#it's certainly prettier than me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luveline · 5 months

Note

hi, i’m not sure if your requests are open, forgive me if not, but i’ve been thinking about bombshell!reader and spence lately. not sure if you’ve written this already or something similar, but how about them sharing a room on a case? similar to alaska.

fem, 1k

Spencer predicted the outcome of the roommate situation fairly quickly. Ignoring whatever data he might have in his head about the team, Spencer was always going to end up sharing with you tonight, because the universe hates him, and because you quite like him.

It's nice to be someone first choice, if nothing else. “Me and Spencer will share, obviously,” you say, holding out your hand for a keycard.

Hotch passes it over without complaint. He doesn't have to say keep it professional, you will (ish), and he doesn't have to ask Spencer if he's okay with this arrangement. Despite endless exhausting teasing, everyone knows that you and Spencer are actually friends. Or, he thinks you are.

You certainly feel quite friendly as you hike your bag higher up your arm and sew the other arm through his. “Let's go. I'm so tired I might fall asleep on the way there.”

You don't look tired. Spencer struggles to understand how every emotion you wear suits you. How every time he looks at you, you're prettier. He read a book recently on human attraction, and less factual but perhaps his most strongly believed takeaway from the book was that a person grows more attracted to the person they're attracted to, like a loop, or an ouroboros snake eating its own tail, forced over and over to make the same stupid mistake. What is he doing? Does he really think this is a good idea? Is he in love with you? How couldn't he be? You walk arm in arm to a room you're going to share and you don't care that he smells sickly of arnica and deodorant mixed together. You ignore the dark circles under his eyes, dark circles you never seem to have, always so perfect, always so you.

“This one?” you ask, coming to a stop. “Room… 108?” He takes your bag and you smile gratefully, inserting the key, and legging open the door. “Tada. Home sweet home, Dr. Reid.”

The hotel room is small and stale. Clean, sure, but questionably, with yellowing furnishings and sparse furniture. There's a double bed, two nightstands, a cubby bathroom close to the door, and a single chair near a small free standing countertop opposite of the bed, hosting a microwave and cups with hot chocolate sachets.

“Wow,” you say, beaming, immediately breaking for the bed.

“Wait, wait! We have to check for bed bugs.”

You hold your hands up in surrender.

Spencer peels the sheets back and uses the little torch on his keychain to investigate the mattress while you sit on the floor, one leg crossed beneath you and the other stretched in front of you as you sort through your clothes. You hum as you fold a shirt cleanly and make a pleased sound that may prove to give him indigestion as you unearth your pyjamas.

“Spencer, can I shower first? Do you mind?”

“I don't mind.” He turns off the torch, satisfied. “Thank you. For letting me check without being annoyed.”He says the second bit quieter than he means to.

“Why would I be annoyed?” you ask, standing up in a whirlwind of pistachio perfume. Low notes of something sweet and caramelised haunt him as you drop your hand on his shoulder. “I'm gonna shower really fast, I swear. Should we get dinner? I bet we could order something to the front desk.”

“I'll see if they have any menus.”

Sitting in bed with you, later, showered and fed and drinking microwaved hot chocolate from paper cups together, Spencer has a strange flash of pleasure. Talking to you, seeing you with your hair in its protective style for the night, your skin shining with lotions and serums, and to have the revelation that you really do have dark circles under your makeup, it all feels private and special. Because you're still undeniably beautiful, and you act like he's worth sharing that with.

He feels overwhelmed, in all honesty.

You can sense it. You do your best to calm him down.

“Finish your drink, babe,” you say, knocking him on the thigh with your knuckles. “It was a really long day.”

“I'm fine.”

“Yes, you are.” You giggle at yourself. “Sorry, I'm being serious tonight, I decided.”

“Why?” he asks, puzzled.

“I don't want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You don't.”

You put your hot chocolate on the nightstand and sink back into the pillows, looking every bit a movie star as usual despite your fresh face. It's your expression, the confidence behind them, that makes you so beautiful.

“What are you thinking?” you ask.

He looks down into his hot chocolate, swirling the drink around and around. “You're beautiful.”

It catches you off guard. You're quiet for too long, panic festering in his chest.

“You are too.” You put your hand on his thigh. When he brings his haze to your face, you've closed your eyes, a small smirk playing on your lips. “Wanna brush my teeth for me?”

“No.” You both laugh. “Sorry if that was out of the blue, before.”

“I say worse to you,” you say. “Lay down with me. We can snuggle.”

Spencer lays down. You don't snuggle, but your hand stays pressed to the side of his thigh, and the smell of your perfume lingers despite your shower. It must've been caught in your hair.

“It's weird,” you say, facing the ceiling, “I'm not tired anymore.”

“It's called learned arousal.”

Your laugh is a shock. “Oh, is it now?”

“Not like that. Are you thinking about work? If you think about certain things while you're in bed, it starts to make it so you think about those things on instinct. You've conditioned yourself.”

“I don't think so,” you say. “Well, maybe. Mostly I just think about you, Spence. And not like that.” You laugh again, so much laughter Spencer could conjure the sound from memory alone. “Sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I promise I'm not trying to harass you.”

He stares at the side of your face. “I know what you mean. I think about you too.”

“Well, good to know I'm not in this torture alone,” you say softly.

It is the worst night's sleep of Spencer's life, but he thinks he might want to do it again.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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wri0thesley · 1 year

Note

SO glad someone else is in the "Just the tip" hole, so here I am like a little kid, cupping my hands for any spare thoughts (preferrably anyone besides Sampo), if you have any to share? 🤲🖤

loni i was going to write a post anyway but being able to reply to asks with my thoughts - proof that there is Demand (tm!) makes me feel SO much better about the brainrot!!! i have many thoughts abt sampo too so i am eagerly awaiting ur drabble, just the tip is really a concept of all time!

ft: gepard, welt, himeko, serval, jing yuan, luocha cw: reader is afab with no pronouns used. public sex (luocha), straps, sex toys (himeko and serval), a little size kink (jing yuan), a little soft dom (welt). not sfw, minors dni.

Gepard doesn't quite realise how big he is. He's not got all that much experience; he's never really thought about it, far too busy with all of the responsibilities that come hand in hand with being Captain of the Silvermane Guards. So when your eyes widen and your fingers can't quite meet when you wrap them around his length, he lets out a ragged breath and a moan and pushes his cock between your thighs. You have to breathlessly curl your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and whisper out his name. He's already on the edge just by being close to you. The silky softness of your thighs, the inviting shine of your lips and the way that arousal makes your eyes blow dark and wide - when you whisper softly into his ear; "I don't know if I can take it, Gepard . . . J-just the tip, alright? Go slow--", he worries that he's about to embarrass himself right there and then and come before he's even gotten inside of you.

You whine and whimper as he slowly pushes you open, your wetness smearing all over the ruddy head of his cock. Your fingers tighten in his hair even as a soft strangled noise falls from Gepard's own mouth and he struggles to not ram himself inside of you - you have no idea how good you feel. How hot and tight and wet and perfect the embrace of your walls clinging to him is, even on just the head of his cock.

But he did not get where he is by not having self-control. His muscular arms, corded with scars from practise battles and real battles alike, cage you in on the bed beneath him. He looks at you like someone who cannot believe how lucky he is.

"I'll wait here," he promises you, his voice lust-soaked and cracking with the effort. "As long as you need me to."

Welt sees how your lip trembles, how you take in a slow, steadying breath, and he cannot help his desire to take care of you a little. To coddle you and fuss over you, to make the most of the age and experience that he has and you do not. So he smiles at you, crow's feet crinkling the edges of his eyes behind his glasses, and traces the pout of your bottom lip with his thumb. His voice is patient and soft when he speaks to you.

"I'll go slowly," he tells you, as he gently slaps his cock against your wet folds where you sit on his desk before him, animation sketches and research papers pushed to one side in favour of the tempting treat that is your body. He has spent so much of his time working - nobody could blame him for taking a break and finding himself again in the silky tightness of someone younger and prettier than he himself is. "Just the tip first."

"Alright, Mr Yang," you breathe to him, your hands locking about his neck, urging him forward. You sigh as the head nudges your clit, as his precome mingles with your own slick arousal. You're a sensitive mess already - Welt is certainly not the kind of man who'd leave a partner unsatisfied, and his fingers and his tongue have already learnt every petal-soft fold of you, every spot that makes you shiver and whimper until you'd had to bite into his shoulder to stop your cries waking up every other crew member of the Express.

Slowly, slowly, carefully, he eases into you. Watches with rapt attention every movement of your body; the stretch of your cunt as it accepts him, until your hips are wriggling and squirming and you're tugging on his shoulders.

"Mr Yang," you're saying to him, your lip trembling, your shoulders racked with gasps. A whine leaks into your tone as he rests the head of his cock inside of you, enjoying the feel of it. Your sex pulses around the modicum of his length inside of you, fluttering, waiting to be fully claimed. "It's -- it's not enough!"

