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#genshin x dom!reader
brayneworms · 10 months
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shoot it up (straight to the heart).
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featuring. childe/reader
word count. 5.7k
content. merc!reader, drinking, kissing, masochist!childe because i am not immune to that agenda, sparring, gender neutral reader, childe is a little shit, blood, finger sucking, biting, handjobs, hair pulling, one instance of degradation (whore), light begging and light crying.
synopsis. childe has always found you fascinating; now that his stint in liyue is up and he's scheduled to return to snezhnaya, he takes the opportunity to get something from you he's wanted for months.
notes. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, i check the notes and you will be blocked.
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"Ahh, the scourge of the complacent! Fancy seeing you here on a night like tonight."
You tip your eyes up to the ceiling of the inn; his voice rings out clear as bells over the chatter and rowdiness, and maybe it's a mark of your attunement to his specific brand of irksomeness that you hear the bounce of his footsteps approach over the general cacophony of laughter and drinks slamming.
There are four empty stools at the bar. He takes the one right next to you, sliding home with a boyish grin. You scratch at your forehead with all the fatigue of a working mother-of-five, catch the bartender's eye, and silently flag down another drink.
Tartaglia whistles as you raise the cup to your lips, making you pause; mead sops against your mouth, burning against raw picked skin. "I see even the alcohol of Liyue is no match for you, scourge."
"Don't call me that," you say flatly, and knock the cup back. There isn't enough booze in this whole tavern to make this a bearable conversation, but at least you could soften the edges. If you got drunk enough, you might be able to pretend he was nothing more than a lurid ginger mosquito buzzing around your head for attention.
Attention you always seemed to grant, no matter how much you swear you'll ignore him.
"Your lovely friend at the funeral parlour told me I might find you here," Tartaglia continues talking even though you're staring at the ceiling praying for patience. "She's pretty fond of you, huh? Can't imagine why, with your prickly attitude—oh, barkeep, I'll have what they're having, please." He flashes a pearly grin at the bartender, who pours him a cup of mead.
"Did you come here just to bother me?" you grit out, staring at the dregs in your cup; it sloshes darkly amongst the dull silver, and you can see a glimmer of a reflection, your eye staring back at you.
"What an ego you sport!" Tartaglia sounds righteously offended. "I came here to drink." And as if to prove his point, he raises his cup to his lips and takes a deep gulp. You can see his pale throat flex as he swallows, the bob of bones beneath papery skin.
He coughs a little as he sets the cup back down, empty. You try not to let your surprise show on your face.
"Liyue mead has quite the burn," Tartaglia comments. "You'd think I'd be used to it after being weaned on that Snezhnyan paint-thinner, but what can I say? This place has a kick."
He leans back on his barstool, a vaguely soft, wistful look passing over his features. Then he says, "I'll certainly miss it."
The cup slips from your fingers, and you curse yourself. "You're leaving?"
Tartaglia smiles, a little sadly. "The Tsaritsa summoned me back. I'll have to take off by the end of the week."
"No shit?" Tartaglia's been posted here and bothering you for way longer than you arrived to act as a temporary guard for the Wangsheng Funeral Parlour. You weren't sure why such a place needed extra beef with security, but it paid well, and Hu Tao and Zhongli were well-meaning employers and good company, so you could hardly complain. That was the beauty of freelance, after all.
"Oh? You sound disappointed." Tartaglia leans forward, cupping his chin in his hand; his eyes find yours, gleaming in the low light. "What? Don't tell me you're going to miss me?"
You glare at him. "Do people miss the mosquitoes they swat when they're buzzing around their head?"
"You always act like I'm vermin," Tartaglia pouts. "Still, you're having a drink with me—I consider that a victory."
"One of your few," you toast, raising your cup, and Tartaglia's playful expression sullens a touch, like a cloud covering up the sun. "Oh, don't get all kicked-puppy on me. Thought you could take a little pain."
"Better than you know," Tartaglia says with a stunning return to form and a coy grin. You must be just tipsy enough to entertain him, because you don't seize a handful of his bright hair and ram his face into the bar like you briefly consider doing. There wouldn't be much in it for you beyond the satisfying crack of bone and yelp of pain. As for Tartaglia, he'd probably get off on it.
You both down another cup, and now the lines that make up the tavern are starting to blur pleasantly. There's a soft, fuzzy feeling filling you up, like you're made of cotton instead of flesh and blood and magic. A faint flush has made itself known on Tartaglia's cheekbones, lurid against his hair, illuminating the scatter of freckles across the bridge of his nose. He's surprisingly lightweight, for as hard as you known Snezhnayan liquor to be.
"Would you walk with me?" Tartaglia holds your eye like he's making a promise, though not to you. He says half the things he says like he's talking to someone else, someone you cannot see. He holds out a gloved hand, grinning. "C'mon. I want to show you something."
Your brows knit up, suspicious. "Why me?"
"I'm currently not speaking to any of my other friends," Tartaglia says haughtily. "Sneaks and liars, all of 'em. As, uh, disarming as you are, scourge, at least you're honest. So... c'mon. Humour a man's last wish."
"You're not dying," you say acidly, but you get up. Tartaglia grins, delighted, sweeping up his coat from the barstool and paying out. You follow him out of the tavern; Liyue comes alive at night, you think, the harbour glimmering with a thousand lights, the water lapping at the chalky walls. Tartaglia takes your hand as the tavern door swings shut behind you. He runs warm, and you can see freckles spiralling up his wrist, and before you can protest he's started a brisk pace away from the water.
"The hell?" you mutter, making a weak attempt at taking your arm back. "Hey. Tartaglia. Where are we going?"
"So formal," he calls over his shoulder. "You can call me Childe, you know."
"Like that's even your real name," you roll your eyes. "What difference does it make?"
"Hm. Tartaglia feels more like a title. It's the name I use when I want to intimidate, you know?" He looks over his shoulder at you, the dull blue of his eyes catching in the moonlight. "I'm not foolish enough to think I could ever intimidate you, of all people."
And when he says that, it feels like a compliment. You curse the hot prickling you can feel at the backs of your ears as he leads you through town, up near where the mountains crest. It's all rickety ladders and bridges for a while before you come to a plane nestled between two great rocks. Grass and gravel spill out beneath your feet; in the middle of the wobbly circle is a wooden training dummy with chunks carved out of it. Torches bracket the space, filling the night with shifting bronze light.
It occurs to you briefly that Childe could be luring you out here to kill you, but just as easily the notion flees. He might be Fatui, and he might be insufferable, but the two of you have no real grievances as far as you know.
Besides—you're stronger. And the both of you know it.
You sweep a flat look around the circle and raise a brow. “Homey.”
Childe giggles. “You��re always so sharp-tongued, scourge. I’ve been reflecting on my stint in Liyue in light of everything, you know? What with my leaving so soon. I remembered the first time I saw you fight.”
Your brows draw up, taken aback; this is not a sentiment he has shared with you before. He paces as he talks, starts gesticulating like he’s trying to stir up a wind, though the night is virtually breezeless. Warm and damp and encapsulating. A line of sweat encroaches under your collar. 
“Some treasure-hoarders, they made a chokepoint out in the Guili Planes to intercept traders going down the road,” he tells you, as if this is news. “Zhongli asked me to deal with them myself, ‘cause they were stopping import to the city. But as soon as I got up there to scout it out, I saw you. What you’d left, anyway. This… trail. Like this—this big patch of carnage and you just in the middle of it, going blade-to-blade with this monster of a thief twice your size. Would you believe I was almost arrogant enough to think you needed my help?” His eyes shine feverishly, the moonlight catching off dead-fish-blue. “You brought him to heel like a misbehaving dog. He gave you a bloody nose and you just—just wiped at it like it was nothing. Didn’t it hurt? Always wanted to know if it hurt.”
“It hurt,” you manage, frozen with shock. He’s getting entirely too het-up too quickly, feverish in his excitement, pale cheeks flushed wine-red, and he moves closer as he waves his hands, eyes locked onto you like he’s a dog and you’re his master. It makes your blood feel too thick and too hot in your veins. 
“Thought so,” he breathes. “Thought it must’ve. It kinda… it sings, though. Doesn’t it?”
Stuck, you nod, though you only half understand what he’s talking about. 
Apparently satiated, Childe rubs the back of his neck bashfully. "Hah, sorry. You really get me talking, scourge."
"Don't give me the credit," you mumble. "It's one of your natural talents."
"Wanna see another one of my natural talents?" Childe grins; at your sharp look, he raises his hands placatingly, smile stretching ever wider. "I meant fighting, of course. C'mon. Truthfully, I've been thinking about it ever since that day. Fighting you."
He says that—fighting you—with the same sort of soft reverence one might reserve for making love or worshipping a deity. Like it's the centre of his world, the cell his heart was born from. You wonder how long it's been since Childe's days were anything but fighting, then reckon that that's probably a deliberate choice.
When he holds out a blunt wooden training staff out to you, his hands are perfectly steady. You heft it in your grip, getting used to the weight and balance. You're more accustomed to knives and swords, and small blades you can slip into your boot or belts, but you're not unfamiliar with polearms, exactly.
"Feel good?"
You jump; Childe's pressed closer to you in the time it took to examine your new weapon, and his words are accompanied with a brush of warm air across the back of your ear. "It's okay."
"Good! I want you at top form for this." He slopes off, twirling his own staff between gloved fingers obnoxiously. It makes a faint whistling sound against the warm night air. "Think you're ready?"
"Ready?" You can't help but sneer. "I don't need to be ready to fight a pest. I just do it."
Childe's grin is so wide that the flushed apples of his cheeks turn pointy. "Alright, killer. I've been looking forward to this for a while, and, y'know, I dunno when the next time is I'll meet someone as interesting as you... so don't disappoint me, yeah?"
The first crack of your staffs together sings.
It's an old melody, one you're attuned to, one you think you were born with. Impact shivers up your bones, disturbs the skin in a railroad of gooseflesh, sets your teeth on edge. There's the anticipation, the moment right before the new sensation turns uncomfortable or painful, like pressing down on a bruise, the moment before it starts hurting. The staffs gnash together like wooden teeth.
"You're quick," Childe says approvingly as you draw your arm back to your side, circling him in short steps. His eyes follow the lines of your body like he's trying to set you alight. You're not sure why you're doing this, actually—your relationship with Childe has been nothing but tepid the whole time he's been stinted in Liyue. From your end, anyways. He tends to sort of follow you around like a lost puppy when he has free time. No matter how many times you smack him and send him reeling, he always comes back with a bone clamped between his teeth, looking for fun.
A drink, a fuck. A fight. Maybe it's all sort of the same to him.
Your fight is a dance; Childe is undeniably skilled, and polearms aren't your first choice of weapon, so it's a fairly even fight despite your strength. Several times he moves far too quickly for you to comprehend—like you blink and he's shifted with the moonlight, gone from in front to behind you in a second. Laughing, poking, teasing until your blood is boiling despite the cold.
When you finally land a hit on him, it's sweet. Your staff cracks across his jaw with all the force of his annoyance to you over the last months, and Childe barely has time to widen his eyes before he crashes to the dirt. He lets out a pained grunt as he plants into the earth, and just as you're opening your mouth to gloat—
"Again."
It cracks into the night air like the crash of your staff against his jaw, pursed between wheezing breaths. His voice sings like cut piano strings, dissonant against what is happening. You stand over him, breathing hard, brow cinched as he sprawls in the dirt.
He's got chalky soil all over his pretty light uniform. He doesn't seem to care. Dull blue eyes blink up at you, round as pennies; you can see an angry welt raising on his jaw where your blow had made contact, flaring up scarlet against the pale skin. No doubt it will have flowered into a nasty bruise tomorrow, something the colour of overripe lavender melon.
But Childe grins.
You stumble back, frowning hard, and Childe makes a noise at the back of his throat as he sees you retreat. He scrambles messily to his feet, brushing dirt carelessly from his clothes.
"What?"
Childe cradles his jaw with a hiss. "You pack a punch. But I'm not done yet."
"You said again." You eye him warily, arms still not raised. "What did you..."
He huffs a laugh with a return of that boyish grin. "Ah, caught that, did you? I guess you could say I have a certain admiration for people who can land a hit on me. It's impressive. You're impressive."
