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#even just one of these tags would brighten my day
munson-blurbs · 2 days
Note
Hehe for since you asked for fluffy smut, what if reader has had a long day at work and Eddie maybe fixes a bubble bath and they take one together, but then it gets a lil frisky
Is this more smut than fluff? Yes. Am I apologizing for it? Nope.
Collab with @corroded-hellfire who is once again the only reason there's any fluff at all.
CW: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), roommate!Eddie, accidental boners, grinding, lots and lots of touching, mention of oral (f) WC: 1.9k
Home might have been a tiny, two-bedroom apartment that perched above the heart of Hawkins, but at the end of a long shift, it’s Heaven. 
You kick off your shoes; apparently they’re one of the most supportive brands, according to the other waitresses, but your feet still ache. 
The throbbing in your feet is nothing compared to the roaring pain that inflames your lower back. Just pressing the heel of your palms into it makes you wince and groan. 
“You okay?” Eddie calls from his room. You hear him fumbling to put away his guitar before you can even reply. 
The door swings open and he stands there, posture sagging when he sees how beaten down you look. Whatever makeup you had applied that afternoon had long faded, and the stains on your apron certainly added the finishing touch. 
Eddie, meanwhile, is refreshed—infuriatingly so. Today was his day off, and though he put in a lot of work the other six days of the week, you still yearned for the well-restedness that had him bounding over to you. 
“Bubble bath?” When you two had first moved in together, he used to try and talk to you about your day. He took it personally when you retreated to your room without glancing in his direction. But now he knew that you talk when you regain your energy. And there’s no shortage of gossip after eight hours at Benny’s. 
You nod, offering him as much of a grateful smile as you can muster. “That would be great.” You weren’t sure how you managed to find a great friend like Eddie, but you weren’t about to question it, either. 
None of the guys you’d actually dated had ever been so understanding. But Eddie…he managed to always know what you needed. 
He offers you one of his signature grins that always brighten your day and heads down the hall to the bathroom. You take off your name tag when the loud gush of the tub faucet reaches your ears and you barely have time to yank your socks off before Eddie’s back in your doorway. 
“Your spa awaits,” he says. “I would’ve prepared you some music but I don’t think any of my metal cassettes have the ambiance you’re looking for right now.”
You shake your head as you pass by him and step towards the bathroom door. 
“Not really,”  you agree. “I’ll let you know if I need it for some inspiration working out or welding or something.”
Eddie huffs a laugh and slips his hands into the back pockets of his black jeans.
“Wasn’t that Flashdance?”
“Yeah, but that music wasn’t my thing,” you admit with a shrug before you step into the bathroom. The door clicks behind you as it closes and you’re immediately shedding the stained, greasy uniform you’ve been dying to ditch all day. 
A trail of clothing is left in your wake as you step up to the tub, the bubbles fizzing and giving off a calming jasmine scent. Not wanting to scald your skin as the cherry on top of this already grueling day, you slip your hand into the water to test the temperature. It’s perfect. You don’t know how Eddie does it; he must have the magic touch. 
The water, the bubbles, the scent, it’s all too inviting. You lift one leg over the side of the tub and climb in, quickly bringing the other in as well. In your haste to start your relaxation, you slip a bit as you begin to sit down. Instinct has you catching yourself on the sides of the tub almost instantly, but it causes the collection of soap, shampoo, and conditioner bottles to tumble onto the floor in a large heap. You stare at the pile for a moment.
“Ah, I’ll deal with you later,” you decide under your breath and sink further down into the warmth waiting to heal you from your long day. 
The bubbles tickle your skin as they gradually make their way higher. They stop around your breasts and the warm water wraps itself around every achy muscle in your body. 
Suddenly, the bathroom door busts open, a frazzled Eddie charging in with wide, concerned eyes. He’s only in a Corroded Coffin t-shirt and boxers now, so maybe the loud bang woke him from a nap. 
“I-Is everything okay?” he asks as he eyes the pile of bottles on the floor.
“Oh yeah, I just knocked those over when I got in,” you explain. 
Eddie breathes a sigh of relief but the moment his eyes land on you, his body tenses up even worse than before. He’s clearly trying not to stare at you—especially your chest—but he’s failing miserably. You look down to find that your roommate has a pretty good view of the tops of your boobs. 
When you look back to Eddie, you get a pretty nice view yourself. Since he’s only wearing boxers on his lower half, his boner is quite evident. 
A smug sense of satisfaction settles over you, even seeing how uncomfortable Eddie seems to be at getting caught. But you’re not going to tease him or make him feel bad about anything. On the contrary, you’ve thought of yet another way he can help you relax. 
“Do you wanna join?” you purr. 
When Eddie looks your way you give him the most innocent, wide eyed look you can manage and flutter your lashes a few times. 
Worry blooms within you when he doesn’t immediately respond. 
Did I overstep? Is he completely freaked out? Oh my god, what if his boner was completely unrelated to me and I just assumed—
His voice, smaller than you’ve ever heard it, interrupts your thoughts. “Mhm, yeah. I mean, if that’s cool with you.”
You nod, watching as he peels off his shirt and tosses it aside, exposing the soft tendrils of hair across his chest. There’s a tattoo on one pec; you want him, need him closer so you can run your tongue over it. 
He sheds his boxers next. Though you knew he was big just from seeing the bulge behind the fabric, nothing prepared you to see him fully on display. The reddish-pink tip leaks pre-cum as the shaft bobs in desperate search for the warmth of a body. 
“Where should I…” He’s gained a bit of confidence from the way you stare unabashedly at his naked body, but he’s still hesitant to push his luck too far. 
Scooting forward, you gesture to the now empty space behind you. Nerves buzz throughout your naked body —now wet in more ways than one. 
Eddie swings a leg over the edge of the tub, getting his balance before bringing the other to join. The way he places his hands on your shoulders results in an electricity that you can only hope he feels as well. 
His lower body disappears beneath the bubbles and he lets out a relaxed groan. You lean back until your head rests on his chest, his considerable length pressing against your lower back. 
“Sweetheart,” he whispers. Whether he means to speak that softly or he can’t manage anything louder, you can’t be sure. “Be careful.”
“Careful?”
He nods, lips grazing the shell of your ear. He’s so close to you, and yet he’s still too far away. “You’re so fucking tempting like this.”
You shift slightly, enough to see the blush in his cheeks that you know isn’t from the steamy bath. “Maybe I want you to be tempted.”
One tattooed arm snakes around your waist, fingers trailing upwards and stopped just shy of your breasts. 
“Don’t tease me,” he begs. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.”
“I mean it.”
You take his hand and place it on your left breast. He whimpers, and you swear you could climax from the sound alone. 
Water sloshes around the tub as he hooks his legs around yours, gathering the stability he needs. 
“Fuck…” His hips move as he ruts up against you, desperate for relief. The way he pinches your nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, starkly contrasts the gentle kisses he leaves on your shoulder blades. 
You want him. You need him. 
His other hand lays in the water and you guide it between your legs, now spread in anticipation of his touch. 
“There?” He asks as he finds your clit, rubbing it when you nod in the affirmative. 
Eddie increases his pace, fingers working in tandem to bring you pleasure. You arch your back, exposing your neck for him to bite and suck. 
“When we’re done,” he murmurs, “I want you splayed out on the bed for me. I need to see if your pussy is as pretty as I’ve imagined.”
His words awaken something within you. “Y-You imagine me…?” You start, unable to finish your sentence. 
Eddie nods. “Every time I jerk off, Sweetheart, I imagine being inside you. How you’d feel around my cock—mmph, fuck.”
“I picture you, too,” you confess. “Your fingers, or your cock, or—”
He raises a brow. “Or?”
“Or your mouth.” The admission spills from your lips. 
“Yeah? You want me to eat that pretty little pussy of yours?” Your own desire for him amps up his confidence. He’s impossibly and impressively hard, and you would do anything for him to stretch you out. 
You nod. “Please.”
“Okay, Sweetheart. Soon as we’re done here, yeah?” His breath hitches, his rutting becoming sloppier and needier as he nears orgasm. 
Bubbly waves crest over the side of the tub, drenching the bathmat and flooding the tile floor, but neither of you care. 
“Eds, little more, I’m gonna…” 
He follows your every order, your pussy clenching around nothing as he takes care of your clit. 
“Wanna make you feel good.” Eddie kisses your shoulder again. “Please let me make you feel good.”
You can only offer a moan as you come, chanting his name over and over. It’s a name you only ever dreamed about chanting so loudly; it was usually relegated to quiet whispers alone in your room. 
A new warmth, different from the bathwater, coats your lower back and drips down to your ass when Eddie finishes, the hand on your breast squeezing tight, pain and pleasure intermingling harmoniously. 
“Oh my god,” he pants. “That was…”
“Amazing.”
Eddie nods. “So fuckin’ amazing.” 
He lifts a bubble-covered hand to your chin, tilting it slightly so he can kiss you. His lips are soft but move with determination, his tongue sliding between yours. You let him in, your fingers playing with the wet tips of his hair. 
“Meant what I said about eating you out,” he mumbles into your mouth before stealing another kiss. 
Splayed out on the bed. His to ravish. The thought has you lunging for the towel hanging behind the door in an attempt to dry off. 
But when you stand, Eddie reaches out his hand and pulls you towards him, now eye-level with your pussy. “Knew she was perfect,” he says with a smirk. “Bet she tastes even better.”
The kiss he presses to your folds nearly buckled your knees. 
“You wanna find out?” He nods eagerly, and you giggle. “It might be a little lavender-y from the bath soap, though.”
Eddie shrugs. “Don’t care. Need you.”
And who are you to deny a man his needs?
--
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sttoru · 4 months
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your lover would do anything to have your attention on him and nothing or no one else. even if that meant competing with a stuffed toy.
☀︎|tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff, teeny tiny bit suggestive. implied age gap (reader early 20’s, satoru early 30’s). just satoru being a manchild honestly. reader gets called ‘pretty, princess, baby.’ little dumb drabble that is not beta read.
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you were cuddling up to your plushie under a pile of blankets, protecting yourself from the almost freezing temperatures outside of your apartment. the television is playing your favorite show, your food is set on the coffee table and your lovely boyfriend is. . . taking pictures of you.
“come on — look at the camera, pretty girl!” satoru coos. he was blocking your view of the screen, indirectly forcing you to follow his instructions. the older man visibly melts the moment you actually do gaze up at him; his eyes soften and his smile brightens, “there y’go. so adorable.”
he snaps a couple pictures from different angles and even one from up close. his big hand cups both of your cheeks, squeezing them together and forcing your mouth into a deformed ‘o’ shape. the way you look up at him through your eyelashes was the cherry on top.
“have i ever told you how beautiful you are, princess?” satoru sighs as he takes one last picture. he puts his phone down and settles next to you on the couch.
you chuckle and instantly rest your head on his shoulder. he sneaks a hand under the blankets and rests it on the exposed skin of your hip, causing you to shiver from the contrast between your body temperatures, “you remind me of it every day.”
satoru huffs—a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. he’s holding back the urges to nibble on your cheek. you’re just so adorable to him; it’s hard to control the cute aggression he experiences whenever you’re around him.
“yeah, well, as i should.” your clingy boyfriend says matter-of-factly. you roll your eyes and scoot over to the other side of the couch, moving away from satoru in fear of him possibly stealing your blankets. he was known as the ‘blanket hogger’ in your relationship after all.
satoru frowns in response and childishly puts his hands on his hips, looking at you like you had just betrayed his trust. you stick your tongue out and continue watching your favorite show—snuggled up to the fluffy blankets and stuffed toy instead of your man.
“can’t believe i got replaced by some blankets and a dumb plushie.” satoru whines. he sighs dramatically and slumps back against the couch, crossing his arms. a pillow flies over to his side and hits him right on the head.
“it’s not dumb. that’s mean.” you glare at him with an offended expression, though were also proud of your excellent aim. you hug your hello kitty plushie to your chest and turn your body the other way. now it was your time to sulk.
little did you know that you’d still be no match to your sassy lover.
the older man falls to the side, continuing his theatrics and clutching his head, “and on top of all that, i’m portrayed as the bad guy. . . haaaah, all i wanted was to be close to my pretty girlfriend.”
that gains him another cushion to the head. satoru grunts and huffs before planning a counterattack. one that was much more direct, yet softer than your pillow attacks.
not a second passes by and your body is already getting robbed from the blankets. “hey, wait,” you click your tongue, though were physically too weak to do anything about satoru’s actions. his body crushes yours underneath him — your poor plushie squeezed between you and your lover.
his hands move quickly to wrap the covers around the both of you. satoru grins to himself as he snuggles up to you, making himself comfortable in your embrace. his face is buried against your chest and his voice is muffled as he speaks up, “oh, c’mooon. can ya blame a man for wanting to cuddle with his girl? exactly - no.”
. . . he didn’t even give you the chance to answer his question. you playfully smack the back of his head and satoru giggles. sometimes it really feels like you’re the older one in the relationship.
“fine, but she’s staying.” you give in eventually, though were demanding for your plushie to stay with you. not that satoru cared about that thing any longer: as long as he has you in his arms, he doesn’t give a damn about anything else.
the white-haired man answers with a simple hum. he even adjusts the stuffed toy so it could rest between both your bodies, patting its head with care before doing the same to you. his large hand settles on top of your head and he moves it back and forth—a gesture of affection he likes to do often.
“mm — say, baby. .” satoru yawns and rests his head back on your chest afterwards. he closes his eyes while he presses soft kisses to the swell of your breasts, “cuddling with me is way better than cuddling with your plushies, right? riiiight?”
there he goes again. you can’t help but snicker however. you grin devilishly and take time to think of a way to tease your lover, “hmmm—no, i think i’d much rather cuddle with my plushies.”
you hear that dramatic gasp and mentally prepare yourself to deal with an even whinier and clingier satoru.
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huskersbooze · 2 months
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Who's in Control?
Alastor x Reader
| Part 1(here!) | Part 2 | Part 3 |
Summary : You sold your soul to Alastor and had no idea how big of a deal this was. Until recently, you finally learn what it means, and realize all that Alastor had been doing was just a lie.. or was it?
Pairing : Alastor x F!Reader, Huskerdust? (M!Reader here, Gn!Reader here)
Warnings : swear words
Additional Tags : Angst, miscommunication, misunderstandings, Alastor actually being nice?!, no use of (Y/n)
Ib : Who's in Control By Set It Off
Word count : 1.8k
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"Good morning, dear."
"Morning, Al." You reach the lobby and take a seat on the floor next to Alastor's chair.
"How was your sleep, darling?"
"It was good! And yours?"
"Aha, hilarious, really. You know I don't sleep, my dear." He places a hand on your head and gives your hair a ruffle. "You really do know how to brighten my day."
The rest of the team reaches the lobby, and you all gather around for your daily dose of trust exercises.
-----
You and Alastor had been growing closer and closer ever since your arrival at the hotel. There was no doubt that he was your favourite person there.
And, well, for Alastor, he never wanted to admit it, but everyone in the hotel could tell, and even he was aware.
He was growing a soft-spot for you.
It was never supposed to be this way. He was never meant to grow attached. It just somehow happened, and that was that.
Everything between you two was going great. Except for that one little issue that bothered Alastor.. but you didn’t have to know. He never tried to abuse any of that power when he asked for your soul. He never thought of doing anything to you.
But there comes a time in every relationship where a lie can ruin it all.
“Hey, sugar. How ya’ doin’?” Angel Dust leans by the bar counter, greeting you as usual.
“I'm doing decent. Husk and I were just talking about you.”
“We were fuckin’ not!” You watch as the cat's ears twitch, the drink he was originally pouring tipping over.
“Oh, really? No need ta’ lie Husky~” You laugh at Angel's teasing, which makes Husk let out a low growl. “At least I don't gawk over a certain demon so obviously.”
“Hey! Are you talking about me and Al?”
“Who else would he be talkin’ about?” Angel tilts his head to the side, giving you a knowing glare. “Ya’ can't even deny it.”
“Al and I are just friends.”
“Kid, Angel's right.” The cat can only do so much but sigh. “You don't know him as well as I do. He treats you differently.”
“Still, we're just friends-”
“The Radio Demon doesn't do ‘friends’, kid.”
“Yeah, well, he owns my soul. Of course he'd treat me differently.”
The way it so simply came out of your mouth like it wasn't some big deal. Both Husker and Angel Dust froze in place, staring at you wide-eyed.
“What? Did I say something wrong?”
“What.. what did you just say?” The spider can hardly comprehend the news you'd just dropped.
“He owns my soul..?”
“Kid. What the actual fuck?!”
“What the fuck did he do to you?! Ya’ alright?! Are you hurt?”
You watch as the two demons skim your body up and down, firing questions at you, checking up to make sure you weren't hurt.
But you were confused.
“What's going on? Why are you guys suddenly acting so strange?”
“Wh- Why did you sell ya’ soul to him?!”
“Fuck I knew he was up to no good!”
“He told me by selling my soul to him he'd protect me from everything and anything at all cost. I didn't see a reason to decline?” You reply to Angel's question, ignoring Husk as he mutters about himself being correct. “I got nothing to lose.”
“Ya’ got everything to lose, shitass.” You hear his voice start to crack slightly as you realise tears welling up in his eyes.
“Angel?! Hey, what's wrong?”
“Damn, kid. You really don't know shit, huh?”
“About..?”
“What it means to sell your soul.”
“I know what it means, Al said-”
“Forget that fucker.” Husk practically spits out his name. “D'you know why I work here at the bar?”
“Because you like your job..?”
“No. It’s because I was forced by the person I sold my soul to.”
“Who..?”
“Hell, kid.. you really can't take a hint?”
And just like that, he says one more name, and your whole world comes tumbling down on you.
He didn't actually care for you, he was just shaping you in case you came to use.
He didn't actually enjoy your company, he was just watching you to make sure you were obedient.
He didn't actually mean any of the things he said. He was just trying to manipulate you.
And you were so damn lost. So damn lost as to whether the control and power you thought you had, really belonged to you.
“Valentino is an overlord.. and he's your boss?”
“Yup.” Angel nods.
“And he owns your soul like Al owns Husk’s?”
“Exactly.” Husk replies.
“And there's no escaping this contract..?”
“No.” The two reply together.
“Fuck.”
-----
“Greetings, my dear! How are you on this fine morning?” The static sounds from Alastor's usual seat at the lobby where you all gather every morning.
There's that usual smile etched on his face, which, you used to believe looked genuine when he was talking to you, but it seemed that wasn't the case.
“Hey, Husk. Hey, Angel.” You greet the two on the couch, completely passing by Alastor and ignoring his whole existence. “Mind if I sit?”
“Yeah, go ahead.” Angel scoots over and makes space for you to squeeze between Husk and himself. “Ya’ look like hell.”
“You alright, kid?”
“Couldn't sleep much last night, but I'm fine.” You reassure them.
The rest of the crew were a bit startled at your display, knowing well that you refused to not sit by Alastor's chair, normally.
And here you were, ignoring him completely like he was no longer relevant, and hanging with the other two demons.
“Okay.. what an interesting way to start the morning!” Charlie tries to break the ice.
Everyone turns their attention towards her.
Everyone but Alastor.
He was practically fuming with rage, anger, irritation, but yet, a tiny bit of worry.
How dare you ignore the Radio Demon like he was some piece of useless trash?
But then again.. why were you suddenly acting so cold and distant? What did he do wrong?
He couldn't help but focus his attention on you throughout the entire day, but you didn't even spare him a single glance.
Needless to say, you felt a knock on your door that night.
“Darling, how wonderful to see you! Wonderful, really. Mind if I come in?”
“A little. What do you need, Alastor?” You stand at the door frame, hand still on the door handle, prepared to slam the door in case anything happens.
Meanwhile, Alastor was pissed. You had never rejected inviting him in for late night chatting, in fact, you never rejected anything from him.
“It's nothing, really. I just hoped to have a friendly little chat with you, if that's alright?” Alastor leans down to your level, tilting his head and giving you his usual smile he reserved for you, and you only.
“A bit busy. Maybe next time.” You attempt to close the door, but a hand swoops in and, damn, was he strong.
“Dear, what seems to be the issue?”
