

But it is his hands that truly capture your attention—strong and calpable yet gentle in their touch. Every movement is deliberate, and each gesture imbued with a quiet confidence.

And then there are his eyes, pools of endless depth that seem to hold the entire universe within their gaze. They sparkle with warmth and mischief, drawing you in even closer.

Then, however, he leans in to whisper in your ear. "You look so good in that shirt," he breathes, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down your spine. "Almost as good as me out there on track, huh?"

You chuckle nervously, the air crackling with tension as you struggle to keep your composure. Charles' newfound flirtatiousness is both exhilarating and unnerving, stirring emotions within you that you had never dared to acknowledge.

His hands brush over yours before he separates himself, a knowing smirk forming on his lips as his eyes roam all over you again.

One of his mechanics calls him over, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Charles has been your friend for years now, and you can't deny the attraction you feel to this beautiful man, but this comes out of nowhere.

Later, you make your way back to his motorhome. The atmosphere grows increasingly charged, thick with unspoken desire. With each step, you find yourself drawn to Charles, unable to resist the magnetic pull that draws you closer together.

Inside his quarters, the air was heavy with anticipation, the silence punctuated only by the sound of your racing hearts. The scent of his cologne is all around you as Charles moves with fluid grace, his movements mesmerizing as he sheds his racing suit.

You watch, transfixed, as he lets the upper half of his suit hang down his waist, exposing his tight fireproofs that hug his form. Like a second skin, its fabric clings to his skin, and you can't help but admire the way they accentuate every contour of his muscular physique. Despite their attempt to conceal his strength, his powerful frame is unmistakable.

With causal ease, he flexes his arms, the fabric stretching taut against the bulging muscles beneath. You gasp silently as he stretches and moves, showing off his beautiful form.

But it is when he runs a hand over himself, stroking firmly along the curves of his chest and abdomen, that you find yourself unable to tear your gaze away. The sight is hypnotic, a tantalizing display of masculinity that leaves you breathless with desire.

Caught in the act of staring, you feel a blush creep into your cheeks as Charles' eyes meet yours. But instead of embarrassment, there is a playful twinkle in his gaze.

"Like what you see?" He winks, a mischievous grin quirking the corners of his lips as he teases you with a knowing look.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." You raise your hands slightly, but he doesn't mind you watching him.

"I don't know. I'm so horny right now." He lets out a low moan that gives you goosebumps.

Unable to suppress the surge of desire that courses through your body, you close the distance to him, your hands trembling as they reach out to touch him.

His body is warm beneath your fingertips, eliciting a soft gasp as your boidies collide in a frenzy of longing. As your hands venture forth, a hesitant yet undeniable curiosity guiding its path, you feel warmth and a tingling sensation run through you.

Charles stands before you, his chest rising and falling with each steady breath, the fabric of his fireproofs offering little resistance to the exploration that lies ahead.

With a tentative touch, you allow your fingers to trace the contours of his chest, feeling the firmness of his muscles beneath the thin barrier of fabric. Each ridge and curve elicits a soft gasp from you and an even softer yet guttural moan from him.

Charles breath hitches at the touch, his gaze locked with yours in a slient exchange of longing and desire. Emboldened by his response, you press your hand firmer against him, reveling in the sensation of his warmth seeping through his clothes.

His muscles ripple beneath your touch, a testament to the strength and athleticism that define him as a professional racing driver. And yet, beneath the surface, there is a vulnerability, a rawness, that speaks of the humanity within him.

"It feels so good," he growls, and places his hands on your waist, holding you close.

In the heat of the moment, you lean in, and your lips meet in a hungry kiss, the world around you fading into insignificance. But just as your passion reaches its zenith, a sudden sound shatters the intimacy of the moment.

Startled, you break apart, your gazes locking in shared disbelief as you turn to see Pierre standing behind you, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. His laughter echoes through the motorhome, mingling with the stunned silence that envelopes you.

"It looks like someone's been busy," Pierre teases, unable to contain his amusement.

Embarrassment floods through you, your cheeks burning as you struggle to find the words to explain the situation. But Charles simply chuckles, his arms wrapping around your waist in a protective gesture.

"Thanks for the chocolate, Pierre," Charles says with a wry grin, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Looks like they had quite the effect."

Confused, your gaze shifts between them, trying to make sense of the situation. Then, you notice him brandishing a box of chocolates with an impish grin.

Pierre's grin widens, a twinkle of mischief dancing in his eyes. "My pleasure," he replies. "I must say, if I weren't taken, I'd be falling for either of you. You both look so good."

You can't help but giggle at his remarks, even though you're still slightly confused, as the warmth of embarrassment creeps into your cheeks.

"Oh, Pierre, you're naughty," Charles chimes in, his laughter joining yours. "But I suppose I can't argue with you there."

Pierre approaches you, the box of chocolates held out in offering. You accept it, and your eyes fall on it right away.

"Spice up your life with our new aphrodisiac chocolate bars." You read to yourself and pout, "Really, Pierre?"

Pierre's hand lands on Charles' firm chest, a playful pat that elicits a low growl from him.

"Aren't you just the heartthrob of the paddock?" He teases, his hand stroking Charles' chest a few times, before Charles nudges him with his elbow.

"You're unbelievable, Pierre," he says, shaking his head with a shy smile.

Still feeling the effect of the chocolate coursing through his veins, Charles can't resist the urge to indulge in a bit of self-admiration. With a smirk, he strokes his own chest, his movements mirroring Pierre's teasing gestures.

Sensing the playful energy in the room, you join in on the fun, nudging Pierre playfully as well.

He giggles in response, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he returns the gesture.

"I think I should leave you to it then." Pierre licks his lips. "You can keep the chocolate." He smirks and shrugs before leaving the motorhome.

As his laughter fades away and you are left alone once more, a comfortable silence settles between Charles and yourself.

Finally, he breaks the silence, his voice soft yet filled with sincerity. "You know, it felt good to hold you close like that," he admits, his gaze meeting yours with a hint of vulnerability.

You nod, feeling a warmth spreading through you at his words. "Yeah, it did." You agree, unable to suppress the smile that tugs at the corner of your lips.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc drabble #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 smut #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 smut #formula 1 imagine

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dazai-ritualist · 2 months

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i saw u were taking requests! uhmmm, i had this thought just recently; you know how in the v first ep of hh where alastor kinda runs his fingers up his staff thingie? well, That but him doing it to reader instead teehee 🤭

YOUR SWEET RADIO DEMON!

— on a date with alastor, he gets unusually possessive and jealous

— I SAW THIS ANDIMMIDEITYYL HAD TO WRITE IT

as infamously known by hotel residents and staff, alastor loves to invade others’ personal space; pulling them uncomfortably close, touching their faces— it’s the sheer entertainment to see them writhe uncomfortably under his harsh touch, knowing that he could make them disappear right now if he wanted to.

but, he especially likes to touch you, his dear. your puffy baby cheeks, your big eyes, your resting pout on those pretty lips; you’re simply just adorable, he could eat you up!

he has to admit, you’re also divinely gorgeous, what if other overlords try to steal you away from him? of course, no one would even compare to him, much less dare to… but, he must be cautious in case some egotistical sinner thinks that they’d be able to court you.

he’d thought about marking you, perhaps on the neck, but doing that would include unsightly deeds that he wouldn’t want to indulge in…

so then, he decided to do the next best thing; have you accompany him as a companion through his day. keeping you with him as he does his overlord duties, an arm safely around your waist. and, in return, he spoils you with lovely gifts of top-notch quality.

of course, there are better solutions to satiate his possessive behavior… but, this is the one that both of you find most enjoyable.

on one of these days, alastor followed you inside as the two of you went on a date to lu-lu world, taking you on all of the thrilling rollercoasters. to be quite honest, he had a fun time, albeit all the tacky circus decor throughout the place.

while at one of the game booths, you threw the bean bag, hoping to score some points. alastor used his shadow to pull it into the hole, making absolute sure you win.

the gamemaker’s jaw fell in awe, never usually having anyone beat the game. “lovely game, my dear! i believe there is a prize that was won?” alastor looked at the demon gamemaker who hurriedly brought a large lamb-like plushie, styled after charlie’s bodyguard, dazzle.

after all of that, the red skies of hell grew dark as nightfall came. you and alastor walked to the exit before you ran into a specific man.

“oh..! what are you doing here?” lucifer asked, slightly pointing his staff towards you, his face contorting to annoyance as he looked at alastor.

“alastor and i are on… um…” you wandered off, a little embarrassed to explain. “we’re on a date, of course!” alastor announced as he pulled closer to him by your shoulder, his fingers moving behind you to dance on your skin.

your posture straightened, subconsciously trying to move away from the ticklish feeling moving itself up on your spine. “i’d say the better question is what is a man such as yourself doing here alone, hm?” alastor glared down at him.

“well, for one— i own the place.” lucifer frowned back at alastor. “very well, then. we’ll see you around, i suppose!” alastor sighed, pulling you immediately away from lucifer and not even giving him the chance to bid farewell.

as alastor pulled you away, you saw his smile getting strained. “are you ok? why were you—“ “what was that about, my love? why did you not tell him yourself that we were on a date?” you asked before alastor interrupted, the radio static over his voice getting louder the more irritated he got.

your eyes avoided his as you searched your mind for an answer. “ah… well…” you bit your lip, stalling yourself as you came up with a reason.

“is it because you’d rather go on a date with him instead?” he snarled, his eyes clearly frustrated. “would you rather be with that lonely man? all he ever does is make rubber ducks!” he sighed, his jealousy ruining his composure.

“what?!” you frowned. “no… it’s just that… it’s a little embarrassing to explain things to other people. i also got a little flustered because i didn’t expect to see him here… i love you, alastor, promise…” you pouted, leaning your head on his chest

he sighed, satisfied with your response as he put a hand on your head. “good. because you’re mine, dear. don’t ever forget that. and, if you do…” alastor started before his hand once again moved to your spine, two fingers tickling your skin as they danced their way to the nape of your neck.

“agh, stop that!” you whined. “that tickles… don’t worry, i’m all yours.” you shook your head, baffled by the extent of his jealousy. “very good… i love you too, my dear.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hasbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor

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goddessofwisdom-7 · 4 months

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Sacrifice [part 2]

Pairing: Luke castellan x female!reader

Description: a prequel to Sacrifice pt. 1, you held up the sky for long and Luke could see the toll it was taking so he goes ahead luring Annabeth to take your place, after all he's just trying to take care of you.

A/N: when I wrote Sacrifice, I did it in fifteen minutes nto thinking much of it. But I like the concept of it ngl. In all fairness, angst is like my thing and writing angsty toxic Luke is my fav rn.

Sacrifice pt 1:

Luke's shoulders ached, his back felt almost crooked from the weight of the sky. He felt a twinge of sympathy for Annabeth but right now she was the lesser of his concerns.

The woman at the forefront of his mind being you.

You who swung from consciousness to unconsciousness for the last three days; the strength from your body sapped out and a constant pain ripping through you. Your wrists were wrapped up in bandages to support them and the large expanse of bruises on your shoulders were being iced.

The nectar and ambrosia he was taking to you felt like a meagre offering, a minimal solution.

This whole ploy was a sheer debacle. He could've lost you.

Everything was taking too much time. Anyway, it didn't matter now.

You were out of immediate danger, he could take care of you. Just like he always swore to. He'd show you how much he cared, that you still mattered and ha had it all under control and all the doubts he knew you were beginning to have weren't necessary.

Your hair had greyed significantly, more than his had; though that was to be expected with how much more time you had spent in Atlas' position.

He sidled up to your sleeping figure, sheltered away from the eyes of titans and soldiers– protected; and reached out to caress your face, over the course of these days, he had developed a small routine now.