Before you can decide whether he's swelteringly egotistical or just a pervert who gets off on pain, Childe lunges, swinging his sparring spear overhead; you shriek and parry it last-minute, your grip faltering enough that the wooden shafts collide with a harsh thwack; you don't fend the blow off completely thanks to your shoddy reaction time, but you manage to avoid getting struck in the head.
"Asshole," you grit out, stumbling left a few paces to get your bearings again; Childe circles you, twirling his spear between deft fingers with a sharp grin.
"I sensed your attention wandering," he shrugs. "You think you can hit me again?"
Your chin juts out, indignant. "Yeah. I'm stronger."
Beneath his lurid red hair, Childe's cheeks colour faintly. "Prove it, killer. Lemme feel it. Hit me—"
And he lunges, spear cracking through the air; this time, you're ready for it, seeing the telltale twitches of his body getting into formation before the pounce. You dodge his first hit, sending the tip of his spear sinking into the dirt, and whilst he's distracted with pulling it out you sweep the shaft of your own against the back of his knees. He buckles with a grunt, staggering, and you use his surprise to barrel your full body weight into his side.
He slips into the dirt, head thudding against the packed earth with a dull thud, and in your momentum you follow. By the time he's blinked the stars out of his eyes, your dagger is pressed up against his throat, nestled amongst the pale skin.
He breathes fast and sharp, a distinct contrast to his general collectedness. Your thighs cage his hips, and even from here you can feel his strength; his skin is shot through with sinew and iron. He could reach up, tussle, throw you off, put up a good fight. But he doesn't. He lays limp like a puppet with its strings cut, looking up at you with big, starry eyes—waiting for you to make the next move.
You come to a rather grim hypothesis.
The blunt tip of the dagger encroaches his skin, pushing in hard enough for blood to bead around it. Childe draws in a ragged gasp.
"Gonna kill me?" His tongue flicks out to wet his bottom lip. He says that like it's an act of worship, like carving his throat out with a cinquedea is akin to leaving incense at a shrine for a far-flung god. Like his blood would be spattered amongst the stars if only you spilled it. Your breath catches; you hadn't been ready for the rush of power Childe's perversion would give you. You can feel it nestling under your skin like a heartbeat.
"I think you could, if you wanted," Childe whispers, and then he shudders at the thought, pretty eyes fluttering closed. He looks like he isn't sparing two thoughts to your hand holding a knife to his throat; skin breaks, and blood makes a thin rivulet down his pale skin. "Mm. Maybe I'd—I'd even let you. You could ask real nice."
"You're hardly in a position to be making demands," you murmur, feeling quite frozen. "Why don't you just be quiet for once?"
At once, Childe falls silent.
His bottom lip has split; probably why he was tonguing at it earlier. Now, with nothing to stop it, blood makes a languid trail down the slope of his chin. With your free hand, with the curiosity of a child petting a stray animal for the first time, you swipe at the trail with the pad of your thumb. You track it up to the seam, the cut, the split, press down hard until the surrounding skin of his lip turns white. You can feel the short, hot shocks of his quick breath against the skin of your nail.
The flash of his tongue surprises you, sliding over the bloody pad of your thumb, cleaning up his mess. A dog licking at its own wounds. Your breath catches, but you've never known when you're wading too deep. It's your one weakness as a fighter. You always think you can take more than you can.
So you press deeper. Your thumb sinks into his mouth up to the knuckle, and Childe lets out a faint groan. There's the ghostly scrape of teeth before his lips close over the skin, tongue swirling over the mess of blood and chalky dirt on the blunt tip of the digit.
Somewhere in the back of your head, you register faintly that this is not normal. Your interactions with Childe have been limited, so far, to snarky deadpans, irritable smacks, and the occasional drink. If you have occasionally caught his eyes lingering on the collar of your shirt, or following you when you enter a room soaked in hilichurl gore, you've made no comment. You'd assumed it would fizzle out, anyway. He's Fatui. They're hardly known for staying in one place a significant portion of time—they're dark-dressed ravens, flocking from place to place and bringing suspicion and misery for a while before taking to the sky again.
But Childe is not scoring the horizon. He's in the dirt with your finger in his mouth, and it looks like he's right at home there.
He releases you with a wet pop. Saliva and blood make a diluted trail down to his chin, and his eyes have peeled open again—heavy and half-lidded, blue slate stone, scoring deep into you. Your body feels hot and too full.
He cracks a lazy smile. "Never seen you speechless before, scourge. Does this mean I win?"
And something snaps.
In a fluid movement, you grab both of his wrists and pin them to the ground beside his head. Childe grunts a sound of surprise as your fingers tighten on his wrists, back instinctively arching from the sudden pressure; one of his legs slips in the earth and knocks against your ankle. He blinks up at you, eyes practically bioluminescent in the night.
"You don't look much like a winner," you snarl.
"Depends on your position."
"You're the Tsaritsa's bitch," you spit. "And if not hers, Zhongli's, or was it Signora who was the last one to get one up on you? Really, you've been failing upwards so much lately it's getting hard to keep count."
Childe's eyes narrow, the first glimmer of defiance sparking in the blue. For the first time you feel him throw his weight behind his halfhearted squirming—he raises his hips to try and buck you off, tugs at your grip on his wrists with renewed vigour. His fighting back shouldn't spark something in you—it shouldn't—but you can feel yourself growing excited.
The thing is, you sort of like killing. People don't get into your line of work if they don't. There's something about holding something down and winning through nothing but sheer strength that makes you feel strong, like you've earned a place on this earth. Watching Childe's jaw tick in frustration the longer he goes without unseating you is making all sorts of dangerous ideas brew in your head.
It's just—maybe it's the drink, or the fight, but the world is still pleasantly pretty and still. And Childe looks sort of gorgeous with his brow all scrunched up like that, the hint of icy anger in his eyes, the gritted teeth. His neck is strained in such a way that bares every jut and bone to you, and you can see his pulse fluttering away under the taut skin, the bob of his adam's apple.
You want to bite it.
Some sort of magnetism pulls you down, nosing at the skin of his neck. Childe grunts, half-frustrated and half-confused when he feels your lips brush over his throat. He smells like salt and mead and copper, labour smells, but his skin here is smooth like it's never seen a day of wear.
"What're you—" Childe huffs out, but his mouth drops open with a choked noise when you seal your teeth in a ring over his neck and bite down. Not quite enough to hurt, you don't think, just enough to satisfy the weird part of you that's sparking for the urge to maim. "Archons, scourge."
Oh dear. His voice has gone all strangled and weak. You dare to release one of his wrists to cup the back of his neck, holding him still, brushing the feathery down of hair on his nape. Automatically, his free hand flies for you, but it stops short, hovering as if unsure.
You can almost feel him weighing his choices in his mind. He has a hand free, and you're not even looking at him. Even if he can't beat you outright, he'd do alright with the element of surprise. He could definitely knock you spinning and flee before you get your bearings.
You wait. Count the fast thuds of Childe's pulse against his neck. The muscles in his free arm go limp, and he wraps it around your waist to pull you closer.
Figuring you're done pretending, you skim your lips up his neck and jaw before catching his mouth in a hard, bruising kiss. Childe moans, softly, into your mouth, hand clenching hard over the fabric of your waist before sliding under. His fingers span out over the small of your back, worn leather and warm flesh, and you shudder despite yourself.
His lips are chapped, and you can taste blood still oozing from the split in the plush lower one. "Someone's sensitive," you gloat, and he huffs. "Not had time to get laid here?"
"What can I say?" Childe's breezy tone would be more believable it it wasn't coming out so strangled. "Been a busy guy. Don't seem to have time for m-many... simple pleasures."
"You always seemed to find time to annoy me, though," you say darkly.
"Less of a luxury, more of a need," Childe breathes. "You make just the most interesting faces when you're irritated."
"Yeah? That get you all wet?"
Childe laughs weakly. "Scourge, please. I'm but a blushing virgin. You'll burn my poor ears off."
You shoot an obvious glance down to the tent straining against Childe's slacks. "I can well believe that."
He squirms in embarrassment, the tips of his ears lighting up scarlet. His eyes blink up at you, the usual lusterless blue fleeing in wake of reflecting the thousands of stars above you, and he seems to glow from the inside out, for a moment. The coppery blood on his face catches the moonlight.
A tongue flicks out to wet his lips, a dog wetting its snout. "Won't you take pity, scourge?" he pleads. "You got me well and truly at your mercy. You win. So..."
Before you can stop to consider the ramifications of your actions, your free hand has already scrambled to his belt buckle. Childe's breath catches, eyes widening as he registers your movements as the brass clinks in the silence. For a moment there's nothing but the hasty shuffling of clothing as you shuck Childe's dirt-streaked trousers down his thighs, his hips lifting to assist. There's a small furrow between his brows, his cheeks alight with a blush that makes his freckles sing against his skin.
The skin of his thighs catches, milk-white in the moonlight. Even here, scars have made their home, pink or bruise-dark, crisscrossing over the flesh in railroads. You get his trousers down past his knees before you stop bothering; he's left in dark underclothes, erection so stiff it's pulling the thin fabric taut, and the slit in his shirt that you've always found obscene betrays the quick, shallow bursts of his breath.
His throat flexes when he swallows. "Are you really going to—mmmgh!"
Childe sputters to a halt with a rather embarrassing high-pitched noise as you cup him through his boxers. You roll your palm experimentally over the tip of the tent, and his eyes flutter shut, rolling back against his skull with a pretty, desperate noise. This side of him is so foreign, but so familiar, so obvious, you wonder why you didn't think of it before.
"Ah, fuck," Childe swears, already sounding breathless. With how obvious he's always been, the lazy slide of his eyes, you'd assumed he had at least some experience—but maybe your teasing just a moment ago was a little more on the nose than you'd anticipated. He's unusually sensitive. "Scourge, I don't—"
"Stop calling me that," you mutter, pulling the fabric of his underwear till it strains against his cock, and he swallows back a gasp, spine arching against the dirt. "Did you want something?"
"You're so cruel," he whines. "Y/n, Archons, please—"
"Alright, alright, you big baby," you sigh, shedding his soaked underwear. Childe shudders, thighs tightening under you as he hits the cold air. The strain of his arousal and the chafing fabric is obvious; pre drips eagerly from the reddish tip, and he fits neatly into your palm when you swipe over the leaking hands before wrapping your fingers around him. Childe jolts into the touch, cursing under his breath, and as you start to jerk him off his lashes flutter. His blue eyes roll to the heavens and his head thumps against the earth with a long, shaky moan.
The night fills with noise, somewhere between what you find obscene and what sends heat rushing between your own legs as your fist pumps lazily up his length. Childe is more receptive than you would've put money on, gasping and swearing, hiccuping small, wounded noises in the back of his throat. His brow is scrunched, lips slack and wet with saliva, eyes screwed shut. His hips jump like they have a brain of their own.
You squeeze, prompting a panicked noise; Childe's eyes fly open and find your sly smile. "You look pretty," you tell him. Childe goes scarlet.
"W-wha?" he dredges up intelligently, frowning. "Why'd you—what?"
You find it funny that you've literally got your hand around his cock, but calling him pretty is apparently what crosses the line in flustering him. You cock your head, grinning.
"You don't think?" you coo. "I think you're lovely like this. I never realised how attractive you'd be once you shut your mouth. Maybe I should beat you in a fight more often."
"W-wouldn't complain," Childe pants, still alight with a feverish blush.
"I'm sure," you say noncommitally. "You fucking whore."
Childe moans, loud and shameless, and his free hand flails to scratch his nails down his own skin. "D-don't stop, fuck, don't stop—"
You stare at the scarlet railroads left on the pale skin of his stomach, and with your free hand yank up his shirt to his chest. Childe lets out a startled sound, looking at you with round, surprised eyes. His torso is littered with scars, raised and pale and dark against freckled skin. He is pretty. You love the marks of his exertions and pains, a history of his losses mapped out over his body. One of his nipple has a healed slash running right through it; when you reach up and tweak it, Childe shudders.
"Anyone would think you like losing," you murmur.
Childe looks at you weakly, crying out when your hand resumes at a faster pace. "Like it when—hnn—when it's real. I like it when they don't hold back. 'S why I'm just—hah!—e-enamoured with you, I guess."
"'Cause I'm ruthless?" you quip.