“I’m really busy, Alastor.” You sigh. His ears twitch at the name. Where were all his sweet little nicknames? Why were you only referring to him by his full name?
“Clearly, something is wrong, and I ought to find out what I had done to deserve such treatment.” He states, making himself welcome in your room. “Talk to me, darling.”
“Oh enough with the pet names, I’m not your fucking pet.” You roll your eyes, closing the door behind you to make sure no one stumbles upon your little predicament.
Alastor stiffens, then laughs.
“Whatever are you talking about, dear? Of course you’re not my pet.”
“The damn contract says otherwise..” You watch as Alastor shifts uncomfortably, his back still facing you. “I should’ve known you just wanted another soul. Fuck you, Alastor.”
You continue on about how you never should’ve trusted him, and how you finally knew about everything so there was no point in him pretending to tolerate you.
Alastor, however, could barely process anything you were saying. He could hear his own static in his own head, and it was growing louder and louder.
What the fuck was happening? How did you know? What did he ever do? Where did he go wrong..?
“Darling, please.. You don’t understand-” The radio filter in his voice was off, his actual voice coming out as a soft plea.
Taken aback, you stopped talking. Alastor turned to face you, smile still etched high and proud, but his eyes looked like he was about to break.
“Alastor..” You murmur. “I just don’t think I can trust you anymore. I’m sorry.”
“When have I ever used any of that power on you?!” Alastor snaps, eyes darting all over the place, trying to find out what to do to fix all this. “I’ve been nothing but nice! I.. I helped you when you were in trouble! I did nothing to hurt you..”
You watch as Alastor starts losing his usual composure, having it slowly drifting away.. It was heartbreaking seeing him like this, but you couldn’t bring yourself to forgive him and pretend nothing happened.
“It doesn’t matter when you’re in control..”
“No.. darling, no! You’re in control!” He scrambles, grabbing you by the shoulders.
“Really? I’m not sure I trust any of that bullshit anymore.”
“Dear, please, listen to me..!”
“I'm sorry, Al.. I think it's best if you leave.”
He pauses.
“Have a good sleep, dear.” He says, voice filter completely off. It was a rare occasion getting to hear his sweet voice. Too bad it had to be under such circumstances.
-----
“Oh my, Alastor, what's got your ears pinned back?” Rosie leads her friend through the halls and has him take a seat opposite of her. “Is everything alright?”
“No.. no it's not.” He replies. “She found out.”
“About the deal?”
“No, Rosie. No.” He sighs. “She found out what selling her soul to me actually permits me.”
“But you never wanted to abuse that power, did you?”
“Of course not.”
“Then, I'm assuming you didn't tell her?”
“No.”
“Well, why not?”
“Would it make a difference?" She could practically hear him scoff. "She's irritated at me as is. It's not like she'd even heed my words."
“Come, now, Alastor. You know as well as I that the sweetheart would listen.” Rosie tuts, waving a hand at him.
“She doesn't need to know how powerful she actually is.. she doesn't need to know her soul is being gambled this very second.”
Alastor sighs, getting up from his chair.
“Thank you for your kind words, Rosie. I shall take my leave now.”
“Take care, Alastor.” She smiles. “I'm sure she'll understand.”
“I surely hope you're correct."
———/ TBC. /———
READ PART 2 HERE
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smutoperator · 2 months
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Luck Inside Her Backdoor
Kim Yoohyeon x Male Reader
Tags: 100% anal, big ass, butt plug, casting couch, facial, gape, glasses, (a lot of) lube, sloppy blowjobs, sugar daddy
Word count: 4223.
Your daughter came with an unusual request. She wanted to attend the concert of a K-pop group. You had never heard of them. Dreamcatcher, apparently. But you decided to be a good father and give her the tickets to the concert. You knew nothing about them but wanted to make your daughter happy, especially following the recent divorce you had with her mother.
At the concert, one of the girls caught your attention. She was quite tall and moved her body perfectly while also performing great interactions with the crowd. "What's her name?" you asked your daughter. "Yoohyeon," she replied.
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Indeed, Yoohyeon had hypnotized you, especially her ass. You kinda wanted to impress your daughter and see if you could find a way to meet Dreamcatcher after the concert, but more than this, you wanted to take a closer look at her.
You contacted the managers, who said it wasn't possible; they just weren't going to give you access. But you insisted, using your money and influence to bribe them and get your daughter to have an improvised fan meet with them.
Your daughter was quite happy, taking as many pictures with their idols as she could. But you were even more delighted as you managed to sneak in a message to Yoohyeon. "If you're still in town tomorrow, meet me at this place. Here's my phone number." Yoohyeon was about to throw it out, but she texted you out of curiosity, asking why you would want to meet her in private. "For sex, tell me where your place is, and I'll pick you up," you replied in the next message. "Sure," she agreed.
You left your daughter at school and guided Yoohyeon to your place. It was a cold day, meaning she was wearing a quite long jacket, but her long-sleeved top had all the buttons in place but still showed off her beautiful midriff and elongated navel, while her jeans showcased the great figure of her bottom. She also looked extremely cute with the glasses she had on. Yoohyeon sat on your couch as you approached her, asking her a question. "Are you ready for your audition?"
As soon as Yoohyeon heard those words, she already knew what to do, getting on her knees. She slowly took off her jeans and panties, showcasing her meaty pussy and the butt plug covering her asshole. You already knew her ass was amazing, but it looked even better in full display—truly a packed and stacked bubble butt.
Yoohyeon gave you a little smirk as you started playing with her anal plug using your left hand, removing it, then putting it back in a couple times. Every time her butthole got exposed, you used your tongue to lick it fully. Yoohyeon enjoyed the attention as you focused on her ass before sliding your right hand under her to massage her pussy. "Ah yes," she said in approval.
Having someone willing to be her sugar daddy was something she wasn't expecting. Things looked pretty safe for Yoohyeon as of lately. Her group avoided the seven-year curse, and she had a steady income from sales and touring, but she knew she had to ace today's performance more than any concert to be set for life. She got herself barefoot as you kept playing with the plug in her ass and making her let out some very sexy moans. 
You picked up the pace and fucked her a little faster using the plug while placing your free hand at her massive cheeks. You started giving Yoojyeon some hot kisses without looking at her cute face as both of you closed your eyes to enjoy the touching of both your lips better. Between the kisses, you continued to warm up her asshole, pushing the plug in and out of it.
"Let me see that dick," Yoohyeon interrupted you with a naughty request as her eyes brightened under the glass. "You want it now?" you asked. "Yes," she said with a big smile, truly ready to impress her sugar daddy. But you decided to tease her a little, fingering her pussy while still manuvering the plug in her asshole. "Take it yourself," you told her.
Yoohyeon turned around and placed her hands in your belt, taking it off and then unzipping you as she unveiled your cock. It was still flaccid due to the weather, but it definitely had the size. Nothing like some little work couldn't fix it, as Yoohyeon grabbed it hard and inserted it in her warm mouth, prompting a rush of blood from the rest of your body towards your pole.
You started taking your shirt off as Yoohyeon coughed on your dick while taking it deep in her throat for the first time. She managed to warm your cock up so quickly that it wasn't long before your tip was springing out of the foreskin. "Oh fuck, oh shit, god damn it," you murmured as Yoohyeon started her no-hands blowjob that made her gag on it.
As more spit came out of Yoohyeon's mouth, she started to unbutton her jacket and take it off without ever leaving your cock out of her mouth, even with you making it harder on her by pushing her head against your crotch, as she closed her eyes while her forehead landed on your belly. That only made Yoohyeon try harder, as she had now taken her jacket off to the fullest and started loosening up her top's buttons one by one as soon as she gagged on your prick once again, rolling her eyes as her glasses touched the base of your cock.
Yoohyeon pulled out of your cock as soon as she managed to take her top off, with you moving her face close to yours to kiss her sloppy mouth while caressing her beautiful round boobs. You took Yoohyeon's pantyhose off, the last piece of clothing she was wearing, staring at her now fully naked body from top to bottom. It was freezing cold outside, but her body was so hot that you weren't feeling anything. Quite the contrary, as your cock was now fully erected and throbbing for more heat from Yoohyeon's filthy mouth.
As Yoohyeon dove under your cock to suck you off a little more, you placed your right hand right on top of her big ass, closing your eyes as her mouth sucked the shit out of your dick. You fucked her ass with the plug, dreaming of replacing it with your cock the more she gagged on it. You pushed your shaft a little up, reaching all the way down her throat, to make it harder for her, leading Yoohyeon to gulp and almost throw up as you hit her gag reflexes. You two started it all over again, this time with her lasting much longer with it bulging under her throat as she quickly adjusted to your length while also adding some hot massage to your ballsack. 
She really knew where to hit the right spots, as Yoohyeon's massage ended up being a massive turn-on to you. And she sensed the same, increasing the speed at which her hands moved around your big balls. "Oh my God," it was all you could say once she finally finished it, moving towards fast dives into your cock and a high-paced blowjob that slowly turned her on as well, making her nipples quite hard in the process.
You pushed Yoohyeon's hair a little to the side to have a better view of her pretty face gagging all over your meat. But it didn't take long until you received a request from her. "I want you to shove this dick deep in my ass," she said. You loved hearing those words. Yoohyeon was ready to take it straight up her butthole and not waste any time in her pussy. She knew she had to go big or go home, and her begging voice clearly indicated it. Today, it was anal or bust.
"You do? Then beg me," you tease her. "Please, daddy, shove it up in my big fat ass; I want you to stretch my asshole out and gape it to the size of the moon." Yoohyeon meant business as she turned around and got on her knees on the couch, her butt now facing you as she licked her tongue. You removed the plug off her anus in one go as Yoohyeon held her left hand into the couch's arm, bracing herself for your big cock fully inside her. You added some lube as her butthole quickly started to clench shortly after the plug's removal.
You shoved your tip on Yoohyeon's backdoor, taking advantage of the lube you placed at her anal entrance, leading her to elicit a few moans. "Oh my God, yes," she approved as your shaft slowly disappeared inside her bunghole. You penetrated it slowly, making sure to take your cock deep inside her cavity from the start. Yoohyeon then starts fingering her pussy to increase the stimulation as you grab her slippery tush with just your right hand.
You give Yoohyeon very deep pumps, with the lube helping you slide all the way in with ease. Running your hands on top of her ass, you keep impaling her with your full length for a decent amount, leading her to scream. "FUCK!" she yells as every inch of your cock is already buried inside her butthole. "Want to take it deep again?" you ask. "AHHHHH YESSSS," she says in sync with your cock ripping her hole apart as you pull out of her.
Yoohyeon closes her eyes as you get ready for yet another deep anal insertion. This time, you go a little faster, making her feel much more of the heat. "Ugh, fuck, give me, give me, give me that cock," she says, her body bouncing at each thurst you give her. You pull out to check her already large gape, spitting straight inside her asshole and pounding her big ass with more speed as soon as you go back inside. "Ohhhh, so fucking deep," she says as her voice starts to crack, squealing as your balls start clapping her round cheeks, rolling her eyes at each pump you give her.
You pour some extra lube on her cheeks and your cock. Yoohyeon's ass jiggled as she felt your meat stretching her cornhole out. You kept putting more lube in her ass and using your hand to spread it out as she panted and moaned with your cock deep inside her butthole, enjoying the massage you were giving her butt. "Put it deep in my asshole; oh fuck, make me cum so much," she said as you started pounding her harder with the lube fully settled in and making her ass shine.
Yoohyeon held her hands against the couch's arm as you railed her, groaning and getting out of breath. "YEAH! YEAH!" she screamed at each pump. She put her ass up and enjoyed your balls smashing her cunt, rolling her eyes while doing so. You started spanking her fat cheeks, showing off who her owner truly was, and printing your hands all over her ass before switching to slower thursts to enjoy your shaft disappearing inside her ass to the fullest while she screamed in submission to your cock and groaned more and more.
"Let me taste that dick," Yoohyeon said as she pulled out. That imposing girl you saw the day before had turned into a submissive whore who would do everything to please her sugar daddy's huge cock. As she dove back into your shaft, you surprised her with some thrusts into her mouth. You weren't even going fast, but she was already spitting all over that dick. You grabbed her by the hair, shoving your cock harder in her mouth as you increased the pace. Yoohyeon was gagging and spitting so hard that your cock had turned into a pudding mess of saliva.
Still catching her breath, Yoohyeon sits on your massive meat and starts riding it, giving you a perfect view of her ass bouncing up and down your cock as she gets impaled. Her spit is more effective than any lube, it turns out. She goes slow, trying to adjust to your length as she puts her feet on your thighs while riding. But as soon as she does that, you pump your cock up Yoohyeon's shithole, challenging her to keep her balance as you mercilessly pound her ass.
"FUCK, IT'S SO HUGE!" Yoohyeon screams as she closes her eyes and grips her feet as hard as she can against your thighs, managing to regain control of the bounce as she finally takes it full length inside her asshole. Yoohyeon pants a lot but wants more, gyrating her hips as she takes it deeper in her anus.
Your cock hitting the whole length of Yoohyeon's butthole makes her moan much harder. You sense the opportunity and start fingering her cunt while she bounces on your manhood. Yoohyeon now spreads her legs as you massage her clit, getting even more passionate as you draw her body closer to you, kissing her while she moves up and down your cock and running your hands all over her fit belly and sexy tits.
"GOD, YES, YES," Yoohyeon felt overwhelmed: your mouth in her lips, your hands now deep in her meaty pussy, just like your cock balls deep in her ass, it was too much for her to handle as she closed her legs and her thighs started to jiggle involuntairly. You took advantage, and shortly after, you resumed pounding her hard. Yoohyeon couldn't decide between staring at the ceiling and closing her eyes or staring at your big cock manhandling her. Your high-intensity pounding had flipped a switch on her, as she started bouncing hard on your dick as if she had something to prove. Well, she kind of did, but at this pace, she had passed your test with ease; everything else was just a bonus now.
"OHHHHHH. UGGGGHHHHH," Yoohyeon lets out a massive scream as you tilt her body slightly and start hammering her. But her next reaction would be even more priceless. "Oh shit," is all she can say when you lift her legs up and lock them with your arms, placing her under a full Nelson as you hit deep in her shitter. Yoohyeon is completely imobilized and gets the perfect view of your cock working inside her bunghole.
"Ahhh, oh my fucking God," is all Yoohyeon manages to say when you free her and now tilt her entire body sideways, closing her legs as you kiss her passionately and keep stretching her out, her pussy gushing at each pounding you give her asshole. "Holy fuck, you're making me cream so hard," she says as she gets fucked with her legs fully up in the air and the perfect view for you to look at her face screaming and crying. "Ahhhh, so so good," she says in an almost muffled manner as you get close to her face to kiss her, grabbing her thighs as you give her a sort of spooning with her legs lifted.
Yoohyeon moans a lot, prompting you to tell her to hush. You spread her legs a little for deeper penetration as you increase the speed of your poundings in her butthole. Yoohyeon fingers herself as her left leg rests on your couch while her right leg is fully up in the air. You go harder and get her out of breath before slowing down to take a pair of deep pumps in her ass.
"Now taste it," you say as you pull out of Yoohyeon's dirty hole and she gets on her feet for the first time in a long while. But that doesn't even last a couple seconds. Like a puppy, Yoohyeon crawls back to your big rod on all fours to suck it dry and taste her shithole, gagging on it, slurping it, and massaging your balls as you run your hands all over her big ass.
"Ready to go back?" you ask her. Yoohyeon doesn't need any words to answer, just her eagerness to jump on that pole and ride it like a cowgirl as she lines it up against her anal entrace once more as you add more lube to her shiny cheeks. Yoohyeon sits on it as she tilts her body down and lets your cock fill her ass up to the fullest while you massage her huge tush that carries half her weight. She starts very slowly, enjoying every time your tip touches the depths of her bunghole. You spread her ass a little for easier penetration, grabbing it to push it up and get longer bounces from her.
"Shit!" Yoohyeon exclaims as you start clapping against her ass again and giving it some spanking. She rests her head on the couch, bracing herself for another round of rough pounding. You get so overconfident that your cock slips out of her hole, but you quickly make up for it, making her cheeks make a noise akin to someone's while riding a horse, as all the lube accumulated around it makes it splash at each pump. And indeed, Yoohyeon was getting mauled by a horse hung all the way deep in her ass at an increased speed.
Drops of Yoohyeon's saliva were still glued to your cock as they created a little string between your cock and her buttcheeks, resisting your hard thursts as you now spanked both her cheeks. Yoohyeon decided to take a bit of control and ride it herself, much to your approval. "Just like that," you told her as Yoohyeon smashed her fat ass against your hips and made your cock disappear between her enormous cheeks.
You pulled out and gaped Yoohyeon's asshole as some fluid came out of her asshole. It was the lube that accumulated inside her after so much pounding; although it looked so much like cum, it felt like you had creampied her when it landed on your skin. "Want another gape?" you asked. "Yeah," she answered while moaning as you slowly removed your cock and spread her cheeks. Her butthole was fully red and wide after such a long and rough fucking.
Yoohyeon put your cock back in and bounced a bit, but soon it would be stopped as you gaped her again, this time placing your middle finger at the edges of her anus and spreading it out. But Yoohyeon wanted something different. "Stop teasing me and fuck my ass," she says as you insert your cock back in her and give her a hard pounding while beating her buttcheeks like a drum.
Yoohyeon then decided to place her feet on the couch to give your meat another ride, bouncing her fat ass so hard that your impalment eventually hurt her, leading you to lift her ass up in the air and regain control of the pounding, showing no mercy for her now sore asshole. Yoohyeon tries to stay strong as you tear her ass apart, howling and screaming like a puppy. Her cheeks are fully red, she groans and moans like never before, and the couch trembles at each pounding you give her. "AHHHHHHHHHH,"  she screams hard as you continue to impale her nonstop.
"Yes, baby, I love that dick in my ass. I love it," Yoohyeon says. "Then show it," you tell her, pulling out for her to taste it once more as you dunk her head on your cock. "Gag on it, bitch," you demand as she also spits on it, and you impale her mouth like it's her dirty asshole. Yoohyeon can barely breathe, but you don't care and push her to the limit, giving her a congratulatory kiss shortly after.
"Get on all fours like a good puppy," you tell her. An extra lube and your cock slide inside Yoohyeon's gaped butthole with little resistance, going deep inside her in the first thrust. Her wet cunt taints your couch, but you couldn't care less; you just wanted to admire her stretched hole, taking your cock in and out of it to the fullest multiple times. "Ahhhh, stretch my asshole," Yoohyeon begs as you keep playing with it and watch her cunt drip.
In, out, in, out. You keep doing it, now a little faster, until Yoohyeon spreads her cheeks just enough for you to pound her to the fullest. "AHHHHHHH. AHHHHHH," she screams with her eyes closed as you top her and ram her like a dog. She cries a bit as you spank her ass and clap her cheeks hard. "OHHHHH FUCK FUCK," she keeps begging. Your couch now creaks at each pump you give inside Yoohyeon's used-up asshole as you take her balls deep. "Good puppy," you tell her after you slow down. She can only look at you with begging eyes as you dominate her.
"You're gonna make me fucking cum so hard," Yoohyeon says as Squirt keeps gushing out of her vagina. Her impending orgasm leads to pleasurable pain for her as her already sore anal walls get even more sensitive, and she keeps barking and howling. "Then let me see it," you tell her.
You order Yoohyeon to put her back on the couch and face you, giving her a missionary fucking. Her legs tremble as she starts cumming while you fuck her ass, enjoying an amazing orgasm that only gets better after each thrust. Even your cock now is a little bent over after such long wear and tear up her butthole. "Jeez," Yoohyeon says as she continues to orgasm and you continue to fuck her.
Yoohyeon spreads her anus and shows you her massive gape once more. She's so stretched out now that even your balls can enter her anus while barely forcing them in. She's just your slutty puppy, your begging sugar baby, and your anal gloryhole. "Stretch my ass," she says as you place your thumb in her mouth. One extra layer of lube to grant her wish, and you're back inside her worn-out pooper. You grab her legs to allow you to increase your pace. Yoohyeon feels it as just a couple of faster thrusts have already sent her over the moon. "Oh fuck," is all she can say; her tits now jiggle as you go rougher on her, putting your hands between them. The couch continues to creak, now harder than ever as she can barely say any words now with your cock hammering her like a sex toy. Now her whole body trembles just as you give her a rest and switch to a slow-paced fucking of her lube-filled shitter.