Welt laughs softly and presses a kiss on the top of your head that is almost paternal in its comfort - a reminder that he's old enough to be your father, your grandfather--

His voice is soft with just a hint of admonishment in it.

"You're really going to have to learn some patience."

Himeko has you wrapped around her little finger, but that doesn't mean that you don't eye the toy that she shows you with a little trepidation. She laughs at you when you do, pulling you into her, kissing you with the taste of coffee on her tongue as she talks you into her bed.

"If you're frightened of it," she's saying, even as your mouth is going dry as you watch her disrobe, "We'll go as slow as you need, darling. We'll start with just the tip."

You lose the ability to speak at the sight of her, auburn curls tumbling down her back and over the milky pale spill of her breasts and shoulders. Bathed in the starlight from her cabin window, she's unearthly, and your entire body sings out with desire for her. She smiles when she sees you looking.

"Always such a flatterer," she teases affectionately, as she wraps the toy carefully around the curve of her hips. It looks just as striking on her as everything else does. "Now, you just lie back. I've done this before. Let Himeko handle it, hmm?"

You're helpless to a command from the beautiful navigator, and you let yourself fall back on the pillows as she walks towards you with all of the elegance of somebody who knows exactly how lovely she is. She gives you a soft smile, her golden eyes gentle in the light, even as she gathers herself onto her knees and her fingers lightly dance over your bare skin. Electric pinpricks of desire radiate from every touch.

"Aren't you beautiful?" She muses to herself, as she wraps her hand around the toy and pumps it a few times - when it comes away, you see there's something thick and clear and viscous dripping from it. She laughs softly again when she sees you looking.

"You're already wet," she whispers to you, in a low, musical voice. "But if you're still nervous . . . well, there's nothing wrong with a little help, is there?"

Her fingers dance over your skin. She knows every part of you intimately by now; the spot on your stomach, the way you whimper when she pinches your nipples, the place on your hips that makes you breathe in a deep sigh and your own lashes flutter. Through her touches, she keeps murmuring soft platitudes to you - how pretty you look like this, for her. What a precious treasure you are. How she can't wait for you to come apart--

And by the time she is sliding the tip of the toy inside of you and you are fair dizzy with want, you can do nothing but whisper out her name. She leaves the tip of the toy inside of you, smiling down, as patient and beautiful and dazzling as ever.

"I told you," she murmurs, as her long fingers return to pluck and play with your nipples, and you get used to the new stretch of having something thicker than Himeko's fingers inside of you. "We'll go as slow as you need. Any new territory worth exploring is worth doing . . ." She leans down, her mouth full and soft and wet as it meets yours and you whine into it. "Thoroughly."

Serval is a tease. You'd known she was up to something the moment you'd stepped into the workshop and she'd flipped the sign to 'closed' with a feline grin on her face as she'd beckoned you over to her and told you she could really use your help with some new gadget she was tinkering with.

So now, as she has you bent over her workbench with something vibrating pressed in the valley between the folds of your sex, the tip pressed just so - buzzing and tingling - against the swollen pearl of your clit, it's all you can do to keep your fingers tight around the edge of the workbench and your knees locked so you don't collapse.

"Kitten," Serval is purring, her hips slowly rocking back and forth, the phallic toy strapped to her hips rubbing through the wet mess of your cunt. "Don't you like it? I made it thinking of you!"

Your words come out garbled, a mess of moans and sighs. Your own hips thrust back when she pulls away, trying to get her to keep the toy pressed against your clit for long enough for you to get off. Instead, she just laughs, nipping at your bare shoulder.

"You're getting desperate," she teases you, her voice deep and throaty and satisfied. "Beg me, kitten, and we'll see what I can do for you."

"Serval--" Your voice comes out a whine. "Please . . ."

Her clever fingers, calloused palms, slide down your bare skin, leaving electric zaps wherever they touch you. You shudder under her practised touch - you are an instrument, and Serval has already proved she is a master musician.

"Seeing as you asked so nicely," she says to you, and you sense the wicked cat-like grin on her mouth. "How about I give you just the tip?"

"Not enough--"

"You're getting greedy!" The buzzing toy slides a scant inch inside of you without the smallest hint of resistance; you're wet enough from the teasing already. You can feel your own arousal dripping down your thighs, and Serval sighs happily as she dips one of her fingers between your thighs to toy with your clit as the tip of the toy rests inside of you.

"You're lucky you're so cute," she whispers to you. Her finger slides back and forth over your clit, drawing delicate circles - she always knows how to use them. "Come for me on the tip, and I'll fuck you with the rest of it too."

Jing Yuan's patience has long been mistaken for occasional laziness; but you know better than most that there is nothing of the kind, when it comes to him. And there is certainly nothing of the kind when it comes to trysts like this.

Oh, you and he have gotten used to rushing moments when you can, in between him being needed for meetings and work - but now? In the evening, loose ends tied up, with nothing but one another to spend the night on?

This is a tryst that will last.

Jing Yuan is not lazy - he merely likes to take his time. For a man whose being is tied up in his past warfare, he knows how to handle delicate things like you - but that doesn't mean he's going to rush it. Not when you look so pretty laid out like this for him, clothes rumpled and discarded beneath you, looking up at him with your eyes all soft and wanting and your mouth aching to be kissed.

He hums beneath his breath as he lets his mouth learn the shape of yours; pushes you gently back when you try and kiss deeply into him, to make him hurry up. His cock nudges against your inner thigh and he sighs a slow, indolent sigh of pleasure that makes your heart beat double time in your chest.

"We have all of the time in the world, little bird," he tells you, with an insouciant smile on his face. Your face scrunches, an adorable expression of impatience taking over your features, and he smiles down at you like someone looking at the finest treasure in the world.

"Impatient," he chides you, but there's nothing but warmth in his tone when it comes to you. His hands find your thighs, digging into the soft skin as he parts them. Warm eyes like pools of molten gold find your core, and he sighs as he looks at you. You squirm under his gaze, and as he softly leans down and lets some of his own saliva drip onto your cunt, you whimper at the feel. "This is impatient, too," He says to you, and laughs. "Drooling all over the place. Mm. Is that how much it wants me?"

"I want you," you respond to him, mouth petulant. Jing Yuan shakes his head fondly at you but readjusts himself, hand around his cock to guide it to your sex. He taps the thick head softly against your clit until you squirm, pouting. "Jing Yuan--"

"Ah, I know, I know," he looks down at where the two of you are not yet joined. "I'm always reminded how . . . small you are, when I look down at you like this."

"It will fit," you insist to him, and he raises one eyebrow.

"Oh, I know it will," he tells you, still smiling at you. "But it's a tight one, isn't it?"

"Jing Yuan, you're stalling--!"

He laughs again.

"Ha. My apologies, little bird." Slowly, he guides his cock to your opening - resting it against there, just for a moment. Exactly as he said, he seems so much bigger than you - his tip thick and blunt and rounded, your entrance small even as your hole pulses and oozes slick in preparation for him. "I simply like looking at you."

"There's something you'd like more than just looking," you encourage him, and he shakes his head so that his mane of hair falls over his shoulders.

"You're incorrigible," he tells you - and then he is pushing forth into you, and your mind goes white of anything but the feel of Jing Yuan inside of you, his cock, your cunt, where they meld together and you become one--

Wait.

Why has he stopped?

"Jing Yuan--!"

He swallows your cry of his name with a kiss that is anything but lazy, tongue exploring your mouth, teeth tugging at your bottom lip until you're dizzy with it all. He tastes, just a little, like sweets.

He pulls back just enough to look at you half-lidded, the tip of his cock just stretching you out.

"I'm merely taking my time," he tells you. "Whilst I have it."

Luocha is mean, you think, even as his words remain unfailingly genteel. Even as his face remains a polite mask, he leaves his cock not-quite inside of you as you tremble against the wall he has you bodily pressed up against.

"Please," you breathe out to him, teary-eyed, lip trembling. "Y-you can't just leave it there--"

He cocks one eyebrow, his face unfairly pretty - unfairly unruffled, even with the tip of his cock buried in you. He's unfailingly still - almost as if the hot tightness of your cunt pulsing around him has no effect on him whatsoever. One long, elegant hand curves around your cheek as a small smile pulls at the corner of his lips.

He's big. You can't help but squirm against the concrete, your cunt wrapped around only the head of his cock but feeling like you've taken far, far more.

"We're in public," he says to you, voice just a little condescending. "If I were to go about this more . . . vigorously, surely you wouldn't want the attention of every person in the vicinity on you?"

Your own need feels like a thrum inside of you. It's hard to think, as Luocha moves his hips the barest fraction and you find yourself whining aloud. Firmly, he moves the hand on your cheek so that it's pressed over your mouth, muffling your noises.

"You can't take more than this," he tells you, voice calm and patient. "Not here. Not now."