Childe flutters his lashes. "Nice enough to let me come, I hope," he says sweetly, and it makes your cheeks burn momentarily with embarrassment, the brazenness of his statement. "I'm not above begging."
"I liked you better when you were quiet," you mutter, and swipe your thumb hard over the slit. Childe yelps, muscles melting like butter, and when you start rubbing cruelly like you've found some sort of button his face flames, his mouth drops open, and he lets out a wailing noise, legs thrashing.
"Archons," he keens, but with your free hand you seize and handful of his hair and pull, hard.
"No Archons," you snarl. "Just me."
Tears prick at the corners of Childe's eyes as he rolls his hips to meet your unrelenting strokes, whimpering. "Y-yes, yeah, just you, just you, do that again."
You oblige, dig your fingers into the red hair so deep your nails scrape his scalp, and tug. The tears spill over Childe's lashline as he chokes on the moan that bursts from him at the movement.
"Keep it there," he begs, thighs shaking. "Pleasepleaseplease—"
"You close?" you ask innocently. "Already?"
There's no more pretence; the fine line of pleasure and pain seems to have wrought Childe down to only basic instincts, as his hips roll against your hand as you fist his length rough and quick, head tipped right back against the ground, exposing the heaving column of his throat. The toned concave of his stomach flexes with each punched-out breath, the scars coiling and elongating respectively.
"Please," Childe sobs in answer. "I'll be good, be real good, I'm close..."
You surge forward, digging your face into Childe's neck as you speed up your pace, and sink your teeth into the soft skin at the junction of his neck and shoulder. Hard enough for blood to bubble under your lips, hard enough for Childe to let out a strangled scream as he comes all over your hand, spilling over your fingers and his stomach in pearly arcs.
He's panting when you pull back, winces as you dislodge your teeth and unwind your fingers from his hair. He touches the bite mark with a wince and hiss, examining the blood on his fingers with light interest. It really shouldn't surprise or arouse you nearly as much when he dips them into his mouth and licks them clean.
"Degenerate," you tell him. Childe smiles crookedly, the flush on his face still stark red.
"There's this old saying about a pot and a kettle," he says, voice still weak and shaky.
The bite mark is leaking. As he reaches for you, you get the fleeting thought that it will leave another scar to add to his masses, another permanent trophy of another loss.
A loss to you.
And you smile.
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dvlboy · 3 months
Text
after exams | 18+
"one more baby.. isn't this what you wanted?" your warm hands grabbed his hips, thumbs on his v-line before you pulled him in closer to his fate.
"no mooreeee, no moreeee.. m'sorry.." he was on your bed, sweaty, flushed, and grasping. he had an arm over his face while he tossed and turned, biting his arm to prevent noise.
he could feel you pulse inside of him while you clawed him towards you, pushing his sweaty hair delicately. you pulled ontop of him, a predatory grin leaking itself onto your lips at his helpless state. he couldn't even look at you, knowing that he dug his own grave.
he could feel your finger trace his stomach, delicately scraping the skin. "all bark and no bite, huh?" your hand traced lower and lower, and he braced his breath, feeling you reach his pelvis. it rested there, teasing him by slowly going closer to his spent, overstimulated cock.
"remember when you teased me while i was studying? all those slow touches, all those looks?" your hand grabbed his cock, feigning away the frantic arms that attempted to stop you.
"m'sorry! jus' missed you.. n'moree..." he had tears pooling in his eyes, desperation rising in his voice. he couldn't take another round, he might die! you're too big-- it feels like he can't breathe! and you're too mean, making him ride you until his knees buckled and his body became putty, in the names of "proving how much he wanted it."
the condom box you bought for today had long since gone dry, and the fresh bottle of lube is starting to run dry. soiled condoms littered your bed and your cum was being plugged by your dick.
"you still miss me now?" that same teasing tone rose again, "cause i missed my baby too.." a small smile crept up on his face, hearing the sincerity in your voice.
"i miss him so much, that i think i'll show him again, and again, and again until i make up for the weeks of exams.. and i don't think i can wait for more lube or condoms." his face quickly grew pale, protesting noises leaving his mouth as you buried yourself back inside of him
GOJO, GETOU, HINATA, OIKAWA, SAKUSA, MAMMON, DIAVOLO, KAEYA, KAVEH, YUJI, al haitham, atsumu, kuroo, sukuna + ur favourites
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m getting back into writing, hopefully make a few other thinsg n experiment a bit in writing styles, also kind of inspired by the layout of mr cool n sexy @maroonsoul
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infrunamie · 4 months
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prof!reader x needy afab!men.
“since your already a wreck from my cock between your thighs,” you press a hand on his stomach feeling your bulge. “imagine how id feel inside,”
“p–please inside, stretch me full,” his cunt throbbed under your cock, drooling for you to touch his womb. “so wet n’ ready for you,”
“i know baby, i know,” you kiss his forehead while using both hands to press his thighs harder on you. “but class is starting soon.”
“why’re you– fuck– why’re doing this t’me, been so g-good for you.” his brows furrow as he glares at you, tears pricking his waterline. his hands grab the edge of your desk showing his chest off to you. and you indulge, leaning down to suck his nipple.
“gonna cum soon, please, inside,” he wailed clenching his thighs, “shoot your cum in-inside,” he spread his legs as an attempt to coax you.
his core tightened around nothing as slick dribbled down. fuck it.
you quickly but with precision thrusted into him, melting when his velvety walls embraced you. “haa…oh shit baby, so so good,” you relaxed into a sturdy thrusting pace, and the man under you wailed. grasping onto your shoulders for support.
“doors don’t open till i say so,” you leaned down to his ear, “ill be sure to give you exactly what you’ve been waiting so patiently for.”
kaveh, kaeya, tighnari, tartaglia, keigo, eren, naruto, itadori, isagi, satoru, your faves
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sh1-n0bu · 13 days
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⇝ 𝓢𝓽𝓾𝓭𝔂 𝓸𝓯 𝓪 𝓭𝓻𝓪𝓰𝓸𝓷 𝓪𝓷𝓪𝓽𝓸𝓶𝔂 ⇜
characters: sub!dragons x dom!gn!reader
warnings: fluff, crack, slight angst, them being in heat, dragon anatomy so 2 cocks huehuehue, reader is very very very curious abt dragon anatomy, shy bois<33, squirting, handjob, overstimulation, dacryphilia, praise, eating out, finger in vent so fingering????
notes: i was thinking over different dragon anatomies but then my mind suddenly went what if?????? inspired by @teeth-farie’s sub leviathan fic. gradient divider by @/benkeibear. im dying waiting for wuthering waves to release also jiyan might be ooc as it is written before wuwa’s release. you can think of any dragons you know or want, these were the only ones i could remember😔
word count: 5.5k
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it’s not an everyday normal thing to have a dragon as a lover. more so if said dragon is seen as a high ranking being and is constantly busy while also being basically untouchable in human terms. hell, not even their fellow draconic kin aren’t able to spend time with them, much less make them put down their mask of indifference and cold stoicism.
a certain title with heavy burden, suppression of one's emotions and feelings rest atop their head, constantly forcing them to make choices based on their people and their wishes, yet never for themselves. always living up to their title and position in the society but never simply as themselves. never giving them a moment of respite, comfort, feeling of kinship or even a friend to share a cup of tea or a glass of pear blossom wine with. always a title, someone to be worshipped and admired from afar but never to get close to or to even dare touch.
except for you, you sweet human who stumbled your way into their life. quite literally. your first meeting with your draconic lover was of you stumbling down the stairs and landing in front of their feet ungracefully while they tried their best to stifle a laughter that was bubbling in their chest. who were you and where have you suddenly ungraciously fell down in front of them in a heap of mess and a single thumbs up accompanied by a muffled "i'm okay!"?
you had the body anatomy of a human. you looked like a human. you sounded like a human. but were you truly one though?
"now who are you that have discourteously decided to fall in front of me like a chipmunk would out of a tree?" they ask, doing their best to stop themselves from doubling over in a heap of a laughing mess as they reach a hand out to help you get up. their resistance only proves futile as a quiet chuckle escapes their mouth — to which they had to bite down on their tongue to not turn it into a laugh — when they see the absolute mess you have made out of yourself. hair a mess, sticking out everywhere like a bird's nest with your clothes covered in slight dirt and grime alongside a few tears here and there considering you quite literally fell down the stairs in front of them.
reaching a hand out, they help you out in taking out some stray leaves that had stuck into your hair during your tumble. all the while, you try to dust off your clothes as quickly as possible so you could apologize and thank them.
"yeah yeah, but chipmunks are cute, aren't they?" you clarify with a cheeky grin as you finally stand upright to take in the visage of your helper and the same person you just made a fool out of yourself in front of. not that you minded it that much.
oh. oh well stars have mercy, aren't they the moist celestial man you have ever laid eyes upon. it was like looking on a painting in front of you. the sunlight right behind their head, creating a halo like effect as the man smiles at you with nothing but kindness and slight amusement twinkling about in their eyes. you were pretty sure you looked like a fool right now in front of them, jaw slack as you stared at their face. for a second, the dragon was a bit concerned. did you perhaps somehow unhinged your jaw when tumbling down the stairs? but you were talking just normally a few seconds ago. or... was it because you recognized him that you had suddenly gone quiet?
he hoped not. he liked your little charismatic words and choices of being well... in a more gentler terms, weird. but in a very cute way. just like a chipmunk.
“are you—“
“god damn!! even your voice is hot” your sudden words take them back by surprise, causing them to go quiet. did you just—?
"[NAAMMMEEE]!!! WHEN I CATCH YOU, YOU'RE NOT GETTING OUT OF YOUR OFFICE UNTIL I SAY SO!!" a third voice calls out, seemingly calling out for you. upon hearing the voice screech out your name, threatening you with paperwork, he could see you freeze up. visibly paling — if he squinted hard enough, the dragon could swear that he saw your ghost float out in a comical way — eyes widening, you glance back to the top of the stairs you came tumbling down from. just then, another person comes running in, standing atop the the stairs you just tumbled down from.
“YOU!!” the person points a finger in your direction, seemingly your boss or a coworker perhaps. but considering how you were literally shaking in your boots, this person was definitely your boss or something along those lines…
“it was nice meeting you and all, i gotta dash. i don’t wanna deal with paperwork today or ever. see ya’ around, pretty!” you manage to say in a quick heap of mess, giving the dragon a single pat on his shoulder before making a mad dash to somewhere. the dragon could only hope that you won’t get caught by your superior. though, that wasn’t the only thing on his mind.
“pretty…” you called him pretty.
it wasn’t as if the dragon never received compliments before. he did, actually. many times and so much to the point it had grown dull to him. the affirmations of his prowess or how handsome he looked nor the elegant way he dressed — they were all common to him. from his subordinates to a civilian he would pass by on the street would stop and fawn at his otherworldly visage.
yet why was it that your single compliment the one that had continued to linger on his mind? it wasn’t even the sophisticated words the poets sing nor the heartfelt way the children would cheerfully say. no, it was just how you would call a fellow human “pretty”.
a fellow being…
was that why it was so different? why it left such a deep impression on him that the dragon couldn’t help but flush as he thought about how you referred to him. not as something to revere, not as a title to bow to or a powerful being that you should walk on eggshell around. just a fellow living being with their own feelings and emotions. like… a fellow human being.
the dragon found himself unconsciously recalling the moment over and over again since then. it would come to him during meetings, during a paperwork, during a simple moment of respite and recollection.
he would catch a glimpse of a tiny chipmunk, squeaking as the little furry creature jumps between trees, and he would be reminded of you. he would see stray leaves falling from the tree and he would be reminded of you. he could just be walking around and before he knew it, he was back at the place where you two first met. the stairs you’ve stumbled down from, the underground he was standing at, the railings separating the sidewalk from the pond nearby.
“pretty” the dragon would whisper to himself, the word falling from his mouth without him knowing as he looks up at the stairs. secretly, he would hope that you you stumble down the stairs yet again. “like a chipmunk would out of a tree”.
“hey! it’s you, pretty!” as if sensing his weird newfound feeling of longing, the heavens have decided to grace his lonely soul with your lively presence once more. turning around, he could see you running over to him from the opposite end of the stairs. the dragon couldn’t help but chuckle softly, a deep and low rumbling sound coming from his chest.