But your mercy only lasts a few seconds as you rub Yoohyeon's dripping cunt, searching for more squirt, sensing she's still aching inside her holes. "D-d-daddy," she says with her grinding teeth, in a way you can barely hear it. She keeps squealing and moaning as she feels weaker than ever and can barely feel her legs. Your dominance over her is almost complete; you just need one item to cross off your sugar baby's checklist.
Yoohyeon closes her eyes and opens her mouth. You keep pumping her deep. She seems to be waiting for something. It doesn't take you long to find out. "May I have your cum, please?" she asks. "You want it? you reply. "I want your cum. I want it so fucking bad; please, please, give me your cum," she continues. You increase the pace of fucking her asshole, getting ready to finish inside it and crown your work of art, pushing Yoohyeon's body hard against the couch's arm, but she has different plans.
"I want your cum all over my fucking face. Hit my face with your fucking cum; cover my glass. Please, please, cum on my face; I want to taste it. Please, I want your cum. Please, please, please," Yoohyeon starts to beg. You answer her as she gets on her knees, and you start jerking your cock off before she takes control and does it herself, sucking it and getting it ready to burst. "You want that cum? Work for it!" you tease her. "Yes, I want your fucking cum," she says. "Oh, keep going," you tell her as she gets you on the edge and close to finishing.
"Oh fuck, I wanna cum." It doesn't take long for you to say those words. After an extra jerkoff from Yoohyeon, you cover her nose and her glasses full of jizz, eratically shooting to a point where some of it lands on her collarbone. A very pleased Yoohyeon sucks your cock, and now your legs are the ones that tremble. Then she takes her glasses off to lick and swallow the cum that got stuck in there, later scooping what was in her face and sending it straight to her needy mouth.
Yoohyeon keeps sucking your cock, still hard, even after she drained your balls. "Can I be your sugar baby now?" she asked. "You didn't even need to ask," you tell her. As she keeps jerking you off and you guys start thinking of your future plans, she hears some noise coming out of the door.
"I think someone is entering the house," Yoohyeon says. "Let's get out of here."
It was your daughter.
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≡;-꒰ 𝑿𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑬𝑹 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝑪𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒚
╰┈➤ ❝ xavier x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni
tags : porn with little plot, pure filth actually (quite self-indulgent), slight food play?, food sharing, slight public teasing if you squint, essentially just xavier being a little shit (again), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, oral (f. receiving), vaginal sex (unprotected), creampie, cum eating, praise, use of pet name "angel", references to "childhood snacks" secret times, lmk if i missed any tags!! ((unedited))
wc : 4.5k
an : has NO ONE ELSE noticed how often strawberry is mentioned in xavier's cards?!!! and also, thank you for 500+ follows where did you all come from omg,,,
You were far better than any candy.
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It wasn't often that the two of you got to spend a day outside together.
With how your occupations treated the both of you, most of your days off were much-preferred to be spent indoors—cuddling, watching a movie, or whatnot... and Xavier, of course, was always very fond on catching up on his sleep. Not that you ever minded; in fact, you found those extra days of simple rest very welcome. In your little afternoon naps, Xavier's presence by your side was always comfortable under the warmth of the sunlight.
But...
Sometimes, days like this were just as welcome.
Despite the Linkon heat, you wore a big smile on your face as Xavier helped you off the viking ride, gently guiding you as you stepped out of the ceramic boat. You dusted off your dress, looking back at the boat with a wistful gaze.
"That was fun, wasn't it?" He echoed your thoughts, slowly lacing his fingers together with yours in the exact way that made your heart flutter.
You looked back at him with another smile, falling into step with him. In your mind you recalled the brush of the wind in your faces as the ride swung higher and higher, the thump in your heart recalling the thrill of it and turning your smile into a full-blown grin. "Yeah!" you nodded enthusiastically. "I'm glad we went with your suggestion. Starting off with the more relaxing rides and working our way to the fun ones... You get to feel the thrill all the more!"
You caught the way his gaze softened, and he gently squeezed your wrist. "The face you make when you're excited is really pretty."
His comment came casually, and he nodded lightly to himself, almost as if confirming his statement as a pink blush slowly made its way to the tips of your ears.
"When you're embarrassed, too," he added with a smile.
You would never tire of it—how he would always make you fluster with his words, so nonchalant, so unexpected. He had that sort of habit, especially with you—the gall he had to present himself so unassuming and casual, you could never understand it, but it did the job quite well and sent your heart for a ride of its own.
With a little huff, you looked away. "You, too, then!" you could tease back normally, but this time, your response held a little less bite to it, and Xavier laughed.
"If that's how you feel, then I won't complain."
The two of you paused in front of a souvenir shop, and immediately, you felt your eyes brighten. Your grip on his hand tightened. "Xavier—"
"You want to go, right?" He had that same, knowing, gentle smile on his face, and he inclined his head towards the entrance. "Sure, then."
"But... you have to come with me!" Again, you tugged at his arm.
But there was a glint in his eyes, almost as if he knew what you were planning.
Xavier shook his head. "How about this? You can surprise me with something from this shop... And then it'll be my turn to surprise you at the next one we come across." He made a quick glance at the map in his other hand. "I think it sounds fair. Don't you?"
You could pout at his words, but there was truth in what he spoke—even as you looked at him inquisitively, you could find nothing that showed he wouldn't keep this promise, and there was no reason to refuse.
Except...
Curiously, you peered at him.
"You should know exactly what's in store for you," you narrowed your eyes playfully. "Why are you indulging me today?"
Xavier shrugged, then, and even the smile on his lips couldn't prepare you for his next statement, so raw, and honest, and genuine that it made your heart turn—"I like seeing you happy."
There wasn't an ounce of mirth in his eyes when he spoke this, and perhaps, though he was normally straightforward with you and affectionate like this at the most random of times, it would never prevent the butterflies from racing in your stomach.
Blushing, you turned away, letting go of his hand and walking to the store.
"...Wait for me here, then!"
And perhaps, it could have been part of his plan to ease you out of bullying him the way you often did, for it surely worked:
You returned out of the store not with matching bunny headbands like you'd originally intended, but cat ones, instead.
Close enough, you thought.
With a small smile, you shielded your eyes from the sun and glanced around for Xavier, only to spot him lounging near an empty bench by the fountain. It was closer to the bushes and a lot cooler with the breeze, seeing as it was a spot much further away from the crowds of people. His legs were crossed as he flipped through the pages of one of his little pocket books, and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, no doubt a sign that he, too, was feeling a little hot with the noontime sun at its peak.
As you approached with the headbands in your hand, your footsteps slowed when you noticed him reach upwards to brush the hair out of his face, his mouth opening slightly to guide the lollipop he had from one side of his cheek to the other.
Despite yourself, you gulped—
And curse how attractive of a boyfriend you truly had.
When he looked up at you, you'd barely registered for yourself that you had settled down to sit beside him, and his eyes drifted to the headbands in your hand.
"...Cat headbands?" He momentarily took the lollipop out of his mouth and raised his eyebrows at you, clearly amused. "I was expecting something else."
But you didn't reply.
Your eyes met, then, and a small, tiny tiny little smirk played on his face. It told you everything you needed to know.
Instead, you noted the slight stick of candy on the corner of his mouth, and when he put the treat back in, you barely noticed the way he took the headband from you and promptly put it over his head. Your eyes instead were focused on the way he languidly swirled his tongue over the candy.
He let out a hum of consideration as he looked at himself through the locked screen of his phone, but when the lollipop shifted around in his mouth again, his eyes turned back to you—
You had been caught.
Instinctively, you pulled your hand away from him, but he was quick as he held it in place, slowly sliding the lollipop back out of his mouth and twirling the stick between his thumb and his forefinger thoughtfully.
"This? Oh... Someone came by with all sorts of candies to sell. The children were crowding him, but I managed to get one." His gaze switched from the lollipop and then back to your face, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Sorry, angel... Did you want one, too?"
"You, um.... You didn't tell me you were gonna get one..." Your voice was thick when you spoke, and you fumbled slightly with your words.
He smiled.
Something in you told you it would be dangerous if you dared to answer, but you found that you couldn't look away from him. "...Mhm," you nodded your head, honestly speaking, even as your breath caught in your throat when he reached over to stroke the side of your face.
"We can look for a candy store next," he murmured.
You watched his eyes drop to your mouth, and he slid the thumb of his hand slowly down to your lip, his smile almost widening at the way your jaw dropped opening ever so slightly.
"Guess you don't want to wait."
Without waiting, his other hand, holding the lollipop, still wet and half-dissolved from how it had stayed in his mouth prior to your arrival, and slid it into yours. Your gazes locked as you instinctively curled your tongue around the candy, wandering over every inch of it, taking in its flavor before swallowing.
And he smiled.
"It's strawberry bubblegum," he nodded at you, again speaking somewhat matter-of-factly, but that same sly, sly smile was still plastered on his face.
Then he pushed.
A slow, filling push, as he slid the pop further into your mouth.
You gasped at the feeling, unable to help the way you sucked on the candy, unable to stop yourself from maintaining eye contact and seeing every little way pure delight would make its way to his features.
Your tongue swirled over the lollipop, lips parting when he withdrew it, feeling the way your mouth would stick with sweetness before he was guiding it back into you, twirling the stick between his fingers and allowing you to taste it again, and again. And he remained silent as he did it; slowly, precisely guiding the treat in and out of your mouth, having you breathe carefully through your nose as you looked up at him with your eyes half-lidded.
The edges of your mouth were coated with saliva and melted sugar, sticky as you swallowed all of the flavor that you could, dissolving the candy with your tongue as much as you possibly could.
When the candy remaining on the stick was considerably small, he pulled the treat out of your mouth and back into his, biting it off with an almost cheeky grin.
"It's good, isn't it?" he hummed, making a show of licking his fingers clean in front of you, watching as your eyes shifted to once again follow the movements of his tongue, and smirking slightly as your breathing became short and quick.
"Something wrong, angel?" he tilted your head back up to meet his eyes, voice so soft that you could melt. He noted the way your skin was wet and sticky, shining with the residue of the candy, and he didn't wait for your answer.
Instead, he leaned over to lap at your chin, quick, small kitten licks up your jawline until he was kissing you, making you taste the thick, sweet flavor of the strawberry lollipop still llingering in your mouths.
When he pulled away, you were dazed, your heartbeat erratic, barely processing the way he handed you a wipe to actually properly clean your face, your lips turning down into a pout.
"...You're unfair, Xavier," you whined.
You pouted even as he placed your headband onto your head, clearly smiling with satisfaction at the way the both of you matched.
"Why's that, angel?" he hummed, feigning innocence like he often did.
And it pissed you off, it really did—he was infuriating when he wanted to be, even after all he'd done just now, the taste of the candy still lingering on the tip of your tongue.
"Oh, come on! How can you do all of that and act like nothing happened?" you huffed. "I want you..."
His eyes crinkled up in joy as he laughed, reaching over to pat your head. "But we're here for the rides, aren't we? You said you'd go on all of them."
When you crossed your arms and looked away, pressing your thighs together in a way that he definitely noticed, he only chuckled once more and gave you a small kiss on the top of your head.
"Later," he murmured, "I promise. But for now... We shouldn't waste our admission tickets."
You couldn't argue after that.
He had a point, after all—and luckily for you, in the end, it wasn't too hard for you to let your arousal slip off your mind for the rest of the day.
Instead, you simply enjoyed being in his company.
Each ride you took, from the drop tower to the rollercoaster to even a little game of bumper cars, was as exhilarating as the last. Even winning a target game against him by barely a single point had you jumping up and down with glee, your arm carrying a big, fluffy white bunny that you confidently stated looked a lot like him. And almost like an unspoken promise, he didn't tease you any more than he already had—the cotton candy remained cotton candy, the marshmallows remained marshmallows, and the animal crackers were eaten just as they should be.
By the time you both had walked back to your apartment, the little bag in his hand containing whatever "surprise" he'd gotten for you rustled against his wrist, and you peered curiously into it once you settled with him on the couch.
"Candy?" you questioned doubtfully as you pulled out a little packet of licorcice, but your eyes shone when you eagerly popped it into your mouth and chewed.
Xavier shrugged, leaning back into the couch. "That... last time we tried snacks together was fun, so I figured you'd appreciate another one."
You almost laughed. "But those were my childhood snacks! These are just your typical candy! We could've tried these any day, you know?"
He raised an eyebrow, taking a chewable candy into his mouth. "We could've worn animal ears any other day, too."
This time you grinned, and settled into his arms. "Yeah, you're right. I have a sweet tooth, anyway, so I'll gladly eat candy with you. You didn't need to set this up..."
You fished into the bag and pulled out a smaller bag of chocolate bits, its brand unfamiliar to you as you held it up.
"Oh, I thought you'd like that one," Xavier spoke first this time. "You like milk chocolate, don't you?"
Something in your heart sparked at the mention, and you couldn't help but smile. "You remembered!"
Your hands were eager as you opened up the packet, unwrapping one piece and putting it into your mouth.
The first bite had your eyes sparkling wide, noting how it melted into your mouth as you chewed.
Xavier looked at you, amused. "Is it good?"
You were excited as you took out another piece of chocolate, and you nodded—this time, you closed your eyes to savor the taste, letting yourself relax into the richness of its flavor. "Mmm... t'so good..." You'd barely noticed the way your satisfaction had the tone of your words twisting into something mildly inappropriate, your eyes still closed as you chewed. And you couldn't have registered that particular smile edge at Xavier's lips once more.
But Xavier wouldn't let you off the hook that easily.
"Hmm. Could I try some?" His voice was close to your ear when he murmured out his words, but you were happy to oblige him, clearly not catching onto his intentions.
You held up the bag of chocolates for him, taking yet another into your mouth—
Instead, he smirked down at you and gently set the chocolates back into the bag with the rest of the candy, pushing it off the couch as his lips found yours.
Your eyes widened, his tongue mixing with yours and tasting for himself the milkiness of the chocolate you'd eaten, his own eyes half-lidded as he lowered you onto the couch. When your head hit the armrest, all sense of arousal from earlier at the theme park came rushing back to you in waves, and you gave in.
Xavier pulled away only to kiss you once more with increasing fervor, and you moaned into the kiss, feeling any rational thought seep from your head within seconds. Your arms were around his neck and his hand was in your hair, your clothed bodies flush against each other as the kiss, the moment, became steadily more passionate, steadily more heated.
The bag of candy slumped on the ground beside the couch, easily long-forgotten with the way his lips moved against yours, his tongue soft and wet in your mouth as the heat slowly began to crawl over to your cheeks. When he pulled back, you were flushed, breathless. His body hovered over yours, his hair hanging over your face, his eyes displaying a lingering sense of desire that mirrored your own.
You swallowed thickly.
"Yeah," Xavier breathed, his voice hushed. He licked his lips. "The chocolate tastes good."
You could barely believe he was still talking about that.
"I-I don—"
"But... I have an idea of what would taste better."
He cut off the beginnings of your protest with a little smirk, and you could see the way his eyes raked over your body to where the skirt of your dress had ridden up just enough to expose the side of your panties.
Your heart thrummed loudly in your chest.
"Wh- what would that be?" You tried testing him, tried to look into his eyes to gauge what his next move was.
"You don't know, angel?" He murmured as he drew closer to you once more, lips barely touching yours, his hot breath fanning over your face.
Feebly, you whimpered, but you didn't dare make a move.
Xavier dipped down to bury his face into your neck, and breathed in deeply. "You smell like strawberries."
Your breath hitched.
"Did you plan this? Your lotion... It's new."
You felt his hands snake underneath your dress, pushing the fabric upwards to grip firmly on your waist. The contact on your bare skin made your eyelids flutter closed.
"F-for you," you replied, your breath shaky.
"For me?"
"Y-you... You like strawberry, so I thought I, um... would make you happy with it..."
Xavier pulled back away from you with a warm smile, his hand leaving your waist momentarily to brush the hair out of his face.
"You always make me happy no matter what you do, angel," he spoke sincerely, genuinely, despite the heated moment that the both of you had just shared. But his eyes narrowed almost playfully, and he tilted his head to the side with a short laugh. "But you don't know how much I've been waiting to eat you up because of that scent."
His words made you whine, a mixture of both pride and embarrassment coarsing through your body at the fact that you had been the one to get him all needy like this for you.
"So, angel..." Xavier trailed his fingertips over your thighs, pushing them apart as he shifted downwards, closer to your core. Another smile teased at his lips when your breath hitched, but his eyes never left yours. "May I?"
You threaded your hands into his hair, and your eyes fell closed.
"Okay."
His lips were on your thighs then, warm and soft as he trailed his kisses upwards. And the sensation of it all made you shiver, but you could almost feel the way it affected him, too. He'd let out soft sighs against your skin, drinking in your scent and your warmth, and then his kisses would almost get needier, craving you just as much as he made you crave him.
You gasped the minute he pressed himself closer to your clothed cunt, breathing in your scent yet again and then poking his tongue out at the wetness that had gathered in your center. Then from there, his movements became quick—his hands shifted beneath your hips, lifting them upwards towards him, your legs draped over his shoulders as he pushed your panties to the side. You couldn't help the way your mouth fell open with a drawn-out moan of his name once he ran his tongue through your folds, licking a wet stripe from your slit upwards.
Your fingers gripped desperately into his hair.
Such a simple motion already had you reeling.
"You even taste like fucking strawberries," he mumbled, before he repeated the motions, long, slow, languid licks that geadually turned to gentle lapping at your wetness. His tongue moved upwards to flick occasionally at your clit, and you could revel in the way he looked—so lost in your taste, his quiet groans reverberating through your body.
And then your thighs trembled around his head, and your eyes widened at the smooth, silky prodding of his tongue as it finally slid inside of you.
"O- oh, god," you leaned your head back against the armrest of his couch, your eyes falling shut once more.
You could have sworn you felt him smile.
With another moan, your hand fell from his head back onto the couch, searching for purchase only for him to reach out, taking advantage of the way you arched your back, and catch your hand with his.
He laced your fingers through together even as he continued to swirl his tongue in your heat, drinking up your arousal, pressing his face closer and closer into you—despite the obscenity of his ministrations and the noises that fell from your lips, the simple action of holding your hand almost made you swoon.
And he didn't dare let go of it.
"I— haah— Xavi—!"
Feeling a familiar knot form in your stomach, you began to languidly roll your hips against his face, matching the way his tongue would dance over and in your folds. In response, Xavier moved with fervor in his actions, focusing on sucking at your clit, flicking his tongue in ways he knew you loved best.
You barely noticed the way his other hand had also left its spot by your hips before a finger entered where his tongue had earlier been—he hooked it inwards, curling just right to hit your sensitive spot, and you let out another loud moan.
"Fuck—! X-Xavier!" You threw your head back, gripping his hand tightly, your other digging desperately into his couch. Your body writhed, a sharp rush of pleasure making you shudder and cry out more of his name as he continued to swirl around your clit, and another finger carefully prodded at your hole.
You couldn't see the way he smiled at you, but you felt it—felt it in the way he sucked on your bud, felt it in the way he stretched you out and moved his fingers in and out of you, until you snapped.
Your hips bucked upwards and into him, holding in place, as your body succumbed to the pleasure.
"X—Xavi—er!" You cried, and his hand holding yours made sweet, gentle caresses over your skin, his tongue still lapping up all that you had to give him. He let out a hum as he moved from your cunt, to your thighs, to your belly, and up to the exposed skin on your neck, leaving a loving trail of kisses, and then he rest his forehead against yours.
"Did that feel nice?" he whispered, lips meeting yours in quick, fond pecks, blue eyes nearly shimmering with how much affection he held for you.
It was more than nice, you thought, but you answered him with a kiss. And as he continued to kiss you back, Xavier edged his hand downwards, slowly, slowly, before the tip of his cock nudged against your entrance—
The contact made you gasp and arch upwards. "Xavi—?!"
"Nnh... Please, angel?" He sighed, nuzzling your nose, massaging your hand. "'M not done with you yet. You can give me more, right?"
You whimpered.