You whimper into his gloved palm, tears beading in your eyes like little diamonds. Even that doesn't seem to move him, though he tips his head to one side, vaguely considering. He moves his hand just enough for you to take a breath, and whisper beseechingly;

"I-if not here . . . will you do it somewhere else?"

He laughs only one soft, musical little noise. He leans in close, his breath cool against your neck.

"Mm . . . but when you ask like that--"

You cry out as he pushes another inch of himself into you, eyes widening as the noise breaks the calm, cool air. Luocha pauses.

"Oh dear," he says. "I suppose we'll have to both come quickly then, hmm?"

#hsr smut #hsr x reader #writing #not sfw text #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x smut #so much tagging to do....#gepard x reader #himeko x reader #welt x reader #luocha x reader #jing yuan x reader #serval x reader #hsr posting

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artytaeh · 26 days

Text

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can i disagree with some of this fandom's perception of tom riddle? surely he won't be a sweetheart like lorenzo, but...

┊ i also don't think that he'd be so intentionally rude, so cold towards his significant other. i honestly think that if tom ever becomes infatuated with someone, he would take pride into getting this someone to belong to him. willingly! 🌷

౨ৎ i guess i'll never know the reason why you ♡ ͡

love me like you do; that's the wonder of you . . .

... tom riddle is a smart man, you see. love, romantic feelings, to act like a couple and all of those things— these might be the most confused that tom riddle will ever be, because otherwise, he's an extremely competent, capable young man.

tom riddle does get confused, a little lost on what to do; he'd torture himself by discreetly watching couples at hogwarts interacting, maybe make some research (= read novels. romantic novels. it was a discovery of a new medieval torture for tom, seriously, to waste his precious time reading some sappy crap like that.) to better understand how to handle you.

how to deal with you.

how to cherish you, so that you don't ever entertain the idea of leaving him. you see, tom is a practical man— he'd rather not commit mistakes, because to fail, means to spend extra time fixing his error and doing the same thing twice, so that this time, it's done correctly.

applying this ideology to you, it means: that 1) tom riddle prefers to always keep your heart happy, so that you don't have doubts about him; so that 2) he won't have to take twice the effort to conquer the city of your heart again.

some think that tom wouldn't like petnames. to be fair, tom would frown at many of those, at first— thinking that they were cringe, disgusting or a psychological way to acquire diabetes. however, when tom gets used to this stir on his heart, those loud heart beatings that cloud his rational thoughts...

... it's excused to say that tom's preferred petname to call you by, is 'my love'.

tom reasons that's because it isn't a lie at all. well, you're certainly his— and because of you, because of your existence, of this enchanting aura of yours; that's how tom riddle discovered love. there are few things that tom is attached to. even fewer that he shows to care about, to have affectionate feelings for; one of them is the basilisk. others are his favorite books, all of them first editions that were troublesome, but endlessly worth it, to get. nevertheless, at the peak of the pyramid, there's you.

you. oh, how your name sounds so angelic, so right, so perfect on his lips. sometimes, tom doesn't call you by any petnames, so that he can mouth each syllable of your name, tasting the acquaintance of the name of his darling on his lips.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

he might call you by other petnames, depending on the occasions:

darling; which, in his opinion, is fairly one of the best petnames to be shared between a couple. because you, reader, are endearing to his eyes— a darling, really, whose presence immediately softens (ever so slightly, because tom riddle still is tom riddle himself, and that mask of stoicism of his won't be broken without putting up a fight.) those previously icy, cold eyes of his.

dearest; if tom is trying to reason with you. unlike what many think, tom would take a deep breath, put on that handsome smile of his, and use a gentle tone to convince some words inside that pretty little head of yours. 'dearest', he calls for you— so gentle, so full of affection; as if reminding you that you are the object of all of his affections and desires. you, his dearest, the one he adores the most. the reminder of such a fact easily melts you in less than a few seconds, which tom sees as too perfect of an opportunity to lose to convince you much faster.

doll; if you look rather ravishing to his eyes, whenever you dress up even prettier than other school days, and wear such pretty clothes and many accessories to further optimize your beauty. beautiful, perfect, flawless; like a doll. a carefully made doll. a doll, that sits there quiet and all pretty, obedient, doing as she's told.

( i must warn you, though, that tom won't entertain silly nicknames from you. tom riddle will ignore you, march forward without sparing a glance at you, not even acknowledging your presence should you insist on the matter. tom won't answer you, should you refer to him by such hideous petnames. you could be about to fall from a mountain, and yet tom won't help you until you address him properly. baby? he's not a child, for salazar's sake! pookie bear? now that might make tom riddle himself throw you off from the mountain's edge— call him such a monstrosity like that, and tom will lose every drop of faith on you. you're a lost cause. )

if he had to choose; yes, tom would prefer if you were obedient. contrary to popular belief, tom riddle is quite fascinated with sweet personas. to have a sweet significant other, who's all smiles and considerate words— it's so, so much easier for tom.

between a brat that trashes around for his attention, and a sweet girl who gently tries to indulge (purely out of concern, wanting him to share his problems with her!)— tom would rather choose the latter.

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quite the darling you are. to boldly take tom's hands between your own, with that frown of yours. no, you're not being whiny; yet tom can see that there's consideration, there's time spent on that little brain of yours, that tries to find the right words to speak with him.

then, when you voice your concerns— that tom spends some time alone from time to time, seemingly hiding something from you, as if to shoulder all of those burdens all by himself...

tom takes a deep breath, swallowing his temper. trying to keep his composure, because tom hates having to justify his actions. with a smile, tom puts on a facade, with a too much convincing tone: "oh, dearest, no. i'm flattered that you noticed that i haven't been having the best days; however, your presence makes everything better. in fact, being with you now, makes all of my problems seem insignificant in comparison."

should his sweet words not be enough to keep your nose out of his business, then tom takes a step further. holding your hands, tom squeezes them between his fingers, gently at first, tightly when you're too stubborn: "my problems are mine to solve, my love. i would never put such a heavy burden on you; your smile is too precious for me to ruin."

sweet, sweet words; some that tom mentally grimaces at, but knows that are necessary and effective with you. talking as if he's doing you a favor on keeping you away from his PERSONAL thoughts and goals.

and that's how tom pushes you way. gently, smoothly— so that you'd have to rethink this moment over and over, for you to understand that once again, tom riddle has tricked you; tricked you into doing what he wants. because without a fight, without you daring to bother him further... tom riddle made you go back to your own business, and leave his alone.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

however, when tom is in a better mood and less stressed with his own goals, he'd find it funny, entertaining even, if his darling tried to be bossy. to pout, to want some sort of control. it's hilarious for him.

so, he indulges you. well, sort of— tom tricks you into thinking that he gave in to your commands. to your whims. in a sneaky way, tom makes you think that you're in control!

the one who's in charge is you. yes, darling, of course. he pats your head, gives you that charming smile of his. with such a serene expression, tom briefly raises his eyebrows, mocking you inside that devious mind of his, as he says: you are absolutely right, dearest.

tom riddle doesn't really mind that you aren't consciously aware that the one in charge is him. that's fine; no, seriously, go and brag about it!

because ultimately, tom knows that what he says, goes. that with some sweet words of his, a little touch here and there, that you'll soon see the reason and comply to whatever tom wishes you to say, to do, to behave.

he does is so smoothly, that even for the outsiders, well... it'd be hard to realize that all that tom riddle is doing to you, is nothing but manipulation. and you're oh so easy to manipulate— it was a challenge at first. now, it's more of a chore; tom barely blinks through it. he knows you so well.

however, so that you whining and getting used to think that you're having things done your way, tom throws some praises and compliments here and there.

touching you chin, gently brushing his thumb on your lower lip; tom's gaze intentionally softens, as he praises: 'you're just too good to be true, my love.', whenever you act accordingly. when you do as he says.

brushing a strand of yours away from your face, so that he can further admire the physical features of his beloved: 'i sincerely can't take my eyes of you, darling, when you are so good for me like this. pardon the way that i stare— you're too beautiful.'

and with even more sincerity, tom riddle isn't sure where his manipulation ends and his genuine care for you starts; tom isn't sure, whether his words are now a muscle memory of his, or if he truly means them.

but he never allows himself to discover the roots of this thought. to actually find out if he truly is such an emotionally shallow person, or if his weakness for his darling is deeper than he realizes. no— this is one of the few matters, in which tom would rather remain ignorant about.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

because tom is such a gentleman with you...

opening doors for you. walking two, three steps ahead of you as soon as the entrance is upon sight, tom will open the door for you; his arm keeps it open for you to enter or leave the room first, and so those grayish-green eyes of his watch you, as you pass by. then, tom will enter just behind you, following your lead, quickening his steps to go back to his rightful place by your side. he lies to himself, saying that he only does such a small gesture to effortlessly keep you by his side. tom would be telling the truth, if he doesn't interrupt the thought that he enjoys to escort you— because, deep down, tom genuinely appreciates your company. every step, every minute you spend together. 'here, love. please, continue; what did you tell your housemate, then?'