“pity. i was actually waiting for you to tumble down the stairs again” he says once you were close enough, all of his attention shifting to you now. he could see you much more clearly now. there was no rush of you running away from your duties, no superior chasing you around threatening you with paperwork, nor the tumbling down the stairs. no. this time, it was just you and him. and if he strained his ears enough, he could hear the squeaks of a few chipmunks in the nearby trees.
you looked beautiful. charismatic smile and lively eyes shining up at him with a bright and bubbly personality that seemed to drag him into your depths, making him want to spend every waking moment beside you.
“oh boo-hoo. how about you tumble down the stairs next time, huh?” you groan, eyes rolling with a huff of a laughter. not even a three times of meeting and you were already joking with the dragon as if he was an old friend of yours that you met again after a long time. is this what it means to have a friend? to share laughter and jokes with teasing jabs at one another. harmless humor thrown about as you two stroll around the streets with little to no attention to your surroundings or the people staring, pointing, whispering about you two.
no. it was just the two of you. the dragon and the charismatic human.
just him and you. alongside the few squeaks of a distant chipmunks jumping about a few trees.
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much time had passed since your first encounter. almost every day, at every hour, the city could see you alongside the dragon, hanging around, chattering and even gossiping as the two of you just simply enjoyed life. if one was missing, you could simply find the other around the corner.
at first it was almost sacrilegious to the people. what do you mean a mere human — a commoner nonetheless — was seen hanging around with the great dragon?! surely it must be some elaborate prank or a joke! due to that, a quarrel had broken out amongst the high standing authorities of the society or amongst those who work under the dragon’s commands. it wasn’t common to see the dragon walking amongst the common folk, no. but what was weird was the fact that the dragon seemed so… humane, as he laughed and even played pranks on some of the people with you. thankfully, it quieted down when he decided to address the arising problem at hand and peacefully settled everything. not entirely peaceful though, as some — okay maybe everyone who has the position of authority — had strongly protested against him being on a friendly level with a normal human.
too bad for them because the dragon basically told them to shut the fuck up and think of their own lives. in a very gentle and professional manner for they knew you would have jumped their asses if given the chance. that’s just how unhinged you were but it was okay for the dragon loved your little unhinged things and comments.
it was adorable to see you shuffling around with nothing in mind. just daydreaming in your head, waiting for their meeting to end so you two could go out for the promised snack run. he always loved to come from your back and swoop you up in a big hug, effectively spooking you no matter how many times he has done it in the past. he loved the little squeaks you made. the quick latching of your hands around his neck to stabilize yourself. the scolding you give him about warning you the next time he comes in to swoop you off of your feet.
endearing — that’s how you were in his eyes. a treasure to be protected. a hidden gem to be admired. the painting of an ethereal angel to be seen but never to be touched. and dragons know just what to do to keep their treasure safe.
protective hand constantly around your waist or your shoulder, keeping you close to himself. a little peck on the crown of your head away from prying eyes. sometimes, he would bare his fangs at anyone who shows hostility towards you, human hands morphing, elongating into sharp claws that could tear into their flesh. a tail wrapped possessively around your ankle or wrist, refusing to let you leave his side. though, it was always unconsciously done as the dragon would apologize with flushed cheeks when you point it out.
“your tail has a mind of its own, i swear” he could hear you mutter with a giggle, a hand running over the smooth scales of his tail that was loosely wrapped around your middle. he was lucky enough to have some peace and quiet in your presence without his servants to annoy him further. while you? he was sure that you skipped your work again to come over to him. you always seem to find a way to skip out of work.
the dragon didn’t mind. if it meant being able to see you again, he wouldn’t mind cutting out of his own work to come and visit you.
with a low rumble in his chest, he pushes his head into the crook of your neck further. tail peacefully hooked around you, his own hands in his lap as he quietly purrs in content at the feeling of your hand smoothen out his scales.
“awww, you purring?” you coo out, hearing the distinct noises he was making as he uses your shoulder as a makeshift pillow. the dragon pauses, realizing he made a mistake of letting himself get too comfortable in your hold. no doubt you would use this to tease him, and he was right when your hand came up to scratch under his chin like one would treat a cat.
“mmrrpp… nope. i have no idea what you’re talking about” he tries to deny your words, yet making no effort to defend himself as he leans further into your touch. it actually felt good to have you scratch his chin and to purr like a cat. all he got in return was a hum.
this was usually how your days went. cutting out on work, running away from your superior to pet an overgrown lizard. a very handsome lizard who loved to spoil you but a lizard nonetheless.
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oh heavens have mercy, it was back. it was back and it was worse than last year’s and the dragon was silently cursing his body as he tries desperately to keep his mind grounded.
sometimes, he tended to forget just how annoying it is to be a dragon or have some sort of draconic blood in his lineage until he is reminded of it. hot, bubbling lava swirling in his stomach, his mind constantly going to the gutter as he thinks about all sorts of inappropriate things. and he wasn’t safe nor were you safe because for some reason, his mind kept creating the image of you. gentle hands exploring his flesh, teasing kisses on his elf-like ears, dirty vile whispers of how you didn’t knew he was such a pervert.
that wasn’t how the dragon wanted you to be remembered as. he wanted to keep your image clean and sweet, surrounded by nothing except flowers and gentle smiles. not his tail wrapping around your waist to make you continue to fuck his brains out until he cried dumbly.
“[name]… [n-name], forgive me…” pitiful whines spilled from his bleeding lips as the dragon tries to drown himself within the pile of pillows and blankets stacked upon his bed. how perverted must he be to think of your image in such a lewd way? he doesn’t think he can bring himself to look you in the eye the next time you meet.
knock knock!
urgent knocks sounded from the doors of his home, ones he thought he was just hallucinating in his current state. being in heat sucks as the dragon couldn’t tell if the things he was hearing were real or just a fragment created by his mind. curse his biology.
soft clicks and clacks resound into the emptiness of his home, making him perk up slightly from bed. who could it be? not everyone knew how to enter his home nor would they be foolish enough to do so during this time of the year. but there was one important person he was close to. the one person he forgot to notify of his oncoming heat cycle. the same person he gave the spare key to his house to. the same human who—
“hey! you were home along, huh? i got worried when you weren’t at your workplace the last two—“ he could hear you trail off, words getting stuck in your throat as he sees the slight widening of your eyes when you took in the scene of him just being miserable. curled up on his bed, tail flicking wildly as if he was provoked and uncomfortable. ears and cheeks flushed red with slight haze covering his usually bright and attentive eyes.
ah, he really wanted to make you see how pathetic he could get during this time of the year.
“[name]… p-please, leave. i don’t want to drag you into this mess” another whine of your name fell from his lips, this time louder than the one before.
please don’t get close, he could smell your scent and it was driving him up the walls. human hands becoming more scaled and clawed as he paws at the soft materials of one of the blankets. poorly muffled whimpers falling out as he tries to hug his tail to himself, to keep it from reaching out and hooking around your ankle like it always does. please don’t come closer, he might just trap you in his home for days until this cursed heat goes away. he didn’t wish to subject you to this torture.
“ah, right. i forgot that lizards and snakes go into heat during this time of the year” you briefly take a look at the calendar hung on the wall. the last 2 days not crossed out due to his suffering of the heat. the last 2 days you didn’t see him. at all.
he must’ve been in so much pain. whining and groaning, little growls slipping out too as he tosses and turns on his little makeshift nest. in the middle of his toss and turning, you could catch a glimpse of a small wet patch starting to form on his pants’ front. was he getting hard by just seeing you? how… cute.
“[name]! please, just leave! i can t-take care of myself” the dragon pleads, trying to shuffle away as you approach his bed to sit on the edge of it. shushing his pleas, you reach a hand out to place it over his tail that he had let go, the extra limb curling around your wrist a bit too tightly.
“hey hey.. it’s okay. nothing wrong with helping you out here, y’know? i just wanna help” you hum, rubbing small circles onto his knee where your hand was placed. you could only hope that it would soothe him and his troubled self, but it seems to have the opposite effect as he now looks pained. brows furrowed with fanged teeth chewing on his lips, so much so he was starting to draw blood. you tut softly, other hand reaching out to make him stop doing that.
it felt nice to have you here. the hand that was on his chin trailing up to smoothen out his long tangled hair. he had forgotten how much the little things can calm the nerves of his as he leans into your touch. you were here. reassuring him, being understanding as you suggested helping him. what did the dragon ever did to deserve you?
swallowing the saliva in his mouth, he gave a little nod, signaling that he had decided to accept your offer of help. you give him a small smile, to which he reciprocated with shaky, bloodied lips. it took some effort to help him get rid of his pants, his tail getting in the way over and over with how it refused to stay still. it even knocked down the bag of little groceries you brought when you first walked in. the dragon apologized, saying he had barely to no control over his tail during this time. you only chuckled at that, kissing his cheek as a move of comfort.
“you mind if i take these off too, pretty?” you thumb at the hem of his boxers, looking into his eyes for a sign of rejection. gods, he forgot how much he loved that nickname. breath getting caught in his lungs from hearing it in such a loving way, paired with how careful you were with him.
he gives a little nod and you take off his boxers, throwing it to the side with his pants.
oh? what an unexpected sight.
what you thought would greet you with the typical human male anatomy, instead there was a vent like opening. slightly puffy with a bit of scales on the sides in a seemingly protective layer, a little bud on top similar to a clit and wetness dripping from it and down to the sheets. you would have never thought that dragons would have such an interesting anatomy.
tentatively, you run the tip of your forefinger over the slit, softly prodding them in an opening motion to see how he reacted. he only flinched, soft whimpers falling out. he was so wet too.
“does every dragons have an anatomy like this? does it hurt when i do this?” you ask curiously, unable to tear your eyes away as the slit seem to pulse gently, opening up and closing, almost like the soft fluttering of a butterfly wings.
“i think so… maybe? and no, it doesn’t hurt. don’t worry” he reassures you, finding your genuine curiosity endearing. even in a moment like this, you were being so thoughtful. so gentle. so kind and understan—
“can i lick it?” sigh… he should have seen it coming because you had this tendency to not think before you speak, therefore resulting in moments of unhinged words and actions. but the thought was one he was willing to entertain. none of his former lovers had tried to lick his vent before and it would be a new experience. out of his comfort zone but that’s how new experiences are like.
giving you a nod, he gets comfortable on the bed as he opens his legs to you more, watching with dilated pupils as you settle between them. soft kisses to his thighs got him heaving a breath he didn’t knew he was holding, muscles loosening in relaxation as he waited. you took your time. soft kisses trailing from his thighs, to some little scars before finally reaching his vent. in a way to test the boundaries, you gave a few kisses to the scales, the little bud that resembled a clit before licking a stripe up his slit, tasting the slick that was gathered there. he tasted oddly sweet. like honey that was left in room temperature for a bit too long. you could feel like legs jerk, threatening to close around your head.
“s-sorry… not used to it” he mutters under his breath, to which you only hum softly. placing your forefinger and middle finger on both sides of the vent, you make a little spreading motion. gentle little licks turning more greedy as you give his insides a few licks. the dragon lets out a loud whine at that, throwing his head back on the pillow as a clawed hand comes down to fist at your locks.
he didn’t had plushie insides, if anything, you were pretty sure you felt scaled limb move inside his vent. the scales similar to the soft ones that were on the outside of his vent. maybe it was the same thing? in an effort to satisfy your growing curiosity, you push your tongue inside a bit more, prodding at the soft scaled limb slithering inside.