First, he picked up the washcloth and basin that a son of Asclepius who was in charge of handling injuries had dutifully kept. He could tend to your wounds and the other demigods, but you were still under Luke's care. Always.

Cleaning up your face first, before gently wiping down your arms, mindful of the supporting bandages and then wiping your knees, down your shins and the arch of your feet.

It felt good, being able to do something for you. After which he'd try to rouse you in a partial wakefulness as he helped you sip the divine nectar, watching the magic liquid give you some strength.

For a little while, Luke had been worried. For all your amazing traits, he believed you to be more simple-minded; in your mind, you were the first that should be sacrificed because of your dedication and devotion towards your loved ones. Now, he never thought of your loyalty to be mindless like a dog's but he always believed that it would be his.

But then after the whole Golden Fleece interaction with Percy and company, you had gotten quiet, secretive almost. Like you were deliberating helping the son of Poseidon. And he had had a sinking feeling that Kronos might order him to get rid of you, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to do that.

"Are you hiding something from me?" He'd asked one evening, quiet and sudden.

Your gaze remained unwavered as you stepped closer to him.

"No."

"You having doubts?"

"About survival?" You laughed, "I've known about the extreme likelihood of dying for a very long time." A thrilling shiver ran down his spine as you grabbed his chin.

"And still Luke, I'm here, by your side. I'm not having any doubts."

And a few days later you went and held up the sky and now he wondered if it was some unrequired act of fielty.

He brushed your grey hair back, untangling a few knots and wished your face didn't look so disturbed and in agony in sleep as it did while you were awake.

"Luke?" You mumbled.

"Yes love."

"What– how am I here?" A sudden fit of discomfort and confusion setting upon you as you forced your eyes open and tried to sit up, still half asleep but nevertheless trying to stay alert– a default demigod setting, "who's– Atlas–"

"Shh," He whispered, attempting to be soothing. Take care of you. His job. "Annabeth's got it in control."

"Anna– no!" You shoot up, weak and disoriented, "not– Luke, Luke you promised– No!"

"Shh, calm down, please," He catches your shoulder and nudges you to lie back but you remain restless and oh gods he loves you and can't lie to you but you need to remain still or you'll get hurt more.

"You promised–"

Their medic is swift in appearing with an anaesthetic type medication and they put you out succinctly, without the chance of waking for a long while.

"I know you didn't want it to go like this, my love. But I will sacrifice hundreds to keep you safe."

His heart feels heavy and he kisses your brow and cheek.

If Annabeth, Thalia or Percy or anyone is the option opposite you, he'll kill them all. You, his devoted darling, his own nectar. The repercussions always seem so inconsequential when up against you, taking care of you.

His beloved.

************

#percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fandom #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #pjo fanfic #pjo x reader

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the-travelling-witch · 6 months

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𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

nonnie asked: CHILDE NSFW HC HAND EM OVER DARLING PRETTY PLZ

pairing: childe x gn! reader

warnings: nsfw/ minors dni, mention of various kinks etc

this is a repost because i'm moving my nsfw works onto this blog!!

genshin impact masterlist

If it’s possible to be on both ends of the masochist/sadist spectrum at the same time at any given time, Childe is; while it absolutely gets him going to tease you and rile you up, he’s not afraid of a little pain himself; quite the opposite actually, a slight sting thrills him.

Speaking of thrill, while Childe is more on the dominant side, please challenge him for the position; he appreciates the fight and nothing boosts his ego more than making you submit after a struggle.

Playing into his sadistic nature, seeing fat tears roll down your cheeks sends chills down his spine; the sight of your watery eyes, either from pleasure or frustration, will make him coo at you (it’s all faux empathy, he’ll continue to be just as mean).

And what better way to make you tear up than making you gag around his girth? Childe’s line of work is exhausting, so having a darling partner to come home to gets him through the day. Especially if you sink to your knees in front of him and let him use your throat as he pleases.

In general, taking out his frustrations on you is not an uncommon occurrence. There’s a certain glint in his eyes when he returns to you and that’s about as much explanation you get before he manhandles you into whatever position he wants, his fingers tangled in your hair, and turns your brain to mush with rough thrusts (with prior consent ofc ♡).

On the flip side, Childe can be the softest, sappiest lover in all of Teyvat. He’s worshipping your body like it’s the most divine temple, his ocean blue eyes swirling with adoration and love. When he gets like this, he’s almost like a big puppy in needing to be close to you, not letting you go for longer than he needs to.

Childe can’t help it, he can’t stop imagining starting a family with you, doesn’t matter if it’s physically impossible for you to have children of your own or if you’re currently not planning to have them. It doesn’t hurt to dream as he fills you up to the brim, watching as his cum leaks from your twitching hole after he pulls out.

While he’ll have you any way possible, his favourite positions are taking you from behind, folding you into a mating press or watching you ride him, depending on the mood. Each angle has its own charm and Childe wouldn’t want to miss a single one.

When it comes to location, obviously no place in your shared home is safe (seriously, the sheets, the shower tiles and the kitchen counter have seen things and so have you when it’s reflected back at you from a mirror), but much like in battle, Childe is an insatiable risk taker. Whether it’s in an alleyway or under the table of a fancy restaurant, the guy can hardly keep his fingers off- or out- of you.

But unfair as he might be in the bedroom, he does not only take, oh no. In fact, he might enjoy giving oral so much so it almost becomes taking again. This man can eat you out for hours if he so pleases and you almost have to beg him to stop when he’s in one of his moods. Also, please sit on his face, he wants his face to be framed by your thighs! And don’t worry about suffocating him, if it comes that far the lack of oxygen only adds to the thrill of it all.

Thanks to his work and rigorous training, Childe’s stamina is through the roof. Chances are, your legs will be trembling and sore before he even feels a ghost of fatigue, thrusts as hard and voice as steady as at the beginning of your little session. On the same note, his recovery period is frighteningly short as well (or maybe he’s just a horndog :P).

Although, even for a man like him, not every moment is filled with excitement and wild abandon. He knows to savour the finer things in life and that includes you. So it really shouldn’t come as a surprise that he enjoys having you cockwarm him as you talk about your days or he files away paperwork. There’s something comforting about feeling your warmth wrapped around him that calms him as he peppers kisses wherever he can.

Then again, you can never quite anticipate what Childe has planned for you next. Is he going to render your legs useless by giving you as many orgasms as you can possibly take, testing your limits every time? Or is going to laugh cruelly at the sobs spilling over your lips as he ruins your high again?

One thing’s for sure, he won’t ever shut up. And you don’t want him to, so it works out in your favour. Even while talking though, his honeyed words never come without being laced in a little poison. Whether he’s spouting the filthiest fantasies and tagging on a sweet name or drawing you in with charming words just to make your face heat up in embarrassment when he calls you out, praise and degradation never stray too far from one another with Childe.

This is especially strong towards the beginning of your relationship but if you have a somewhat innocent appeal, Childe would love to corrupt you. There’s something carnal within him that goes feral at the thought of ruining your pure self and tainting you (even if you’re not all that innocent, the thought is still very appealing to him).

Playing into that, perhaps think about letting him peel away some lacy white lingerie and watch his pupils dilate like a predator’s. But it’s not just white; Childe’s not incredibly picky with which garments he gets to rip off of you (don’t worry, he’ll buy you plenty more), the notion that you dressed up for him riling him up far too much to think clearly about it. Although he does make it a point to convey just how beautiful you look, either through words or actions or both.

But, in Childe’s eyes, every piece of delicate lingerie is infinitely more attractive when it shows off the marks he left on you previously. While he’s not overly jealous, he might be just a tad bit possessive, but really only a smidge. Seeing red and purple hues decorate your neck, chest, hips and thighs though is a sure fire way to land you some new ones…

Just as he can buy you an entire wardrobe of lingerie, Childe has money to throw at toys as well. You might think he would not resort to using them but that’s were you’d be wrong; he thinks they’re quite a lot of fun actually, especially when he can use them to toy with you. From teasing you to helping stretch you out, you best believe he will dedicate his time to studying the best way to make you see stars. Truly, the greatest toy buyer in Snezhnaya… (sorry, couldn’t help myself hshsh)

Last but not least, Childe has a raging size kink. Whether he’s actually physically towering over you or not, he’ll definitely impose his presence on you, crowding you against the mattress, manhandling you with so much ease you might as well be a doll. If you’re ever whimpering about him being too big and not being able to take him, you’re basically begging to have your brain fucked out.

Speaking of size… if you’re up for a challenge (and are a monsterfucker), Foul Legacy! Childe might just come out to play. From his inhumanly long tongue to the significant growth in both length and size, he’ll hardly leave you wanting. And even if that’s still not enough, is one really the limit…?

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

➺ send in an ask to be added to or removed from my tag list

#┊holly’s potions ೃ༄#genshin impact #x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe smut #tartaglia smut #genshin impact childe #genshin impact tartaglia #childe tartagalia #minors dni

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the-travelling-bitch · 9 months

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CHILD NSFW HC HAND EM OVER DARLING PRETTY PLZ

that is one unfortunate typo jshsh

oh my, i have so many thoughts about him it’s hard to be coherent off the top of my head but i’ll try ㅠㅠ

[gn! reader]

Speaking of thrill, while Childe is more on the dominant side, please challenge him for the position; he appreciates the fight and nothing boosts his ego more than making you submit after a struggle.

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

➺ has one headcanon caught your eye? tell me about it~

genshin impact masterlist

#┊ elogia cinerosa ‧͙*̩̩͙❆彡 #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact thirst #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin thirst #childe x reader #childe smut #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia smut #ajax x reader #ajax smut #genshin impact childe #genshin impact tartaglia #childe tartagalia

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stilespeters · 1 year

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Reader being obsessed with her husband James March’s scars on his back.

You stabbed me?

pairing: James March x fem!reader

a/n: i need to dance with James while also trying to stab him (tension djdhhsh) in a room full of oblivious people. its simply a must.

word count: 2847

summary: You admire James’ scars and get a flashback on how the both of you met

warnings: sexual tension🤭, a bit of angst, swearing, suggestive language, oh and murder & violence ig

“James?” you called out and you looked at yourself in the mirror as the crimson fabric hugged your body. As you called out your lover's name, you heard him hum as he made his way over to you with his upper body exposed. “Yes, my dearest?”

“Can you zip up my dress?” You adjusted your hair to your side to expose your bare back, and James made his way behind you. He stood tall as his fingers brushed your lower back, and you felt shivers along your spine as he gently zipped the zipper to the end while looking at you in the mirror in front of you. You were wearing a wine colored sleeveless dress with a slit, and it clung to your body perfectly, showing your curves while still looking classy. It was a gift from James and it was your favorite dress. You only wore it on special occasions, and today was one of them.

You were both headed to a speakeasy downtown, and you were really excited. Women were allowed to vote and they were allowed to be much more loose than before, which meant that women were now also allowed to attend speakeasy’s. Plus, there was alcohol. Ever since the Prohibition law, it was way harder to get a good drink.

James was beyond thrilled to have you by his side. In the saloons, he’d talk about you and what a gem you were, but now he could finally show those men that you were the true angel of Los Angeles.

Once James was done zipping up your dress, he planted a kiss on your bare shoulder, and cupped the back of your neck. He gripped it with force whilst he planted more kisses, and his other hand was planted on your waist. “You look divine, Mrs March.”

“Why thank you, Mr March.” you turned around to face him, and you looked up at him and placed your hands on his chest. Your nails scratched against his skin, and he grinned at you as you leaned in to give him a kiss.

You planned on leaning back after a few seconds, but he had other plans as he cupped the back of your head, holding you into place. You let out a soft moan, which led to James getting a little more rough, and your hands moved to his back, scratching deliciously against his shoulder blades.

Kissing James for a few seconds just wasn't an option.