tom riddle refuses to let you carry heavy books. so, as if it was muscle memory and so smoothly that you can't do anything about it, tom will carry your books along with his, as soon as you leave the classroom. it's not that he finds you useless, incapable; rather, tom riddle perceives you as a... preciously delicate, fragile little thing. most of the times, tom does it so nonchalantly that you don't even notice; you're too distracted by your conversation, to notice how tom carries your stuff, busying his arms. however, should you notice or worry that you're being a burden to tom in any way; tom shakes his head at you, waving off this silly insecurity of yours: 'i know you can carry them, beloved. however, allow me to do it for you. i am your boyfriend, am i not?'

offering his hand for you to take, whenever there's a higher step to be climbed up, or tricky stairs on your way. tom will do it too, to give you some kind of support, should you jump off of a particular high edge. whenever you wear high heels, tom would be specially careful with you— he offers his arm or hand for you to take, walking in a much slower pace than usual, so that you won't overexert your feet. we can't have his darling getting hurt, now can we? no bruises, no pain, no redness on your skin undesired by him, nothing to interrupt the lovely time you're spending together. 'take my hand, my love; it's quite high for you. that's it, darling, good girl.'

whenever you're about to sit, tom grabs the back of your chair, pushing the seat backwards for you to take, then helps you settle closer to the table. only then, will tom take his own seat in front of you. it's something that becomes so, so common between both of you, that sometimes you find yourself taking a few more seconds to sit down, whenever you hang out with your friends; unconsciously, you'd wait for tom to gently guide you to your seat. oh, you're spoiled.

leaning down to get the material you accidentally knocked out; if he's not quick enough to notice, then tom will keep his hand on the edge of the table, so that there's no chance for you to hit your head. 'quite the klutz, aren't you, darling?' — with a lighthearted tone, so that he doesn't come by as mean, tom couldn't help but to tease you just this time, — 'next time, let me get it for you, dearest. now, careful with your head.'

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

... and because he's always so soft-spoken with you, well, how could you listen to your friends, in case they notice that maybe tom riddle isn't as a good guy as he lets on? that perhaps, he is a little controlling. that maybe, he's too overprotective of you.

→ and of course, being the fool you are, you stroll to the lion's cage (or should we call it snake?) and deliver all of this information on a silver platter for him.

SAT SIDEWAYS ON HIS LAP, tom settles your thighs to rest on top of his, while a hand is respectfully kept there; caressing the smooth skin, rubbing circles on the bare skin of your thigh, just inches underneath the hem of your skirt.

tom riddle keeps up a serene expression, sometimes humming in acknowledgement, to show you that he's listening to this ramble of yours. if it's a topic that seems to have bothered or upsets you, then tom will keep another hand on your lower back; he soothes you with small movements of his fingers.

oh, how funny. so this ravenclaw friend of yours, told you that it isn't normal for tom, your boyfriend, to comment whether you roll up your skirt during summer? that such a thing is being controlling? now that's something tom will have to deal with. perhaps, he'll only have to frame this irritating ravenclaw girl; have you ever thought that maybe, she's interested in tom? that must be why the ravenclaw is filling your pretty little brain with such absurd exaggerations of his doings. how lucky you are, to have an attentive boyfriend that easily notices when a friend of yours has bad intentions.

( for obvious reasons, tom despises amortentia. he finds it disgusting, but more than that, tom riddle perceives amortentia has a rather pathetic tool to get someone's affection. tom will never use it on you— he doesn't need to! however, he will get his hands on one, to use it on that nosy, insufferable ravenclaw friend of yours. only to prove his point. so that this nosy girl acts disgustingly flirty around tom, so that you'll come running back into his arms, crying about such an awful friend and that once again, tom was right. you apologize to him, for doubting his assumptions. you end this friendship and cut ties with the ravenclaw girl. and tom, well, tom riddle has once again rid both of you from troublesome outsiders. )

ah, now this is entertaining! so these friends of yours, housemates, have noticed that tom has been keeping an eye on you. now, dearest, that's rather silly, don't you think? so what if you seem to find the same familiar faces in the same space as you? do you really believe your friends' theories? that he sends his followers ''friends'' to follow you around the school? darling, hogwarts is quite enormous and spacious, yet all of you study together in the same castle. it's inevitable, to see familiar faces, here and there.

( however, tom will blame his followers. how difficult can it be, to follow, to stalk a girl like you? and to go unnoticed as they do that? sincerely, tom stares at them with such disgust, such disappointment, that his followers tremble under his gaze— the future dark lord even mentions the idea of getting rid of them. of throwing them away. after all, why would he need such useless, such incompetent boys like them, if they can't follow simple orders correctly? it's excused to say, that you'd never suspect being stalked again. 1) because tom reassured you that such a thought is rather silly; and 2), because these followers of tom riddle do a much better job. out of fear. )

oh, darling, what silly friends you have! sincerely, it seems like you only attract observant delusional friends, or attentive paranoid companies!

in the end, it doesn't matter if your friends tried to alert you about tom's toxic concerning flaws traits. because in the end, at night, he will have you nuzzling on his lap, holding you so tenderly; all of these warnings disappear into thin air, when tom makes you laugh at such accurate ridiculous accusations.

in conclusion: no, tom riddle would never be rude or snap at you; not if he can help it, not if he can keep his temper in check. he believes that the best way to keep you so effortlessly devoted and infatuated, to keep you willingly by his side, is to treat you with care (even if sometimes he has to manipulate his way into it). how lucky you are, to have such a obsessive caring boyfriend!

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— i'm endlessly faithful to theodore nott. however. the first to kick the entrance door to my heart was tom riddle. and what a man (i can't fix him. i would let him ruin my life him tho!), ladies and gentlemen.

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle headcanons #headcanons #fluff #dark romance #hp fandom #hp fanfic #slytherin boys #slytherin boys react #christian coulson #tom riddle dating

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neochan · 9 months

Text

RULE BREAKER (M)

PAIRING: rockstar!mark lee & fem!reader

GENRE: rockstar au! band au! pwop

SUMMARY: another city, another girl, another broken rule.

WC: 3.3k

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol & drugs, cursing, explicit sexual content, fingering, pretty tame smut ngl, spanking, choking, hair pulling

NOTE: this was just to get me back in the groove of smut writing since it's been a couple months. this is also a submission for @nctpromptmeme . this is prompt 1 of this list!

mark lee knows it’s against the rules to take a fan backstage.

it’s not the venues rules. staff members barely spare a glance when he tangles his fingers in yours and pulls you down the nearly abandoned hallways just left of the stage. he doesn’t get a second look from a wandering sound engineer when he escorts you through the jungle of metal rails supporting the stage from beneath. and no one bats an eye when he slips past security to an empty green room nearing the back of the building.

it’s not his own personal rule either. mark has done this plenty of times; choosing someone within the first few rows at his concert, playing up the eye contact, having a security guard slip them a note telling them to wait up after the concert — and it almost never fails. after the band bids goodnight, and fans filter out on the street, mark hops back on stage to greet his lucky winner.

and they’re always there, eyes aglow with excitement and shock when they realize that yes, this was real. mark lee wants them for the night. leader of pop punk band parasocial wants to meet…y/n.

the taste of your name rolls off his tongue so beautifully, so intoxicatingly, he has to repeat it a few more times once the green room door is locked and the curtains are drawn — not too loudly though.

because while it might not be the venues rules, and it certainly isn’t his own, he promised his band mates this couldn’t happen. he swore up and down they wouldn’t become those kinds of rockstars. everyone knows the type — scandal starters, excessive partiers, seen with a bottle of alcohol or tightly wrapped blunt in hand, escorting fans backstage at every show to....well, to do exactly what he was doing right now.

but mark isn't stupid, so he hides it from his bandmates; despite them breaking the rules so brazenly. jaemin stacks up scandals like spare drum sticks, jeno gets off on the attention & fame, renjun self medicates with alcohol, and haechan couldn't be labeled as anything other than a junkie. but he can't be like that, because mark is the leader. the one that has to walk a straight line — at least in public.

so when he's finally locked away in private with his lucky hit, he let's go. there's no need to be an upstanding, careful leader — he can shake off the tension, relax his shoulders, and focus on what's right in front of him.

which, at the moment, just so happened to be you.