“gyaAANH—! w-wait a minuuyygkk♡︎♡︎ [n-name]♡︎!” he yelps loudly, his legs finally wrapping around your head as he writhes on the bed. more of his delicious juices spill out, dripping down your chin and to the bedsheets. it was a bit too much for him. this was first time allowing his vent to be eaten out and you were such a curious little human who kept pushing him to limits of pleasure he never knew existed. hell, he didn’t even knew he could let out a squeal like that before.
meanwhile, the poor pent-up dragon weakly bucks his hips into your mouth more, you only continue with your little research. pushing your tongue inside, licking up his insides as you push his vent open more with your fingers. by now, you have come to the conclusion that this slick gushing into your mouth was his precum. at least, what can be considered as a precum in dragon terms.
eyes focusing on his pretty face twisting in pleasure, you felt giddy with how easily you could make him crumble. such a strong and intimidating dragon, only to turn into a moaning mess when you eat out his vent. it was endearing to see how much he trusted you.
continuing to prod and lick at his vent, the insides and the little nub resembling a clit, you watch in fascination as his slit becomes more loose. the scaled limbs that were slithering inside now starting to push out, prodding past the protective scales of his vent opening. oh, it was his cock you were prodding at when you were eating him out.
wait no. cocks.
sitting upright, wiping the mess he made on your chin, you coo words of comfort as his cocks slowly comes out of his vent. helping him with it, pushing his legs open each time he tried to close them because everything felt too much for his overly sensitive body. one was a bit bigger than the other, soft, glistening scales that were the same color of his tail on the base that slowly turned into his human skin. the scales were soft, barely noticeable but definitely sensitive as he kept twitching whenever you ran your finger over it.
“they’re pretty” you remark with a smile, fingertip trailing from the base of his bigger cock to the tip, teasing his tip with a light few taps. he could only jerk at that, whining softly at the feeling of your hands on him.
oh gods, was this real? your hands were on him. on his body. on his cocks. you were touching him, helping him out during his heat. you… he wondered if you would allow him to scent you. maybe leave a mark or two on your neck. perhaps if he begged enough times, you would allow him to touch you too—
“aangh—! [name], don’t just touch them like.. that… aaanghh haah s-so soft♡︎” he trails off into a quiet moan, his claws digging into the pillow under his head for stability as you finally wrap your hand around his cock. softly stroking it, occasionally swiping your thumb over the leaking tip to make him squirm. your hand was so soft. so loving in the way it handled his cock. were you not taken aback by how weird it was? how inhuman they were? he isn’t surprised that you aren’t. you find almost everything interesting, and his body was one of them.
“easy, pretty. deep breaths, i got you” he could hear your words over the soft moans of his own unrecognizable voice, so shy rather than the commanding authoritative tone it usually has. all he could do was nod his head, no thoughts in his mind as he allows you to take care of him. you can take care of him just fine, he knows that better than anyone.
“f-feels.. good. love uungk♡︎ the way your haaanhhg h-hand feels♡︎♡︎” he stutters over his words, barely able to let out a single sentence without tripping over his own breath. how could you be so good to him? stealing his breath away from the moment you first stumbled your way into his life until now, in his bed, taking care of his sensitive body.
all the while, you kept a close eye on his vent. the soft fluttering it occasionally does whenever your thumb would swipe over his pretty pink tip, whenever you would add pressure to the prominent vein under his mushroom tip. it seemed sensitive too. and neglected too as it continues to drip with the slick he was gushing over your face just moments ago.
switching between his two cocks, trying to give attention to both of them, your free hand grazes over the lip of his tent. almost as if sensing your curiosity, the poor thing opens up a bit more as if asking you to push your finger inside it. but was that possible? judging from the size of the slit opening, you could tell it wasn’t fit for taking things inside other than his own cocks. but there was still some space left. maybe you could give it a shot.
“breathe for me, pretty. you’re doing so good. that’s my sweet dragon” words of praises continue to fall from your lips, clouding his mind more and more with each word. so much so to the point he couldn’t tell that he came on your hand already. using his moment of distraction, you ease your finger inside slowly until the first knuckle.
“aaNNGH—?! [n-name] what’re yo-oouugnnh—! h-heavens, what—♡︎♡︎ what are aaAMH♡︎ MYAANGH MMRPP♥︎?!” immediately, he started to thrash around on the bed. choked pleas of stopping, asking you what you were doing and soft sobs falling from his lips as his legs shake like a fawn’s. what were you doing to him?! it felt like a hot bubbling lava was swirling in his stomach, ready to burst at any moment. what is it that you were doing? he— he couldn’t bring himself to see it, afraid that if he does, he might let out a sound that he never let out before.
but that dam he was trying so badly to hold back broke when you eased your finger into the second knuckle. shaking legs weakly kicking at the bed, tail coming up to wrap around your wrist in a tugging motion into the vent while he arched his back so prettily, letting out a damn squeal as his cocks squirted over his stomach and to his chin.
“oh, look at you! gods, you’re so damn ethereal, darling. i fucking love seeing you like this” you say in excitement, watching as his dilated pupils turn into a heart shape while fat globs of tears start to roll down his cheeks. he was really sensitive huh?
softly, your finger explore the insides of his vent. tentatively stroking his inner vent until you came across a soft spongy spot inside. it felt oddly gummy, very little but still there. curious about what it was, you give it a little stroke, watching as your dragon squirts yet again. his legs wouldn’t stop shaking and twitching, body writhing on the bed so cutely as he blabbers about some unintelligible things. you could faintly make out your own name and things about hitting his soft spot.
“[n-nAME]!! STOOHPPP SHTOP STOHP EECK♡︎♡︎!! t-too much f’ meeaannnhhg♥︎ t-too much too muchtoomuchtoomuUUNGK!! GYUUCKKK—♥︎♥︎!!” your sweet darling cries out, sobbing as his claws reach out to your hands, digging into the flesh there. it didn’t help that your other hand was still stroking his poor cock, making his orgasm longer than it ever has been before.
he was going crazy. he would die! if you kept stroking his cock while fingering his soft spot inside his vent, he would surely go crazy from the sheer amount of pleasure!! he can’t take more—
“c-can’t—! can’t squirt ‘nymoowwhr♡︎ [name]!! [name]!! [name]!! [name]!! [name]!! [naMEE]♥︎♥︎” the dragon trails off, eyes rolling to the back of his skull as your name falls out of his mouth in a gibberish mantra. oh, how adorable he was, jaws slack open as he drools, crying about not being able to squirt anymore when his cocks easily does it for him.
“shh shhh… easy, love. easy” you shush his shrill moans, kissing his pointy ears as his tail refuses to let your finger out of his vent. how cute. he was such a contradiction, it was adorable. but you could see he had never received such amount of pleasure before as the grip of his claws on your hands loosen, blurry heart shaped pupils staring at you with no thoughts in his head.
“you can take another finger, right?” you ask, wincing slightly when his tail wraps entirely around your forearm now.
“[n-name]…! [naaammeee]—! m-mate♡︎♥︎♥︎” your sweet dragon trails off, nothing behind those hazy eyes of his as he only slurs out your name and the word mate over and over again.
he can definitely take another finger.
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kalystatheevil · 5 months
Text
picture scaramouche bent over, hands tied behind his back, face pressed to a coffee table with you holding him from behind
tw: cursing, cnc, praise, humiliation, dom reader, unhealthy use of ellipses; (amab reader), 18+
you rub your glistening cock between scaramouche's spread asscheeks, almost moaning from the view alone. your precum is already leaking into the cracks, moistening them prettily.
"fuck, scara… what did i tell you, huh?" a sharp slap resounds, and scaramouche's right cheek immediately starts turning pinkish. the boy grits his teeth.
"go to hell you fucking psycho."
"mhhh…" your thumbs leave little indents in the supple skin of his ass. between them, a throbbing hole clenches nervously. "a psycho, am i."
scaramouche moans as you push the tip past the rim. you're sure he didn't mean to, but it still escaped his lips. slowly, you push just the tip in and out, watching intently as the skin spreads around the gland, swallowing it greedily.
"you stretch so beautifully, scara," you coo, a soft blush on your face. "so incredibly beautiful"
"stop— stop looking!" scaramouche growls. "it's—" he gasps loudly when the tip enters him yet again, face already red from all the blood gathering in his head.
"it's what, scara..."
"it's— ugly…"
at this, you click your tongue and stop. "ugly?"
scaramouche becomes angry, deflecting from his quickly rising shame. "yes, ugly. seriously, stop with this stupid game you're playing, i don't need you to act like you're into th—"
you thrust into him, deep and hard. scaramouche's words are lost in a strangled gurgle as his eyes roll back.
"it seems i need to fuck that thought out of you."
with one roll of your hands, you shorten the rope connected to his tied wrists, tugging them upwards. slowly, you start to roll your hips back, watching as the rim catches and slides over your cock. you moan. "aah, scara… you look so, so pretty like this"
"fuck… you… ngh— a-aahn…"
you breathe heavily. "fuck. fuck, scara. you take me so well. look at you, moaning like a slut..."
"shut— shut up. fuck. i'll kill you. i swear i'll fucking kill y— MGH!" you slam back into him. any further protest is drowned by the sound of thighs hitting flesh in sharp slaps as you start pounding into him. harder and harder you thrust back inside, needing to reach deeper, faster, harder.
it doesn't take long for scaramouche to lose his composure. on the surface of the coffee table, he rolls his head almost limply to the side. his eyes are blurry with pleasure, but still he tries to look at you out of the corner of his eye - to make you see exactly what you are doing to him.
you breathe a laugh, panting hard. under scaramouche's mouth, a steadily growing puddle of drool forms. he twitches, legs giving in.
you grab his hips so hard his skin will certainly bruise. scaramouche is not yet allowed to stop taking you. you stare and stare, fucking him until the world starts to tilt, until your cock feels numb from sheer pleasure, until you start twitching so hard that it's visible on the front of scaramouche's stomach—
you cum hard, gasping for air. white stars form in your vision, and you can feel your hands tremble on his soft skin.
"haha…" you laugh, out of breath. under you, scaramouche whimpers quietly.
after a moment, you pull out slowly. a thick line of cum connects the tip of your still slightly twitching cock with scaramouche's warm, fluttering hole. "ahh… fuck. my cum… hahaha… deep… deep inside you…"
scaramouche lets out another whine. his hole clenches before releasing a white drop of liquid. he whimpers, trying to say something.
"mh?" you ask, using your thumb to smear the droplet around the throbbing hole. "speak up, scara…"
amidst his wordless whimpers, you push your thumb inside and laugh again, feeling scaramouche milking it powerlessly.
"i wonder when you came…"
"mmglh…" scaramouche answers. when something warm touches his freely leaking cock, he flinches lightly. a moan tumbles over his lips. with the palm of your hand, you rub the tip of his soft erection.
"or rather… how many times." scaramouche's eyes slowly roll backwards. with a grin, you raise your hand back up and glide your tongue over the palm, humming appreciatively at the taste. "yum ~"
"no…more…" scaramouche finally breathes. "can't…" your arm slings around his belly. with ease, you lift him up. "ahn—"
"no more? no more, scara?"
"no... more..."
"but baby..." you place a soft kiss on his temple.
"we were just getting started."
[formatting shamelessly stolen from scara smut writer @hanxku]
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brenbofen · 7 months
Text
Don’t cry, Hydro dragon! ♥︎
Sub Neuvillette x Dom AMAB Reader
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Broadcaster Message - dragonss……oughhhh. need me a needy dragon boyfriend. sorry both of my works for Neuvillette ended with bath sex, obsessed with the idea of carrying a tired n sore neuvillette to a bath and letting him cock warm ans sleep against you you while you wash him.
Notes 🗒️ - Sub Neuvillette, Dom AMAB Reader, Genshin Leaks?, Pet names (Dove), Anal penetration, Reader is big, Belly Bulge, Dacryphilia, Cockwarming, Reader is strong enough to lift Neuvillette, Needy Neuvillette, Probably OOC Neuillvette, Short-ish? Let me know if I missed anything!
!! Not Proof Read !!
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“It’s beginning to rain, dove. Wonder why that is?”
You laughed as you looked away from the windows and down at your boyfriend Neuvillette. His body trembled as you pushed your dick deeper and deeper into him, tears prickling in his eyes. He sniffled once you got only half your length within him, pitifully clawing at the blankets beneath him in an attempt to ground himself. You hummed, leaning down and kissing Neuvillette softly, dragging your hand up his chest, grinning against his lips when you felt him squirm as you fully sheathed yourself within him.
You pulled away, gently squeezing Neuvillette’s stomach, admiring the small lump that formed on his stomach. Neuvillette glanced down at it then threw his head back, letting out a pitiful sigh once his head hit the plush of his pillows.
You hummed as you looked outside and saw the dark clouds dissipate, glancing over and seeing the tears on Neuvillette’s face drying. You leaned down and kisses Neuvillette, mumbling against his lips, “I’m gonna start moving, dove. Alright?” Neuvillette nodded, letting out a groan when he felt you begin to thrust in and out of him.