You only pulled away from his lips to kiss his neck, and his grip on your neck tightened as you sucked the sensitive skin. You knew that if you didn’t stop now, that your dress would be on the ground and his pants would be down.

But you didn't want to stop.

However, you two had a speakeasy to attend to, and so you pulled back and breathed heavily while pressing your forehead against his while his hands snaked around your waist.

“We still have about twenty minutes.” He whispered and he grinned. You knew what he was implying but you wanted to tease him. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, how about we skip the speakeasy and go to bed instead. I love your dress but it would look better on the floor.” You held his hair in your hands and tugged lightly, making him groan and you leaned forward to his ear. “Mhmm,” You waited a few seconds before continuing. “No.”

You pulled back and his lips were in a thin line, yet his eyes stood playful and you gave him a smile. “I don't want to ruin my makeup.”

“Yet your lipstick is painted on my neck.” He motioned for the red spot on his skin, and you chuckled. There was indeed a red spot on his neck, and he looked devilishly handsome right now. His hair was tousled and a few strands covered his forehead, the veins in his muscles were prominent, and his chest was marked with your recent scratches that attacked the skin.

Your chuckle, however, faded when he suddenly grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him in the eyes, and he rubbed some lipstick off of your skin with his thumb that got lost in the make out session. He then hooked his thumb on your bottom lip and slowly dragged it down.

“You know the words, darling. For if you change your mind. They will understand if we arrive later than expected,” the corners of his lips curled up. “Or not at all.”

When he saw you were speechless, he smiled at you and let go of your lip as he moved back to the bed and sat on the end with his back facing yours. He grabbed a cigarette from his pocket and placed it between his lips, and he grabbed a lighter on the nightstand and took a deep inhale.

Your hair was a little messy from the way he grabbed you, and your mind was fogged with the intoxication of your husband’s actions. It felt euphoric and it took every ounce of your body to not give in and jump on him.

However, you were strong enough to set it aside, and you fixed your hair and makeup in the mirror before turning around and looking at your husband who was still smoking with his back turned to you.

His back was broad and there were scratches scattered on his skin. Some were from you, from the previous nights the two of you had spent in your shared bedroom. But there were also other marks on his back that you didn't recognize. You saw it once or twice when you two would shower together and when you’d wash his back, but he always seemed reluctant when you’d touch them or ask about them.

You were curious by nature, and even though you didn't want to pry for information, you wished he would share it with you. You knew that he’d open up to you about it when he would be ready, and once he was ready, you’d open your arms for him to show him comfort. But the last time you mentioned it was months ago, just after the wedding, and so you felt like one more try couldn't hurt.

If he decided however to not speak up about it now, you’d happily wait until he was ready.

You slowly walked towards him and to his oblivion, you kept staring at his back. But what you didn't know was that James felt your eyes on him minutes ago, and he smirked as the cigarette was between his fingers.

“Like what you see?” he chuckled and you clenched your jaw and rolled your eyes. “I actually do.”

“Yeah?” he turned to look at you and you sat on the bed behind him and started massaging his shoulders. James March was a strong and powerful man, nothing could drag him down. However, he had one weakness, and that was your touch. He was like ice, but your skin on his would melt him instantly.

He gave into your soothing motions on his shoulders and closed his eyes.

You moved your hands a bit lower till they reached his shoulder blades. Testing the waters, you carefully traced one of the markings. He froze, and you kept massaging his stiffened muscles. His back was tense, and this time you were the one to plant a kiss on his shoulder.

He didn't say anything and instead let out a sigh. He gently grabbed your palm that rested on his shoulders, and for a second you thought that he wanted to pull you away. But instead, he guided your fingers to another mark on his back. You again, traced it, and you leaned in to give it a kiss.

“My father was a true believer,” he began, and you stopped as he continued. “Ate a little cracker, drank the wine every sunday. And he was the meanest son of a bitch you’ve ever seen.”

You gulped. James wasn’t one to use profanity often. You heard him sigh deeply and he huffed as he mentioned him. “Killed a cat for purring too loud.”

He took another inhale of his cigarette and bit the inside of his cheek. It was as if he was reliving everything over again. “He was Satan himself, disguised as an angel. It was a dance with the devil, and I kept playing with fire, that’s why he lashed out on me often.”

You brushed the pads of your fingers against the other markings, and again, you leaned in to give it a kiss. You wanted him to know that you were there for him in times like these, because these moments were rare. He usually puts up a mask to conceal his feelings, but you knew that once he let his guard down, that his vulnerable side was showing. You were supporting him in every way possible, even through the tough times, that’s why he felt comfortable enough with you to show his sensitive side.

“In those moments where he looked down on me, I… I-” he didn't know the words to describe it, and you gently rubbed his skin.

“You forgot how powerful you were.”

“Yeah,” he muttered and he clenched his jaw. “ I refuse to let my past get in the way of my success. I refuse to feel powerless like that again.”

You could really tell that he didn't want to think back about his past, about his father and you felt empathy. James was a person who loved power. He thrived knowing that he was one of the most powerful men in Los Angeles, and he felt like his scars were only a liability. He felt like it showed weakness.

“These scars radiate power, not weakness,” you began and he looked intrigued in what you had to say. “The wounds that were inflicted on your skin have healed, but there will always remain scars, both physically and mentally. It’s a sign that you’ve endured the torment of the world, the torment of your father. It’s a mark that shows that you're a survivor.” you almost whispered it, but it felt like a gunshot next to James’s ears. He smiled at your words, taking another inhale of his cigarette and you traced your finger down his back to his other scars.

He was thankful for you.

You stopped tracing your finger over his back when you reached another mark that was prominent on his side, and you chuckled when you remembered where it was from.

It was the scar he got when he first met you.

It was the summer of 26, and you had a mission. Find James March, and kill him. It was as easy as that, a simple task.

When you first entered the Grand room, it felt like the whole word went quiet. Everyone’s attention was on you, and everyone’s breath got caught up in their throat when they admired your physique. You held your chin high, and when you scanned the room, your eyes met the eyes of your target, James Patrick March. When he stared at you, he thought that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on, and when you stared at him, you thought he was the most handsome man you had ever laid eyes on. He was infatuated with you, and you were infatuated with him. Which made the job a lot harder than you anticipated. Luckily you liked a challenge. Why not have fun when you're tasked to kill an aristocrat?

The first half of the night was basically you eyeing him from the other side of the room. He was talking to other ladies with beautiful and elegant flapper dresses and hand fans, however he didn't pay attention to any of them. He had a big name for himself and the women were practically lined up just to talk to him. They wanted to seduce him for his money and good looks. However he didn't fall for any of them. He knew their intentions, he was strictly here for business. Yet his eyes kept subconsciously moving towards you. You stood in the corner with wine in your hands, sipping while watching everything around you intently. Specifically James.

You had something mysterious and James was drawn to it.

Jazz music played in the background, and you had finally had enough of waiting for him to make the first move, and so as you made your way towards him. The ladies at James’ feet were long forgotten once you and James were standing in front of each other.

He gently grabbed your hand and kissed te back while holding eye contact, and you smiled at him as he introduced himself.

You could smell his expensive cologne and when he asked for a dance, the two of you swayed to the rhythm of the jazz music.

You had his body pressed against yours, and everyone around you had disappeared as you kept looking into his dark brown eyes. Your faces kept moving closer and closer, but each time his lips were merely touching yours, you’d pull away and leave him speechless.

He was strictly there for business, but the way you looked at him made him want to make an exception for mixing business with pleasure.

However, James wasn't stupid, he knew you were up to something. You didn't have a chaperone, you wore a practical and simple dress instead of something extravagant, and you had only set your interest in him the whole night. Your vibe was off, and it bugged him. It was the hard blade of a knife however that was pressed against his side that made him realize you were up to no good.

His grip on you had tightened and he had leaned in so that his lips were next to your ear whilst you two were still swaying on the music. Everyone else didn't have any clue what was going on. “What game are you playing here?” He tried to pull away from you but you pulled him in till your chests touched, and your red lips grinned as you looked up at him with mischievous eyes. “The one where I get my paycheck.”

That’s when you stabbed him in his side.

You felt joy as you reminiscenced while your fingers traced the scar, and James rubbed soothing motions with his thumb on your side. You somehow felt proud of the mark you left him.

“You were sloppy that night,” he began and you chuckled. “If you stabbed the blade 1 inch to the left, I would’ve been dead, yet you missed.”

“Well maybe it was my intention to not kill you that night, maybe I wanted to have some more fun with you before I’d slice your throat.”

“Yet you didn't,” you stood up from your seat on the bed, and moved to sit on his lap instead. Both of your legs were on one side of his leg and you placed your arm around his shoulder. His hand moved to your waist. “I did slice a throat, it just wasn’t yours.”

He grinned widely at your words and he closed his eyes and hummed in amazement when he replayed the scene in his head.

You and him had tried to kill each other multiple times that night, while still dancing. No one noticed what was happening, and the both of you challenged each other as you two were on the same skill level. After 60 minutes the both of you gave up on trying to kill each other, and you agreed to kill the person who hired you.

When James closed his eyes, he saw the sight of you on top of your client. You had red splattered all over your face and dress as the man gurgled in his own blood when you slit his throat. Your dress was white, which represented innocence. Which was ironic since you were the opposite of innocent. It was the most attractive thing James had seen, for him it was like a sexual awakening. He didn't even find it odd that he was turned on by the sight of you murdering someone.

He fell in love right then and there, and so he decided to stick around with you, and everything that followed was history. The scar that was left on his side was a reminder of how the two of you met. It was a romantic first encounter where the two of you tried to murder each other.

“That night, you killing that man was the most astonishing thing I have ever witnessed in my entire life.” He adjusted you in his lap so both of your legs were on either side of his. You hovered above his crotch and your hands were once again on his chest.

“Mhmm.” you kissed his neck.

“You looked magnificent. Your white dress was painted with blood. Your hair was messy as your hair fell out of your bun, your lipstick was smeared and your legs were bruised from the fight that we had when you stabbed me. The way you clutched the knife, the way you drew it to his throat, you looked seraphic, killing him.”

As he complimented you, you continued kissing his neck trailing more pecks to his collarbone and his hands moved to your neck. When you pressed yourself onto his crotch, he sucked in a deep breath.

“Darling,” he whispered as you pulled back. “What about the speakeasy?” He asked and he gave you a knowing look while raising his eyebrows. You grinned down at him while grabbing a fistful of his hair. “We got 10 more minutes, right?” he nodded and you bit your lip. “Well, I marked you as mine when I stabbed you 4 years ago,” you motioned for the scar on his side. “Now mark me as yours.”

“Anything for you, my dearest.” his hands moved to the zipper of your dress, and before you knew it, the fabric was lost somewhere on the ground.

#evan peters #evan peters smut #evan peters x reader #evan peters x you #evan peters x y/n #evan peters x female reader #james march x reader #james march #james patrick march #james march smut #james patrick march x female reader #james march x female reader #james patrick march smut

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hadesrise · 10 months

Text

𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐈𝐍.

summary ➳ you’re sinfully divine, an addicting drug no rehab could fix. it’s not like mickey wanted to, anyway.

pairings ➳ mikhailo “mickey” milkovich x male reader

warnings ➳ nsfw content, foul language, top!reader, bottom!mickey, attractive nerd reader (with glasses n’ shit), rough sex, choking, praise kink, degradation if you squint, pet names, size difference, reader’s a freaking giant with big dick lmao, slight possessiveness, belly bulge, dumbification, dacryphilia

author’s note ➳ mickey milkovich brain rot. also tumblr quality being shit 😠

MINORS & FEM READERS DNI !!