"you're gorgeous, you know that?" a tender hand tucks stray strands of hair behind your ear, "couldn't keep my eyes off you tonight."

you can't believe mark lee is right in front of you, touching you, praising you. it's every fantasy you've had of him rolled into one. so when his hands wash over your top, fitting themselves so perfectly on your waist, you giggle and take a little step forward. his body is warm, and he smells smoky with a tinge of bourbon, but what's catching you off guard is how much prettier he is up close. eyeliner is smudged underneath his lashes, and there's blue hair dye running down the side of his neck, on par with rivulets of sweat. the metal bar through his eyebrow is real, and when he flicks his tongue out to lick at his lips, you find a matching tongue piercing.

he loves this.

the wide eyes, taking him all in. the giddiness. the oh my god mark lee is touching me; and while he might not get off on it as much as jeno, he can't help the feeling rushing straight to his cock.

after a few beats of becoming completely starstruck by him, you respond, clasping tightly onto the front of his shirt, "i mean i'm not all that special, but you...." a blush warms your cheeks, "you're out of this world."

it's a reference to one of the songs he sang tonight, so he let's out a forced chuckle and mumbles the rest of the line, "if galileo could see you, he would fall to his knees." he catches himself by surprise when he slowly sinks down onto the floor, the cold tile seeping through the rips in his jeans. his fist curls around the waistband of your skirt, eyes raking your figure. hunger clouds his eyes, but you don't care.

you want this.

he almost thinks you're backing out when you clamp a hand around his arm, but then you say something that makes his head spin on it's shoulders, "you don't have to be gentle...."

it's the desire in your eye, the same glint that matches his own, that permisses him to yank the flimsy skirt down around your ankles, nearly throwing you off balance in the process. "pretty girl wants it rough, huh?" mark pulls himself back up to his feet, one hand winding through your hair, the other knocking your thighs apart, "don't worry, i'll make you scream." his fingers open you up, just the tips of them pushing into you. already you're stretched on your tip toes, trying to run from the warming sensation below your navel. but mark catches this and gives a harsh tug on the roots of your hair, "feet down."

you're basically sinking down on his fingers when you settle on the balls of your feet, the stretch welcoming yet too intense for your body, "f-fuck." you curse.

"baby," he coos, "if you're drooling over two fingers, i don't think you'll be able to take my cock."

"i can, i promise." you mumble, face burning with embarrassment. not because you were under the rough hand of your favorite singer, not because he was teasing you about how tight you were, but because he was peering so fucking deep into your eyes, like he was searching for your soul.

"oh she promises," he mocks, pushing his fingers deeper. he can feel your walls fluttering around his digits; pulsing when they curl and brush the sweet spot he knows all too well.

you're out of breath, eyelids drooping with the weight of having to keep them open, "s-stop toying with me." you plead, nails raking the arm that's holding your body against the cinder block walls.

theres no snarky comment that follows. instead, he leans forward and captures your trembling lips with his own, and you see stars. it's exactly like you imagined it be — feverish, rough and demanding, exhausting every bit of willpower from you. his tongue swipes at your bottom lip, and his piercing clacks against your teeth, forcing a shiver down your spine. he smirks, that much you register, before bullying his tongue into your mouth, the hand between your legs matching.

too many sensations cloud your head — his hot tongue swirling around your own, forcing you to open up and taste each other, the metal ball on his tongue sticking against your teeth, and his fingers culling you into a head high. your eyes drift shut and you push your hips into his hands, all but grinding down.

mark lee might not have been a guitarist, but he sure did know how to use those hands of his. he sets back and licks his lips, letting out a shaky breath. the wet heat of you was drawing him in; he eases two fingers back inside until his knuckles pressed against your folds, and you sighed his name again. he was hard and aching now; listening to the soft pants that fell heavy as he thrust his fingers in and out. the hand that was threaded through your hair finds home on the sides of your throat, squeezing just enough to get your eyes fluttering open.

"whaddya doing sweetheart? sleeping?" he teases, his voice a drawn out purr in the quiet room, "i can't be that boring now, can i?"

when you try to shake your head no, this was far from boring, you find yourself stuck in his grip.

"maybe you want my cock instead?" marks eyes go soft, melting with the way you try to squeak out a response, "what was that?"

"p-please," you cry out hoarsely, his fingers finding that sweet spot again — but, only for the last time. just as fast as he was in you, he was pulling out.

"look at how wet you were for me," he groans, showing off your arousal that dripped from his fingers. he doesn't hesitate when he sticks them both between his lips, the most vulgar sound emanating from his throat, "you taste good as fuck."

warmth returns to your face at his remark, and it's only then that you realize your state. he was still covered head to toe in his stage outfit; metal chains and dark black alt pieces of clothing hung off his body, but you....you only had your top on. from the waist down, you were completely exposed.

mark seems to realize this too. "take this off for me?" he asks, fingering the strap of your top. "don't worry, i'll do the same." the grin you'd seen splashed across magazines and album covers lights up his face when you do as he asked. and true to his word, his shirt was on the ground in a matter of seconds - right next to yours. dark spills of ink swirl up and around his torso, nearly becoming a second shirt, but you see the muscles. the abs everyone goes crazy for, and with a tentative hand, you reach out to touch them.

"aw, don't be shy baby, i won't bite." he grabs your wrist and makes contact for you. another wave of arousal rushes down your spine when the hard lines of his stomach flex in response to your graze. "you like that, huh?" furiously nodding your head, he chuckles,

"alright, let me give you what you want," he says it like his cock wasn't nearly bursting from his pants, swiftly aching at the mere thought of sinking into you. his gaze darts from yours to the couch to the wall to the table shoved in the corner of the room. where did he want to fuck tonight... "come here," his hand tugs you away from the cinder block walls, over to the soft looking leather couch, "let me see you bend that pretty body over...." he purrs, a wide sweeping gesture to indicate that he knew exactly how he wanted you.

face down, ass up...wasn't that the saying?

and you don't mind, gleefully shimmying across the arm of the couch, cold leather nipping at your skin.

"fuck, man...look at you," you can't see him, but you bet his gaze is hungry again, soft, but visibly desperate, "you really are out of this world."

a chuckle passes your lips at the joke, and for a fleeting second you wonder if you weren't the first girl to hear the phrase. but the thought is swept clean from your mind once you hear his pants slipping on the ground, his metal pocket chains scraping the linoleum.

"stop taking your time and fuck me."

he cocks his head to the side...did he just hear that right? a harsh smack lands on your ass cheek, the throbbing, searing pain causing you to lurch forward and cry out. marks hand rubs over the spot immediately, trying to soothe the sting.

"now come on baby, i just need you to be patient with me." you mewl out an incoherent acknowledgment. "here," he grins, "is this what you want?"

a gasp is pulled from your chest at the feeling of him dragging the head of his cock between your folds. "mark please, fuck." slowly, he pushes into you. one hand guides himself, the other is lazily wrapped around your hip. but you can't even think of that right now, because he was filling you to the brim. you've never felt this type of stretch before. it was mind-numbingly delicious,"you're so big."

both of you share a shuddered breath of air when he pulls out and pushes back into you, "damn." he swats at your ass again, this time not bothering to rub his hand over the sting, "you just keep getting tighter...."

his eyes flutter close for a second, lost in the wet heat of you. he's never felt this before — the mutuality of getting off. every other time it's felt forced from the other end; the overdramatic moans were always a turn off but you... you take it like it's real. like it's truly the best cock you'd ever sat on.

mark loves that the most.

"feel good?" the question is drawn out, too focused on keeping his pace even and sharp so that you wouldn't go face first into the couch cushions. you babble out some sort of response that mark can't quiet understand, "words baby..use your words."

"so f-fucking good," you choke on a gasp, "oh god, please don't stop." each word feels like it's ripped from your throat as mark works behind you, thrusting so deep you're left on your tiptoes again.

mark lets out a dark chuckle, fingers digging into your side so he can keep leverage, "be careful what you pray for baby, the devil might hear." it's another musical reference, one that you catch immediately, but you're too cock drunk to form a coherent thought much less a sentence. he feels the way your pussy clenches at his words though, "you liked that, hm?"

you shake your head, arms stretching out in front of you to keep yourself from slipping further down the arm of the couch before a squeal is wrenched from your throat. "you're so deep!"

before he can tease you about going deeper, a loud buzzing sound goes off on the coffee table next to you. it's his phone, lit up with someones caller ID. your eyes are glazed over and blurry, too unfocused to see who the hell was interrupting this. but it didn't matter, because mark ignores it and keeps fucking into you — a little more enthusiastic than before. his fingers still dig into your waist, yet this time, they pull you back to meet his cock. essentially you were bouncing on him without having to do most of the work, "look at that ass bounce."

the buzzing finally stops, replaced with another harsh smack to your ass. you cry out in pain, quickly drowned out by a moan as mark swivels his hips so that he was hitting your sweet spot. white hot pleasure courses through your entire body, and you all but thrash against the leather. "almost there, fuck, keep going. gonna c-cum."

the words are like music to his ears. "just a little longer," mark typically had great stamina, but after the performance tonight, and the way your pussy was sucking him in right now, his willpower was melting away. he was edging himself within your walls at this very second. he needed release. "you're so fucking wet, i can't... oh fuck." his phone starts buzzing again, and this time he glances at the name flashing across the screen and groans, "be quiet okay baby? i need to take this."

furiously, mark jabs the green button on the screen of his phone, "what do you want." through gritted teeth, he keeps his pace, thrusting into your warm cunt. it's difficult, but you manage to stuff your fist in your mouth and bite down, stifling any sound that threatened to come out. hot electricity was still running through every nerve in your body, but as mark mindlessly slows to concentrate on not moaning into the phones receiver, it slowly dwindles.