His hands flew to your neck, nails digging crescent moon marks into your flesh as he felt your fat dick drag along his walls. “W-wait! It hurts— AhhHHh—“ You sunk your teeth into Neuvillette’s neck, giving him something to distract from the pain of you stretching him out. He let out the sweetest whimpers as your dick rubbed against his prostate, tears beginning to prickle in his eyes again.
You loved when your dove cried, and you especially loved how rain would always follow when he shed tears. You moved up to kiss Neuvillette’s cheeks, gently rubbing his cheeks to wipe his tears. “Y-your- hahHHhhh—“ Neuvillette hiccuped when he felt you begin to thrust faster, hands trembling against your neck. “Yo—u’re s’ bigg- Mhmm-“ Neuvillette drew his words out, speech slurred and sentences just barely coherent.
You chuckled against Neuvillette, feeling him clench tightly around you, tears spilling down his cheeks. “I know you can take me, dove.” You gently ran a hand through Neuvillette’s hair, “You’ve done it before.” Neuvillette let out a shaky breath at your words, thighs trembling around you as he pushed his hips against you. You loved how quickly he fell apart beneath you, crying and hiccuping the moment you began touching him.
The only sound within Neuvillette’s room was his moans and sobbing paired with harsh rain thudding against the window. You dragged your hands down Neuvillette’s body, softly cooing at him as he cried and cried. “Pleashh- You’re too b-ig! ‘s too muchh!“ Neuvillette cried as he tugged on your hair, fat tears rolling down his cheeks as you pounded into him. You didn’t say anything just kissing his face, mumbling soft praises and affirmations as you were balls deep within Neuvillette.
No matter how many times Neuvillette took your dick he could never get used to it, you were so impossibly large and stretched him out so much, he couldn’t help but cry! But he loved how close you were, if he went too long without you beside him he’d cry even harder. You both knew he was an emotional man.
Through gritted teeth Neuvillette tried so suppress his whines when he felt you release in him, reaching his orgasm shortly after. His body shook as you massaged his hips, allowing him to grind against you and ride out his high. “I told you you could take it.” You grinned at Neuvillette, the man just sighing and pressing his hands to his face.
You clicked your tongue as you glanced outside once again, “The rain stopped.” Neuillvette looked outside as well, taking his shaky hands from your neck to wipe his tears, breathing returning to normal and body ceasing it’s trembling. “We should clean up.” Your tone was flat as you turned to Neuvillette, seeing an adorable pout form on his face. You attempted to pull out, but Neuillvette wrapped his legs tightly around you, straining to sit up and wrap his arms around your neck once again.
“Please don’t pull out.”
You sighed as you stared at Neuvillette, having to fight the smile tugging at your lips as he clung to you and pressed his face into your neck. “Alright.” You shrugged and hooked Neuvillette’s legs over your hands, lifting him and carrying him out of his room and down the hall to a bathroom. Thankfully no one was inside of his home at the moment other than the two of you.
You carefully set Neuvillette into the bathtub and began to run the water, hand under it to test the temperature. “This fine?” Neuvillette escaped his daze from your words and stared at you with a cloudy gaze before slowly nodding, swirling the water with his hand. You tilted your head, watching as Neuvillette looked so sad in the water, then you heard the rain.
You hummed, leaning on the edge of the tub and running a hand through Neuvillette’s hair. “What’s wrong, dove?” Neuvillette looked up at you, pointed ears twitching as he thought, straining to form coherent sentences in his tired mind. “I asked you to not pull out.”
You stared at Neuvillette for a moment before bursting into laughter, the man flushing bright red at the sight. You wiped tears from your eyes as you regained your composure, smiling softly at Neuvillette, “So that’s what it is?” You made a ‘tsk’ sound before getting up and stepping into the bath, turning Neuvillette so he was facing you, legs now straddling your lap. “You’re so needy, y’know that?” Neuvillette just huffed as he clambered into your lap and lined himself up with your dick. Thankfully he was still stretched out from earlier, so there wasn’t much pain, just a small hiss from Neuvillette as your tip pushed past his hole.
You hummed as Neuvillette situated himself on your lap, Neuvillette letting out a satisfied sigh when he got your full length inside of himself. “You complain I’m too big, but get upset when I’m not in you?” You grinned at Neuillvette, the man rolling his eyes at your teasing tone. He pressed his face into your neck, humming when your hands found a home within his hair.
“Let’s clean you up now, yeah?”
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alhaithamtit · 2 months
Text
cw: premature ejaculation, sextoys, dom!gn!reader
IMAGINE
fucking a virgin guy with a fleshlight. watching him sob and writhe underneath you as the tightness of the toy makes him cum in three pathetic thrusts. don't stop. use it on him until all that comes out of him are pathetic whimpers and moans. watch as he falls apart, his balls empty and orgasms dry.
gepard landau, dr. ratio, leviathan (obey me!), alhaitham, diluc ragnvindr, neuvillette
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uplatterme · 8 months
Note
Imagine Idol Aether where you fuck him backstage but you don’t let him cum so he just has to perform horny🤫
Also can I be 🦷 anon
—idol!aether/manager!reader, sub!aether/dom!reader | edging, mentions of exhibitionism | reader has a dick and penetrates, gets called sir
aether continues to pant, his body hugging yours.
his poofy white shorts lowered to his thighs, cum leaking from both of you.
his music continues to play from the stage, loud enough to be heard here in his dressing room.
“please.” he breathes.
he feels your hand caressing his back, the soft touch just making it unbearable. he wants to cry so badly, he needs it and you weren’t giving it to him.
“no tears. it’s too late to get your makeup retouched.” you warned.
“y-yes, sir.”
each thrust pleasurable but agonizing, but he’d rather have this than nothing.
“you like it, don’t you? hearing your fans excitedly cheer for you…meanwhile, you’re here getting dicked down by your manager.”
the idol hides his face on your shoulder.
“c-can’t help it…you make me feel so good.”
you bend him on his table, the mirror facing him as he gets pounded.
“i bet you’d love to be fucked on stage, hm?”
he doesn’t know how to answer to that. it was a thought that’s crossed his mind before, he doesn’t dare to lie.
the urge to pull on his golden locks was high but you decided against it, not wanting to ruin his hair.
besides, you were already ruining his bottom half.
“you just adore attention, don’t you? you think those fans of yours can’t see under your shorts whenever you dance?”
“you made me wear it…” he argued, his lips trembling from keeping every sound in his chest.
no moaning or screaming, you said. it’ll ruin his voice, you said.
and yet here you were dicking him down ruthlessly as if that won’t affect his dancing. he bites the bottom of his lips, his thighs are already shaking on their own.
“you act like i forced you into this. i gave you options, didn’t i? but you still chose this one.”
aether lets out a soft grunt as he feels your movements directly hitting that spot.
the idol looked drunk, he wanted to grip on something but he could do nothing but close his fists on top of the table.
“what is it? you want to show off to your fans that bad? or is it because that one boy group you like is attending today’s concert?”
aether shakes his head. “ngh…no. only you, i promise.”
a knock comes from the door. one of the staff reminding them that they had to go in five.
“good. after all, a pure and sweet idol should stay loyal to the one he loves. isn’t that right?”
“y-yes!” he yelps, feeling his stomach warming up with your cum.
once you pull out, he already feels his shorts getting fixed without even wiping the stains or cleaning him up first.
he’ll try his best to keep it in, just like as usual.
he can’t wait to finish this concert and just get dumbed down without any worries.
each step has him quivering despite his shoes being short-heeled, cum slowly leaking out of his briefs whenever his body shifts wrongly. each nerve of his body wanting to just pounce on you and cancel this event.
“do a good job.” you say.
aether smiles at you, an idol’s perfect smile. “you know i will.”
you chuckle, unable to resist messing his hair up now by patting his head.
“i’ll make sure to reward you good afterwards.”
a blush creeps up on aether’s face just imagining it.
he has got to stop you with all this teasing.
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poksmimi · 8 days
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FUCKING YOUR STEP-BROTHERS!
contains♪ : scaramouche, alhaitham x afab!reader, stepcest, stepbrother, stepfather, breeding kink, rough sex, unprotected sex, reader wears a skirt, GN!reader, no pronouns for reader, squirting, pussy spanking, ass spanking(once), clit rubbing, degradation, name calling; whore, slut. Petnames; Darling, Baby, grammar mistakes.
notes♪ : 'm love icky boys, so be warned!! and part will be Dottore, Zhongli !! ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖ ♪ !! If there are any grammar mistakes, tell me!!
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SCARAMOUCHE
You turn your head sideways, your eyes meet up to see his, your stepbrother's eyes. He has a smirk on his face, his teeth showing. His hand was gripping at your leg, going up to your thigh as he slips his pants into your skirt, his hand rests on your cunt through your panties. You gulp and sweat goes down your face, his hand slowly rubbing up and down your cunt. Your pussy begins to get wet, a shiver of satisfaction goes down your spinal cord. He looks at you and you know what to do afterwards this dinner is over.
The bed is creaking, the headboard hitting the wall. Your mouth is wide open and drool hits your pillow, your mind feels hazy and he grabs your face. Your hands grip at pillow, his dick hitting spots in your cunt, he groans and closes his eyes. Gritting his teeth and the squeezing of your cunt doesn't help, your cunt feels so good around his dick. His face flushes red, his hair sweating to his forehead as sweat covers his body, his hands shakily grip at your hips, pounding fast and hard at you. "Fuck– your slutty cunt feels so 'm good around 'm!" He mutters, a ring of white liquid surrounds his cock. Your eyes are completely rolled back, your hair is sticking to your sweaty body. You can taste your own drool going back to your mouth as you can feel his dick ramming inside of you, your sight is hazy and blurry. You can smell sex, sweaty bodies and you can hear you and scara moaning, the springs of the bed speaking and the headboard hitting the wall in loud thumps. You don't know how long you guys been going, but your cunt still clenches for more. Your nails dig into the pillow and your cunt spasms around his cock, he bites down in his lower lip and goes faster, feeling his end and he closes his eyes, nails digging into your soft skin. "Darlin', your going to make 'm fucking fill you up again." He whispers, you moan weakly, the bed stops creaking as he stops and digs his nails dig in your skin, his palm spanks your pussy as you stiffen, your clit getting spanked adds more pleasure, you squeal and you squirt, wetting the bedsheet so much. His dick spurting out his semen, filling you up, some of his seed spills onto the cum-covered bedsheet. His hand spanks your cunt once more and his palm connects to your ass, smirking down at you. "You didn't think this was over, did you baby~?" He smirks.
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ALHAITHAM
You smile at him, showing your teeth and he glanced at you, you smile nervously. Fixing yourself up, fixing your hair and getting up before making your way to him, you had always been interested in Him and him becoming your stepbrother was going to make it more easier to be near him. He looks at you and your hands begin to be sweaty, he blinks and shakes your hand, you grip at his hand. You see a glint in his eyes, your face becomes darker, a shiver of pleasure or fear goes down your spine, your legs close and you hope that what your thinking is true.
"Al-haithie!" You croak, your eyes rolling back to your head, his big dick was pounding inside your squishy, mushy wetness. The table rattles, making the legs hot and scrap the floor hard, your legs wobble as his dick makes you cock-drunk. "Isn't this what you wanted 'm to do all along! You whore, you wanted this." He whispers, holding your waist, playing with the skin as he fucks you, it makes a loud clapping sound when he thrusts back into you. Your vocal cords hurting due to screaming in pleasure, your toes curl, loud clapping and thumping is heard until he comes to a stop. His dick spurting out his semen, your cunt clenches really hard around his dick, some of his seeds slip out and go onto the floor. You can hear your heartbeat but he doesn't stop, you yelp and grip at the table. "Wha—?" You say but his hand covers your mouth as his other hand hooks you under and makes you stand as he faces your body towards the couch, his two fingers inside your mouth as he taps your tongue. Making you suck on his two digits as he begins to move once more, fucking your wet filled-cum pussy, your cunt leaking out semen your juices onto the floor, his hard dick fucks your tight cunt. Your moans are muffled as tears begin to develop in your eyes, he groans into your ear, closing his eyes as he fucks you. "Going to come for your step brother, aren't you slut?" He speaks, his face is red and his white hair clings to his forehead, your hair sticks to your sweaty body. His dick was making you crave for more even when he is still fucking your cunt, his fingers leave your mouth and lay on-top of your bud. Resting on your clit as he rubs it, adding more not the pleasure, your eyes roll back as you scream. He fucks into your cunt so hard while rubbing furiously at your clit, your vision goes blurry, your stomach feels weird as you let out a loud-moan scream, his palm rubs at your clit and pussy, your squirting, wetting the couch and the ground. "AHh!" Your moans continue as he kisses your check, his dick soon spurting out semen, filling your cunt with more gooey cream. "Don't worry, darlin'. We aren't over just yet~" he purrs.