Mickey found himself unable to keep his eyes and hands off of you. He would convince himself there’s nothing to the way he stares at you from across the room, how his eyes would cloud with unspeakable lust as they run along your tall frame, checking out every hidden muscles he knew was underneath your slightly oversized clothing, how he unconsciously licks his lips when you tilt your head back and stretch with a tiny moan of satisfaction over the cracking back bones leaving your lips.

He convinces himself he isn’t into you.

At least, he does in daylight. But when the sun falls and moon rises instead as the sky darkens into a midnight blue, those denials and convincing ends up disappearing into the void within his mind, thoughts consumed by you alone. Your low voice as you speak praises and degrading words to him simultaneously, your hand wrapped around his throat and squeezing while the other grips his hips and no doubt leaving bruise, your hips thrusting relentlessly at a speed he didn’t know you could muster, your fucking cock that’s long and thick and hits every right spot.

There’s a little sense of triumphant in him, the knowledge that only he could ever see you like this — so rough, so dominant, wild, like a beast had been freed from its chains. Your usual angelic demeanor and personality drastically changing behind closed doors as you slowly pick him apart piece by piece, the want and need to break him flashing itself dangerously in your dark and lustful eyes, sending waves of thrilling excitement throughout Mickey’s body.

You had him bent over the cold desk, his wrists pinned to the surface by one of your big hands as the other held his hips in a bruising grip, roughly and relentlessly thrusting into him that had him moaning loudly and spurting series of curses and nonsense words. His hole still tight and almost sucking you in despite how used it already was being a proof that you managed to rearrange his guts into the shape of your own cock, making them perfectly fit against each other.

“(Y/n)— Oh, oh, fuck!” Mickey cried out as you continuously rammed your dick in him, keeping a steady rough pace, grunts leaving your lips once in a while. He had already came three times, the side of the desk stained in his cum and dripping down to the floor, his legs trembling from the overstimulation.

“Take it so fucking well, Mikhailo.” You nearly growled, punctuating your words with strong thrusts that had him seeing stars, your cock reaching deep into his guts with each snap of your hips. “Taking it like a good slut, letting me use your cunt whenever I want...” You let out a dark chuckle, sending shivers down his spine.

“More, please,” He whined and arched his back, both hands gripping the edge of the desk, not even struggling against your tight hold on his wrists. Surely, there would be a hand-shaped mark around them once you’re done with him. “Deeper, fuck, wanna feel it poking my fucking stomach, pleasepleaseplease,” Brain too fucked out to think coherently, Mickey babbled and pushed his ass against you, moaning.

“Look at you,” You whistled, leaning over to lick the back of his ear, making his hips jerk. “So fucking pathetically drunk on my cock. Almost want them to see what a whore Milkovich you are.” The whispered humiliation going straight to his brain and cock, you felt him clench around you as he mewled, tears spilling from his pretty little blue eyes. Even your words alone could make him feel this euphoric, almost cumming right then and there.

Mickey could never get over how you drastically change between morning and night — so divine and angelic in the morning with your hands reaching out to people in need of help, gaze soft and welcoming as melody of kindness and warm heart spill from your lips. You’re soft and warm, practically the epitome of peace with how everyone finds themselves relaxed around your presence. The sunlight creating an illusion of halo above your head. Light colored clothes and round spectacles adding more emphasis to your gentle tall giant persona. However, at night, you pull off that kind and perfect mask only to Mickey, soft smiles turning into cocky or arrogant grins and smirks, atmosphere entirely changing to that of lust and filthiness as your lips speak sinful words that never failed to make his head spin and heart jackhammer against his ribcage. You’re sly and arrogant, and too proud, to say the least. Very very prideful due to the knowledge that only you can manhandle, use, and ruin the Milkovich. An angel suddenly morphing into a sinful being.

He couldn’t get fucking enough of it despite the internalized homophobia tightly attached to his soul.

But with you, he doesn’t have to think about that. Insecurities that are drilled into his mind being pushed back by your sole presence; he doesn’t have to be afraid of being feminine or not matching the Society’s gender stereotype, because with you, he can be weak, vulnerable, good. There’s no toxic masculinity to hold him back.

Mickey was fucking addicted to this angelic sin, and you sure as hell felt the same even though words of confirmation never left your lips.

His mind started to go blank as you angled your hips to adjust your cock inside him, wanting to make sure it perfectly hits his prostate, before abruptly snapping your hips to his. Mickey cried out, nearly screaming when you started going deep and fast on him, the roughness of your thrusts making the desk almost move with each movement. “Oh! Ohhhh, fuck! Ahgh, mm!” His moans were loud, you’re sure the neighbors heard it. The stinging pain of your big fucking dick stretching him more open with each drag of your hips causing him to see stars in pleasure.

“Come on, baby,” You cooed, a big contrast to your relentless pace fucking his brains out. “You can take it more.”

Mickey whines, throwing his head back and eyes rolling back to his skull when you sink into him deeper, he could feel his stomach bulging from the thick and big size of your dick. “F-fuck, too deep... Yesyesyes, please, (Y/n), fuck— Fuck me more.”

He fucking loves it, the way your massive size and height never fails to have complete control over him. How your big body traps him between you and the desk, figure towering over him; it makes it so fucking easy for you to assert dominance and manhandle him however you please. He loves everything about you and your large frame.

“You love it, don’t ya? Having my cock so deep in you that it’s pokin’ your stomach? Ruining you, fuckin’ you dumb?” You chuckled, fastening your pace as uncontrollable moans and whimpers fall from Mickey’s lips. His mind in a daze, drool dripping from his open mouth that long forgot to close itself, fat tears running down his cheeks, the euphoric pleasure becoming too much.

“Y-yes, oh my god!” Mickey moaned, nodding his head vigorously. “Love—love it so fucking much,” He stuttered as another broken moan slips out.

You hum appreciatively, “Pretty little slut.” Leaning over him, your hand reached over to his throat and squeezed, earning a guttural moan from Mickey as his hole clenched tightly and his cock twitched. He tilts his head back and allows you more access to his throat, which encouraged you to squeeze more until he became light-headed.

“F-fuckfuckfuck, gonna cum, gonna cum,” Mickey breathlessly cries out, legs shaking violently as cum spilled from his rapidly twitching cock, vision seeing white and mind going absolutely dumb.

Groaning, you cursed quietly and let go of his wrists to grip his hips with both hands, continuing to pound into his oversensitive hole and ignoring his sobs of stop i just came, followed by screams of pleasure and overstimulation. He’s so sensitive it hurts, but he didn’t want you to stop despite his pleas to. He wanted you to use him, be your cum dump until you’re satisfied, wanted you to fill him to the brim and feel the white sticky cum dripping down his legs. He wanted you to take your frustrations out on him. He wanted to be your toy.

Mickey knows you know that. You know how he feels and how he thinks. It made excitement course through his veins, knowing you’re willing to fulfill every bit of his unspoken desire. You were angelic like that.

“Such a good boy,” You whispered, kissing his shoulder and making goosebumps rise on his skin. “Gonna make me cum, aren’t you? Let me fuck you ‘til I’m satisfied like a good boy, hm?”

“Yes, yes,” He nodded dumbly, slamming his hand against the desk and arching his back. You snapped your hips harshly, which made Mickey’s eyes roll back into his head as he came once again with a guttural moan, painting the side of the desk with his seed.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” You groaned, slamming your dick into him mercilessly, uncaring of how Mickey’s legs were giving up as your hands are the only thing that kept him up. His toes curling, nails scratching on the desk’s surface, sobs wrecking through his body. God, you were fucking ruining him. It made you shiver with sadistic thrill. Your thrusts slowly becomes sloppy with your own orgasm getting near, cock twitching inside him.

“In me, fuck, in me, please.” He whined, reaching back to grab your hand that was gripping his hips.

A grin spreads across your face and you intertwined your fingers with his, “Of course, sweetheart. Wouldn’t cum anywhere else.” You thrusted harshly a few times before burying your cock completely inside him as the orgasm hits, filling every bit of him with moans erupting from your throat. Mickey mewls, followed by a whimper, feeling the warmth inside, face showing absolute bliss. He touches the formed bulge on his stomach while letting out soft moans and whimpers, seemingly in trance.

Thrusting sloppily to ride out your high, you press kisses on his back before sinking your teeth on his shoulder to leave a bite mark. Mickey’s hips buckled, moaning.

“You’re mine, Mick.” You mutter in his ear, sending shivers down his spine. “No matter how much you deny, you’re mine. And at the end of the day, you’ll always come back to me, begging to be fucked and stuffed full.” Wrapping your hand around his throat again, you squeezed lightly as Mickey whimpered at the possessive gesture. “Can’t escape me forever, sweetheart.”

Mickey closes his eyes, humming and melting against your body, the denial dying down deep within his mind, looking almost in content.

He wouldn’t dream of it. You’re an angelic sin he could never repent of.

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lottiecrabie · 1 year

Note

in the linecook au either ross or george finding you and matty and joining in especially if its the end of the shift and they were supposed to go out and then trying to act like nothing happened but secretly exchanging glances all evening

OMG I SWEAR YOU GOT ME BLUSHING🫣 giggling to myself kicking my feet this is too good

okay, so matty is eating you out in the middle of the pantry (not before making some really obnoxious puns about ‘eating his meal’ and ‘where else can he find his food’). you sit on some crates and he kneels before you. there’s something ecstatic about the sight; a powerful man, angry and controlled and all-knowing, on his knees for you. a shiver passes through your shoulders, rolling your eyes into your skull.

it’s late at night so you’re not being exactly quiet, racking a hand through his curls and moaning freely. he’s got this fucking starved technique, licking at you with such hunger, trying to devour you like his favorite meal. your legs tremble, wrapping around his head, thighs threatening to suffocate him. he’s unbothered; he rubs your clit with only more enthusiasm, dipping long, spindly fingers inside of you, curling them just so.

you grip the shelves behind you, trying to hold onto something for dear life. pressure builds inside your stomach. you’re about to— you’re right— you scream, opening your eyes to warn matty.

instead, you find george staring at you, standing frozen in the door. his eyes are dark, traveling over your flushed face, your opened thighs, matty’s face buried between. your lips part in shock, ready to warn matty when—

matty flicks his tongue pointedly and it’s too late. you fall apart, stars spreading beneath your eyelids, screaming, ‘george!’

you try to catch your breath. matty arches an eyebrow under you, unimpressed, pissed. you flick your eyes beyond him. george is still there, clenching his jaw.

matty turns around. realization dawns on him as he catches the sight of his friend. he ups his chin at him, grinning. ‘hey, mate.’ mischievously, he takes his fingers out of you. a quiet whimper slips through your lips, but you bite it down vengefully. now that you’re not swimming in the dazed waters of pure, unfiltered euphoria, embarrassment climbs up your spine. you flush bright red, trying to push matty out of your still parted thighs.

instead, matty brandishes the two slick fingers to george, wiggling them as wetness strings between them. you die on the spot, surely. die and come back to your body just to live through all of it again. some divine punishment.

matty smirks, ‘want a taste?’

your heart skips a beat. george’s eyes lock with yours, still silent. too silent. what is he thinking under that impenetrable gaze of his? all that intensity only makes him more handsome. tall and big and sharp; a hazard you want to risk. telltale excitement drips between your thighs. the instinct of closing them rings in your head, but they’re still shamelessly hanging from matty’s shoulders.

‘c’mon, george,’ matty says now, egging him on. ‘it’s fucking sweet.’ as if to prove his point, he sucks one finger into his mouth, moaning exaggeratedly as he twists his tongue around it. he pops it out, smiling boyishly.