You could feel the sensitivity from your earlier orgasm, unsure if you could truly push yourself for another one. But his cockhead would dip in so... nicely. Xavier was teasing, testing you as he waited for your reply—
And you couldn't resist.
When you gave him a feeble nod, he smiled.
"That's my girl."
The praise made you shiver with delight as he pushed into you slowly, setting an unhurried place, his lips back onto your skin as he nibbled just over your collarbone.
"Ngh... Xavier..." you whined as he slid all the way into you and his teeth grazed your skin, the sting of his bite somewhat foreign, but not unwelcome. "T-tomorrow, we have a..."
"Wear a scarf," he mumbled, barely looking up at you before he shifted to suck on the area next to the mark he'd just made, his intentions with you very clear. In seconds, every roll of his hips against yours, coupled with the way he would bruise at your skin and leave visible evidence of your activities, had you throwing your head back with a moan.
"Mmf—fuck, Xavi," you gripped his body tightly against yours, feeling the way his cock would stretch your walls so perfectly.
"Mh? 'S it good?"
He angled his thrust right against the spongey spot in your walls, and you gasped, feeling the way he would smile against your neck.
It was clear affirmation for him, if your moans of his name didn't already give him enough of it—and despite the fact that you had already cum once, he was adamant on getting you to that high once more.
"Feels good for me, too," he groaned as his pace began to pick up, the faint sounds of skin slapping reaching your ears. Each stroke of his length moved with purpose, hitting that same spot over and over and over, your mouth falling open in whimpers and moans of his name.
"Ah— X- Xavier!" You bucked your hips to match his pace, his grip on you getting tighter, his breath hot and heavy against your neck.
Your eyes met, and you keened at the way his hair fell over his face, his eyes searching yours for something you couldn't name. "...You're so beautiful, angel," he breathed, nearly panting, his thrusts becoming quicker and more erratic.
And you could have thrown the words back at him, were you not so lost in your pleasure as you clenched around his cock, gripping his hand tightly in yours.
"C-close— Xavi—!"
You began panting, your vision hazy, as he rut his hips into yours.
"Mhm— almost there— angel— fuck—"
One final thrust had him collapsing onto your body, pulling your own release out of you as he spilled inside, his cock twitching within your walls as he came.
"Xavier..." you whined, reaching to wrap your arms around him, almost cradling him as he groaned into your skin. "Xavier, I..."
He hushed you with a sloppy kiss, and you could feel the way a significant amount of energy had seeped from his body as he gave you a tiny little smile.
"I love you too, angel," he mumbled, before he was sliding down your body once more, your eyes widening when he settled between your thighs yet again.
"H-huh? What are you—ah—!"
You shuddered and gasped at the contact of his tongue back on your folds, still sensitive as you pushed his cum out of you. But yet his eyes remained on yours, and he stuck out his tongue out to continue lapping at the mess he'd made in your cunt.
"Xavier!" you cried. "P-please, no more...!"
He shook his head slightly. "Shh, angel. Don't worry, relax. Just let me clean you up," he mumbled, taking a dollop of your fluids into his mouth, and then swallowing as you watched, your face flushing red.
There was a small, almost cheeky smile lifting the corners of his mouth when he raised his head slightly.
"It's better than candy."
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⁺₊ / an: took a break from requests to get this up before we all get "unique aftertaste", bc this was mildly inspired by the trailer! <3 xavi with food play has been on my mind a lot, if it wasn't obvious yet...
© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.
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dolcettamagica · 25 days
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𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲
yandere!nanami x reader
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tags: yandere – extreme possessive and obsessive behaviour, like extreme, cage, angst no comfort, twisted love notes: request by: @superslutny wc: 1.8k
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Nanami sat in his dimly lit apartment, his eyes fixed on the clock ticking away on the wall. Each second felt like an eternity, his mind consumed by thoughts of you. You, his everything, the light that brightened his otherwise dull existence. You were his girlfriend, his confidante, his reason for waking up every morning. But lately, something gnawed at Nanami, something dark and relentless.
Jealousy had always been a shadow lurking in the corners of his mind, but recently it had grown into a raging storm, consuming his every thought. He tried to control it, tried to push it down deep inside, but it clawed its way back, stronger and more insistent than before.
You were the only good thing in Nanami's life, and he couldn't bear the thought of losing you. You were beautiful, kind, and fiercely independent. But to Nanami, you were also a prize to be protected at all costs, a possession that he couldn't bear to share with the world.
He would watch you closely, his eyes following your every move, his heart racing with fear at the mere thought of someone else stealing you away. He knew it was irrational, he knew he was being unfair to you, but he couldn't help it. The jealousy consumed him, twisted his thoughts into dark, irrational patterns.
He tried to control it, tried to be the loving boyfriend he knew you deserved, but his efforts were futile. He couldn't help but question your every move, interrogate you about your whereabouts, and demand constant reassurance of your love and fidelity.
You tried to understand, tried to be patient with Nanami, but the constant scrutiny and possessiveness began to wear you down. You felt suffocated, trapped in a relationship that was becoming more suffocating by the day.
One evening, after yet another explosive argument fueled by Nanami’s jealousy, you couldn't take it anymore. With tears in your eyes, you packed your bags and tried to walk out the door.
Nanami couldn’t let you leave.
As you packed your bags, Nanami's anxiety and possessiveness intensified. He couldn't fathom a life without you, couldn't imagine facing the world alone. With each item you placed in your suitcase, his desperation grew, a knot tightening in his chest.
"Please, my love," Nanami pleaded, his voice trembling with emotion. "Don't go. I need you. You're everything to me."
You paused, your eyes filled with a mixture of sympathy and frustration. You knew Nanami loved you deeply, but his jealousy was suffocating you. You longed for space, for freedom from his constant scrutiny and control.
"Kento," you said softly, placing a hand on his trembling shoulder. "I need some time to think. I'll stay tonight, but tomorrow I have to go."
Nanami nodded, his heart sinking with resignation. He knew he couldn't force you to stay, but the thought of you leaving tore him apart inside. He resolved to make the most of your remaining time together, to show you just how much you meant to him.
But as the night wore on, Nanami’s jealousy bubbled to the surface once again. He couldn't shake the feeling that you were slipping away from him, that you were already planning your escape. Every innocent glance at your phone, every moment of silence between you, fueled his paranoia. He can’t let you leave, he won’t let you.
Despite the darkness that now enveloped Nanami's mind, there were moments of light, memories that shone like beacons in the fog of his obsession.
He remembered the first time you met, your eyes locking across a crowded room, a spark igniting between you that would soon blossom into love. He remembered your laughter, the sound of your infectious giggles echoing through the air as you shared inside jokes and silly stories.
He remembered your late-night conversations, the deep, meaningful talks that lasted until the early hours of the morning. You bared your souls to each other, sharing hopes, fears, and dreams with a level of intimacy that Nanami had never known before.
He remembered your walks in the park, hand in hand, the world fading away as you lost yourselves in each other's presence. The warmth of the sun on your faces, the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze—it was in these moments that Nanami felt truly alive, truly loved.
And above all, he remembered the way you looked at him, your eyes filled with a love so pure and unconditional that it took his breath away. In your arms, he found solace from the demons that haunted him, a sense of peace that he had never known before.
Tears welled up in Nanami's eyes as he reached out to you, his fingers brushing against your sleeping form. "I'm sorry, my love," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I love you more than anything in this world. Please forgive me."
As you slept peacefully beside him, Nanami's mind churned with a plan born from his darkest impulses. With each breath you took, he felt the weight of his possessiveness pressing down on him, suffocating him with the fear of losing you.
Quietly, Nanami slipped out of bed, his movements deliberate and stealthy. He moved through the apartment like a shadow, his heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and dread. In the corner of the room, hidden from sight, stood the cage he had meticulously prepared for this moment.
With trembling hands, Nanami approached the cage and swung open the door, the metal hinges creaking softly in the stillness of the night. He returned to the bed where you lay, your form bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, and gently lifted your sleeping body into his arms.
With great care, Nanami carried you to the cage and laid you down inside, your limbs falling limply against the cold metal bars. He fastened the lock with shaking hands, the sound echoing through the room like a final, ominous chord.
The cage stood as a looming testament to Nanami's descent into madness, yet within its confines lay a paradoxical blend of memories and attempts at comfort. 
Constructed from sturdy steel bars, it was large enough for you to move around, to stretch your limbs and turn, yet small enough to serve its purpose—to confine you to Nanami's world, to keep you close at all costs. 
Despite its stark appearance, the cage was not devoid of warmth. Nanami had adorned its interior with small touches meant to evoke the memories you had shared together. A soft blanket, the one you had cuddled under on countless nights, draped over a corner. A stack of books you had read together rested nearby, their pages worn and dog-eared from hours of shared exploration. 
In one corner, Nanami had placed a small photo album, filled with snapshots of your happiest moments—smiling faces, stolen kisses, and adventures captured in frozen time. It was a reminder of the love you had once shared, a testament to the bond that had brought you together.
Despite his actions, Nanami had tried to make the cage as bearable as possible for you. He had stocked it with food and water, enough to sustain you until he could find a way to make things right. He had even left a note, a heartfelt apology penned in shaky handwriting, expressing his love and regret for what he had done.
But no amount of comfort could mask the reality of your captivity, the suffocating weight of Nanami's possessiveness bearing down on you with each passing moment. 
As you began to stir, Nanami stepped back, his heart pounding in his chest. He watched with a mixture of dread and fascination as you slowly woke, confusion clouding your eyes as you realized your predicament.
"What... what's going on?" your voice was barely a whisper, filled with equal parts fear and disbelief.
Nanami approached the cage, his eyes filled with desperation as he tried to explain himself. "I'm sorry, love," he pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. "I couldn't bear the thought of losing you. I had to do something to keep you with me, to make sure you never leave."
Your eyes widened in horror as the truth of Nanami's actions sank in. You rattled the bars of the cage, your voice rising to a panicked scream as you begged him to let you out.
But Nanmi was lost to his own madness, consumed by his obsessive need to possess you. He watched you from the other side of the cage, his heart torn between love and despair as he realized the depth of his own depravity.
He paced back and forth in front of the cage, his emotions a tempest raging within him. His eyes bore into you, filled with a mixture of desperation and love, as he began to rant, the words pouring out of him like a torrential downpour.
"I love you, darling. God, I love you more than anything in this world," he began, his voice trembling with raw emotion. "I would do anything for you, anything to keep you safe, to protect you from the dangers of this world."
He paused, his chest heaving with the weight of his emotions, before continuing with increasing fervor. "I can't stand the thought of you out there, exposed and vulnerable, surrounded by people who don't understand you like I do. People who don't appreciate you, who don't see you for the incredible person that you are."
Nanami's voice rose to a crescendo as he spoke, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "I just want to keep you close, my love. To shelter you from the storms that rage outside these walls, to shield you from the pain and heartache that the world can inflict. Can't you see that everything I've done, everything I've built, it's all for you? Because I love you. Because I need you."
Tears welled up in Nanami's eyes as he spoke, his voice cracking with emotion. "I know I've made mistakes, darling. I know I've hurt you, and I'm sorry. But please, please don't leave me. Don't abandon me to face this world alone. I couldn't bear it. I couldn't survive without you."
He fell silent then, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. He watched you through tear-blurred eyes, his heart laid bare before you, praying with every fiber of his being that you would understand, that you would forgive him, that you would stay.
“This is insane, Kento! This isn’t love!”
And as your cries echoed through the empty apartment, Nanami knew that he had crossed a line from which there could be no return. In locking you away, he had lost not only your love, but his own soul as well.
"I can’t cage my jealousy so I’ll have to just cage you."
574 notes · View notes
zhongrin · 19 days
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✼ tags ┈ sagau, gn!reader, creator!reader, not impostor au, more of a concept description than actual fic/hc, angst, hurt -> comfort(ish), slight mindfuckery, no specified pairing (general concept, so you can imagine your faves)
✼ a/n ┈ not sure if this exists yet but i'm feeling... not so good, and this idea hit me last night.
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sagau plotline where you're thrown back into teyvat, and of course you absolutely loved it ー everyone loves you, your favorites seem to always wish to be near you, the world brightens when you smile and dulls as your mood sours... everything's just. perfect.
until one day it hits you.
you were the creator.
you made them this way.
of course teyvat and its law abides to your will. you made it this way.
of course the animals and all the nonhuman lifeforms favor you. you made them this way.
of course everyone loves you. you made them this way.
what would your favored one think when one day, they realize this, too?
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(word vomit content ahead)
imagine the physiological mindfuck you could explore with this. one could even claim essentially akin to a curse, and for the super devoted ones like zhongli, i imagine it would hit so much harder. what do you mean his steadfast devotion was an illusion all along? what do you mean the fact that he can't get fully angry and not resorting to bury you ten thousand feet under is because he was cursed with this very predicament? why would you do this?
and then maybe you feel so bad that one day you just decide to use up all your power to erase this core trait from all lifeforms walking upon teyvat. due to the sheer scale of the action, i'd imagine it wouldn't be a stretch to result in your death. or at the very minimum a coma of sorts. (cliche i know but imagine the mental stress of it all for a moment. personally i'd go insane from the combination of guilt, impostor syndrome, doubting my self-worth 24/7, and paranoia. but if your mental fortitude can handle it then congrats ig)
a 'happy ending' alternative would be for your favorite to wake up the next day and realize what you've done... and yet instead of being glad that they were freed from the 'curse', all they felt was dread. they rush towards your side, fall onto their knees, and cradle your hand, their own ones shaking terribly.
they find themselves loving you, still.
for them, it was never a curse.
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✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ) ┈ @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @sunnshineflxwer | @yuutasbabe | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @marina-and-the-memes | @mixed-kester | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @irethepotato | @sassy-cat-in-town | @syrenkitsune | @smokipoki | @cakeboxie | @crystalflygeo | @ciexuvia | @illaasya | @celestewritestoomuch | @pams-comfortzone | @spidermanluvr444 | @ourstrawberryclouds | @ryuryuryuyurboat | @hrts4hanniehae | @fiannee | @jingyuansbird | @florapocalypses | @genshin-impacts-me | @scarasmood | @hellcatinnc | @beloved-brynn
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artemis32 · 3 months
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Locksley
yandere Batfam x reader
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yes, i do love them. yes, it is a problem. yes, i will make this my entire personality for the next two and a half months
also, necessary disclaimer, there’s a piece of dialogue in this that i took from a youtube asmr channel (bite me, they’re interesting and i’m starved of attention) - it’s jimち asmr, if you’re interested
word count - 4.8k
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mbe masterlist
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You wouldn’t call yourself a hero, not in any sense of the word. Likewise, you didn’t consider yourself a villain. You were something in between - you did bad things for good reasons, you did good things for bad reasons. 
Living in Gotham changed people. No matter how kind or well-intentioned, everyone ended up corrupt sooner or later. Some just fell further from grace than others. 
The people you helped would argue that you were a hero, someone who deserved recognition and respect for your actions. The people you stole from tended to disagree.
You didn’t care much about what you were. Heroes, villains… They were all the same in your eyes. They wrecked havoc and left people like you to deal with the aftermath - an ordinary citizen who had neither the means nor the aspirations to fix what they’d broken.
****
You started years ago, before you were even a teenager.
It was small things at first. Single fruits, a loaf of bread, a blanket, cough syrup. Things people wouldn’t usually notice. 
You realised pretty soon that you were good at stealing, good at getting away without people noticing. Very good.
Stealing felt justified in your young mind. You told yourself that it was okay. It was okay because you weren’t stealing for yourself. Never for yourself. Never committing a crime for personal benefit.
No, you stole to help others. You did what you could to help those that were too weak or scared to help themselves. 
In those early years, when you were still young and hopeful, you likened yourself to Robin Hood. Stealing from the rich to give to the poor.
Now, years later, the sentiment had faded. 
You still stole from the rich. You still gave everything you stole to the poor. 
Poverty in Gotham was a disease. The densely populated apartment blocks in the Narrows, where you lived, housed more people than it should have, and those people had become somewhat of a family to you. Or at least as close as you’d ever get. So you did what you could to keep them safe and alive. Stealing food to keep them fed, stealing clothes and blankets to keep them warm, stealing medicine to keep them healthy, stealing toys to keep the children hopeful.
That was your job, your purpose in life.
It made you feel as though you had a use. Seeing how people’s faces brightened, how happy they looked to see you when you bought a spare blanket or some extra food, or a toy a hopeful child had been eyeing for a while, it made you feel as though your life wasn’t completely meaningless.
Your life had a purpose. And that purpose was to help those who couldn’t help themselves. 
So you did.
And you never got caught. Not once. 
Until you did.
****
This uniform is so fucking uncomfortable. How do these people do this all day? You think, slipping your index finger beneath the buttoned collar of your shirt, tugging at it in a lacklustre attempt to catch a breath.
As much as recon was necessary, it was also an annoyance most of the time. It was times like these that you thanked the stars above that you weren’t born into a wealthy family. Stuffy galas and boring board meetings were never your thing.
The crowd of wealthy tycoons and aristocrats barely paid the waitstaff a second thought, primping and preening as they mingled amongst one another, trying to impress people who were too self centred to notice them. 
You would’ve rolled your eyes and gagged at the sight, had it not acted as the perfect cover for you. 
Stealing the name tag and uniform off of the service roster was simple enough, and sneaking in through the service entrance of the disgustingly lavish manor was a breeze. Now, as you flit through the crowd of supercilious pricks, you feel grateful for your own nondescript appearance.
Blending in with the average service worker was a blessing, one you took full advantage of as you scanned the large ballroom. There were several large windows, massive panes of glass bordered with ornately carved ebony wood frames. The doors were just as grand, two sets of double doors, and a smaller service door in the very corner of the room, all dark stained ebony to match the windows, were just as detailed and lavish.
It made you sick.
How could these people live so wastefully? How could they live so easily? Their biggest worry was keeping their faces youthful and their houses fancy. It didn’t make sense. Even now, after months, years of doing this, it still confused you - the fact that you lived such a jarringly different life, one that seemed so pathetic in comparison to the vapid crowd that surrounded you.
At the very least, it eased your conscience, and made your job easier. You felt no pity, no remorse for stealing from people like those gathered around you. Very few of them had actually worked for what they had in life. No, it was handed to them at birth. Life was funny like that. Those who work hard are left impoverished, and those who give in to gluttony and greed never have to work a day in their lives for what they have.
You discarded the now empty serving tray behind a potted plant, slipping out the large double doors and into the empty corridor beyond. The halls were silent and dark, moonlight casting large shadows over the walls.
The manor’s antiquated runner rug muffled the sound of your footsteps as you crept along the wall of the corridor, carefully taking note of each door, drawing up a mental map as you continued. 
Every corner you turned was more extravagant than the last. You could practically feel the wealth seeping out of the walls. It disgusted you. 
At least it was nice to look at.
Twenty minutes later, you’ve made it up to the East Wing, the furthest part of the manor from the ballroom. It seems to be the personal quarters of whoever the hell owns this abomination of a house. On the trek up several flights of stairs, you’d passed a collection of bedrooms, several smaller living rooms, and,to your great delight, a study. Though, ‘study’ feels like the wrong word to describe the room.
It looks more like a grotesque mix of a library and a maze, and if you were any more wet behind the ears, you might’ve been intimidated by the sheer size of it. In fact, if you’d stumbled upon a room like this a few years ago, you’d have been in awe. The value of a single item in this room would have you set for life. 
But you don’t allow yourself to be caught up in the moment, keeping steely focus as you move silently, swiftly between towering shelves. You don’t take anything. Not yet. The time for that would come later. Right now, you focus instead on gathering information. The layout of the manor, alarms, sensors, residents.
The last part was always the hardest, especially with people like the elite of Gotham city. People came and went as they pleased, and the odds of you running into someone was higher in extravagant homes like this, what with their abundance of butlers and maids. But you’d avoided them all up to this point, never once encountering anyone in more than a decade of prowling.
And this manor - the famous Wayne residence - never housed more than a dozen people on any given night. You knew the staff and groundskeepers all went home in the evening, leaving the property all but abandoned at night.
You reach the end of the room, pausing only to glance over at the large grandfather clock nestled between two shelves before you turn on your heel and stride back towards the door. You’d gotten what you came for. Now, it was time to take your leave, full mental map in tow. 