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st4rrth0ughts · 2 months
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fucking Kaveh as a puppet that was for some reason, built with a dick?? 🔆🏛️
a/n first fic of this series is done!
Kaveh feeling hot and bothered, he's stressed from work, Alhaitham's being a dick again (he wants yours), so he goes to your place, wanting to stay with the one person he loves more than his work. You, his darling. A puppet that was intially missing its heart, that he crafted for you. Over time, he became even more attached to you, and so did you. But tonight, he has a different idea on he wants to relase his stress. Afterall, he's the one who wanted to see if a puppet could fuck a human.
Kaveh’s eyes roll back as he depearately rides your cock, his pussy clenching hard around you as your cool hands grasp his hips in place. He's panting like a dog in heat, drooling as his eyes filled with hearts as he fucks himself, your dick feeling almost a little inhuman in his body, sending shivers down his spine as his toes curl. His blonde hair is messy as it sticks to his face, his body bouncing on you so beautifully, even you cant help but conclude that he's the most pretty human and thing youve ever seen and recorded. But after his 5th orgasm, your human's speed is starting to slow, his body leaning on you as he tries to continues fuck himself weakly on you, tears spilling from his red eyes from both overstimulation and overwhelming pleasure.
"darling, if its too much, you can stop."
you murmur softly, tracing the bulge in his stomach as he rides on your mechanical dick deperately. Your starting to wonder why your creator even constructed for you to have one to begin with. You could even ejaculate like a normal human, if you wanted to. Makes you wonder what the hell your creator was even thinking when he made you.
'n-no, ngyah-♡♡ fuuck- want your c-cock to breed me-♡ oh-!" His eyes roll back as your cock hits his g spot, hard. He bucks himself back on you harder, his sharp cries and moans flling the room. You figure he's not going to be able to ride you any longer, so you grab his hips, and slam him onto you hard in quick succession, making him arch his back and let out choked sobs and shrieks of pleasure, cumming on your cock over and over again, the feeling of your tip kissing his cervix so harshly making him see stars. You grunt, your hips thrusting upwards slightly, making the architect wail as he claws at your back. You register his pain, but he seems to be enjoying it, so you continue. The man seemed to be frustrated over something, so while your dick pounds into his dripping pussy, you figure that he wants your cum in him. Pulling him close, you whisper softly in his ear, your free hand flicking the architect's nipple.
"you want me to cum in you, kaveh? want you to give you what you’ve been wanting?"
The architect mewls in delight, his eyes rolling back as he leaks around you when he hears that. He deosnt know where you learnt to talk like that, but archons it made him want you even more. His delighted sounds tell you everything you need. Your breath hitches (if thats even possible) as your hips stutter, and his mouth opens in a silent scream as he feels a warm liquid filling his pussy, falling limply onto the table, his salacious whines and whimpers making you want to do it again. Your hips start at a rapid pace again, making the blonde below you spasm as his fingers scrape the wooden table. But he seems to enjoy it, and you have all the stamina in the world to fuck him till he breaks.
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dilfverz · 4 months
Note
Reader fucking Wriothesley against the doors of his office , all the while Neuvilette has to hear him :3c
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⋆。˚ ♰・wriothesley x top reader (ft. neuvillette)
┈─ ・explicit content. ftm wriothesley. getting caught. voyeur neuvi. office sex. masturbation. reader has a dick/strap.
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THIS THIS THIS, wriothesley had always been known as a man of integrity. he was the duke of meropide after all, tasked to reform the criminals of fontaine and redeem them a final chance. though, no one really had a clue as to what the duke got up too behind that large office door. maybe it was best to stay that way. wriothesley who's got his chest pressed against the expanse of his desk, fists spasming uncontrollably and his uniform messy while you stood behind him. one hand pressing at the back of his neck, thick digits tangled with a few short back hairs, while the other is buried between his thighs and rubbing lazy circles on the tip of his tdick.
wriothesley who has no problem with letting you know how good he feels, the initial stress being fucked out from his system. "fuck! right t-there.. oh my gooood, yes yes yes! love your fuckin' cock.. so good, plea– mnggh~". wriothesley who loves how you pull him back onto your cock, bottom lip caught between his teeth while clenching around you as that familiar feeling builds up within his stomach. wriothesley who's got that cute tremble to his thighs when he's about to cum, a shaky moan spilling from both of you as everything got a lot more sloppier. that was until footsteps could barely be heard coming up the stairs to visit the duke, though it's not like either of you noticed anyways. it was the chief of justice.
neuvillette had travelled within his free time to come discuss and some important matters with wriothesley. the slits of his eyes thinning, he could smell it before he could even see it. breeding. the scent of sex and previous loads could easily be picked up by some one like him, cock stirring to life in his pants as his heart begins to race. neuvillette who can barely see the way your cock drills into the duke but the angle is enough to get his thighs squeezing together, visioning what it would be like if it was him instead of wriothesley. "y'know chief, its awfully rude to stare"
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obsessions﹒⫘﹒@astroknottt @nymime @kaiiseru @asuyaka @immurrsed @infrunamie @eli-chris @theirbf @george-alii @blackwhitething @notvinc3nt @tophamhat-kyo @exphhoria @strawberrybarf4 @the-lurking-await-you @linaaeatsfamilies @he11s-ange1s @twistedw0nd3rland3acc @joypowder @azraelsecretgarden @malewh0re @shuosen @y-yearning.
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© 2023 dilfverz. ─ please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without my permission.
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brayneworms · 1 year
Text
roots of lore.
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ft. xiao x gn!reader
word count. 1.4k
content. scars, scar touching, xiao's backstory (mentions of abuse + slavery), massages, xiao is touch-starved, fluff, petnames (sweet boy), grinding, not technically smut but definitely suggestive, light dom/sub undertones (dom!reader + sub!xiao).
synopsis. xiao is free now, but his scars remain.
notes. i am an nsfw blog, minors dont follow me or interact.
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Xiao's body locks up beneath you, a trembling cage of flesh and soul.
You're reminded of when he'd grudgingly agreed to spar with you for the first time, after much wheedling. The first time you'd asked, he'd looked at you like you'd grown another head; the second time bred only subtle irritation. The third, he'd informed you flatly that under no uncertain circumstances could you beat him, and he doesn't like to fight at the best of times.
The tenth time, you wore him down. It had been exhilarating—you got your ass beat, sure, and Xiao had been going very easy on you, too. You'd limped back to the Wangshu Inn with bruised ribs and a strained ankle and a huge grin. You're sure Xiao thought you even stranger after that. But now it's become routine, and though he has years of experience on you, sometimes you're quick enough to get a couple of hits on him.
One time, oh, one time you managed to get his feet out from under him with a training staff, a harsh whap to the ankles and he went down, knees and face in the dirt. Before he can get his hands under him to push himself back up, he feels a phantom weight settle over him like a shadow, and he freezes. The blunt tip of your staff presses into his spine, right over a ridge, in a way that renders him temporarily motionless. Your knee brushes against the outside of his hip as you lean down, and when you speak, you're so close to his ear that he can feel his pulse in his skull; "Got you."
This is the first time you feel it—the way Xiao freezes when he's bested. At first you think you've made him uncomfortable, but... through the tufts of dark hair obscuring his expression, you can see the tips of his ears burning red. You can feel the slightest tremble running through his bones where your body just barely brushes his own. And, most tellingly, when you lean forward to murmur what was supposed to be a gloat, you feel the choked-off noise he bites back somewhere high in his throat at the contact.
And you suppose it's not so different to now, really—your room at the Wangshu Inn is quiet and decent, half-lit by glass lanterns and the moonlight outside. You're far too high above Liyue for any stray passersby to be able to see through your windows, which is just as well. You don't want anyone to be privy to this view except for you.
He's still mostly dressed, which is almost more tantalising than seeing him naked; there's something about the way the fabric drapes over his skin that makes you want to eat him alive. He's taken to burying his face in the bedsheets to hide as you work at him, a palm spread wide over his stomach to feel his stomach rise and fall. Even this contact sends his blood catching alight, his spine arching into your touch as your thumb strokes at the skin. Laving your care into pale flesh, one gentle swipe at a time.
You set another hand gently on the jut of his hip, push him back down to the bed. "You okay?"
Xiao presses his lips together, half mortified at his own lack of control and half blissed out beyond caring. Nobody has ever touched him like this, with so much care, so much love—it feels foreign, bubbling up hot and carbonated inside him like it insists upon itself. Calling out to an endless void, love me! Love me!
It seems impossible. But here you are, rolling him over on his stomach. He's half-grateful; burning up from the intensity of your stare, neck sore from trying to burrow into the bed to hide from it. He sinks his head into the pillows and let loose a long, trembly sigh as you clamber gently over him, legs bent on either side of his hips. The weight of you rests on him as you reach out to toy with a lock of dark hair.
Xiao whines at the suggestion of tension against his scalp; you pull nowhere near enough to hurt, but the in-between is maddening. It's like anticipation, like holding a loaded crossbow waiting for the bolt to loose. It feels like you should hurt him. Like you should want to. But you don't, and before long your fingers leave his hair to trace patterns on the nape of his neck, and Xiao shudders, burying his head into the pillow.
"You're okay, sweet boy," you murmur, and Xiao wants to argue that he's not a boy, he's so far from it, and sweet sounds like a joke when it tries to stick to someone like him. Karmic debt oozes from his pores, gritty and dark and acidic, surely infecting even your lovely hands, and Xiao readies his voice to say all this but then you run a finger hard down his spine and he stifles a whiny noise into the sheets instead.
He's aware, vaguely, that he's panting, that he's never felt this alive in this way in all his life, that what started as uncertain jerks of his hips to relieve some of the weird tension building hot in his low stomach has turned into a steady, rhythmic movement. His hips roll against the mattress, ignited by your careful touch, your fingers that dance on the precipice between pleasure and pain. It's too much, it's not enough, and Xiao stifles another cry into the mattress, mortified.
You stop quite suddenly, and Xiao makes another pathetic noise before realising where your hands have paused. The window in the back of his shirt that ripples over the skin of his spine, baring the flesh for the world. His heart flies into his throat; he usually keeps a glamour up, nothing especially powerful, just enough to heal his skin and keep people from seeing—
Your fingers trace a scar, and Xiao feels the prickling of tears at his eyes. Seeing that.
"Xiao," you whisper, and try as he might he is unable to read your tone. He's rooted to the spot, unable to move a muscle, and the fiery want in his abdomen goes cold and rotten in earnest. He can't look back at you. You've seen.
You must think he's hideous. A thing only worthy to be kept, to be hit, to be made use of. He wants to curl into himself and hide.
"I've never seen these," you murmur. "Do you keep them hidden?"
Shamefully, Xiao forces himself to nod; he can't possibly speak.
"Oh, sweet boy..." And your hands move again, tracing up and down the ridges, the jagged X that serves as a remnant of his days of servitude, tattoos his skin like a brand of ownership. Whip scars, beatings where the skin sliced open, pockmarking an unmeasurable amount of skin. Xiao wants simultaneously to pull away and to melt into you; he wants to let you rip him open at the seams, sink your hands into the ichor and black karma that makes him up inside. The thought of disappearing into the wind flits briefly, temptingly, across his mind—and then your hands drag over the center of that jagged X and his eyes roll back in his head, and the sinks into the mattress with little more than a whimper.
"You're so beautiful," he hears you whisper, and it feels impossible, like a sweet dream of some other reality where he deserves such gentle treatment. Your fingers nudge at the back of his head, coaxing. "Look at me?"