‘matty,’ george warns, voice low and gravely. you shiver at the sound, wanting him to say your name in that tone. needing it.

matty turns back to you, tsking. ‘guess he doesn’t want it, princess. oh well.’ he makes a move to stick the second one in his mouth, but george’s crowding his space the next second, gripping his wrist. matty laughs, mocking mastermind.

staring at you, he wraps his lips around matty’s wet middle finger. the sight is sinful. you moan, clenching around matty’s face.

‘think she likes it, mate,’ he says, teasing. ‘think she likes you.’ matty bites at your thigh, making you look down at him. ‘do you?’

you swallow. flick between the two men. thrill dances under your skin, sensing the incoming events. ‘yes.’

matty smiles, tapping your leg proudly. he stands from between them, wiggling two eyebrows to his friend.

george is still looking at you like he’s convinced he’s making you up in his mind. he trails two fingers on your naked thigh, making you shiver, when he says, ‘can’t believe you’ve been fucking her this whole time.’

‘jealous?’

‘maybe.’ his fingers adventure higher, tough callouses on the tip of them. ‘how is she?’

a blush spreads across your cheeks. shyness and embarrassment and the contrasting need pump in your veins. you should feel— you should be ashamed. instead, your thighs part instinctively, practically showing yourself on display.

‘tooth-rotting sweet. makes these pretty little noises, like she’s—‘

‘matty!’ you scold.

he looks down at you condescendingly, shushing. ‘we’re not talking to you, baby.’ he turns back to george. ‘sugary moans, but then when you find the right spot, rub just the right way, man, she screams.’

‘yeah,’ george nods, finding the apex of your thighs. you gasp, all the air of the room sucking in. ‘i heard that.’

he rubs at your clit with no shyness, almost familiar, like he memorized the spots when it was matty circling them with his tongue. like he was diligently learning.

it’s got the desired effect. your head falls back on the shelves, rolling your hips into his fingers. a loud moan spills from your lips.

‘see?’ matty laughs.

‘yes,’ george says, rubbing faster to make stringed pearls of whines fall from your mouth. ‘fucking sweet.’

matty smiles proudly, caressing your hair. you lean into the motion, practically purring. ‘perfect girl,’ he coos at you. you nod, head slack. ‘you’re beautiful.’

a happy giggle leaves you, distorted by a high-pitched yell as george slips two long fingers inside of you. the stretch is tight, bigger than matty’s. you scrunch your face, breathing out, ‘shit, george.’

he curls them, thrusting in and out, smirking smugly at his friend. ‘i think your girl likes me best.’

matty slaps his shoulder. ‘piss off.’

george laughs, bending down to you. ‘you do, right? tell him.’ as though to plead his case, he slips in and out faster, digging his free hand into the meat of your thigh.

‘you’re a dickhead.’

‘and your girl wants the dick and the head.’ a snort bursts out of you. even matty huffs some smothered laugh, shaking his head.

‘she’s got a rule about puns when you’re inside of her, by the way.’

george arches an eyebrow. ‘how many have you made to warrant the placing of a rule.’

out of breath, you giggle, ‘too many.’

‘i can’t stop being hilarious. it’s part of me.’

george rolls his eyes, unconvinced. he fucks into you faster. a telltale pressure builds into you. feeling the edge of the cliff teeter under your toes, you grip george’s forearm, digging your claws in the tattooed skin.

‘let’s give him a show,’ george coos. ‘show him how it’s really done.’

‘oi!’

with a laugh, your eyes roll back, pleasure gathering in a tight, coiling ball, then blasting free. it wipes through your limbs. you shake, screaming, clawing at george’s arm.

matty’s caressing hand on your head soothes you back down. you grin lazily, body loose.

‘you did so good,’ matty promises, kissing your jaw. ‘so, so good for us.’

george slips his fingers out of you, sucking them into his mouth and licking them clean. ‘fuck.’

‘well, don’t get too obsessed.’

matty helps you down from the crate, lowering your skirt back. the floor seems to ripple under you. he takes you by the cheek, kissing your forehead. dropping an arm around your shoulder, he turns back to george. ‘how about that beer, then?’

#i am making demon noises rn btw #this became less linecook!au and more regular matty and george lol #linecook!au #blurb #ask #smut

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sebastiansallcw · 1 year

Note

Hi! Could I request an Ominis fic where you’re his date for the Yule ball? Absolutely no pressure by the way <3

an: obviously this is my first request for ominis, let alone in general. i hope this is okay and you enjoy. please feel free to send more or any advice to make it more ~Ominis~. thank you for requesting as well <3 wc: 1006 warnings: just fluff and sweetness

When Ominis asked Y/N to accompany him to the Yule Ball, she was taken aback and thrilled at the same time. Despite sharing classes and partnering up in potions and divination, she never considered that Ominis saw her as more than just a fellow student.

As the date of the event approached, Sebastian's teasing of Ominis intensified. Ominis tried to suppress his feelings for Y/N, aware of the endless ribbing he would receive from Sebastian and Anne. However, his crush on Y/N seemed to blossom from nowhere. One day, Y/N walked into class smelling of peppermint and that was when Ominis started to think of her more often.

Anytime he smelt peppermint, he instantly thought of her and what she would be doing. Maybe she was in the library with her friends, or adventuring out into Hogsmeade (he did overhear her gushing about a scarf at Gladrags).

Or maybe it was when her hand brushed against his as they both reached for a glass jar. He recoiled quickly, almost regretting his brash decision. She felt warm against his cool skin. She quickly muttered an apology before continuing with her craft. He noticed how sweet she was to him and patient, especially in rare cases his wand misguided him.

Y/N admired his soft movements, maybe not soft, but every flick of his wand was executed with care and precision, as if each movement held a critical significance. He was intentional in his actions, avoiding any missteps or sloppiness in his spellwork. He knew she was staring the majority of the time, but he enjoyed being admired by someone.

Ominis found himself increasingly drawn to Y/N. He couldn't shake the thought of her sweet scent, her smile that lit up the room, and her intelligence that left him in awe. He found himself eagerly anticipating their classes together and the conversations they shared. Sebastian teased Ominis that his cloudy days were clearing up–he didn’t seem so pessimistic anymore, or at least the days where he’d partner beside Y/N.

Ominis leaned against the stone wall, waiting patiently for Y/N to arrive at the agreed-upon meeting spot. Ominis wore a sleek black ensemble accented with rich emerald green. The sound of students entering the ball echoed around him, filled with excitement and nervous energy. He could hear couples giggling as they linked arms, and the hushed whispers of others discussing the appearance of their fellow students.

Sebastian stood by his friend's side, offering his support as they waited for Y/N's arrival. Despite his confidence in Y/N's character, he couldn't shake the nagging fear that she might not show up. He had heard rumors of cruel pranks being played on students during the Yule Ball, and he didn't want Ominis to be left standing alone.

And then, she was there. Sebastian nudged Ominis, "If you could see her right now..."

"Don't even think about it, Sallow," Ominis replied, but Sebastian was already turning him to face her. He watched as she descended the stairs, her dress flowing behind her like a river of silk. The scent of peppermint filled the air, reminding Ominis of the first day he began to see her as more than just a classmate.

Y/N's smile lit up her face as she saw Ominis, and she waved to Sebastian before he gave Ominis a pat on the shoulder and disappeared inside. "You're looking quite handsome," she complimented. "But your tie, it's a bit crooked. Do you mind?" she asked, reaching out to straighten it.

Ominis couldn't help but feel the warmth of her touch, sending shivers down his spine. He felt like he was on cloud nine as she adjusted his tie, and he couldn't help but feel the close proximity between them made his heart race.

"There we go," she said with a grin, and Ominis could only nod in agreement. "Are you ready to go inside?" she asked.

"More than ever," he replied, and they made their way inside, hand in hand. The beginning of the dance was a little awkward, with their hands barely brushing against each other, but it felt intentional to Ominis. As Y/N nervously tapped her foot, he found himself reaching out to comfort her, squeezing her thigh.

Her cheeks flushed at his touch, and Ominis felt a rush of excitement. As more students began to dance, he stood up and held out his hand, inviting her to dance with him. They stepped onto the floor, and Ominis was lost in the moment. He relished the feeling of her hand in his, the texture of her dress, and the occasional squeeze she gave while they danced together.

“Those dancing classes really helped me. I’m glad I’m not stepping on your feet.” She confessed.

"I knew it," Ominis said, grinning. "You have such an elegant way of moving and a refined touch in everything you do. I'm not surprised that the dancing classes have helped you ."

He then added, "And don't worry about stepping on my feet. I trust your moves and I'm having a great time with you."

Y/N smiled, feeling a flutter in her stomach at his words. "Thank you, I try my best. I couldn't imagine making a fool of myself on the dance floor." she replied.

Y/N felt her cheeks flush with pride, grateful for the compliment. She smiled back at Ominis, and the two continued to dance, lost in the rhythm of the music and each other's company.

As they twirled on the dance floor, surrounded by the merrymaking of their classmates, they both felt a sense of blissful peace. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them, lost in each other's touch.

Ominis leaned in, close enough that Y/N could feel his breath on her cheek. "I'm so glad you agreed to come with me tonight," he whispered.

"I'm glad too," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

#ominis gaunt #posting your writing is so intimidating tbh #shaking in my boots #answered #requested

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tackytigerfic · 4 months

Note

“Email: [AO3] tackytiger posted Wield Me”

The moment i received this email, I just knew that I will be allotting a very specific, nonnegotiable time to lie down and read.

That scene. When Draco thought of the way Harry and Teddy looked at the archway and realized what their mission is. Harry and Draco’s something. That part. Harry. Teddy. Draco’s thoughts. His work. Harry’s leg. How I suddenly had a newfound appreciation for blacksmithing, so artful and intricately described, and other things I wanted to mention, which, by the way, is everything.

Okay. Deep, deep, inhale.

Wield Me is so, so, vivid. I felt cold water run down my spine at the atmosphere and how it flowed so phenomenally. I’m not in the slightest bit kidding when I say I ugly sobbed all the way through. After reading the last word, I slumped, and stared blankly at the wall as I felt all the tugging in my chest. I just can’t believe I’ve read something so divine. Thank you.

P.S. I hope you feel better with each and every day!

Dear @kk1smet, what a delight it was to get this ask. I think many fic writers would agree that one of the nicest things is hearing not just that someone liked their fic, but what they liked about it. it always gives me such a thrill, even now, nearly five years after i wrote my first ever fic (five!!! how???) because it reminds me that fandom is part of a wider tradition of storytelling within a community, of sharing and of giving. to get to chat to people who love these guys as much as i do, and to feel part of something that's more than just me at a laptop writing for myself. plus, a comment like this lets me get to know you a bit more, and find out what makes you tick, and i love that!

truly, i never expect comments, and I never want anyone to feel under pressure to leave a comment. but that just means that when i do get a comment like this, it comes as the most beautiful and thrilling surprise. thank you so much for taking the time to send this, and for all the wonderful art you gift us with.

#drarry #asked and answered #lovely people being lovely #rowing and chatting #seriously am emotional now #so so happy you liked this one

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kay-elle-cee · 1 year

Text

A Thrill Divine, Down My Spine || Read on Ao3 || 2K Words

“Oh shove it, Potter. I’m just saying. You’re like…a really nice glass of Ogden’s Old,” she says, eyeing a bottle of the spirit and signaling to the barkeep. A little lost for words, James stares at her. “How strong was that drink?” “You know what I'm getting at — like a really good thing personified. Take a compliment Potter, God.” She turns on her stool to face him, sliding one of the firewhiskies his way. Or: Two totally platonic friends get drinks after a rough day.