Getting out of the gala was a lot easier than getting in, and you took the time to register the smaller details of the manor. In this time, you confirmed one thing you knew for certain:
Wayne manor disgusted you in all its excessive wealth.
Bruce Wayne may have appeared as some kind of well meaning philanthropist or humanitarian, but you knew his pockets ran deep. Much of his wealth, generational and unearned, was hoarded while the rest of Gotham was left to rot in poverty. 
It was, in part, the reason that you didn’t feel bad about what you were doing. He, alongside the rest of Gotham’s elite, had done nothing to earn what they had. You were just levelling out the playing field, giving those in the Narrows a fair chance at life.
And if you had to dirty your hands to help them, then so be it.
****
The thick carpet muffles your landing, though you don’t really need it.
Over the years, you’d mastered your movements, learning how to move silently, without notice. It’d been born from necessity, rather than genuine desire. Growing up in the Narrows wasn’t good for much, but at least you learnt pretty quickly that it was easier to get by if you went unnoticed.
You gently close the window, pushing the polished wooden frame with your fingertips, wincing at the soft click of the lock. Any noise was too much.
The corridors are empty as you silently sweep through the manor, as expected. You aim for the lavish library you’d scoped out a week prior, mental checklist ready. 
Avoiding the cameras and alarms is easy enough, especially when the majority of them scoped the perimeter, rather than the interior. The lack of security, combined with the excessive luxury confirmed what you’d always thought.
Rich people were fucking dumb.
They really thought their money could protect them from everything. Well, there was one thing that no amount of money could save them from.
People like you. People with absolutely nothing to lose.
You had no family, no prized possessions, no desire or greed. And you sure as hell didn’t harbour any fear for people like them.
Eventually, you arrive in the East Wing, slowing your stride slightly. You strain your ears for any hint of movement, blending seamlessly into the shadows as you prowl the corridor. The ornately carved solid wood door opens with a silent swoosh, and you slip into the room a mere moment later.
Someone’s here.
You take note of it a moment too late, slipping between two towering shelves the instant you hear the soft murmurs of a conversation. The lighting is dim, shadows dancing across the room, sourced from the crackling fireplace at the back of the study.
Fuck.
It takes you a beat longer than usual to calm your now racing heart, and the instant you get it under control, you’re back to creeping along the shadows, hands darting out to grab at ornaments and books, shoving them silently into every pocket and gap in your suit and small backpack.
If you could, you’d have brought a bigger bag, but you needed to travel light - light enough to make a swift exit if needed. 
You manage to grab quite a few things without nearing the source of conversation, which you’ve now determined to be two men murmuring lowly near the fireplace. Relief settles heavy in your bones as you creep back towards the door, thankful for the numerous shelves hiding you from view.
Lady Luck was a fickle being, and it seemed she’d decided your time was up.
When you’re about ten steps away from the exit, senses on high alert, time seems to slow, the baroque handle dropping slowly as the door is pushed open. You’re back in the shadows before it fully opens, back pressed against the wall while you weigh your options.
The door is out of the question. There’s no way to slip out without being noticed. The window, maybe?
One glance at the tightly latched windows across the room dash that idea immediately.
Panic swirls up your spine, threatening to take over. If you got caught here, there’s no telling what would happen to you.
As you scramble to come up with a plan, the door swings open and a man steps into the room. He’s young, fresh-faced, perhaps a year or two younger than you. He’s handsome too, in the way aristocrats often were - light eyes, tanned skin, full lips. He was striking. 
And he turned to look right at you.
You’re up, on top of the nearest shelf seconds before his eyes slide towards you. You squeeze your eyes shut, sweat slicked palms pressed flat against the dusty wooden shelf underneath you.
Fuck.
He lingers for a moment, taking a step closer into the shadows, to the spot you’d stood in moments ago. 
There’s no way he knew. He couldn’t.
After several tense, painful seconds, his brow twitches and he turns on his heel, striding over to the other two men, his gait confident and swift. You let out a soft sigh, relaxing only a bit as you try to stop the nervous tremors in your hands.
Escape comes hours later, near three in the morning, when all three men eventually retire to their rooms. You couldn’t get out of that eerie, shadowed manor fast enough.
****
“You really should lock your door at night, especially in this area. You never know when some creep might think about inviting themselves in. Windows too, for that matter - or else B&E’s would just be… Well, E’s.” 
It was barely two in the morning. You’d crawled into bed, still fully clothed, less than an hour ago, exhausted from a long day of work in the hellscape that was hospitality. You hadn’t even had the energy to look over your next few potential hits, never mind take a shower or have dinner.
So it’s no surprise that you’re disoriented, thrown off guard when you wake up to a masked man leaning far too casually against your derelict old couch, slim katana resting comfortably in his hand while he twirls it around.
“Then again,” he continues, ignoring the wide eyed look you give him. You flinch back, the movement too slight to notice as he straightens and strides over to you. “You’ve made my job easier. So I should thank you.”
He stands, hovering over you, arms hanging casually at his sides beneath his cloak as he regards you. The mask he wears hides his eyes, and it feels as though you’re staring up into dark, never-ending pits rather than eyes.
“Hm. You look different than what I expected. Younger. How old are you?”
If you weren’t so terrified, you might’ve laughed. Here, in your cramped, dingy bedsit, stood someone who appeared more demon than man, and he was presumptuous enough to critique your appearance. Worse still is the fact that you might’ve answered him, had he not swiftly changed topics.
“It doesn’t matter. A criminal is a criminal. Blackgate has a cell with your name on it.”
The train rumbles by and shakes the thin walls of your apartment, casting an eerie half glow bright enough to just barely light up your apartment.
Your blood runs cold.
Robin.
You’re moving before he has time to register what’s happening, tossing your worn knit blanket at his head as you leap from your bed, the small single’s frame groaning beneath you at the abrupt movement. You’re across the room when he recovers, hand on the doorknob. Seconds later, a vaguely bird-shaped dagger embeds itself into the doorframe right beside your hand.
“Don’t move.”
For once, despite the alarm bells blaring in your head, you listen. You fight against your instincts and the burning in your limbs as he approaches, closer and closer with every taunting step until he’s right in front of you, another stupid bird-shaped dagger nicking the soft underside of your jaw.
“You’re coming with me. Peacefully.”
Your brow twitches in annoyance at his tone. It’s so condescending, as if he thinks he’s talking to a child. If this was anyone else, you might’ve fought back, but of the list of people you avoided, the Gotham vigilantes associated with Batman were top of the list. 
They were so irritatingly self-righteous, and you knew without a shadow of a doubt that they’d view you as a scum of the earth criminal, should they ever catch you. It was part of the reason you’d avoided them so religiously, and you’d done a great job of it up until this point. The only question on your mind right now, though, was-
“How?”
Robin tilts his head, mouth flat. “How what?”
You lift your chin a bit more as he raises his dagger, softly piercing the skin, as if in a warning.
“How did you find me?”
If you could see his eyes, you were sure they’d hold an incredulous look, as if to ask ‘are you stupid?’. But you weren’t. Not like this. You weren’t sloppy. And you sure as hell didn’t step on toes when you stole, especially not enough to gain the attention of a run of the mill vigilante. There was no reason for him to be standing here, in your apartment, all but pinning you to the door.
“How did you find me?” you insist, pushing forward despite the slight sting against your jaw. “What did you see?”
He sets his jaw, tilting his head down as he speaks through clenched teeth. 
“Stealing from Bruce Wayne of all people was a dumb move.”
Your blood chills in your veins.
So someone did see me then… That man. That boy. Fuck.
“It was especially dumb to stick around for four hours afterwards.”
At that moment, you weigh your options. 
If you go with him peacefully, all but turn yourself in, Blackgate would be the least of your worries. You stole from Bruce Wayne.
Wronging such an influential man would have its own set of unique consequences, and it wasn’t yourself you were worried about. Anyone you’d helped in the process would be incriminated. All those innocent people, the women and children, the elderly people who lived around you… 
No. You couldn’t go with him. 
Prison was one thing. Endangering those you swore to help was another entirely.
With your mind made up, everything else is easy.
You grab the wrought iron coat rack beside the door and swing it upwards, aiming for his head without a second thought. The moment he releases you and shoves you back, you’re out the door, sprinting down several flights of stairs.
Too slow. Faster. Move faster.
You hear him behind you, footsteps ringing out like a death knell. 
He wants you to hear him. You know he does. A vigilante like that, someone as skilled as him - you wouldn’t hear him unless he wanted you too.
Honestly, you were quite proud of yourself. You’d made it further than you’d expected. The uneven gravel stings against your bare feet as you sprint through the side alley, aiming for the main street.
It was pointless. You knew it was. Even if you could make it that far, it wouldn’t amount to anything. No one would help you. No one could help you.
Regardless, you still feel disappointed when he grabs you by the collar of your thin, old sleepshirt, yanking you back. The exit to the alley, a mere two metres away, seems to mock you.
In that moment, you think about what you’d done. You truly think, and realise that you didn’t regret a single thing. You didn’t care about what happened to you. Everything you’d taken had helped so many people, far more than it would have helped Bruce Wayne, gathering dust in his old study. 
Everyone had been so happy, so relieved at how much you’d managed to help them. The amount you’d received for the stolen goods had been enough to care for everyone in your building ten times over. 
So no, you didn’t regret your decision.
This time, Robin doesn’t waste any time with pleasantries, gripping the back of your neck tightly and knocking you out a moment later.
****
“Who is she?”
“Her name is-”
“I know what her damn name is. I mean, who is she?”
Tim pauses, eyeing Damian with a strange expression, clearing his throat and continuing after throwing a perplexed glance at Bruce.
“...well, uh, she lives in the Narrows, has for more than a decade. She went to Gotham public high school and received her high school diploma, with no further education. She’s… pretty unremarkable, to be honest. Works in a shitty diner in the East End, earns less than minimum wage...” he trails off for a moment and shrugs. “There’s not much else to say.”
Damian clenches his jaw, arms crossed tightly over his chest.
“Her address. What is it?”
Again, Tim throws Bruce a glance, sharper this time, choosing his words wisely.
“I… don’t think that’s necessary information. It’s not a big deal, she only took a few things. And it doesn’t seem like she kept any of it. Actually, I’m kind of impressed–”
He’s cut off in an instant, Damian’s glare sharp and filled with rage.
“It does matter. She stole from us. She–” 
The green-eyed youth sucks in a sharp breath, dropping his arms to his side, flexing his hands.
“...she was right there. She was inside the manor, ten steps away from me, and I didn’t fucking notice. It took us two weeks to notice she’d been here at all!”
His words are like venom, belying the real reason he’s so worked up, and Bruce watches him with a blank expression, stepping forward after he’s calmed down slightly, placing a heavy palm on his shoulder.
“I understand your frustrations, but you can’t allow them to cloud your judgement. Don’t allow your emotions to rule your actions. While I agree we should find her, I don’t think we need to be as… extreme as you’re suggesting. She’s just a civilian - albeit a very… efficient one. Take some time, calm down, and we’ll discuss what to do from there, okay?”
Damian shrugs the hand off his shoulder, stalking out of the Batcave with a few short, clipped words thrown over his shoulder.
“Yes, Father. Of course.”
****
A very frazzled looking man is the first thing you see when you come to, temple aching terribly where the angered Robin had decked you hours earlier. Presently, the man hovering over you sighs when he sees your eyes open, though it doesn’t seem to be a sound of relief. His mouth tugs down at the corners, brows pinching together.
“Don’t.”
He presses a palm to your shoulder, keeping you flat on your back when you try to sit up. His tone is stern, flat, accentuated by the dark bags under his eyes. His shoulders sag and he loosens his hold, fingers flexing against your shoulder.
“Just… stay there. Don’t move.”
The words seem more like a plea than a demand, but you listen regardless. Even if you wanted to move, the pain rippling through your skull makes you too dizzy to sit up, let alone stand.
“...do you remember anything?” he murmurs, bright blue eyes roaming your face worriedly.
Licking your dry, cracked lips, you avoid his gaze. Would it be better to lie, you wonder? Would he know? You had a feeling he might. And you had a feeling that somehow, being honest just this once would help you a lot more than lying ever could. 
You swallow thickly, glancing back at him before answering. 
“Yes.”
He rolls his eyes, head lolling forward as he mutters.
“Fan-fucking-tastic.”
Before he can ask you another question, before you can say anything else, there’s a flurry of movement at the entrance to the room, several people storming in. The racket makes your head throb, and you feel faint and woozy as you lean back against the admittedly plump pillows.
You wonder distantly why you weren’t in a prison cell or a hospital. If you’d been in a better headspace and perhaps not concussed, you might’ve been concerned, but it was effort enough to focus on staying conscious at the moment.
“No, Damian! I have had enough! You explicitly went against my instructions– You kidnapped a civilian!”
Chancing a small peek at the arguing duo, you catch sight of little more than two blob-like shapes, the taller of the two yelling animatedly while the shorter stands stoically, staring off to the side, towards–
Towards you.
“She’s awake.”
That has the taller man falling silent for a moment. He sighs heavily, murmuring. 
“We’ll discuss this later. For now, I have to deal with your mess.”
With that, he turns and strides over to you, placing his hand on the shoulder of the young man at your bedside, a silent dismissal. He remains standing while the other two leave, staring down at you expressionlessly.
Bruce Wayne.
Bruce fucking Wayne.
…I’m so dead.
You jolt up, wincing at the pounding in your head as you blurt out.
“Mr Wayne, I–” 
He holds up a palm, silencing you.
“I don’t want to hear it.”
There’s a pause, one in which he looks down at you before sitting down with a sigh, massaging the bridge of his nose for a moment.
“I don’t care that you stole from me. Usually, I'd just file a police report and go about my day, but my son… Well, you upset him.”
He leans back in his seat, unbuttoning his blazer.
“You see, he’s a prideful boy. It’s never caused problems before, at least, not like this. I mean, involving a civilian, that is. But you seem to have struck a nerve. He’s holding quite a bit of animosity towards you.”
Bruce leans forward again, elbows resting on his thighs as he regards you with a critical eye.
“And I’ll admit, you caught me too, to a degree. You broke into my home without my notice. You were right under my nose.” He huffs a disbelieving laugh, as if the very idea of you evading him was impossible. “It’s impressive, I won’t deny it.”
A strange flutter fills your chest, something that feels oddly akin to pride. Bruce Wayne of all people was complimenting you. Or, at least, it felt like a compliment. 
“Why is he so upset?” 
You regret the question the instant it leaves your mouth. His gaze, which had been slowly warming up, turns cold and flat at that.
“...because you slipped right by him. Do you understand what a feat that is? How much you’ve wounded his pride? For you, an untrained young woman from the slums of Gotham to have fooled him, a trained assassin. Robin. You understand, don’t you? He took it as a very personal offence.”
You feel the blood drain from your face. Was this some kind of twisted punishment for stealing? Did this man, Bruce Wayne, really expect you to believe that his son, the sweetheart of Gotham’s high society, was the Robin? And an assassin to boot?
He huffs a silent laugh, brows raising as he regards the expression on your face.
“Yes, yes, I know. It’s shocking. Damian Wayne, Robin? You’ll get used to it.”
Your hands are shaking now, sweaty and white knuckled as you clutch the bedsheets, and you feel your blood pressure rising. If you weren’t careful, you’d pass out soon. Swallowing thickly, you ask the question urgently gnawing at the forefront of your mind.
“If he’s Robin, then…?”
A small smile tugs at his lips. He was handsome, in an older gentleman kind of way - tall, strong, sturdy build. Even the wrinkles and lines marring his face looked attractive. No wonder women fell over themselves in an attempt to catch his attention.
“Yes. You catch on quickly, don’t you? Well, that’s to be expected from Gotham’s own do-good Robin Hood, I suppose. Yes, I am Batman.”
A choked noise dies out in your chest. 
Of course I’d steal from Batman. Of everyone in Gotham, this is who I choose? God, why is my luck so shitty?
His admission sows a seed of unease in the pit of your stomach, and your eyes dart around the room for the first time since you’d arrived. It was large, larger than what you were used to, though the only furniture was the bed, a vanity, and a small couch near the window. The window that was locked tight, covered with solid iron burglar bars. Bars you had the sinking feeling were put there to keep you in.
You turn to him, eyes wide and pleading.
“Why are you telling me all this?” 
He stands, posture straight and assertive as he eyes you callously. “Because, unfortunately, your actions, and my son’s impulsive decision have both pushed me to make a decision I have no choice in. It means that, until we decide what to do with you, you won’t be allowed to leave–”
Evidently, his admittance to essentially abducting you is what sends your blood pressure through the roof. You pass out before he finishes his sentence, praying with the last of your fading consciousness that this was all some twisted nightmare.
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angelltheninth · 9 months
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Heyo, I literally been trying to find your account for so long (my last one got deleted and I couldn't find yours) and I'm so happy I've found it again and especially at the time when your requests are open
Would I be allowed to request Miguel ohara being absolutely smitten with reader hcs? Idk like Smitten!Miguel or something 😭
Smitten like the kitten he is.
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, kissing, head over heals, playful biting, teasing, cuddles, purring, kissing against the wall, smitten!Miguel
A/N: Two Spiderverse posts today?! Yup!
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Smitten!Miguel who ends up staring at you rather then whatever mission report he's supposed to be reading through. For him you're the centerpiece of every room, you will draw his eyes to you the moment you walking and he'll be so caught up in looking at you that Lyla's voice will make him jump from his seat.
Smitten!Miguel who will laugh at your jokes no matter what, only your jokes. It would get really awkward if no one else laughs along with him, not that he cares, he wants you to know that he finds you funny and fun to be around, that you brighten up his day,
Smitten!Miguel who always puts you on missions with him so he can flirt with you. This implies both before and after your relationship turns romantic. When you're on missions he pays very close attention to you, he wants to know the full extent of your abilities. And... also make sure he can watch your back more efficiently.
Smitten!Miguel who starts purring when you put a hand on his lower back. It's one his very sensitive areas so any stimuli there will make him into a big softie. Don't you dare say that to anyone okay? You can touch him there all you want but he would die of embarrassment if anyone else knew he purrs from such a small gesture.
Smitten!Miguel who buys you gifts when there's absolutely no reason to. He can more then afford to spoil his sweetheart so don't worry about the amount of things he buys. There are many things that are matching but unless someone knew you both they'd never know you have matching accessories. It's like a cute little secret between the two of you.
Smitten!Miguel who leans his cheek in his palm and listens to you ramble on and on without interrupting once. He could listen to your voice for hours on end and never get tired. And don't even get him started on your laughter.
Smitten!Miguel who refuses to let go of you when you're cuddling. No you can't leave him, if you need to go anywhere he will carry you there but you can't let go just yet. He knows you don't want to leave either, you're just looking for an excuse for him to hold you tighter, closer, to carry you where ever you need to go. He's onto your tactics and he doesn't mind them working.
Smitten!Miguel who loves kissing you more then he would be willing to admit. He's always the one teasing you about starting the kiss but he's always the one who refused to let it end. He chases your lips with his, pulls and bites on your bottom lip until it's swollen and then pretends that he's very, very sorry so he could kiss it better. You're also onto him, but you don't complain.
Smitten!Miguel who pins you against the wall as a joke only to be unprepared by how cute you look like that. That cuteness is downright deadly. He has to make sure no one else falls victim to it but him, its his duty as a hero. So he will do this any chance he gets until it no longer has an effect on him... which will be never if him biting his lip whenever it happens are any clue.
Smitten!Miguel who lets you cup his cheeks in your hand whenever you feel like it. It calms him down so much to be touched so softly you have no idea. When you do this where other people might see, like his office he will always lock, he doesn't want anyone teasing him for going soft, Lyla already does more then enough of that.
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heizours · 1 year
Text
YOUR FIRST
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summary. he overhears a conversation about who was your first favourite character in the game, and he grows jealous about it
tags. gn! reader, grammatical mistakes may occur
cw. none as far as i have check
feat. scaramouche, thoma, childe, xiao, dottore
< back to event m.list
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INTRO.
"Who was my first favourite character during the early days I was playing it?" You repeated the same question that your friend was asking you.
"Precisely! C'mon, I'm sure there is someone who had really caught your attention the moment they entered a quest you were playing or something like that."