"i'm..." he glances down at the way your waist curved in, the jiggle of your ass when his hips met yours, "i'm outside. why."

you can't hear who's on the other end of the line. maybe it was his manager, or another member of the band. the only thing you knew for certain was they wanted to know where the fuck he was at.

"don't you dare talk sideways to me." the warning in his voice nearly makes you moan out loud. this side of mark lee was something to marvel at. but you don't. you just push your hips backwards onto him.

a breath of air rushes past his lips, "shit." he mumbles.

"i wasn't-" he grits his teeth, "i wasn't cursing at you......because i dropped my cig on the ground, i don't know jaemin."

ah so it was na jaemin - drummer of parasocial. hot head. scandal starter. covered in more ink than you thought possible.

"okay..." mark sighs, his pace slowing, "okay, i'm coming....yeah whatever." he presses the end call button on the screen and tosses the phone on to the couch in front of you.

"baby..." he warns, now lazily fucking you, "i gotta go..."

"why?" you whine, hips pushing back against him in an attempt to get his pace started again. you so desperately wanted him to keep bullying his cock into you.

"they said the vans packed up... if i don't go now, they're gonna leave me behind." he pulls out and helps you flip over to face him, hands instinctively come up to cover your chest, "i'm sorry," he breathes.

"it's okay."

maybe you didn't get to orgasm, but mark lee between your thighs was enough of a treat. as long as he felt good, it didn't matter. so it doesn't irk you when he says, "i'm sorry this couldn't be more..i'm worn out from the show, and...." his voice trails off into a sheepish shrug, his wrist flicking towards his phone.

"i know." it wasn't your job to reassure him, but you knew what this was. what his life entailed, even if it was from an outsiders perspective.

mark sighs, settling back against the couch while he watches you hurriedly throw your clothes on. there's something different about you.

"i can walk you to your car if you want," he offered, his voice tinged with a mix of earnestness and hesitation. he knew he couldn't, not really. the risk of being seen outside the venue with a fan was far too great — jaemin learned that the hard way. but still, there was something about your presence, something that made him want to break the rules just a bit more.

you responded with a wry smile, "nah, i'm good. appreciate it though."

he returned the smile, though a hint of disappointment flickered across his features, swiftly masked by indifference. "alright then, take care."

as you turned to walk away, his gaze lingered, a mixture of longing and apprehension in his eyes. the echo of the performance still reverberated in the air, and the cacophony of the crowd faded into the background. the isolation that often accompanied the applause and adoration settled around him—a sense of detachment despite the proximity to his admirers; to you.

"hey, wait up!" his voice rings out, more desperate than he intends. you stop and turn back to him, a questioning look on your face. "here." he thrusts a piece of paper into your hand, his fingers brushing yours for a moment. in messy scrawl, a ten-digit number is scratched across the paper. he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, the stage persona melting away to reveal the vulnerability underneath. "call me when you get where you're headed."

you take the paper, feeling surprise and curiosity bloom in your chest. "sure, i will." a smirk tugs at the corners of your lips as you tuck the slip of paper into the pocket of your skirt, a secret kept close to your heart. "have a good night, rockstar."

his eyes meet yours, a silent exchange that speaks volumes. in that moment, no other words are needed to understand that this is a fleeting connection, a chapter in a story that will continue for him in different cities, with different faces. another show, another night, another girl.

another fake number.

A. NOTE: this can be read as a standalone, but it is also part of a bigger series i've yet to release. so if you like this one shot, please let me know! you can send in an ask, or comment, reblog, or like <3

TAGLIST: @peachjaem00 @mrkis @downtonbabyah @vangoes @cutiepeas @yujuvly @nuttie-nv-blog @seuomo @mrkleelvr @kazuhateez @chardonnayyyy @hyuckiegirlfriend @jwijii @meowniee @leep0ems @hibye02 @girlwholoveslpreppyattire

#nct dream smut #mark lee smut #nct mark lee x reader #mark lee x reader #nct mark lee smut #nct dream x reader #nct dream band au #nct dream fic #mark lee fic #nctpromptmemedone #nct dream mark

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erikatsu · 1 year

Note

slutty old man welt 🧐 😋 monch 😋

tw: fem!reader. [n]sfw. age gap (cuz welt's like 80 lmao). mention of masturbation (m). oral (m!receiving). reader refers to welt as "mr. yang". pussy job (sorta). clothed sex. creampie. a bit rushed but oh well. maybe a bit ooc but i tried my best :,)

note: i went from idc for welt to okay im simping for welt LMAO. i love slutty old guys sue me. also lala im so sorry, i got carried away

welt yang often thought himself to be an ethical man. he'd been taught responsibility from a young age, always tried to do the right thing. at least he did until he met you. you'd caught his eye, but he knew better than to get involved with someone so young. however, the more he got to know you, the more he couldn't help himself.

it started out as looking at you for a little too long, knowing that he shouldn't. it's wrong the way his eyes linger as he watches you walk away, and you don't even realize you have his complete and undivided attention with your back turned to him. he knew that it wasn't okay, that he was old enough to be your grandfather even if physically he looked old enough to be your dad.

he didn't know when the lines began to blur– his inappropriate attraction to you turning into something much more than that– and he didn't know if it would ever go away. then again, welt wasn't even sure that he wanted it to. there was no harm in having a crush, especially if he didn't act on it. but, that was just wishful thinking– something he told him himself to rationalize his thoughts and feelings.

unfortunately for him, it got worse as time went on and those thoughts he tried to keep at bay were crossing his mind more often. and eventually, he stopped trying to hold them back all together. he stopped feeling guilty for thinking them too. so long as he wasn't trying to pursue you, he could maintain his integrity. even if at times he had to leave the room due to this. it's not as if it were entirely his fault. after all, welt had the power of his imagination.

every time you paraded around in shorts, he couldn't help but try to picture what you had on underneath them– was it lace, or silk, or perhaps nothing at all? he couldn't help himself when he'd see you had a sucker in your mouth, imagining what it would be like if it was your tongue swirling around the tip of his cock instead. that imagination always led him to where he is right now, sitting at his desk in his room with his head tilted back as he fisted his cock to the thought of you.

it wasn't an uncommon occurrence for him. although, you walking in on him just as your name almost fell from his lips was. a gasp fell from your mouth, one that would sound even prettier if he was the reason behind it, and he tried to react quick enough so you couldn't see what he was doing. but, it was too late.

you could see the embarrassment painting his cheeks a bright pink, and instead of turning around like you should have, you stayed. it surprised him when you asked, "mr. yang... do you need some help?"

of all the scenarios he imagined, this certainly was not one of them.

he cleared his throat, about to shake his head. not that he didn't want it, because he did. he did and the thought of it becoming a reality had him throbbing. but what kind of man would he be if he took advantage of your kindness? if he crossed that fine line? words, however, seemed to fail him when he went to speak.

its not as if you were being kind. you had also taken an interest in him– maybe not to the extent he did– and the curiosity and excitement were definitely there. you weren't quite sure what exactly it was about him, but he'd drawn you in without even trying. and the way he hesitated to answer told you what you already knew. he was interested, but he had his morals.

it wasn't until you approached and knelt in front of him that he let them all fly out the window. your hand replaced his, gentle yet firm. he let out a shaky breath, eyes closing before you took him in your mouth. he couldn't help the noise that escaped him, one of the scenarios he imagined finally playing out in real life.

it was ten times better than what went through his head.

he could tell you were enjoying how much of a mess he became so easily– purposely taking your time going down before coming up and teasingly snaking your tongue along his pink tip. you couldn't help but wonder just how long it had been since the last time a woman had touched him like this, seeing how he was already so close to the edge. possibly years, you figured as your free hand came up to cup his balls, giving them a light squeeze. perhaps even longer, you concluded upon hearing the groan that escaped him.

you pulled away, leaving your hand where it was, still toying with him as you looked up at him, "mr. yang, just how long has it been since someone properly took care of you?"

too long, he wanted to say. but his mind was overran by all the sensations he was feeling due to you. luckily, you were sharp and your assumptions were correct. you hummed to yourself before standing, his eyes flying open once your touch was gone. imagine his surprise when he saw you sliding out of those cotton shorts you always loved to wear.

he couldn't believe how one person left him utterly speechless, unable to process what was about to happen as you sat in his lap. he watched as your eyes left his, briefly glancing down to his lips. almost as if you were hesitant to make another move. although he couldn't muster the courage to speak, he could certainly pull you closer and press his lips against yours with ease.

his hands flew down to your hips, rocking you against his length. you whimpered against his mouth, already aching for him. you definitely didn't need the warm up– his reactions alone were enough to get you going– yet you allowed yourself to enjoy it for the moment. the two of you crossed a line there was no coming back from, and the possibility of this being the only time had the both of you engrossed in the other. trying to memorize the way you two fit together as if you were puzzle pieces.

the thought of this being the only time flipped some kind of switch in his mind, his hands moving to your thighs before standing up and taking you with him. he took just a couple of steps before lying you down on his bed, eagerly slipping out of his before hovering over top of you. his eyes searched yours for any sign of apprehension or nervousness. but he found none. a simple nod of your head was all it took to have him pushing one of your legs back and lining himself up with your entrance.

as he sank into you, he once again caught you by the mouth. you whined as he slowly stretched you out, trying to keep quiet so you didn't catch the unwanted attention of the others. the express had thin walls, and everyone throughout the hall would hear you if they were in their rooms.