Happy Valentine's Day, friends! This fic came around because I listened to "You're The Top" from Anything Goes too many times 🙃

#a thrill divine down my spine #jily #james potter #lily evans #jple #canon divergence #oneshot #kelsey writes #kay elle cee #marauders fic #jily fic #fluff

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jilytoberfest · 6 months

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Teenage Audiences and Up rated fics

Rules: It is not necessary to re-read the stories given below again. Having read them once in the past past year is more than enough! This challenge will go on till the 23th of October! As and when you’re done getting a bingo, post the finished bingo card on your blog, tagging this account! Whosoever posts the proper finished bingo first, wins (or anyone who’s read all/most of these fics)

The full list of fics and authors are below the cut:

Ao3 Is Down by @annabtg

Relationship advice by @gwenmontrose

Gilded by @charmingwillow

Icebreaker by @jamesunderwater @charmsandtealeaves

Meet Me At Midnight by @practicecourts

The summer I fell in love @annasghosts

Enchanted by @ohmygodshesinsane

Take a chance on me by @wearingaberetinparis

To the Potter Boy I Hated Before by @chierafied

You Make Snow Melt by @wearingaberetinparis

What would you do by @sunshinemarauder

Young and Restless by @annabtg

Serendipity by desperateforsanity (I’d love it if someone can @ their tumblr blog, i couldn’t find it)

to love by @possessingtheproperspirit

Knock, Knock, Knockin’ on Evans’ Door by DropTheBasil

it aches a little by @fireblts

A Thrill Divine, Down My Spine by @kay-elle-cee

you don't know me (but I know you) by @emeralddoeadeer

Back then you knew I always liked you by @saptashati

Never Quite Awake by @sunshinemarauder

when resiliency shatters by @kay-elle-cee

Customer In Law by @annabtg

At the Beginning by @suzyq31

a million on the scoville scale by @clare-with-no-i

Big Little Lion Man. (Curiosity Killed the Cat But Satisfaction Brought it Back) by @practicecourts

#jily #jilytober #jilytober2023 #jilytoberfest2023 #jilyreadersbingo

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milfgyuu · 1 year

Text

Wicked Delights [M] Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x Fem!Reader Tags: 1k, Addams Family!AU, Romance, Smut 18+ Prompt: “How did you convince them to do this?” → @shmooooo Summary: Creepy, kooky, mysterious, and spooky. *snap* *snap*

Warnings: Sexually Explicit Content 18+, MDNI, unprotected sex, oral (f), body worship, lots of pet names, restraint. This is a gomez x morticia au so there are spooky themes and dialogue throughout! mention of a knife, broken glass, blood for a “costume”, similar jokes made in the movies and yes - the children are indeed feral.

Surely you’re accustomed to more…peculiarities than than most but your precious little heathens all dressed up and ready to hit the town is quite a sight.

“And where are you two headed?”

Your son grins, the spiked baseball run through with nails and shrapnel bent at all different angles swinging loosely from his chubby hand. “We’re going trick or treating!”

Your brows raise. “Are you now? I thought you hated candy.”

“We’re not interested in candy,” your daughter answers. She’s slightly muffled behind her defiled hockey mask and your eyes twinkle with pride and intrigue at the dark red splatter across her clothing. “We’re going to terrorize the neighborhood.”

“Thrilling.”

Long fingers splay over your stomach as your husband reaches the bottom of the stairwell, grinning proudly at his prodigy. “Don’t you both look nefarious!”

“I’m an escaped convict!” your son puffs out his chest and you chuckle under your breath.

“What are the charges?” Your husband asks with barely contained glee.

Your son ticks them off one by one. “Multiple accounts of arson, assault, homicide, conspiracy, and,” he shrugs, “Tax fraud.”

Jeonghan laughs. “Excellent! And what about you, my fallen angel?”

Your daughter lifts her knife, “I’m a homicidal maniac,” she then glances at her brother through the mask and back up to you, “I haven’t been caught though.”

You wink at her. “Of course not.”

Your husband couldn’t be happier. “That’s my girl - insidious and intelligent as always,” he stubs his cigar out on the bannister and pockets the remainder, “Go on now children! Tear up the town - burn it to the ground! Have a blast!”

Your daughter peers up at her brother and lifts her mask to ask, “Did you bring the explosives?”

He nods in affirmation and they disappear out the manor doors just before they slam shut on a phantom breeze.

Those fingers squeeze proprietarily and you smirk.

“Darling,” you tilt your head to the side as Jeonghan kisses a long wet trail from your ear down to your shoulder, “How did you convince them to do this?”

“Beloved,” he purrs, tongue tracing your jaw, “Our children needn’t any convincing to unleash utter mayhem on the townsfolk but I might have told them they could resurrect a few mummies from the crypt if they kept away til morning.”

Finally meeting his gaze, he smirks, his handsome face lighting a fire low in your belly.

“On All Hallows Eve?” you grin, “Delightful.”

Muscles stretched taut, bones like jelly, you keen under the pressure of such a wonderful, torturous position. Your hands shackled to the headboard, upholstered black velvet caressing your knuckles. It’s a small consolation for not being able to run your hands through Jeonghan’s silken hair but oh how he makes up for it in the way he feasts on you like a connoisseur.

The dagger he’d used to cut away the cloth from your body lay discarded on the pillow next to you, glinting dangerously, beautifully. The ghostly feeling of it’s pointed tip pressing into your soft skin sending shivers up your spine.

Oh, your husband, your lover…what a divine mind in that beautiful head of his.

How you’d love to crack it open and study it’s innerworkings.

How fascinating it is to lay beneath him and experience the way he alights all of your senses at once, finely tuned to your every move, your every breath.

“Magnificent,” he breathes against you when you sink back into the bed, dragging himself away slowly, lips pressing against your naked body along the way, “Radiant,” he purrs as he sheathes himself inside, grinning like a fiend as your mouth falls open.

“There isn’t a woman alive or otherwise that could ever compare to you.”

“I shall gloat over Drizelda’s grave for eternity, Darling.”

Jeonghan chuckles but it’s caught on a long moan as he pulls you closer - your arms burning, blinding white heat flashing behind your eyes. Your back and shoulders scream in protest and you scream aloud, the manor around you quaking with the force of it.

“You’re absolutely bewitching, my dear,” he crows, brows furrowed impossibly tight, “Even the queen of the banshees couldn’t hold a candle to your cries when you scream for me. You’re going to make them jealous of that lovely voice of yours.”

You back arches high into the air, almost levitating, and Jeonghan suckles your chest as he nears. Your eyes squeeze shut, stomach like a roiling, raging storm on the ocean. Lightning strikes with incredible force, blue light illuminating your bodies.

When you come together, glass shatters near the bed.

The window entirely blown out.

Jeonghan sits back on his heels and spits a large, jagged, shard from his mouth and smirks down at you. “Shame, we just had that repaired.”

You hum, rubbing your body against the satin sheets and reveling in the way Jeonghan’s eyes track the movements. He flicks a thumb over your peaked nipple and croons, “A bit drafty though…isn’t it?”

Your eyes alight with mischief, “Shall we break another?”

“Oh, I plan to bring the whole house down before dawn.”

You arch into his touch with a grin, “You ghoul.”

“My temptress,” he answers, wicked tongue snaking out to seer against your skin.

The children are spent when they return in the morning, leaving the ravaged town behind to find every window in the manor blown out. It’s seems a bit more crooked than when they’d left last night. The cursed gargoyle statues about the towering peaks have their hands cemented over their ears. The front door swinging off the hinges on one side.

“What happened?”

Your daughter extends her arm, cleaning her long dirtied butcher’s knife off on her sleeve.

“Our parents had sex.”

Your son blinks a few times. The soot on his face irritating his nose.

“Ok,” he says and then turns to his sister with a conspiratorial grin, “Do you want breakfast before we go to the crypt?”

She only takes a moment to decide and begins striding toward the doors.

Your son hurries to follow her as she calls out over her shoulder. “Resurrections are no good on an empty stomach. Breakfast first.”

This was so fun to write! Thanks for reading!

Halloween 2022 | SVT M.List | Main M.List

→ Please do NOT copy, repost, or translate, any of my works here on tumblr or on any other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, Milfgyuu, 2019. ©️

#halloween drabbles 2022 #svt fanfic #jeonghan fanfic #svthub #caratwritersclub #kdiarynet #kwritersworldnet #seventeen fanfic #jeonghan smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #au #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #lana writes

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downbad4yoongi · 3 months

Text

Fall from Grace

🤍Pairing: Demon!Jin x Angel!Jimin 🤍WC: 5,058 🤍Genre/warnings: angel and demons au, betrayal, smut, fluff

🤍Rating: R

🤍Summary: The rules for angels and demons are simple and straightforward, and can be summed up as: don’t interact.

A/N: This story is part of BTS Fests' Angels & Demons Fest!

Thank you to my betas: @colormepurplex2 and @moonleeai. Many hugs to @colormepurplex2 for my banner.

A Flicker in the Twilight

The twilight hums with the city’s heartbeat. Neon gods of advertisement pulse against the fading sky, casting a garish glamor on the throngs below. Lost in the kaleidoscope of chrome and flesh, Jin savors the symphony of human anxieties. They pulse through him, a delectable chaos dancing on his tongue. It is like the finest wine, this mortal cocktail – intoxicating, unpredictable, infinitely more thrilling than the bland ambrosia of his celestial past.

Leaning against the side of a building, Jin, once a grotesque tapestry of shadow and bone, now shimmers with angelic grace, courtesy of a botched mission and a particularly potent curse. He revels in the dissonance, the whispers of his true nature tickling the edges of his angelic façade. Humans, constantly oblivious to the storm brewing inside him, mistake his charm for benevolence, his mischievous grin for a divine smile. He is a wolf in sheep’s clothing, a predator in a sanctuary of light.

He twirls a strand of hair as he watches the countless hordes of faceless humans stride past him. Humans, like fireflies, flit across the avenues, their souls like flickering flames. Most hold no interest, their predictability a dull ache in his immortal boredom. But then, a glint of pure, celestial light catches his eye. An angel, disguised in the borrowed flesh of a human youth, stands on the corner adjacent to him, radiating an aura as vibrant as a sunrise. He watches on as the angel, resplendent even in the mortal flesh, navigates the human tide with an awkward grace.

Jimin's name echoes in Jin’s mind, a whisper plucked from the supernatural airwaves. Jin cocks his head, watching the celestial, discerning that he is a novice. Jimin is inexperienced, a wide-eyed fawn in a wolf’s den.

Jimin’s innocence is like virgin snow, pure and untainted, waiting to be imprinted with the dark designs of Jin’s twisted amusement.

The perfect game piece.

A thrill dances through Jin like a lightning bolt, not the usual hum of predatorial amusement, but something altogether sharper, more intoxicating. A mischievous curl creeps onto Jin’s lips. With a practiced grace, that has been honed from centuries of deception, he weaves through the throng, the city lights glinting off his unseen wings.

“Lost, little lamb?” Jin’s voice, honeyed and smooth, cuts through the city’s cacophony.

Jimin turns, his cognac eyes widening in surprise. The golden rays emanating from his disguised form cast an ethereal glow across the chaotic street. But it is the darkness, a whisper hidden in the depths of his gaze, that draws Jin in. A flicker of rebellion, a crack in the otherworldly armor.

Jimin, drawn by a force he can’t comprehend, steps closer. The aura around Jin, a faint hum of darkness, should send him fleeing. Yet, he finds himself drawn deeper, a curiosity eclipsing his fear, curiosity over encountering another being like himself.

“N-no,” Jimin stammers, adjusting his borrowed human form with self-conscious fiddling. “Just…observing.”

Jin chuckles. “Observing the fascinating creatures of this earth, are we?” Jin offers a hand. “Well, allow me to offer some guidance. I know these streets better than any moonbeam.” This isn’t just amusement anymore. This is a challenge, a dance on the precipice of forbidden desire.

Jimin hesitates, the wings under his human guise rustle like whispered prayers. Then, with a sigh that ruffles the city air, he takes the offered hand, his fingers brushing against Jin’s with a spark that sends shivers down the demon’s spine.