They responded back, as they waited eagerly yet patiently for you to tell them, while you were busy thinking and reflecting back on who it was.
Little do you know, that they are not only one who's itching to know your big revelation.
If the doors have eyes, then the walls or perhaps the screens have ears as well.
"Well, I'd say that the first character who caught my attention and became my favourite in a short span of time is-"
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SCARAMOUCHE.
"-Childe! 
Scaramouche acts like he is not deeply affected by it and acts like it wasn't a big deal to him, but the expressions that were painted on his face betrayed the best of him.
Why are you smiling when Childe's the topic?
What did he do to make you joyous like this?
But... if he is the first character you like, is it now a liked?
There is this some sort of uneasy feeling that continues to brew and swirl inside of him the very moment your face had brighten up at the mention of the harbinger's name, and he has no idea how to stop it and why was he feeling it in the first place.
Is this another emotion that a heart can experience and learn, from time to time? What was it called again?
Ah yes, jealousy.
Scaramouche suddenly scoffs at the realization, finding it hard to believe that he would feel the bitterness of what enviousness is like sooner than he had anticipated, and the primary cause that triggered it was none other than that side character.
Childe? Cool and Captivating? Please, you haven't even seen how he could be a million times better than him.
"You mean to tell me that I'm simply getting worked up all for this? Why should I be bothered over it, when I could be a whole lot better than him? Heh"
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THOMA.
-Itto! 
Thoma rarely taste the medicine of jealousy but seeing that look on your face when you rambled on about the oni, somehow snapped him into his senses. He felt the need to grab your attention from the screen to tell you that he is here too, and maybe - just maybe you could switch your favours around. 
I'm not jealous...being one is simply irrational
Maybe — I am a little bit jealous
Alright, I am jealous...
While he would be in denial at first with the jealousy he is dealing with, he would still come to the generalization that he is indeed jealous, and if he will have to cope up with it, he would put back on his smiley facade, only this time something about his smile is a little unpleasing, that even Itto himself will not dare to breathe around him.
But, instead of continuing to bottle up his jealousy and act petty like the others, he would understand why you favour the oni and would put that first before his feelings.
Don't be fooled though, compliment him too while you're at it!
“Oh...I didn’t know they like him. It sounds very surprising coming from them, but who am I to judge? Well then, has anyone seen Itto? I bet he will be delighted to hear the news!”
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CHILDE.
“-Thoma! 
Childe laughs it off - Yes, it’s the laugh that you are thinking right now where he is this close from committing another arson. He is definitely not a second away from taking a trip to Inazuma and is on the go to plan a competition with the housekeeper, because he’s too cool to even to something like that.
I see, another challenger perhaps?
Hmph, what’s the point of challenging him if I know that I am the strongest?
Clear skies Ajax, clear skies
At this point, it is quite clear that he is turning into the embodiment of jealousy due to the amount of assurance that he is telling to himself, not because he is threatened by Thoma but because he is threatened that your favouritism about him will be the reason for his downfall.
He is threatened by the fact that you could easily evict him from your main team and replace him with someone else from another region who is just newly released and is almost a carbon copy as him, if not for the differences of their physical appearances.
It is indeed true that jealousy is a disease, that not even Ajax himself could flee from it.
“Thoma? I have heard of that name, but I also heard that I can excel ten times better at the things he could do. No- I’m not showing off, I am simply describing that I am a way better option than him, that’s it.”
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XIAO.
“-Scaramouche! 
Xiao stays the same as he is, or -  that’s what he thinks. Truth to be told, he doesn’t even realize that he is jealous, but as they say - actions speaks louder than words, and the way he is acting right now shows how he is envied by this favouritism topic.
Did I expect too much?
I don’t like this feeling...
Is this what those mortals call as jealousy?
It takes a while for him to accept that he is jealous, but after that whole feeling finally sinks in, well let’s say he is displeased by this realization because by every second, that feeling continues to sink deeper and deeper as if it’s attempting to land in the deepest depth of the ocean. 
But, like Thoma, he is another who tries to get over with it and respects why you favour that character the most. Maybe it’s because you see them in a different light that others can’t, and he understands that.
Everyone has favourites, and he can’t blame you for that because even him has one which is you but he would rather not say it.
"Hm, while I do not fawn over him, I suppose I understand why you like him in the first place. Whatever makes you happy, is simply enough for me to know why."
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DOTTORE.
- Alhaitam!
Dottore remains indifferent or so what he assures to himself, because if anyone where to see right through him, displeased is not even used enough to describe how disturb he is by that revelation.  
The Akademiya scribe is what they fawn over the most, hm?
How interesting....
Though, irritating would be the right word for it
His pride is wounded, and what makes it even more worse for him is he is a man of intelligence. So naturally, he is intimidated and threatened that the scribe who is also intelligent but not as him, could be the reason why he can’t turn the favour of you to him.
To get rid of the jealousy that he is feeling, he will dedicate most of his time (like he isn’t in the first place) inside his lab, doing things where only he knows what it is. He is one of the upper rank harbingers and dictated as the doctor for a reason, and the only way he could could get off the steam he is feeling, is to be busy.
While he is ordering around his clones and agents at the same time, any step or news that he gets from them and will be deemed as a failure, will have to face some serious issues from him, especially that Dottore is not in the mood to be in a dilly dally manner.
“Anything I need? Perhaps you can give me a little information about the scribe - take it or leave it. Either way, leaving it is not even an option in the first place.”
2K notes · View notes
stnexus · 4 months
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sip by sip…!
nanami kento x black!fem!reader
minors dni, 18+, nsfw
summary: drunk nanami is something else in bed, or maybe someone else.
cw: established relationship (married), minors dni, nsfw, smut, explicit language, nanami is drunk(previous consent), dom!nanami, sub!reader, oral (male + fem receiving), nanami and his filthy rambling, slight hints of dumbification, hints of ass eating, face fucking, fingering, light bondage, hints of spanking, bit of manhandling for reader, pet names (no use of y/n)
names used(?): doll, baby, good girl, slut, little slut
wc. 3.8k+
note: i took matters into my own hands. when i say i blacked out writing this. when i initially wrote it i was like okay let me hit the hay and go to sleep. woke up the next morning shocked at my own writing. hope you all enjoy! tags, reblogs and comments are always welcomed here!
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the flat-screen television put in ample work lighting the almost completely dark living room. the array of colors as the scenes flashed across the screen, changing just how much light flowed through the darkness. light bouncing off any surface it could find as some thriller movie played; the volume turned a bit low, but the quietness of the area made up for it. the only other light source was a tall floor lamp, with warm lighting brightening up the room just a bit from its spot behind a dark brown armchair. the light turned the off-white-colored walls a bit yellow under its illumination.
the sound of sloshing liquid in a cup could be heard as nanami had been content sitting in the armchair. his body relaxed as he maneuvered himself into manspreading and he had been like that for a few hours. his patterned tie was loose around his neck, allowing him to unbutton the first three buttons of his blue shirt. he had left his dress shoes at the front door.
this was a normal occurrence for nanami, his days were usually filled with work he had to tend to at the office, so he would find solace in your shared quiet home at night. the stress of his job being washed down with a few glasses of rum and coke. though today had been particularly stressful, leaving him with more than a few glasses of alcohol in his possession.
as you sauntered through the living room for the third time that evening, nanami watched your movements as you passed in front of the television. watching as you entered the laundry room — view clear from his seat. he adjusts himself as he watches you bend forward to grab something from the front load dryer, sitting whatever it is on top of the dryer. a flurry of towels that you had washed and decided to fold later. his hand grasped at his crotch for just a moment as he adjusted his stiffening cock against his thigh as you bent down again to make sure you hadn’t missed anything. your braids moved with every move you made, accenting your pretty brown skin.
christ, he felt like a predator stalking its prey.
“kento…!” your voice called out as he took another swig from his nth cup of the brown liquor and soda mixture.
“yes, doll?” he asked as his hand, which once adjusted himself, glided to his belt. the cool brown leather contrasts with his warmed skin. 
“do you have anything you need to wash tonight? i can just put them in the washer with the next load.”
it was like your words went in one ear and out the other. the way nanami had resorted to watching how your shirt clung to your bra-less form from behind — and how your shorts seemed to ride up a bit with every moment — was predatory.
“nanami.” your voice was quick and laced with a bit of confusion, as you still had yet to turn around. your hands are busy folding the towels before you.
“no, baby. but i need a little help. why don’t you come here for a second, huh?” his voice sounded deeper than usual. his words a bit slower as your motions slowed. you had already known he was drinking; when he had gotten home, he laid a kiss on your forehead as he grabbed his needs from the kitchen. but as he called out for you, a surge of heat seemed to run through your veins. 
turning towards him, you were met with almost the silhouette of him. it was dark, and the way he sat in the shadows of the living room was downright domineering. you watched as he moved to take yet another sip of the alcohol of his choice, drinking it down smoothly.
crossing your arms, which would prove to be an aid to him noticing your lack of bra even more, you began your short walk towards him. a few of the special-walnut stained wood floors creaking as you walked over them. nanami’s face becomes clearer with each step towards him.
he seemed as stoic as he usually is, but you knew that it was a facade. with the way his cheeks seemed to don a bit of a pink blush from his drinking, his usual uniformed blonde hair was a bit messy as he had begun to be heated by the alcohol. no doubt, his fingers had run through his hair a few times.
“what’s wrong, ken?” you questioned, out of sheer curiosity, that maybe there was something he needed help with. silly you, silly you.
“just needed a kiss, s’all.” nanami’s words slurred a bit towards the end as his brown eyes dropped to your glossed lips. not missing as you smacked them together in feigned annoyance. a small forced-off smile threatened to tug at the edges of your pretty lips.
“you made me walk all the way in here, thinking you needed help, for a kiss.” you chided with a joking tone. but the joke was done once nanami’s set his glass on a table next to the armchair. hands reached out to pull you closer by the hem of your pink shorts. his posture correcting as he directs you to stand between his legs.
“you goin’ to give me what i want?” nanami questioned you as he tilted his head towards you a bit. a pleased smirk gently graced his lips as he watched you comply, bending towards him. your lips press into his as he allows his hands to glide over the back of your thighs, grabbing just below your butt. rum and coke were evident as his tongue slipped into your mouth. a taste that you would usually grimace at, but when he was added to the mixture it was bearable.
“there, you happy now?” you spoke softly as you both pulled away — a short gasp left your mouth as he grabbed at you right where his hands were placed under your butt, pulling you over to straddle him.
“i am now,” nanami confirmed as he plucked the glass from the table, taking another sip from it. his brown eyes caught a glimpse of your face as you grimaced in reaction. 
“i don’t see how you drink that,” you confessed. “the taste just makes me want to gag my brains out.”
it was like your words were an open invitation to imagination-land. a thought of your lips wrapped around his cock flashed through his brain as all he did was hum in response to your words. the thought of you gagging as you attempted to take him fully, your tongue resting against the base of his cock. 
“you know, sweetheart, there is something else that could make me happy…” nanami confessed in his drunken stupor. a simple tilt of your head, directing him to go on, “why don’t you be a good girl and show me how you can use that pretty mouth?”
the words that were brought to the forefront of his brain spilled out with no barrier. that’s how you were sure the alcohol had been a direct influence. nanami never spoke with such intensity; he was usually a sweet and almost bashful lover. a certain level of roughness broke out of his grasp whenever he was intoxicated — a roughness that always had your stomach tightening. his question pushed an almost airy laugh from your lips.
removing yourself from his lap, you sank down to your knees in front of him. watching as he sat his glass down on the table next to the armchair once again. your hands glided softly over his tan-colored slacks, his thighs wide under the palm of your hands. with your fingers reaching the brown leather belt that secured his pants, you begin to fumble with the buckle. your acrylic-adorned hands not helping you one bit. 
“help me,” you whined a bit, only to watch him reach for his belt with one hand. undoing the buckle in record time, then unbuttoning and pushing the zipper to his pants down fully. the cloth of his black briefs visible as he pushed his pants right below his bulge. “thank you, baby,” you almost purred.
you laid a gentle kiss on his clothed cock, your hands still planted on his thighs as he let out a grunt.
“don’t play around,” nanami spoke sternly, his eyes holding a subtle hint of meanness. with an innocent laugh, you pulled the waistband of his briefs back, allowing his length to spring free — hitting against one of your cheeks in the process. grabbing at his cock as you pressed a kiss onto the leaky tip. with a huff, nanami’s hand wrapped around your wrist, making you let go of him as he wrapped his fist around his length instead, taking joy in the little look of shock you held as he tapped his leaky tip against your lips. dribbles of precum glossing your lips.
“stick that tongue out,” he demanded, to which you happily listened. allowing him a view of the pretty pink muscle, to which he tapped his cock along just as he had done to your lips. pausing before raising his hips slightly to push his length into your mouth. your lips wrapped around him like a reflex — a hum leaving as you breathe out through your nostrils. 
“shit— shit, such a good girl.” nanami groaned as you pushed yourself further, your nose brushing against his happy trail. pulling off his tie, he formed a makeshift ponytail holder for you as he tied it gently around your braids. taking note of your freshly done hair, he had no idea where to place his hands — remembering you had once stated it hurt to have new braids tugged on. his hand grabbed at his bunched up shirt for just a moment until you reached up towards him, directing him to rest his palms on the sides of your head. allowing him to move you however he liked.
“mouth’s so fuckin’ good, could cum down your throat. ‘s that what you want? want me to pump that throat full?” a sound of approval emitted from you as his cock dragged back and forth between your lips. surely your simple pool of heat in your lower stomach had converted into a wet spot in the panties tucked below your shorts.
nanami almost felt bad for a second; he was essentially face fucking his pretty wife. your voice would surely take a bit of a toll. but all qualms seemed to wash away as you moaned around him, your fingers digging into his clothed thighs as his hips picked up pace as his end neared.
it wasn’t long before nanami pushed your head down completely, and your nose pressed up against him once again as your eyes met his own. watery eyes trained on him, with your lashes clumping together a bit. the most mouth-watering moans falling from his lips as your spit collected at his base, the tip of his cock pressed down your throat and allowed ropes of his cum to fill you.
“take it. take it all, doll.” he almost whimpered as his hips stilled momentarily. traces of cum escaping from your lips. drawing his hips back, nanami began to stiffen again at the state of your pretty face. he slipped his cock out from between your lips, letting you take in a deep inhale as your lungs searched for the air that you had been unable to provide them. nanami took notice of your lips being even more plump. they were covered in your spit and his cum.
with no hesitation, he bent down towards you, pressing his lips into yours as a sort of show of appreciation. his tongue pushing into your mouth as he tasted himself on you. helping you stand to your feet, he stood as he fixed his clothing lazily, leaving them undone. guiding you to the bedroom as he walked you through the house.
pushing you onto the king-sized mattress, his hand slid under your shirt. grasping and pinching at your perked nipples. his tongue sloppy against your own as you begin to moan into his mouth.
“kento…” you gasped as he pulled his lips away from yours. “please touch me.”
“don’t rush me,” he gritted, unlike the compliance he had gotten from you. helping you pull your shirt off, he pushed off his shirt completely too. a white undershirt he wore under his blue shirt being removed in the process too. ushering you further up the bed, nanami watched as your tits bounced, leaning forward to take heated sucks at your pert nipples. then maneuvering himself, laying on his stomach between your thighs. brushing his fingertips against the smooth brown skin of your inner thighs. stopping at just the hem of your shorts.
placing a kiss over the thin material, he reached up to pull both your shorts and panties away from you simultaneously. throwing them somewhere in the room.
“pretty pussy’s fucking soaked,” nanami said as he brushed a knuckle through your wetness. then split your folds apart with his thumbs.
“ken, stop staring,” you whined in your embarrassed state as you clenched around nothing. with no arguments, you could feel his tongue run through your folds, staring from your leaky little hole to your clit. the way he had you spread allowed him to reach everything as he drew a light whimper from your lips. sitting up on your forearms, one of your hands jutted out to grab at his blond tufts. fingers weaved through the strands as he began lapping at you. your soaked cunt drooling over him as he pulled his thumbs away, grabbing at the back of your knees to push them towards your chest. pushing you back flat on your back in the process.
with his eyes closed as if he were blissed out, his tongue glided back and forth through the puffy lips of your cunt. grunting at how you taste.
“so fucking good, ‘could eat this pussy forever. wake up thinking about having this cunt in my face. all day— fuck, all day.” his words were much more expressive, much more filthy. it was rare that his words were used to describe his thoughts during intimate hours. they were usually used up on just relaying praises and asking about you the way you felt.
letting one of his arms work as a sort of spreader bar behind your knees, he freed up one of his hands. slowly pushing two of his thick fingers into you. take his last long sloppy lick at your cunt, his lips wrapped around your clit as his fingers moved at a quickened pace.
“kento, f—fuck,” you cursed out for the first time tonight. feeling his fingertips hit at that spongy spot within your inner walls.
“watch your mouth,” kento demanded as his actions continued. but it was like his words were ignored when you swore again, feeling his thumb rubbing against your clit. landing one last lick through your folds, he pulled his fingers out, taking in the sight of your cream coating them as he reached towards you. letting your legs go, nanami rested his thick fingers against your lips, your own cum smearing against them. 
“taste yourself, doll.” his voice deepened as he spoke, peering up as your mouth tugged open. allowing him to push his fingers against your tongue so you could lap at his fingers. “just like that, i love when my good girl listens.”
“why’d you stop?” your words rang through the air as a pout played at the edges of your lips. nanami only granted you a look as he pushed himself off the bed. grabbing you by your ankles to pull you towards the end of the mattress, the comforter below you getting dragged in the process. standing tall, nanami tugged his belt from the loops of his pants.
“turn around, hands behind your back, ass up.” he ordered as the metal parts of the belt buckle clinked together in his hands. dropping his pants and briefs towards the floor as he stepped out of them. doing as you were told, you clasped your fingers together behind your back — head placed on the bedding and your dark brown nipples perked up even more. your ass on full display as you moved into an arch.
hearing nanami move behind you, you let out a gasp as you felt the cool leather of his brown belt begin to wrap around your wrists, securing your hands behind your back. sinking to his knees behind you, his tongue pushed between the puffy lips of your cunt once more as he seeked out your clit, spreading you with his thumbs once more as he took harsh sucks at the vulnerable little bundle of nerves. listening as your whimpering reverberates around the bedroom as he withdraws one of his hands only to push two fingers inside you again.
his fist wrapped around his cock as a mantra of his name fell from your lips. like you were singing to him and only him. variations of ken, kento, or unfinished calls of his name circling the air. his fist moved up and down around his length as drips of precum formed at his tip, his nose sometimes brushing through your wetness as he basked in your scent.
“so fucking wet, ‘leaving a wet spot on the sheets. so damn messy.” he grunted, watching as a pretty string of arousal and his spit clung to you and dripped downward onto the bed. nanami felt animalistic as his finger pushed in knuckles deep and played at your inner walls. feeling you stretch around his fingers made his usual steady mind race. he pulled back from lapping at you, planting a kiss on one of your asscheeks as he pushed them apart with his after removing his fist from his cock. his tongue jutting out to lick at your asshole. tongue prodding at the tight ring of muscles as his filthy actions sent you spiraling. 
“kento, c—can i cum?” you stuttered out, moans becoming muffled as the bedding around you seemed to cup the lower half of your face. moving his hand to tug the sheets down and out of your way, nanami almost cooed at the way your mouth hung open.
“of course you can, doll. you don’t have to ask.” that was like an invitation to clench around his fingers, your moans surrounding you both as nanami moved his hand from your ass, simultaneously stroking himself as he pleased you. tongue in your ass, fingers pounding into you. “come on, give me what i want.”
the heat that surged through your body as you reached your peak was devastating. a dragged-out whine of his name marking the beginning of what could easily be your demise. pulling his fingers from you, nanami switched which hand tugged at himself, smearing your cum around his cock as he used his other hand to land a smack on your ass.
standing as you caught your breath, he pumped himself a few more times. he took in your current image. your back arched, a slight sheen of sweat decorating your skin, your cunt and ass glistening with your own cum and his saliva. his tie still pulling your hair into one ponytail, though it began to slip down due to movement. he spoke slowly and low. 