He cracks open a heavy eye with great difficulty; it gleams bright as topaz above cheekbones shaded in deep scarlet, hair amuss, shielding the rest of his expression, but his eyes speak enough. He looks agonised.
You lean forward, press your lips to the raised center of the labyrinth of scars in a stinging kiss, and Xiao swallows a choked noise. "I don't want you to hide these from me anymore, okay? Look how strong you are. How brave. I want to be reminded of that every time I look at you—that's what you deserve."
Xiao draws in a shaky breath. "I am not... any of that," he mumbles, paying no mind to how wrecked his voice sounds. "These are marks o weakness. Of servitude."
"And now you're free," you whisper, and Xiao's heart soars like a bird over the horizon. "Free to wander, to love. Free to stay right here with me."
Xiao can think of nothing better.
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dvlboy · 3 months
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deceiving | 18+
he is such a cutie, so sweet, so adorable. you just want to wrap your arms around him and cuddle him to sleep every night. his sweet laughter or shy affection is almost enough for you to forget about how different he is.
he's absolutely insatiable. for such a sweet looking man, he sure can be cruel in the most arousing way.
"please darling..? just a bit more, then i promise you can rest!!" his voice was clouded in arousal and false promises. "you jus' feel so good inside." he threw his head back, drool leaking from his lips as he rolled his hips on your dick. both him and you knew about his false promises, but who could say no to him?
"you said that two rounds ago, are you trying to suck my soul out or something?" you could tell that your voice went in one ear and out the other, your boyfriend clearly too engrossed in pleasure to even think about stopping. his face was scrunched in the cutest way possible, and the blush on his cheeks made him look even hotter.
he couldn't give a reply, only holding onto your thighs and quivering, body tensed. jumbled words spilled for his lips, and his warm, muscular body worked against yours in a lewd melody. he grabbed your hands and put them against him, making you feel his abdomen.
"see how big you are in-inside o'me?" you could tell how hard he was trying to pronounce his words, going slow and steady until he tripped up his speaking because of how you hit that special place inside of him. your hand could feel through his abdomen, a familiar movement that matched with your thrusts. "so bigggg.."
it was your dick that he willingly speared himself under after work. it was the same dick that also made his throat bulge and his legs quiver. he just loves pressing himself against it, or comparing the size with his arm.
"hold me," you could see a pout for on those saliva coated lips, and you did as told, giving him light praises and kisses-- trying to ignore how erotic he was. "sooo biigg, can't get enough.." he was starting to slur, and close his eyes. you could see his dick twitch, and maybe it was time for a bit of payback.
your hand grabbed his dick firmly, making him jolt and whine your name. his teary eyes looked at yours, a silent begging for you to let him cum. "if you're gonna keep me up and milk me dry, you better do it right. no sloppy riding here today."
HINATA, NISHINOYA, oikawa, VENTI, DEKU, HEIZOU, AETHER, THOMA, KAVEH, ASMO, mammon, kazuha + ur favourites <3
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im losing my mind lol
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infrunamie · 5 months
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shameless men who send you videos of them doing outrageous things themselves in open spaces.
in a public bathroom biting the hem of their shirt to muffle their moans, zooming in on the way his fingers spank and rub circles on his clit.
“fuuuck me, ‘m so dirty, so dirty for you..!”
in his office, feet pirched on his desk and his phone propped up on his snow globe. one hand plays with his chest while the other spanks his dripping hungry cunt with a ruler. the wet plap! echoing in his office.
“p–punish me [name], my pussies ready for you..”
in the street, sending you a video of him trying out a new popsicle flavor, savoring and slivering his tongue all over it. cheeks hollowing from how hard hes sucking. moaning excessively like hes in some cheap porn movie as it drips down his hand.
“what? no need to be excited, just enjoying a little treat.”
satoru gojo, suguru geto, kaeya alberich, kaveh, tartaglia, vinsmoke sanji, josuke higashikata, joseph joestar, shimada genji, hobie brown, shidou, your faves
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maroonsoul · 3 months
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itto, reiner, gojo, choso, beel, ghost, könig, soap and ur favourite hoes.
pretty gym bros who dress up all nice and slutty in order for you to notice them. tight compression shirts paired with ridiculously short shorts, along with drops of sweat running down their toned chests and necks made you stare so hard you actually thought you'd become a pervert. pretending they’re all outgoing and flirty with everyone in the room until it came to you.
stumbling on their words when you come to ask them for advice, which they happily give you. but you didn’t really care about improving your work out in any ways. all you cared about was breaking this facade of theirs they so proudly displayed. so you did ; ramming into your pretty boy’s ass shamelessly in the locker rooms, not giving any fucks about who might walk in and witness what was going on, while he covered his mouth in attempt to hide his adorable whimpers and gasps.
the way he arched his back so beautifully made you wonder if he was actually used to this. you couldn’t stop watching his ass bounce with each and every harsh thrust you gave him. your cock buried so nicely inside him, touching his pecs every now and then and occasionally whispering sweet insults into his ear. he never thought he’d be the type to enjoy getting assfucked harshly and degraded but at this point he was willing to take everything you gave him.
you watched how he even put his back into it to get more stimulation, it sent shivers down your spine, you could’ve never imagined that he’d be this good. he whispered swears and begged for release. he couldn’t believe he was actually getting fucked raw in a public space with some random guy.
would he do it again with you ? in a heartbeat.
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exphhoria · 4 months
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Sweet as a melody
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How the genshin men sound ft. Albedo, Childe, Scaramouche, Kazuha, Venti, Zhongli, Gorou, Cyno, Bennett, Aether, Xiao, Tighnari, and Kaveh
CW : Dom!reader x sub!character, Childe / Scara / Kaveh are brats, Bennett is aged up, penetration ( characters ), mention of penetration!receiving ( Childe ), light degradation ( Kazuha ), choking ( Venti ), semi-public ( Kazuha / Venti / Gorou ), overstimulation ( Zhongli ), dacryphilia ( Cyno / Bennett / Xiao / Kaveh ), breeding ( Aether ), spanking ( Zhongli ), praise ( Gorou ), edging ( Kaveh )
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Albedo is all quick breaths, sharp inhales, and quiet groans, but when he’s thoroughly fucked out ( think- after an orgasm or two ), he lets out prettiest, unrestrained moans. He has a small dick that flushes pink at the tip and it’s so sensitive. Frot against it, and he’ll quickly be gasping and biting down on your neck to quiet his moans.
。。。
Childe is mostly curses, your name, and grunts and groans. After a few rounds, he can’t speak properly so all that comes out are sounds vaguely resembling words. “F-fuck y/n- do-don’t stop” “Shit, you’re tight” P.S. brat right here ! Fuck his brains out until he can’t remember any of his usual cockiness. Childe acts like he’s all that, but it doesn’t take much for him to unravel under you, begging you to let him cum.
。。。
Scara tries to act all tough at the start, putting on an act of defiance. Soon enough his “Fuck you”s and “I’m gonna kill you”s turn into loud, choked moans and pants of “a-ah! Right there” and “S-shit harderfsggs!” His pride only holds up for so long before you thoroughly ruin him ( he’s such a brat, pls put him in his place )
。。。
Kazuha has high, breathy moans. They’re not extremely loud, but not quiet either. He’s also very mischievous and not shy about telling you how you make him feel. He’ll often whisper into your ear in public, describing to you all the things he wants you to do to him. Get back at him by wrapping your arms around his waist and toying with his nipples, discreetly rubbing the sensitive buds. He’ll turn into a blushing mess, squirming and stuttering. Just know that you’ll have to take responsibility for what you started ! Pull him into an alleyway to fuck him silly. “Better keep quiet, love,” you’ll mutter, “or do you want everyone to hear what a slut you are?” He’ll do his best to keep quiet, biting down on his lip in the most seductive way as you make quick work of him.
。。。
There’s a certain bard who does not know how hold back in the slightest. Of course, this mischievous little bard is Venti. He moans like a whole ass pornstar. He’s so loud. If you don’t have sound proof walls, you’ll need to either choke him or gag him with your fingers to keep him quiet ( lest you want the whole neighborhood to know what you’re up to ). Kiss him until he’s gasping for air and his legs buckle underneath him. Venti wants everyone to know how good you make him feel, always leaving the windows open just in case someone walks by, only to see him pushed up against a wall with his legs spread wide and tongue lulling out while you pound into him.
。。。
Zhongli tries to hide his lack of composure, but when you’re filling him up so perfectly, it’s hard to keep quiet. He has these low grunts and moans that come out all pretty and broken when overstimmed. He looks so gorgeous with his back arched and ass in the air just for you. Slap it, hard, and don’t apologize after. If you spank him in public, he’ll only glare at you sternly, secretly hoping you don’t notice the subtle tent forming in his pants.
。。。
Gorou tries to stifle his moans at first, after all, he has a reputation to maintain, y’know? Especially because you always seem to want to embarrass him, dragging him into his tent and fucking him right there in the camps. It’s so hard for him to keep quiet when you’re making him feel so good, but he’ll try his best to be a good for you. Tell him how well he’s doing, staying quiet despite taking your cock and he’ll cum right then and there from the praise. When you’re alone, that’s when he can finally let loose, clawing at the sheets, your back, anything he can reach and moaning and gasping like he’s within an inch of his life.
。。。
Cyno has these soft, airy moans that drive you absolutely insane. If you’re not already, hearing his pretty little whimpers make you want to completely ruin him until the only words on his tongue are your name and his face is streaked with tears. He’s so obedient for you, not cumming unless you give him the command. It’s not his fault if he messes up and cums all over himself, not when you hit that perfect spot inside of him. Take pity and don’t punish him, okay? After all, such a good boy following your commands.
。。。
Bennett was definitely a virgin before meeting you. He cries really easily too and has these pretty little whimpers that make your dick twitch while still inside him. It doesn’t take much until he’s babbling out a broken, “A-agh! To-too much… can- can’t cum any- ah m-mmgh more.” He passes out after just a few rounds bc he can’t handle all the sensations of how good you make him feel. Manhandle him pls, he loves the feeling of losing control and letting someone have full power over him.
。。。
Aether is very vocal in bed, not bothering to mask how loud he is. His moans are high pitched and mellow, sweet as honey. He’s always trying to tell you to go faster, but he’s so far gone that the only sounds that come out are his incoherent babbling interrupted by gasps and moans as he chokes on tears. He’s such a slut, not satisfied even after cum is leaking from his hole and dripping down his thighs. Pls breed him until he’s so filled with your cum, there’s a visible bulge on his stomach. With how rough you are, he can only come up with so many excuses before his colleagues start to wonder how he’s always losing his voice !!
。。。
Inexperienced Xiao ftw !! He’s another one to have very breathy moans, lots of gasps and grunts too. In all the years he’s lived as an adeptus, he’s never had his insides so utterly wrecked. You’re just so big ! He can’t help the tears that stain his face nor the way his eyes roll back when you kiss his prostate so exquisitely. He’s quick to pass out, cum spilling out of his hole as he clenches on nothing. Keep fucking him while he’s unconscious and his eyebrows will furrow is the most beautifully delicate way.
。。。
Oh my gosh- Tighnari is so needy. You don’t have sex often, but when you do, it’s rough. After being pent up for so long, he wants to be fully ruined. He’ll whine and pant, begging you to go faster, to let him cum. He’ll claw at your back, leaving countless love bites on your neck and shoulders. The only thing he can do to stop from screaming is biting down on your tender flesh and whimpering into your neck. He’ll be too dazed to speak, only loud moans and whines coming out from his marred throat. He won’t be satisfied unless he’s cum at least 5 times. He’ll try to get up early to groom himself and get to work so you’ll just have to keep fucking him until it’s dawn and he’s passed out from pleasure.
。。。
Kaveh whimpers btw. He’s a brat too, he’ll pretend he’s tough and doesn’t like it, but when he’s close to cumming, he’ll be too busy chasing his release to keep pretending. He’s another clawer, be prepared to have your back covered in scratch marks for the next few days. It’ll look like you got attacked by a hilichurl ( or a cat ), best to just let people believe that’s the case. He likes to tease you in public so you’ll just have to punish him later by edging him until he’s sobbing and begging you to please let him cum. “P-please hic, I swear I won’t- mmMgh do it again”
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©2023 exphhoria ; do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim, plagiarize, or use in any form of ai
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