“Thank you,” Jimin breathes, his gaze lingers on Jin for a beat too long, a whisper of starlight battling the celestial fire in his eyes.

The walk through the bustling city offers a motley of sights and smells for Jimin. Jin, his guide and tormentor in equal measure, navigates the throngs with practiced ease, a picture of casual charm. Jimin, on the other hand, is a clumsy swan in a human pond, his borrowed skin prickling with unease.

“So, earth delights you?” Jin asks, his voice a silken thread woven through the city’s hum.

Jimin blushes, his celestial aura flickering like an overeager candle. “It’s…overwhelming,” he admits, his voice barely a whisper. “So much chaos, so much life.”

Jin chuckles a rich, dark sound that resonates in Jimin’s chest. “A chaos that dances to its own rhythm, wouldn’t you say?” He stops abruptly, his eyes glinting with an amusement that sends a tingle down Jimin’s spine. “Does it resonate with you, little angel?”

Jimin’s wings twitch under his borrowed skin. He knows he shouldn’t linger, and he can sense that there is more to Jin than he sees. Yet, Jin’s presence is a maelstrom he can’t seem to resist.

“There’s something…” Jimin begins, his voice barely a sigh. “A spark in this chaos, a warmth that draws me in.” He meets Jin’s gaze, the astral fire in his eyes battling the forbidden embers that flicker there.

Jin’s smile deepens, a knowing curve that sends a shiver down Jimin’s spine. “Ah, the forbidden fruit, angel. Sweetest when plucked from the branches of danger.” He leans in, his breath a whisper of brimstone against Jimin’s ear. “But remember, little one, even the most tempting fruit can leave a bitter taste.”

Jimin’s heart hammers against his ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a gilded cage. The spark in Jin’s eyes, the warmth of his touch, draws him in like a moth to a flame.

“I…I don’t care about the consequences,” Jimin whispers, his voice barely a tremor. “I only know that this moment, this feeling, it’s worth the risk.”

Jin’s smile widens, a predatory glint in his eyes. “Foolish angel,” he murmurs, his voice a caress. “Then let us dance, shall we? Let us taste the forbidden fruit and see if its sweetness outweighs the sting.”

He slips his hand around Jimin’s, his touch sending a jolt of forbidden electricity through the angel’s borrowed form. And with that, they step deeper into the city’s twilight.

Eventually, their journey finds them using a fire escape to settle on a rooftop. The city sprawls out beneath them like a glittering tapestry. The wind whispers secrets through the night, carrying the scent of jasmine and asphalt. Jin feels a flicker of something unexpected. Not the sharp thrill of anticipation, but a pang of something akin to regret.

Was it the way Jimin’s youthful face pales in the moonlight or the earnest tremor in his voice as he whispers, “This place is beautiful,” that touches a dormant chord within Jin?

For a fleeting moment, Jin sees himself reflected in Jimin's starlit eyes. Not the monstrous entity of shadow and bone, but the young, ethereal creator he once was before the curse, before the fall. An echo of the celestial light he had long extinguished in himself.

Jin feels a strange vulnerability bloom within himself, a yearning for something he can’t name. Standing back, observing Jimin’s awe, he shakes himself. This is just a game, a predator’s pursuit—no room for hesitation, no space for compassion.

Yet, as Jimin turns to him, his face alight with wonder, Jin finds himself hesitating. For the first time in centuries, the predator holds back, the wolf unsure of its prey.

The game had just begun, and the rules, it seemed, were about to change.

Jin’s façade trembles under Jimin’s gaze, the carefully crafted mask of charm threatening to crack under the weight of an unwelcome emotion. The devil within him snarls, urging him to pounce, to exploit the celestial’s trust. Yet, the merest whisper against the infernal damnation of his being echoes louder, a flicker of empathy he can’t quite extinguish.

Jin swallows the tightness in his throat, forcing his lips into a familiar, playful smirk. “Beautiful indeed, little lamb. This is just the beginning. There are secrets woven into this city’s very fabric, waiting to be unraveled.”

Jimin tilts his head, the naive curiosity in his eyes still undimmed. “Will you help me find them?”

The question hangs in the air, a challenge and an invitation. Jin stares into the depths of those starlit eyes, searching for a hint of suspicion, a flicker of fear. But there is only trust, a pure and unadulterated yearning for knowledge and adventure.

In that moment, the predator falters. The game, he realizes, isn’t just about to change. It is about to shatter. He could still twist the knife, manipulate Jimin’s trust for his own amusement, but the thrill feels hollow, poisoned by the unexpected pang of something akin to…responsibility.

He takes a deep breath, the scent of night air filling his lungs. “Yes,” he says, the word heavy on his tongue. “I’ll help you.”

The decision tastes like ashes in his mouth, a bitter compromise between his monstrous nature and the ghost of his celestial past. He watches the smile blossom on Jimin’s face, a light that could rival the moon. Jin knows this isn’t just a game anymore. It is a dance on the precipice, a perilous tango between darkness and light, with the fate of two celestial souls hanging in the balance.

His gaze lingers on Jimin, the forbidden yearning gnawing at this resolve. This isn’t part of the plan, this impossible, intoxicating pull. But as Jimin’s eyes meet his, a larger spark of uncertainty ignites within the demon, and the fragile dam around Jin’s desires crumbles. Jin’s breath hitches. He knows the danger, the impossibility of their connection. But in the face of Jimin’s vulnerability, his own desire pulses with a forbidden fire.

Their lips meet in a kiss, a clash of celestial fire and demonic embers. It is a taste of forbidden fruit, sweet and intoxicating. As their lips part, a gasp escapes Jimin's mouth, a flicker of fear battling with the dawning realization of what they were doing. Jin sees it, the internal war raging within the angel. And in that moment, he knows the game has definitely changed. This isn’t just a dance with fate; it is a tightrope walk over the abyss, a gamble with their very souls.

But as the city lights shimmer around them, casting their forbidden tryst in a seductive glow, Jin can’t help but smile. He is a demon in angel's clothing, and he has just found his most tempting sin.

The night stretches before them, a blank canvas waiting to be painted with the colors of their forbidden desire. And as they stand there, bathed in the twilight, the city holds its breath, waiting to see what masterpiece would be born from the ashes of their celestial clash.

Whispers in the Moonlight

The city, a pulsing tapestry of sin and salvation, thrums with the electric tension of their forbidden entanglement. As dawn bleeds into dusk, Jin and Jimin meet in the shadowed corner of a long abandoned courtyard, hearts echoing a forbidden rhythm. Jin, cloaked in starlight, leads Jimin on a waltz through the neon wilderness, every whisper a searing brand against the angel’s soul.

Jimin, wings folded beneath a borrowed human skin, wrestles with the celestial fire simmering within. Duty whispers harsh reprimands, yet defiance roars like a caged beast. Jin, the devil on his shoulder, grins with eyes like bottomless pools, each touch a whispered promise of rebellion.

The city lights shimmer on Jimin’s skin, turning his eyes into molten gold. He trembles, not from fear, but from the intoxicating mix of temptation and longing that Jin ignites inside him.

Jin leans in close enough for Jimin to feel the warmth of his breath against his cheek. “Do you hear it, angel?” he utters, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down Jimin’s spine. “The city’s heartbeat, pulsing with the rhythm of our forbidden song?”

His words are steeped in temptation. Jimin feels the celestial fire flicker, threatened by the seductive darkness Jin offers. He yearns to know the taste of rebellion, to shed the shackles of angelic rigidity and fly on the wings of his own desires.

Jimin, his heart a frantic drum against ribs, swallows hard. He can hear it, echoing in the symphony of car horns and distant laughter, a primal pulse that mirrors the yearning of his soul.

“It’s… maddening,” he whispers, his voice barely audible above the city’s din.

Jin chuckles, a sound like tinkling ice against velvet. “Maddeningly beautiful, isn’t it?”

His thumb brushes the crest of Jimin’s cheek, the touch sending a jolt of forbidden electricity through him. Jimin’s eyes melt even further under the neon sky and meet Jin’s, the heat of their gaze a silent conversation—unspoken questions dance in the air between them.

“Jin,” Jimin breathes, his voice hoarse with a mixture of fear and exhilaration. “I… I can’t do this. Not anymore.”

The words hang heavy in the air, a discordant note introduced to their orchestra. Jin’s smile falters for a moment but is quickly masked by his impassive façade. “And what, angel,” he drawls, his voice laced with a dangerous edge, “is it that you can’t do?”

Jimin flinches at the challenge in Jin’s eyes. He knows he is playing with fire. While romantic dalliances with other angels aren’t forbidden, they aren’t looked on kindly, which is enough to deter most.

But something, some spark of rebellion, ignites deep within him, refusing to be silenced.

“I can’t deny this,” he says, his voice gaining strength with every word. “This…this fire that burns between us. We may be angels, Jin, but we are also men. And this city, this dark and beautiful chaos…it sings a song that my soul yearns to hear.”

The silence that follows Jimin’s confession is thick with unspoken tension. Jin’s eyes, usually warm and playful, flicker with a hidden storm. He takes a step toward Jimin, his gaze raking over him with an intensity that sends a shiver down the younger angel’s spine.

The city lights, once a backdrop to their clandestine meetings, now throb with a new meaning. The neon signs bleed into their vision, painting the shadows on their faces with a kaleidoscope of emotions. The symphony of car horns and distant laughter becomes a seductive song, urging them closer to the edge of what is and what isn’t permissible.

Jimin, emboldened by the defiance in Jin’s eyes, reaches out, his fingers tracing the delicate curve of Jin’s jaw. The touch is a spark, igniting a wildfire that threatens to consume them both. Jin’s breath hitches, and for a fleeting moment, his celestial façade flickers, revealing the hungry demon beneath.

Jin, feigning reluctance, breathes, “We can’t. The consequences…”

But Jimin, his heart pounding a forbidden drumbeat, cuts him off. “Consequences be damned,” he whispers, his lips brushing against Jin’s ear.

With that, he pulls Jin into a kiss, a desperate, hungry press of lips that speaks volumes of unspoken yearnings. The kiss is a rebellion, a declaration of defiance against the sterile order of their celestial existence. It is a taste of the forbidden fruit, a glimpse of a world where love, not duty, dictates their actions.

As they break apart, breathless and reeling, the city lights seem to dance in celebration. The air crackles with an electric tension, the very fabric of their world shimmering with the weight of their choice. One of them knows the path they are embarking on is fraught with danger, while the other leads them down this defiant path. In that moment, surrounded by the cacophony of the city, they only see each other, a beacon of light in the darkness.

The moon, a pearl amidst the velvet tapestry of night, bathes the hidden courtyard in an ethereal glow. Jasmine tendrils, heavy with moonlit secrets, cling to the crumbling brick walls, weaving a fragrant canopy above Jimin and Jin. Here, within the shadows, the celestial rules morph and blur, their breaths forming wispy constellations against the obsidian sky.

Jin, his dark hair a curtain against the lunar silver, cradles Jimin’s face in his hands. “There’s more to existence than humans and harp strings, angel,” he murmurs, his voice a caress against Jimin’s trembling lips. “The world whispers forgotten stories.”

Jimin, his resolve a fluttering moth against Jin’s intoxicating whispers, surrenders. He longs for the taboo secrets Jin offers, each a forbidden fruit bursting with a thousand forbidden flavors. Jin speaks of earthly music that makes the soul quake, of laughter that echoes through cobbled streets, of the bittersweet tang of tears shed for love and loss. He paints the world with his words, worlds where angels dance with mortals, where moonlight sculpts shadows into lovers’ embraces.