“could cum just from looking at you like this.”
“no, i want you, kento,” you almost fussed in a rushed out huff. 
“i know you do, baby. i’ll give you what you want.” he confirmed this as he tapped his tip against your entrance, pushing into your cunt. he almost fell apart as he felt you pulling him in. his drunkenness became obvious to him, as he felt a bit dizzy. your ass bouncing off his pelvis as he set a bruising pace. 
“i shouldn’t be fucking you like this.” he tried to ration with himself as he felt you tighten around him. your moans are messy and sweet. his drunken mind egging him on to pound into you. “you’re such a good girl. fuck, fuck— and i’m fucking you like a slut. i’m so sorry, doll.”
“ ‘s okay kento, ‘s okay…feels so good…” your voice sounded broken. your sounds become hoarse and whiny. looping his arm under your restrained arms, nanami pulled you back to his chest — the only thing stopping him from pulling you closer being your hands. his free hand wraps around your waist, pressing into your stomach. making matters much worse for you.
you had cum when he first pushed into you, and lost track of how many times he had you creaming around him. your orgasms had hurdled into a blurred mess. you weren’t sure you had ever stopped cumming, and you for sure knew he didn’t mind it. not with the way you were damn near milking him.
“you like being fucked like a little slut?” he almost choked out, his mouth pressed next to your ear. his voice made you delirious, so delirious that you almost felt like the drunk one. “i mean, shit, you're soaking me, doll. maybe i should take you like this more. hm?” 
“yeah…yeah…” you agreed, nodding your head dumbly. nanami was sure he was fucking you silly as he planted a kiss on the side of your face. letting you fall back to your original position, you felt your stomach tighten even more as you slurred out a confession, “ken, ‘m gonna cum againnn—”
his name started to sound like a plea on your tongue. the way you began to chant it as your walls clenched down around him was beyond beautiful to him. your words morphed into a silent fucked out scream as your mouth hung open. feeling you attempt to pull his cum from him in the process of your crash, he tried to ignore it. fucking you through your final orgasm. pulling out just in time, he stroked his cock once more. allowing his seed to spill over your ass — a bit dripping lower to cover your cunt. 
“there you go, baby. you did so good for me.” nanami praised you as he tugged at the belt around your wrists, letting your hands fall free as he dropped the belt onto the bed. then he worked to remove the tie from your braids. a drunken hiccup fell from his lips as he moved you further onto the bed, trying to make you comfortable before getting into bed with you.
“kento, we have to shower,” you said tiredly, still a little dazed from your numerous orgasms.
“we will, but i need you to calm down first.” he spoke as he laid your head on his bare chest. knowing you were mentally floating at the current moment. “stay with me right here for a bit. then we’ll do whatever you want.”
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887 notes · View notes
zepskies · 5 months
Note
I couldn't find if you're taking requests or not at the moment— so I'm sorry if you aren't!!! But I've been YEARNING for how Dean would react if you just blurted out, "Do you love me?" One day (after dating for a year or so)... ty! 💕
Hey, hun! What a lovely little prompt. (My requests are currently closed, but you made the cut-off lol.)
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Word Count: 650 Tags/Warnings: Fluff. That is all.
Imagine: You ask Dean for the truth.
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It was a rough hunt. Shapeshifters were not your favorite, and chasing one through a city sewer left you with plenty of bumps and bruises and shallow cuts (along with a couple that weren’t so shallow).
Back at the bunker, Dean tended to them now with calloused hands that were still somehow gentle. You sat across from him in his room—the room you shared with him, sitting on the edge of the bed you’d also shared with him for almost a year.
You watched him work methodically, with his brows knit together and eyes narrowed in concentration. His mouth was set in a plush line. You wanted to kiss the serious out of him.
But you also had to wonder.
For how gentle he was with you, how tender he could be with his affections, how seriously he seemed to take the role of your protector, your confidante, and so much more…
“Dean,” you said. Your voice was quiet, but he heard you loud and clear in the near silent room.
His gaze flicked up to yours. He was in the middle of stitching the smallest cut on your side. The deeper ones were over with, but you were still helping him by keeping your shirt lifted up.
“Hm?” he responded.
You bit your lip. You couldn’t help it. Your words came from the deepest place inside yourself.
“Do you love me?” you blurted.
In all this time, he’d never said it.
Dean seemed to realize that when he blinked wider eyes at you. His hands that either rested against your side or held the needle and thread stilled.
Then he cleared his throat, his head tilting slightly. His mouth and jaw worked, and his brows furrowed.
“Uh…” he said eloquently.
You bit your lip again as your heart started to sink. You looked away.
“It’s okay…sorry, you don’t have to…” you tried to say.
You didn’t see it, but Dean’s eyes softened. If his hands weren’t full, he’d be carding a hand through his hair.
Briefly he closed his eyes, letting out a subtle breath.
“Sweetheart,” he said. When you still didn’t want to look at him, he prodded you again, tapping your side where he held you. “Hey.”
Your eyes traveled back up to his. He cleared his throat again.
But he leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.
“Yeah. ‘Course, I do,” he said. His voice was deep and rumbling. It washed over you, made you brighten.
“Then…do you mind saying it right?” you asked. A more mischievous smile greeted him.
Despite his mild discomfort, he had to smile back, with an amused shake of his head. He gestured to his half-done stitch.
“Can this wait? I’m a little busy here,” he said.
You shook your head. Your free hand touched his cheek, letting your thumb caress across prickly stubble.
“No, it really can’t,” you said, with “apologetic” eyes.
Dean blew out another breath. He rubbed your thigh over your jeans and squeezed in affection. His eyes met yours.
“I uh... I love you,” he said.
Part of him wavered inside with nervous energy. Not because he was afraid of what you might not say, but because those words were a risk for him. In more ways than one.
You took his hand from your thigh, moving past his blood-stained fingertips to press a kiss into his palm.
“Good. Because I do too,” you replied.
Dean’s lips edged into a smirk, even with the warmth in his eyes.
“Now who’s not sayin’ it right?”
You laughed a little and nodded. You leaned in towards him, but you stopped just shy of his smiling lips.
“I love you, Dean.”
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AN: 🥹 Let me know if you liked this one! Short and sweet. ❤️
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Dean Winchester One-Shots
Dean Winchester Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Ko-Fi Me ☕
Dean W. Tag List:
@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91
@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19
@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420
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745 notes · View notes
mistydeyes · 11 months
Text
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opposite occupations
┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊
summary: all the 141 boys have different plans while on leave, each having their own idea of how to spend the time. but when they run into a lovely civilian, they realize that all the long hours, deployments, and trainings worth it.
pairing: 141 x civvie!fem!Reader
warnings: swearing, all fluff :)
a/n: I love me a good little meet cute
┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊
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price - florist
Everyone knew that the minute Price went home, he would be making the trek to his favorite cigar shop. It had been one he frequented for years, the familiar sign welcoming him home. Most shops on the street stayed the same. He liked the constancy, the familiarity.
As he rounded the street corner, he noticed a new shop had filled the unoccupied next door. The pale pink awning and rose-tinted glass were a new sight to see. "Sentiments of Carnations" he read as he walked past. He could see through the window that the shop had not yet been opened, noting the smell of fresh paint and empty displays. He wondered what grandma had put their retirement money into this florist shop.
He continued, opening the cigar shops store and smelling the musk of smoke and tobacco. "Ah John, I have your regulars set aside," the old shop owner said with a smile. "Back again for long?" he asked upon his return with a dark oak box. "Just waiting for another phone call from his majesty," he joked and slid over the usual bank notes. "I'll be seeing you," Price said as he opened the door and exited with the familiar chime of the bell.
As he embraced the warmth of the summer England weather, he pulled out one of his fresh purchases, excellently wrapped and balanced. He flipped open his lighter from his pocket and sat down to have his first smoke at home. He closed his eyes and savored the notes of espresso and hickory. As he sat in his small nirvana, he heard the florist's doors open.
He turned as he saw you, a flower behind your ear and a pink apron that perfectly matched the outside of the shop. You were not the grandma he had expected and instead were beautiful, the sun catching your lovely features. You had placed an antique table outside, along with a bucket of a colorful array of flowers adorned with a handwritten tag. You hung a small sign on the table that read, "Take one for a friend, family member, or loved one." You smiled at yourself, proud of the little display. You turned your head and noticed the mature man enjoying his smoke only a meter away from you. You picked out a scarlet carnation and walked over to the man, handing it to him.
"Here, you go," you said as his calloused fingers held the flower delicately. "A flower to brighten someone's day," you said with a smile. "Thank you, although I am not a man for flowers," he replied and extinguished his cigar. "Well, flowers can be for a variety of reasons, a friendly gesture, a gift for someone you fancy, or even something to brighten up your flat."
You ended with a sweet smile and he could feel himself melt on the spot. Something about the floral aroma emanating from the flower behind your ear along with your soft voice and pleasantries added to his current state of nirvana. You were so radiant in this light and he appreciated the kind gesture, especially upon his return home.
"No one to give a romantic gesture to, but thank you," he replied. "Well if that ever changes, my shop opens later this week! The shop's number is on the tag" you said before giving him a small wave and wink. He could hear the shop's door close as you began to set up your display and paint a mural on one of the walls. As he twisted the carnation in his hand, he knew he would be adding your shop to his routine becoming your most frequent customer.
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soap - tattoo artist
Soap looked at his phone, making sure he was in the right place. His favorite tattoo shop near his Scottish home had closed and he was taking a recommendation from Ghost.
"She's got an attitude but her work is amazing," Ghost had said before Soap's deployment. He couldn't deny the craftsmanship of her work on Ghost's arm. He marveled at the attention to detail as Ghost proudly shoved off his ornate sleeve.
Soap had an appointment for today, previously approving of the artist's rendition of his vision. A black-and-white thistle, a charm his mother had said. It was commonly known to keep its owner away from danger and bad acquaintances. Something Soap needed on the battlefield.
He pushed the maroon door open, admiring the many gold frames with what he assumed were some of the artists' work. He let out a light chuckle as he noticed a framed sketch of Ghost's sleeve. He was just about to snap a picture when a voice called out, "Hey Mohawk, this isn't a museum."
He turned around to see a woman, a gorgeous one at that. You were wearing a tank top that showed off a collage of various tattoos in different styles. You had been taking a break and relaxed, sitting behind a desk, feet propped up.
"Actually, lass, I'm here with an appointment," he said, walking over to you. "Name's John MacTavish." he finished with a cheeky smile.
"Ah MacTavish, one of Riley's military boys I'm guessing. How's that masterpiece of mine doing?" you joked, Soap didn't know what to say. Were you and Ghost a thing?
You laughed at his pause, "My tattoo, Mohawk. There's no way I'd be shagging his Halloween-looking-arse." Soap appreciated the heads up about your attitude and knew this was gonna be a fun session.
"Looks gorgeous, Sweetheart. Just like yourself," he poked back and you let out a loud laugh, almost doubling over. "Don't flatter yourself, you can go make yourself comfortable in my station over there. Looks like you're only getting a bicep tat, so I better not see your shirtless arse back there."
Soap made his way to where you motioned, sitting down in the black velvet chair. You came in a few minutes later with your sketch and supplies. You closed the scarlet curtains behind you before walking over to prep his arm.
As you sat in relative silence, Soap asked, "So what do the tattoos mean, Lass?" You finished your prep work and were working on the correct tattoo placement. "Travels from around the world. I took it upon myself to get a tattoo in every new country."
With that, you offered him a mirror so he could approve of the sketch and placement. The tattoo rested on his right bicep and he made sure to look at it at every angle and made sure to flex for your enjoyment.
"Alright, muscle man, this should only take a few hours as long as you don't pass out on me," you said and began to tattoo your next masterpiece. During the next two hours, you made conversation about the tattoos meaning, his life in Scotland, and you even shared more intimate details about your travels.
The hours flew by like minutes to Soap as you let him know you were finished. He admired the detailed flower and you handed him some care instructions with some cream. "And your buddy paid for you ahead of time, so you're all set, Mohawk" you replied and Soap got off of the chair.
"See you around, my world-class woman," he joked as he exited the door. You slightly cringed, wondering if writing your number on the tube of aftercare cream was a good idea or not.
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gaz - primary school teacher
Gaz looked at himself in his flat's mirror. He brushed a hand over his freshly cut hair and evened out his dress shirt. "Just a favor for a friend," he said to himself as he walked to catch the next tram. Two days ago, an old colleague during his days working with the metro police force had reached out to him. They called in a favor, "Kyle c'mon it's just a couple of primary students, all you need to do is give a little talk about stranger danger." Knowing he had nothing else better to do, Gaz agreed.
As he signaled the tram to stop, Gaz looked at the brown brick building reminding him of his younger days. Gaz walked in, checking in with the receptionist who directed him to the classroom where he'd be giving his talk. He was early, the school had not yet opened but he was asked to have the presentation at the beginning of class before the children's lessons. He admired the walls filled with the artwork of the students, silly attempts at drawing their families. He finally reached your classroom, noting the smiling sunflower on your opened door. He knocked softly and he saw you lift your head to greet him. If he had known you would be so beautiful, he would have not needed his friend's encouragement.
"Ah you must be Sgt. Garrick," you said, beginning to get up from your desk to greet him. You smoothed out your skirt and placed your glasses down. "It's just Kyle," he said and returned your friendly smile and warm handshake.
"Well Kyle, the children should be arriving in a few minutes. I'll get them settled and introduce you for your small talk today," you said with a grateful nod. You motioned for him to sit at your desk as you stood at your door to greet your excited second-year students. Gaz played on his phone and smiled as he heard you return the children's happy good mornings with a similar high-energy one. The students began to file in, placing their bags in their cubbies, and sitting with their friends. You heard small whispers from the children, wondering what you were doing at their teacher's desk. He let out a chuckle when he heard one boy whisper, "Is that Miss Y/N's husband? He's sitting in her chair."
Finally, with all the children in their seats, you walked to the front of the classroom and greeted your students warmly. "Good morning everyone, today we have a very special guest with us. This is our friend, Kyle, and he's here today to tell you all a little something before we start our lessons."
Kyle knew this was his cue, he rose from your desk and swapped places with you at the front of the room. "Hi everyone, today I'm going to teach you smart kids about something called 'Stranger Danger'." The children oohed in response as Kyle waved his hands in a fake menacing manner. You smiled as he was a natural. The children were attentive, writing down the information as he spoke and working together with their classmates to fill out the worksheet answers. Kyle ended his talk and asked if anyone had any questions. One child raised her hand and Kyle called on her. "Is Miss Y/N a stranger? I'm confused."
"I'm your teacher, Amelia. Teachers that you know aren't strangers," you responded and Kyle nodded in agreement. Another kid raised their hand and asked, "But you aren't Kyle's teacher, so you're a stranger to him."
Before either one of you could respond, his friend boasted, "It's because they're married, your Mum and Dad aren't strangers to each other." Both you and Kyle shared a look and he saw the soft blush rise to your face. "Ah we're just friends," he said and saved you the embarrassment.
Little did Kyle know, his email would chime that night with a thankful message from you along with your number at the bottom asking him to breakfast that weekend.
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ghost - veterinarian
Unlike most people, Ghost loved the quiet ambiance of London's rainfall. The streets were empty and peaceful as people were cozying up in their homes with a blanket. Enjoying the evening air and cold, he walked with an umbrella in one hand and a warm cup in the other. His boots resounded on the cobblestone street as he sipped his Earl Grey tea. His chest was warm from the bold citrus and bergamot liquid. This was, in his opinion, an ideal leave well spent.
The rhythmic rain fell and his walking was interrupted by a soft mewing. Simon hurried down the street to find the source of the noise. In front of a grocer's, he noticed a small cardboard box being drenched by the unrelenting rain. He placed his cup down and gently lifted the box. Underneath was a small grey cat, cuddled into a ball to experience some semblance of warmth. Simon placed his umbrella to shield the box and lifted the tiny meowing animal into his hands.
As he cradled the cat to his chest, he heard a click of heeled boots behind him. He turned his now-drenched head to notice you walking up with a bright orange umbrella adorned with cat paws. "Excuse me, Sir, but is he yours?" you asked gesturing to the ball of grey that laid meowing in his arms. "Uh he's not, I found this little fella underneath this box here."
"Ah a Good Samaritan, I see. Well, I own the veterinarian shop down the way, I can take him off your hands if you'd like and make sure this little lad gets the care he needs," you said and offered a hand to hold the kitten. You noticed his slight hesitation and said, "If you'd like, I'll give you my card so you can take the little one home when he's all better."
"That would be nice," he smiled underneath his black face mask. Simon loved animals, never being permitted to have one as a child. As you held the kitten in your arm, you handed him your umbrella. He initially tried to refuse but you insisted saying, "You're soaked, I'll be alright." You ended with a small giggle which made Ghost warmer than his now cold cup of tea.
"The least I can do is walk you back to your shop," he replied a little too quickly. He instantly realized the surprising force he had said that with and followed up with, "You know, just so you and Earl Grey can make it there in this weather.
"Earl Grey, I like that. That's my favorite order, especially on days like this." Simon moved slightly behind you, holding the umbrella to shield the three of you on your walk. The air was filled with the familiar scent of rain and the notes of your floral perfume. "I'm Dr. L/N by the way, but most people just call me, Y/N," you said as you continued on your way. "I'm Simon, a pleasure to meet you doc."
Three weeks later Simon's house was filled with all the necessities for a new cat father. As he grabbed his coat, he pulled out a water-stained business card with the vet's office address and your number written on the back. He smiled to himself as he traced his fingers over the small handwriting saying, "To Earl Grey's owner, fancy a cup of tea with me?"
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Tolerate it || Young!Coriolanus Snow X Reader
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"I sit and watch you reading with your... head low"
Truly feeling like the luckiest person alive when your former classmate and short term boyfriend asked you to marry him. Not even a year into the marriage and also a year into his presidency does the original love and admiration you felt from him start to dissipate. You can't help but feel trapped and tricked into a marriage in which he may have never loved you to begin with. Warnings: Angst, Love-Bombing, marriage, gender ambiguous reader, typical snow tags (manipulation), social isolation, alluding to sexual acts but not described, kissing Word Count: 1.5k
A/N: I was listening to Evermore after watching tbosas and Tolerate It was just SCREAMING Snow vibes. I was fidgeting with the gold charm of my pearl necklace while anxiously looking over at my husband whose nose was too deep into a book to seem to care about me. I dropped my gaze from him to scan across the table and room. Our large dining room was red with gold accent pieces I had spent the morning dusting decorating the walls. We both sat at opposite ends of the long table, ever too long to just seat two people but it seemed the man couldn't do anything at home if he was within five feet of me. A bouquet of roses I placed in a ceramic vase sat between us on the table. He loved roses, he always did, so I placed them there to brighten his day and maybe even spark up conversation between us. I polished the plates we ate on delicately and even spent the afternoon painting designs onto the back of them. I had done all this in hopes I'd receive some sort of compliment from him but alas, there was none. I sat back and reminisced on the days of our love before it was like this. Truly, when I had first married Coriolanus I had felt like my life had started a new chapter. We dated in the spring and summer time of the year after we graduated from the academy. He was top of the class and while I never matched him in intelligence he had seemingly randomly taken a liking to me. We were acquaintances at most before that and then he started talking to me any chance he could get. I would gush to my friends about his charming smile and posture and they would warn me of the rumors that went around about him. They would tell me to never get to close to him as all those who got did would end up disgraced, missing, or dead. In some masochistic way, I truly felt enthralled by his magnetic aura, danger, and the mystery that surrounded him. His bright red coat was as red as the flags that man was but the danger of it all excited me. He wasn't the nicest man out there but when he was nice to me, I felt unique. I was the exception to his coldness.
We'd go out on dates and he would shower me with sweet nothings. He would tell me how I was the light that lit up the darkness of his life. He said my beauty could turn a man to stone. I will never forget the way he kissed me on the busiest street in the capital under the dancing streetlights and how I felt like time had stopped in that moment. The way he stroked the side of my face so delicately and told me I was the only one who had ever made him feel so alive. I was holding onto every breath that man had exhaled hoping he'd inhale me further into his life. We'd spend days together and call at night. I didn't notice it at the time but in retrospect it was tactical. I spent every moment of my waking days with him and soon my life started to be built around him. Every phone call from a friend I received that spoke about him in any negative way made me push them away and out of my life even further. He was the only one I talked to. He is my world. We were two seeds that had gotten dropped into the same pot and were growing into each other.