"let it out," he muttered, rolling his hips with a slow steady rhythm, allowing you to adjust to him. "dont get shy now."

it didn't seem to be an option, using that moment to fully bottom out inside you. your back arched and a choked noise left your mouth. he did this a few times– keeping his thrusts short yet deep– picking up his pace until your whines and whimpers turned into moans. you could feel your toes curl as the tip of his cock lightly kissed that sweet spot, finally crying out, "mr. yang. r-right there."

he thought the two of you were now well past formalities, but he couldn't help but groan that escaped him at your use of "mr. yang". it had him rutting quicker, and with a bit more force. you were panting, clinging to him while squeezed your eyes shut. his hips were moving at an alarming rate as you dug your fingers into his skin, clenching around him as you cried out. a knot quickly built up in your stomach, releasing just as quickly as it came.

cursed left his mouth as you tightened around him, excited moans leaving you and a euphoric sensation sweeping over your body leaving you a shaking mess underneath him. he hadn't even heard his warning that he was going to cum too, but you didn't seem phased when he pushed into you with one final thrust.

you tried to catch your breath, staring up at him through your lashes. he was still hard, cock twitching inside you as he also tried to cool down. you briefly bit down on your lip, unable to stop yourself from asking, "are you up for another round, mr. yang?"

TAGS: @dottores @dxlucs @mxnjiros @suyacho

#honkai star rail smut #hsr smut #welt x reader #welt yang x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you

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midniiights-garden · 4 months

Text

A Porcelain Doll and a Blade - Mizu x Fem!Reader

Summary: It's cliché, really. A pretty little thing like you with a monster. A classic Beauty and the Beast scenario. But what if the Beauty is not all that fragile and what if the Beast isn't as cruel? Oh well, still cliché.

(A/N: This is probably gonna be multiple parts!! Idk how many parts but there will be more than one. Also the reader is implied to be South-east Asian!!)

TWs!!: Canon typical violence, Mentions of smoking and alcohol, Blood and gore, Canon and period typical misogyny.

It's cold outside, it always seems to be anyways.

The young woman looks around her, taking in her surroundings, checking for something. What that thing was no one knew but her. She was inconspicious in terms of appearance. Her skin was on the tan side, but not anything that would be odd for most of the rice farmers. She could be Japanese for all they knew.

She, you, heads into a nearby tavern seeking shelter. You're cold, unused to such weather. The concept of snow confused you. Crystals? Falling from the sky? What a strange notion. You enter the tavern, sighing happily as the heat from the fireplace within hits you like a wave. It's not nearly as warm as what you are used to, but it's much better than the bitter cold of the outside.

Your feet take you to the bar, seating yourself at one of the barstools. The men stare at you- whether it's because they desire you or because it's odd that a woman enter a tavern was unclear. You try to call over the bar keeper who raises an eyebrow at your age. You're young, early twenties. Couldn't be older than 26. You order a drink, one that gets the bar keeper to raise an eyebrow.

"...Where's your husband?" The man asks gruffly.

You huff. Now you're cold, irritated and without a drink. You reply that you have none. What you didn't say was that you weren't interested in having a male lover anyways.

The man grunts in disapproval. "No husband? Really? So what are you then, a whore?"

It was common for the courtesans of the Red Light to drink. Most drank, in fact. Other women tended to only drink in the company of family. The 'high class' women that was. The desireable little dolls most men wanted.

His words made you scowl, your features twisting in clear distaste. All you do is get up, leaving the tavern in an attempt to fuel your need to retaliate physically. Oh, how you itched for a barfight.

A young man enters the scene. Well, not truly a man. It's Mizu. Her haori and cloak are wrapped tightly around her form as she attempts to warm herself, keep herself stable in a bitter enviornment. You pass her as she heads towards the tavern, your expression still as dark and bitter as ever as you collide.

"...sorry," you mutter, bowing politely.

Mizu merely nods, bowing in return before returning her sights to the tavern. It was getting fucking cold out here.

Later that evening you are forced to return to that godforsaken tavern. The town was small, leaving you no other option. You didn't feel like having to play cutesy in order to get into someone's home. So, you head back, a scowl ever prominent on your face as you tread back into the establishment. The bar keep raises an eyebrow at you once more, the gesture earning him a pointed glare.

"I need a room for one," you mutter, trying your best to keep the flare of your temper under control.

"It's a shared dorm," the keeper explains with another grunt. "You willing to stay with a stranger?"

You sigh, irritated even more. "Yes," you hiss. "Please, just let me pay and let me get to rest."

The man rolls his eyes but obliges, allowing me to pay him. Once the transaction was done you turn, eager to just get to bed. Unfortunately the bar keeper just had to open his mouth one last time.

"You'd be a lot prettier if you kept quiet."

You are unable to reply. At least verbally. Any response to that comment would have ended in a fist fight which would end in a murder. And it certainly wouldn't be you that would die. So you trudge into the shared dorm, fists clenched so tightly your knuckles turned white and your nails dug into your palms.

You slam open the door to the shared dorms not realising another person was in there.

"Hey, what the fuck-?!" A voice says, clearly annoyed.

You recognize the voice. It's Mizu, the stranger you bumped into earlier. You sigh, bowing once more.

"My apologies..." you murmur. "I didn't realise anyone else was in here. I should have been more considerate."

Mizu raises her eyebrow, instantly recognizing the oddly pissed of girl she had bumped into. Her eyes scanned your form. You were pretty, beautiful. Like a little doll that girls would play with. The fact that you were alone made her raise an eyebrow. Despite her thoughts she decided to remain silent.

"I see... just, don't do it again," she replies bluntly, turning to her side to get some rest.

You nod, taking her acceptance and getting ready for bed in turn. You just couldn't shake the anger that those words had caused me. Irritated, you pull out a cigar- stolen, not bought- and lit it. You take a few puffs before Mizu takes notice, raising her eyebrow.

"...you smoke?" She asks, skepticisim and wariness in her tone.

"Yes. Did any of it accidentally get to you?" You reply, exhaling the smoke outside the window. Mizu remains silent for a short while before reply.

"Why do you smoke that shit? It's bad for you. Addictive and ruins you," she mutters.

You roll her eyes at her comment. "I'm stressed," you reply.

Mizu scoffs, rolling her eyes in return. "I noticed that," she huffs. "Now are you going to keep having a stuck up attitude? I don't like dealing with brats."

Considering that you that she was a man this was not a great statement. You sneer, turning to face her.

"Oh, and you think you're so much better? What gives you the right to boss me around? Because you're a big strong man?" You ask bitterly, getting close to loosing your temper. "Well you can shove that strength right up your damn ass. I don't answer to you."

With that you go silent, glaring out into the night sky.

Mizu is taken aback by your hostility. Well, actually, it wasn't the hostility as much as your willingness to belittle a person you saw as a man. Most women would not take that chance. You, on the other hand, seemed to give zero shits. While it annoyed her it also made her respect you a little. No matter how rudely you had gone about it.

So, instead of reply Mizu simply turns over and goes to bed. She could already tell you'd be a hell of a lot to deal with and she was already tired. Perhaps the morning would uncover more things about the both of you.

#mizu blue eye samurai #i love women #blue eye samurai #i love fictional characters #wlw #mizu #mizu x reader #mizu come home the kids miss you #mizu x you #x reader

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aryxchse · 1 month

Note

hello!

i see ur requests are open so i have one (potentially) if ur willing to write it!!

yk how we get some glimpses into a dark percy jackson in the HoO series when he’s protecting annabeth… what if we got some of that for jason grace? potentially like the reader, she’s threatened by a minor god or monster or anything, so jason kinda goes unhinged? maybe like, he takes the air out of the opposing party’s lungs or anything else kinda unhinged?

i hope any of this makes sense lol thank uuuuu

🫶🫶🫶

dangerous storms / jason grace x female! reader.

a / n : I WAS THINKING THE EXACT SAME THING BECAUSE WHY THIS MAN HASN'T BEND SOMEONES OXYGEN ALREADY???

warnings : jason grace's angry self, airbending type of shit, cursing, DANGEROUS JASON I REPEAT DANGEROUS JASON!!

jason grace was a calm man.

he was rational, he would think before he act and he never made a move with his feelings. call it him being roman, or his father being literally the king of the gods, or maybe him growing up with a wolf raising him. jason grace was always the type to show his powers through strategic thinking.

well, everyone has boundries right?

he had a thin line in between destroying one thing or everything when it camed to you. if you're fine, then no one has to fear for anything. if you're okay, safe and healthy, no one has to panic.

but if it's the other way, than everyone should pray. even the non-believers. because jason grace can be scary and intimidating when he wants to. and he's so damn good at it.

things weren't supposed to go this way. you weren't supposed to get kidnapped by some giant. the plan wasn't this way, then why, why we're you in danger?

jason stopped being rational. his brain only said 'why, why, why' for like, an hour now. jason wasn't thinking straight. jason wasn't thinking.