“And you,” Jin murmurs, his lips trailing along Jimin’s jaw, “you, my angel, hold within you the music of a thousand unplayed instruments. Let me hear your orchestra,” he pleads, his voice raw with the hunger for what they both know is improper.

Jimin, his hidden wings trembling like fervent prayers, traces the forbidden map of Jin’s lips. “I… I fear the melody might be discordant,” he breathes, his voice a thread lost in the music of the night.

Jin chuckles, a sound like wind chimes kissed by the starlight. “Then let me be your maestro, angel,” he whispers, his lips brushing against Jimin’s ear. “Together, we’ll orchestrate a symphony that will defy the heavens themselves.”

And so, under the moon’s silent gaze, they meld into one as their clothes litter the cobblestone around them. Jin’s hands overflow with the ample bounty of Jimin’s ass as he eliminates any molecule of space between them. The air around them resonates with the vibrations of their moans as their thickened shafts slide against each other.

As their bodies move in harmony, a symphony of passion and desire, the boundaries between heaven and earth blur. Jimin clings to Jin, his nails digging into the smooth expanse of Jin’s back, each thrust of their hips driving them closer to the precipice of ecstasy. The courtyard, once a sheltered sanctuary, now bears witness to their entwined forms, the moonlight casting ethereal shadows upon their skin.

Their rhythm quickens, urgency fueled by the forbidden nature of their love. Jimin’s breath hitches as pleasure courses through him like an electric current. He presses his forehead against Jin’s, their eyes locked in a fierce gaze that speaks of devotion and rebellion. At this moment, they are no longer angels bound by celestial laws; they are simply two souls set on fire, seeking solace in each other’s embrace.

The symphony of car horns and distant laughter fades into the background as their moans fill the air, mingling with the rustle of the jasmine tendrils above. The earthy scent of the cobblestones mixes with the musk of their desire, the ground trembling beneath the force of their passion.

Jin leans in, his lips brushing against Jimin’s neck, his voice a whisper against his skin. “Fear not, my love,” he says. “Our music is perfect, even in its forbidden form.”

Jimin gasps as Jin thrusts harder against him, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through him. He reaches up, his fingers tangling in Jin’s hair, his nails biting into his scalp. “Yes, Jin,” he moans, “make me your muse.”

The two continue their dance of passion, their bodies moving in perfect harmony. The jasmine tendrils above, heavy with blooms, seem to sway in time with their movements, adding a sweet fragrance to the air. Their moans echo through the courtyard, the sound of two souls joining together in a forbidden ensemble. The moon watches over them, its light casting silvery beams upon their entwined forms. As they reach the crescendo, their bodies colliding and surrendering to the forbidden music, the world around them seems to pause in reverence.

Finally, the moment arrives. The tension between them is palpable as they stand on the brink of the abyss. Jin's eyes lock onto Jimin's, his gaze intense and full of desire. In that moment, their connection is tangible. Jimin's fingers tug at Jin's hair, pulling him closer. Jin's lips devour Jimin's in an all-consuming kiss, the taste of forbidden fruit on their tongues. The air around them crackles with electricity, singeing the air surrounding them.

Jin's hips thrust harder against Jimin, their movements syncopated and raw. The heat from their bodies radiates outward, leaving the rest of the world behind. Their existence is limited to this moment, this place, this kiss.

As the last shuddering breath leaves their lips, they collapse against each other, their bodies spent. The moon's gaze fades, and the courtyard returns to its quiet solitude.

In the aftermath, Jin and Jimin lay entangled in each other's arms, their breaths slowing and their hearts beating as one. Jin knew this moment would come, but he had not anticipated the depths of emotions that would ensue. He feels a mix of euphoria and trepidation, his heart pounding in his chest.

Jimin, on the other hand, struggles with the implications of their actions. He had thought to quash his longings, keeping them hidden beneath layers of celestial duty. Now, he finds those same longings have become impossible to ignore.

The consequences of their tryst linger on the horizon, a faint dissonance in the night’s melody. But for now, they bask in the lingering traces of their forbidden love. Jimin's fingers trace delicate patterns on Jin's bare skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. He looks up into Jin's eyes, the weight of their actions and the uncertainty of the future settling upon him like a heavy cloak.

"What have we done?" Jimin whispers, his voice laced with both regret and longing. "Is this worth defying everything we know?"

Jin's gaze meets Jin's, his eyes filled with a mixture of emotions that Jimin can't fully read. "Perhaps," he replies softly, "love is not meant to be bound by rules and expectations. Maybe it is meant to be wild, untamed, and willing to risk everything."

Jimin's heart swells at Jin's words, his fingers tightening their grip on Jin's body. He knows that the path they have chosen is treacherous and that they will face obstacles unlike any they have encountered before.

Celestial Fear

Dawn creeps through the cityscape, painting the courtyard in a blush of pink. Jimin stirs, his eyelids fluttering open to the sight of Jin’s sleeping face, the warmth of his breath tickling Jimin’s cheek. The forbidden intimacy of their entwined bodies sends a shiver through him, a delicious echo of their celestial rebellion.

But as Jimin traces the line of Jin’s jaw with his fingers, a shadow flickers across Jin’s eyes, a darkness deeper than the city’s nocturnal embrace. It was fleeting, gone as soon as it appeared, yet it left a tremor in Jimin’s heart.

“Jin,” he whispers, his voice hesitant, “what was that?”

Jin’s eyes flutter open, the celestial depths replaced by a flicker of embers, a glimpse of something wild and untamed. He sits up, pulling away from Jimin, and for a moment, Jimin feels a chill crawl down his spine.

“Nothing,” Jin says, his voice strained, “just a memory, a whisper from before.”

But Jimin isn’t convinced. The darkness that tinges Jin’s eyes, it isn’t mere nostalgia, it is something colder, something sharper. A doubt, a seed of suspicion, begins to sprout in Jimin’s mind.

“Before?” he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. “Before…what?”

Jin hesitates, his gaze flickering away. Then, with a sigh that seems to carry the weight of centuries, he turns back to Jimin, his eyes lock on his his with an intensity that makes Jimin’s heart pound.

“Angel,” he says, his voice husky, “before I met you, before all this… I was… different.”

A cold dread washes over Jimin. He knows, instinctively, that the answer he is about to hear will shatter the fragile world they have built in these stolen moments.

“Different how?” Jimin whispers, his voice trembling.

Jin reaches out, his fingers brushing against Jimin’s cheek, a fleeting touch that sends shivers down his spine. “I’m not an angel, Jimin,” he says, his voice barely audible. “I am…” he pauses, his eyes searching Jimin’s face for any sign of rejection, “I am fallen.”

The words hang heavy in the air, the revealed truth shattering the foundation of their forbidden love. Jimin stares at Jin, his mind a whirlwind of confusion and fear. Fallen. The word conjures images of rebellion, of darkness, of everything his angelic existence is supposed to reject.

But then, another truth dawns on him. The way Jin’s eyes had softened when he spoke of forbidden knowledge, the way his lips had burned against Jimin’s, the way he had whispered promises of defiant symphonies… could it be…?

“Jin,” Jimin breathes, his voice thick with emotion, “does that mean… you…”

Jin cuts him off, his lips crashing against Jimin’s in a kiss that is both desperate and tender. “You became the sun I couldn’t turn away from.”

The world spins around them. The city lights blur into a smear of monochrome. In that kiss, Jimin tastes not defiance but vulnerability, a demon confessing his love for an angel of light. And in that moment, Jimin knows, with a terrifying, exhilarating certainty, that he is falling too.

The consequences of their love looms larger than ever, a storm brewing on the horizon. But for now, under the fading blush of dawn, two souls, one fallen, one faltering, hold each other close, their defiance a whispered promise in the face of the impossible.

As the days pass, they steal fleeting moments together, each touch and stolen glance an act of rebellion against the heavens. In these stolen moments, they discover truths about themselves and each other that make their love burn even brighter. They learn that love can be both soft and fierce, a gentle caress one moment, an inferno of passion the next. And as their love grows deeper, so does the danger that lurks around them.

Whispers begin to spread through the divine airways like a dark fog descending upon their fragile haven. News of their trysts reaches the ears of the celestial council, a gathering of angelic beings who uphold the laws of the heavens. Their verdict is swift and unforgiving: Jimin and Jin's love is an abomination, a stain on the purity of their existence.

Perched on the brink of rebellion, the city quakes beneath a moonlit sky. Whispers of divine punishment swirl in the air, a constant reminder of the consequences for defying heaven's orders. Jimin feels his heart tremble as he gazes at his celestial flames, their once radiant white glow now tinged red with fear and doubts. He wants to retreat to the safe, sterile world of angels but cannot suppress the fiery longing that burns within him.

"Turn back, angel," booms a thunderous voice, sending a chill down Jimin's spine. "This path leads only to darkness."

At his side stands Jin, the fallen star, his obsidian eyes ablaze with defiance. His words are a whispered song of chaos tempting Jimin towards rebellion. "Choose, angel," he purrs, his seductive tone pulling him closer to danger. "Embrace the fire within or extinguish it under the rain of heaven."

Caught between duty and desire, Jimin stands at a crossroads with a heavy heart. Will he continue to follow his angelic purpose or surrender to the all-consuming love that threatens to devour him, wings and all? It feels like the city is holding its breath, an audience for the final act of this unlikely love story. Jimin must choose: remain shackled to heaven or fly free in Jin's embrace.

As the weight of his decision hangs in the air, Jimin feels the world around him blur into a hazy backdrop. His thoughts swirl in a tempest of conflicting desires, tearing his celestial essence apart. To choose Jin is to abandon everything he has ever known, forsaking his place among the heavens and casting aside his angelic duties. But to deny himself this love would be to wither away, a flame extinguished before it had a chance to dance and illuminate the darkness.

Jimin turns and gazes into Jin's eyes, and he sees a different kind of light - untamed and exhilarating. It beckons to him, calling him away from the predictable world of angels and towards a life filled with passion and uncertainty.

At that moment, Jimin knows what he must do. With trembling hands, he reaches out to Jin, feeling the electric current that courses between them. The celestial flames flicker their once vibrant glow, reigniting with newfound determination.

"I choose love," Jimin whispers with conviction, his voice carrying through the night sky. The heavens quake in response, thunder rolling across the city as if signifying a shifting balance of power.

As Jimin’s words echo, the air crackles with anticipation. The celestial council, shrouded in a halo of divine light, seems to hesitate, their judgment hanging heavy in the air. Jin, his face alight with a mixture of relief and defiance, grasps Jimin’s hand. Their fingers intertwine, a testament to the love that challenges the very fabric of the heavens.

The lead celestial, his voice laced with disappointment, speaks, “Your decision defies the sacred laws, angel. Are you truly prepared to face the consequences?”

Jimin, his voice unwavering, meets the celestial’s gaze. “I am,” he declares, his stance resolute. “For love, I am willing to forsake the heavens, to dance with the shadows, to face whatever judgment may come.”

A wave of murmurs sweeps through the council, some laced with disapproval, others with a glimmer of understanding. The lead celestial, his expression unreadable, ponders their response.

Suddenly, a blinding light erupts from the heavens, engulfing Jimin and Jin. It is a baptism of sorts, a celestial test of their resolve. As the light subsides, they stand there, transformed. Jimin’s angelic wings, once pristine white, now bear streaks of obsidian black.

“You have chosen,” the lead celestial booms, his voice echoing. “You have defied the heavens, and now, you shall bear the mark of your rebellion.”

Despite the mark, Jimin doesn’t feel shame but a surge of empowerment. They have chosen each other, defying the celestial order and embracing the unknown. Their path won’t be easy as the council’s judgment isn’t the end. They are now outcasts and will be hunted by celestial forces who see their love as a threat to the established order.

While their journey will be fraught with danger, heartbreak, and moments of doubt, their love will be their anchor.

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