In the fall, I fell for him harder than I ever had before. It came to a height when we were walking through a park and watched as the changing leaves fell from the trees. He held my hand in his and he held me so tight as if he was afraid I'd float away and leave him. I would never of course, my life would bend to his will. My head rested against his arm like the red coat he always wore. He'd recount to me stories of his life that would make me laugh and smile. His strikingly blonde hair blew in the wind softly and I noticed every detail of how his icy blue eyes would crinkle when he'd smile at me. He was like a beautiful painting whose artist was unknown. I remember thinking that all I would ever want to be in this life is as significant to him as he is to me. I remember the earth shattering halt my heart felt when he turned to me and dropped down to one knee and proposed. A smirk plastered his face when I said yes. He stood back up and pulled me in by the waist. One hand on my chin and the other on my lower back. The feeling of his warm, soft lips on mine and the feeling of his hair tangled between my fingers. I remember the ecstasy of the moment and the feeling that my friends were wrong, the world was wrong, no one knew Coriolanus like I knew him. He wasn't a cold, calculated, and constantly plotting man, he was just misunderstood. When he pulled away from the kiss, he whispered in my ear that he would live a thousand life times if it meant he got to love me in the next. I remembered everything.
That was the first night we spent together. He snuck me into his house and we giggled in his bedroom when he shut the door. We told each other secrets and moved the furniture so we could dance. My head was placed onto his chest and we swayed to the sound of the music playing from his grandmothers record player. We shared moments of passion in his bed, fell asleep in each others arms, and woke up tangled in bed sheets. I remember thinking he was truly mine.
We married shortly after in the beginning of December. The ceremony was lavish and beautiful. I remember the way his fingers tucked my hair behind my ear. A single tear fell from his eyes and he leaned in and kissed me. He must've been so taken aback from my beauty as I was with his. Only one of my friends attended the wedding but I was too happy that I was marrying the man of my dreams to care. The first weeks of our married life were wondrous. He had risen to power and we had moved into the absolute gargantuan mansion we live in today. He couldn't seem to keep his hands off me and I was the diamond of his eyes. He loved to show me off for the cameras and crowds. Then one day, winter came and roses don't survive.
It started off small. He didn't want to talk or cuddle in bed at night anymore. I assumed he was just tired from working so hard. Then he stopped complimenting my outfits or hair, trading them with passive aggressive comments and ways I could improve myself for him. He no longer wanted to talk at dinner. We stopped speaking at some point. He wouldn't want to hear my voice unless it was to service him. In public, he still was my adoring husband but in private, I felt like I was living with a stranger. At night, I can hear him whispering sweet nothings to the air and humming melodies and I can only hope he's dreaming about me.
These days, I haven't been sleeping, I've been trying to listen in and see if I can make out the words he is saying in his sleep but I haven't been able to make out any other words than lines about trees. While he is having his meetings all day, I am constantly doing new diets, trying new makeup, new hair, decorating the house differently, leaving loving notes on his desk, anything to try and earn a compliment from him. Even if a compliment is too much, I am begging for a word from that man. I love him. I still love him. I don't believe it is possible for me to stop loving him. I can't dare to think of loving any one else. He is so much wiser, and smarter, and more beautiful than I am and I find myself becoming the moon to his earth. I spin around him, pulled in by his orbit except, I'm not his moon. I'm just a star in his sky that is begging to be his sun. I just want a footnote in the story of his life. Even an annotation on a page of his story will be enough for me.
The sound of him placing his heavy book onto the table pulled me out of my trance and my eyes met his blue ones once more. Instantly, I am struck frozen. His eyes had such a way of pulling you in. I looked down at his lips as they pressed a small smirk and his eyes squinted a little while he picked up his fork from the table and looked at me. He examined my appearance and I sat up straighter. The thick tension in the air put me on edge. Finally, his lips parted and he spoke.
"Is that a new hair color?" he asked, keeping his eyes laser focused on me.
"It is... d- do you like it?" He looked me over again and leaned back in his chair contemplating what to say next. Then, shortly, sweetly, and sharply, he muttered the word,
"Tolerable"
~
PART TWO PART THREE
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begko · 5 months
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keep quiet. -seijoh 4
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warnings: 18+ MDNI, poly, implied masturbation, implied sex(? I think), idk how to tag so lmk if there's anything else
contains: fem reader, seijoh 4 x reader (but mostly Matsukawa x reader and Hanamaki x reader)
wc: 1.2 k
a/n: I feel like there's not enough seijoh 4 fics out there so I decided to write one myself lol. This is my first fic so if anyone likes this I'll finish this and try to post more. Just ask and I'll lyk if I can do it!
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Living in an apartment with four other boys never left your days feeling dull. Although you were all in your 20’s and supposedly more mature than your younger selves, they were still boys. 
They would each find ways to somehow piss you off, whether consciously or not. Dirty laundry in the living room, a bag of chips left open on the counter, or the loud moans of a random girl spilling through the crack in their bedroom door. These things wouldn’t typically leave you feeling so annoyed, but hearing a repeating “Yes Oikawa!” at 3 AM– the night before your abnormal psychology midterm may I add– was seriously starting to test your patience. 
Before you knew it, you found your feet gliding stomping down the hallway towards the brunette’s room, unknowingly drawing the other three to peek out from their own doors. 
“I SWEAR TO GOD TOORU. IF SHE DOESN’T SHUT UP YOU WILL NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY AGAIN.” You emphasized your threat by loudly pounding your fist on his door, then swiftly retreating back to your room, slamming your door for good measure. You put your earbuds back in and tried to focus on the music that filled your ears.
Thankfully, you eventually drifted to sleep, but the groggy feeling you had the next morning did not dissipate, even with the large coffee you had made. After fumbling with your keys for what seemed like forever, you were met with the faces of your roommates, all waiting to greet you. They each gave you a warm smile, which normally would brighten your mood a bit, but the sight of Tooru’s face made a frown appear on your face. Without a word, you disappeared into your room and threw yourself onto the bed, hoping to catch up on some sleep.
“What did I do?” Hajime immediately slapped the back of Tooru’s head in response. “You idiot! She had an exam today and you haven’t even apologized for keeping her up!” Hajime clicked his tongue in annoyance at his best friend. Tooru rubbed the back of his head to soothe the pain. “Well how do I make her forgive me? I didn’t know she had an exam!” 
Hajime merely shook his head, “Figure it out.” he said before going to check on you. As he opened your door, he found you– jeans and all – laying face-down on your bed. A groan of acknowledgement came from your figure, causing Hajime to let out a breathy laugh. “You okay?” 
“Headache.” Was all you managed to say before beckoning him to lay with you. He obliged, letting you roll over before laying on top of your half-made bed with you. He adjusted you both so your head would be comfortably caged in his arms, while you curled into his warmth.
“It’s alright, just get some sleep. I’ll stay with you, baby.” There it was. That nickname he gave you. It always put a smile on your face, this time no different, as you drifted off with your lips sleepily curled up at the corners.
While, yes, they were annoying at times, one could argue that they had a soft spot for you. They would often lay with you if they knew you wanted the company, just as Hajime was doing. When a boy would break your heart, you would find one of them waiting outside of your lecture hall with a bouquet of daffodils, ready to take you out to eat or to a club. With them, you never needed to watch cringey rom-coms while incessantly crying. They distracted you from the heartache, until it eventually melted away. And those nicknames, god, those nicknames. You were sure that they meant nothing, but the way that they locked eyes with you as they uttered ‘Princess’ or ‘Darling’ made your heart stop in ways that felt more than platonic. Sometimes, when you touched yourself in the dead of the night, you found yourself imagining them saying it, driving you to your climax. But you would never admit that to any of them. Just as they wouldn’t admit that you would sometimes let your moans get loud enough for them to hear, driving them to let their hands wander down beyond the waistbands of their boxers. They quickly chased their high, knowing that without the sweet noises of your pleasure seeping through the thin walls, they would be left unsatiated.
You awoke to the delicious smell of food wafting in from the kitchen. After stretching a bit, you opened your eyes to find Hajime no longer next to you. You followed the smell into the main area of your apartment, finding the boys sitting at the kitchen counter chatting while Tooru stood with a pink apron on. 
Your small laugh caused them all to turn their heads to wear you stood, a smile appearing on each of their faces. You walked up to them and put your hands on the counter, surveying the mess left on top of it.
“I made you your favorite! And before you say anything, I was just about to clean up.” That drew another giggle to fall from your lips. You mumbled out a ‘You better.” as Tooru wrapped his arms around your form. “I’m sorry for keeping you up last night, please forgive me?” 
“ Fine, just buy a gag for the next time you wanna bring one of them home.” The four laughed while you began to set the table.
After dinner, Tooru told you to put on a movie while the rest of them did the dishes and grabbed something sweet to snack on. You opted to take a quick shower before doing so and changed into a comfortable tank top and shorts. As you plopped down on the couch and simply chose to re-watch The Hunger Games, Hiro and Issei sat down on either side of you. Issei guided you between his legs, allowing your head to lay on his chest, as Hiro moved your legs into his lap. Hiro draped a blanket over your form, as you gave him a small smile of thankfulness. Soon after, Hajime and Tooru sat in the smaller armchairs and started the movie. 
You’ve seen this movie a million times, after all it was your favorite. But as you watched Katniss tie herself to a tree in an attempt to get some sleep, you began to grow bored. You shifted from your position, fidgeting in hopes of becoming comfortable again. “Sit still, pretty girl. I wanna know what happens next.” You heard Issei whisper into your ear. You freeze. For some reason, the mixture of the hot breath that you felt on your neck and the raspiness of his voice made your stomach form a knot. But it wasn’t until you felt Hiro’s hand start to slowly travel up the length of your leg that you finally realized what you were feeling. You felt hot, making you squirm even more. Issei’s arm snaked around your middle, holding you in place. “I said sit still. We’ll give you a reward if you’re good.” Suddenly it felt like your senses were heightened. The feeling of Issei’s arm and Hiro’s wandering hands made your breathing come to a halt. Is this a dream?
“Do you trust us, pretty girl?”
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My little winter rose (Aemond Targaryen x Little red riding hood!Reader)
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synopsis: On your way to visit your grandmother, you meet a handsome stranger that points you towards some lovely flowers. Little do you know what else that aquaintance holds in store for you...
warnings: slight dubcon, p in v sex, mention of severed body parts, afab reader
word count: 2.3k
taglist: @hopelesswritergall @urmomsgirlfriend1
(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)
A/N: Thank you to the wonderful @slytherincursebreaker for requesting this piece. I hope you like it as much as I loved writing it!<3
Dividers by @valeskafics
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For as long as you were old enough to roam around Winterfell and the surrounding woods, you heard the same thing every time. "Beware of the one-eyed beast in the woods" or some form of that sentence. You knew it by heart, saying it along every time it was spoken. Yet you had never seen a beast, no matter how often you wandered through the trees you called your second home. However, it also led to you becoming less watchful every time, thus not noticing how the so proclaimed one eyed beast very much saw you. Grew taller as you did with age until he towered over you easily, his mind darkening with thoughts as yours brightened with entirely different ideas. Going unnoticed day after day after day. Another institution set in place that you remember ever since you could think was a group of hunters going out every night. Their torches burning like the fear in their hearts, sharp swords, spears and weapons of any kind held close to their bodies that would always return marred. Sometimes you would hear rumours that people that died at an earlier date were taken by the beast while hunting for it alone.
You understood all of it, though that didn't mean you liked it. The sight of the hunters was one you hated. It was a surprise that with their viciousness the "beast didn't las out more or come closer to the village. Not even all the understanding of the human mind in the world could have saved you from hating the head of the hunters with a passion that burned even brighter than any fire ever could. Howland Reed and his relentless pursuit of trying to win over your affection by bragging about hunts long over and how well equipped he was to hunt the one-eyed.
"Red! Where are you off to?" He yells from a distance to stop you, as he trots over to you. Cursing him out in your mind in return, you oblige and wait for him to catch up with you, putting a smile on your face as you did so. Even the nickname everyone called you due to the red cloak you wore at every given time, sounded so gross from his lips you wanted to puke. "Oh, I am merely off for a visit to my grandmother." You chirp in the politest tone you could muster.
“Well, how lucky I must be to catch you then? You see, I just had some modifications done to keep you safe better.” He presents you with one of his hands and you see exactly what modifications he talked about. His nails had been filed into sharp points and seemingly coated with silver to harden them, just like claws. The pride in his face makes it hard for the polit mask to stay on yours.
“Say, Howland.” You take a deep breath in to keep it together as you speak. “I have been wondering something lately. Mayhaps you will be able to answer the question.”
“Ask me anything you wish and rest assured that the smartest man around will surely give you an answer.” He makes it so hard not to throw up right then and there.
“You are too kind. Now my question is, if you are as smart and strong and skilled in hunting as you proclaim… How come that one-eyed beast has not been slain yet?” You don´t stay to hear his answer, instead you hide a giggle behind your hand and go off on your merry way.
With the light of the early afternoon sun in the sky you have little concerns or cares about the safety of the forest. Humming the sweet tune of a song that you had often sung with your grandmother when you were younger, you skip along the way.
The deeper you get into the wood, the colder it gets and so, while you wrap yourself tighter into the red cloak, you almost run into what you at first think is a tree. As it turns out it is another human, a man and a tall one at that. His silver hair reaches down to the middle of his back, covering one of his eyes and the other you are sure shone in a pretty lavender hue once. If it did it had since dulled to a darker tone. The creases in the pale skin on his face speak volumes on how hard his life must have been. Yet when he looks down to meet your eyes, there is a charming smile set in place.
“My apologies, ser. I should have watched my steps.” You apologize before he even opens his mouth, looking up at him with the most innocent eyes he had ever seen.
“Oh no, by all means, I am the one that has to apologise. You are not the only one that should have watched where they were going.” The beautiful stranger replies in a velvety smooth voice.
"Please, I insist. If I would have stopped for a moment, I would not have run into you." You reiterate. "Alright." The stranger lifts his hands in mock surrender. "May I ask where a young maiden like you is headed? All alone in these big woods." "Well, for one I am not alone. Clearly." You go to answer with a waggish smile. His grin widens in response and his voice deepens for a moment as he speaks. "I would not be so sure that is such a good thing." His words hold a sense of warning that you swiftly ignore to tell him where you were going. "I am on my way to see my dear grandmother. She lives not far from here."
"My, what a sweet girl you are. Your grandmother can count herself lucky to have you." You hadn't even noticed so far, but when he continued speaking his voice registers almost right beside your ear. "If you want to bring her some flowers, the winter roses are blooming beautifully not too far from here in that direction."
You follow his finger with your eyes, to see that it isn't that much of a detour.
"I will be going right away. Thank you, kind stranger." You turn your head back to him.
"Oh no, I have to thank you." He murmurs. “And you may call me Aemond.”
“Aemond…” you test the way the blonds name rolls off your tongue and then let your smile widen as you give him your name.
You happily skip along the way, giving him no chance for further conversations as you only turn once more to wave him farewell.
While you busy yourself with making the most beautiful bouquet of winter roses and greenery, Aemond goes off with a new plan in mind to finally get you.
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The task takes you longer than you would have thought and so the sun stands high in the sky when you continue the way to your grandmother's house. It begins to grow dark when you arrive at the small house in the middle of the woods, so it is no wonder you find your grandmother asleep in her bed.
Gently you shake her awake by the arm. “Grandmother, are you well? I came to visit you." "My sweet girl, is it really you?" The old woman's voice sounds different than normal, though you can't quite put your fingers on the exact way it does. "It is. I brought you some flowers and a cake I baked." You set down the flowers in a vase on the bed side table and sit on the edge of the mattress beside her. "Oh, you are so good to me. Come, lay down. You came all this way and I could not possibly send you home in the darkness." Without any questions you obey her, pulling off the cape and dress until you are only left in your small clothes. Through the thin fabric the cold air makes your nipples harden and so you hurry to climb underneath the blanket.
Once in bed, you notice the long scar over the left side of her face, with the eye seemingly missing entirely. “Grandmother, what happened to your eye?” The words come out dripping with uncertainty.
“Bad men took it, but you need not worry about it. They are not able to hurt anyone anymore now.” The answer does little to quell the questions on your mind.
"My, what big hands you have, Grandmother?" You continue questioning.
"All the better to hug you." Comes the quick explanation.
"And what sharp teeth you have..." Your skin begins to prickle and the air becomes harder to breathe. Something in the way your grandmother pauses before answering, makes the hair on your neck stand up. Too late to react, as you get pinned to the mattress with surprising strength.
"All the better to eat you!" With a swoosh the blanket and who you thought was your grandmother's clothes get ripped away, to reveal Aemond sitting on top of you.
He grabs your shift and easily rips the fabric off your body, leaving you gasping, wide eyed and unable to cover yourself as he still pins your wrists above your head with one if his large, strong hands.
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The cold air, that streams in through the cracks in the window frame, has your nipples harden even further, until they stand painfully against the heat of your admirers’ chest. Instinctively you lean further into him to catch more of his warmth. Aemonds hard cock presses between your folds, twitching against your entrance, to collect some of the juices that flowed between your thighs.
“Will you be a good girl if I let you go now?” He growls lowly into your ear, eliciting a quiet but eager nod from you.
Slowly the pressure around your wrists vanishes to come down to hold you by the hips. Aemond leans down to capture your lips with his. The slow, but nonetheless passionate nipping at each other’s mouths gives the perfect way for him to express every last bit of longing and yearning that had coursed through the blond’s body ever since he first laid his eye on you. The kiss deflects your attention from the way Aemond rubs his erection against your dripping centre until he has buried himself entirely in it. His tip nearly kisses your cervix and the way your cunt adjusts to his form makes your entire nervous system burst into flames. The flames lick only higher as Aemond absolutely ravages you, rutting into you with inhumane pace and without abandon. It seems he fucks deeper into your tight channel with every thrust, that is accompanied by breathily whispered praise of how long he had waited for this moment and how well you took him. Every once in a while, when a pained whimper leaves your lungs, he kisses your forehead, rubs a few circles with his thumbs into your hipbone and shushes you in the most loving tone anyone had ever used on you beside your family. Yet Aemond doesn´t slow down. Not until you are first to reach your peak and he had made sure to shoot his seed so deep into your core it was sure to take.
Aemond slides out of your sensitive cunt and sits back to catch his breath.
“Are you alright?” he inquires short of breath.
“I am. Perhaps I will be a bit sore for the next few days.” You jested back with a raw voice.
“Ah, my apologies. I simply found myself unable to hold back any longer. I have been watching you for so long, my little winter rose. Imagining how it would be to touch you, to claim you, to finally take you as my wife in the face of the seven…” The one-eyed man sheepishly rubs his neck as he confesses to his desires.
Desires that make your face feel like it is on fire once more and your brain is entirely empty. “Is that the truth?”
“I could never lie to you about the graveness of my affections towards you.” Gently, Aemond takes one of your hands into his and presses a kiss to the palm of it.
“Oh, Aemond…” You melt at the show of affection. “I wished nothing more than to be able to be with you for the rest of our days, but I fear it is not possible. For my parents have already promised me to another.”
“Worry not. I have already taken care of that.” The blond stands up to offer his solution to the issue. A severed hand lands between your legs on the bed.
You gasp and raise your eyebrows, but before any question can claw its way out of your lungs, the sharpened silver nails catch your attention. It was Howlands hand that lay there presented to you as if it was a trophy. However, it does not disturb you. On the contrary, it makes you feel strangely appreciated, that someone would go so far as to secure you being with them.
“How dare that son of a whore go after my wife.” Aemond growls and his forehead lays into deep creases.
Careful not to kick around the severed body part, you stand up as well now, stalking over to Aemond on mildly trembling legs. When you reach him one hand goes to his shoulder for stability and the other rises to his face to run the thumb over the space between his eyebrows until it is even again.
“There is no reason to get angry about him anymore. My heart never belonged to him, but it will forever belong to you.” The two of you share one more kiss. This one much more slow, but just as emotional, to seal your future together.
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