"jason, we're gonna save her," piper tried to charmspeak him, but it didn't worked. the girl who put gaia back in sleep, couldn't calm down the son of jupiter.

percy jackson, who was feared by most monsters, demigods and even gods, was afraid how jason acted at the moment. but he didn't judged, he knew he would act the exact same way if something happened to annabeth. which, he did.

he was the only one who would go down with him if he asked. boundries we're boundries, and percy knew that very well.

"jason, we can make a plan." piper tried again. she was trying from the moment they got you. but it wasn't working and she started to get anxious.

"yeah, man. she's strong, she could be on her way back here even-" leo tried his best too. he couldn't recognise his best friend right now. he should've been like percy, who wasn't judging jason's madness and ready to go down with him. but he couldn't—it was like leo meeting jason for the first time, again.

"i already have a fucking plan." jason snapped, but he was quiet. which, it didn't help with the gang's fear. "and you guys are not involved."

"you sure?" percy asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. "my hands been itchy these days, and riptide is no better."

jason wanted to smile, but his situation didn't allowed. instead, he softened his gaze, just a bit. "thanks, but i'll handle it myself. it's my war now."

percy nodded, giving a look at the team. 'if someone wants to stop him, they have to go through me.'

"go get em', tiger." he joked. and jason flied away, not answering.

‎ ⚡️

you would fight for your life if you weren't hanging up by the chains on your wrists. your feet we're dangling in the air, and arms hurting from carrying all your weight. the sick giants put some fancy greek dress on you, making your hair prettier while you were unconscious.

the giant fucking fell in love with you, and it certainly did not liked jason.

jason. we're was he? what happened to him?

well, you we're about to find out.

"oh dear," the ugly beast purred, his big hands finding your tiny body. you disgusted, squirming under his touch to get away. but it was no use.

"you'll be all mine once i make the potion." he rambled, drool on his chin that showed you how hungry he was for you.

"in your fucking dreams." you spat, eyes shooting daggers. you we're jason's girl, and your own person, most importantly. "i'm already taken."

the giant growled, mixing the sound with his sick laugh. "that jupiter boy? he got nothing compared to me sweetheart!" he yelled and his voice echoed through the big cave. where we're you, even? "he has to kill me to get you!"

"be careful what you wish for." the sound made you melt instantly. how was he able to find you? well, you didn't cared to be honest. he was here.

jason's eyes we're nothing like before. it was like his own eyes had their storms and thunders. one part of you we're amazed, while the other got scared. you knew he wouldn't even touch you if it ever hurt you, but you we're scared for him. not from him. for him doing something he'll regret for the rest of his life in order to protect you.

but, jason seemed to not give a damn.

"you tiny little demigod! you have no chance against me, you don't even have a god next to you to kill me!" he yelled, leaving you dangling in the air again. you wanted to call jason's name, but your voice muffled through the lightning.

"i don't fucking need a god," jason hissed, taking position. "i'll send you tartarus myself."

it all happened quickly. jason was so fast, unlike the big giant trying to capture and kill him. he was like a lightning himself, moving in light speed. there was a blonde thing moving, and you couldn't understand if it was his hair or sword. also there was little lightning sparkles that helped you figure him better.

then, the next thing you knew, jason was on top of the beast's face. he quickly called a lightning before stabbing his sword into the giants eye. it growled, but didn't falled.

"this is what you take for hurting my girl. my loved ones." jason said, his free hand going up in the air. you thought he was gonna make the giant eat some lightning, but it didn't go that way.

"remember my name in tartarus," he flied up again, taking a large air with him. the beast suddenly started to choke, holding it's neck desperately. "and make sure your friends does too."

it was the last thing giant heard before falling down, his oxygen flying in the air and dissapearing. jason immediatly flied towards you, cutting your chainst and holding you by the waist before you fall.

"jason," you breathed out, crying. you couldn't believe what you just have witnesses, but you figured it was the best to not mention. you we're happy that you we're safe now, in his arms.

"baby," he panted, hugging you so tight. you guys slowly landed on the ground, jason still clinging on you. "thank gods you're alive."

"i got scared," you admitted. normally, you would rather die than admit someone you're scare. but it was your jason, who could you tell if you're not gonna tell him? "he was gonna- jason, he was gonna make me one of them."

"shh baby it's okay," he cupped your face, his own tears matching you. but he had a smile, a smile that appeared once you we're in his arms. "i'm here. no one's touching you ever again okay? i'm here." he gently wiped your tears away, kissing you after.

you relaxed the moment your lips met, but it wasn't very long until you both heard footsteps again. jason quickly picked you up in bridal style, flying away from the little crack of the cave.

later that day, you both layed together in his quarters at argo ii. everyone decided that they shouldn't ask questions, like they didn't asked percy and annabeth after they got back from the tartarus.

even coach hedge let you snuggle eachother, because he saw how hurt jason was. he needed you for his own sake, to stay sane.

jason was the child of storm after all, he knew how to be scary when he wanted to. he kept it all inside when you we're near and safe. but if something slightly happened to you, he knew how to show them real power.

#DARK JASON MY LOVE #stop making him like he's some weak airbender rick #HES THE CHILD OF ZEUS FOR GODS SAKE #KING OF THE GODS HELLO #percy jackson #jason grace x y/n #jason grace x you #jason grace headcanon #jason grace imagine #jason grace pjo #jason grace #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the heroes of olympus #percy jackson series #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson imagine

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lets-just-daydream · 8 months

Note

Hello! If it’s not too much trouble I would love to request an Astarion x reader. Maybe just after he has confessed his plan that fell apart and his feelings for Tav, Gale tries to show her a magic trick. A lot of us have experienced this playing the game, but Tav doesn’t really understand what he’s getting at so she agrees. Then ensues protective and angst and hurt/comfort.

WE LOVE A JEALOUS KING (well, I do anyway)

I took some liberties with the confession for ✨funsies✨

It had been a LONG day of checking through Moonrise Towers. You met some very interesting people but now you were settled in camp and ready for a feed and some sleep.

You sat outside your tent, pulling your boots off and stretching as you looked around. You had certainly camped in prettier places but dark, dingy and safe was better than nothing. Your eyes landed on Astarion who was pacing back and forth in front of his tent, looking uncharacteristically stressed. You watched as he stood up straight, gave himself a resolute nod and turned in the direction of your tent. His eyes widened when he saw you were already looking his way and he gave you a nervous smile. You returned his smile with a blush and as you were about to look away, he beckoned you over with a wave.

You wondered what he wanted to talk about. Maybe he wanted to talk about the odd drow woman who wanted him to bite her. You stood with a shudder as you recalled him saying that her blood smelled foul. Admittedly, the potion she offered would have been incredibly useful but you'd rather not have it at all and defend Astarion's decision instead.

You approached him and he gave you a smile while he greeted you. "I wanted to thank you for earlier," he began. "With that vile drow."

"Oh, it was nothing at all," you replied. "I'm sorry she kept asking and wouldn't take your no as an answer."

"Yes it was upsetting at the time and… I'd gotten so used to doing what I was told without a care for what I wanted. It was nice to even be able to say no. And… I'm grateful that you stuck up for me. You didn't have to do that. I know that potion would have been worth a lot."

You smiled and stepped forward, shaking your head slightly. "Nothing is ever worth you doing something you don't want to do. I'll never ask you to do that."

Astarion sighed. Gods you were so nice. Why were you so nice to him? This is why his whole plan fell apart in the first place - because you "genuinely cared about him" or whatever. Well now the stupid feeling was becoming mutual and he wanted to tell you.

"Anyway, there's another reason I asked you over," Astarion said, his voice slightly hushed as he swept his gaze over the camp.

The rest of your companions were either at their own tents or chatting around the fire. He noticed that Gale was watching the two of you intently and it took all of Astarion's self-control not to sneer at him. Nosey bastard.

You waited patiently as Astarion got his thoughts together. It was nerve wracking - he'd never done this before! And really, he didn't know how you were going to take the initial news that he had been manipulating you. You might slap him. He'd probably deserve it, he thought.

"Anyway, I suppose I should start from the beginning. At first…" He hesitated, looking down at your smiling face. Oh, you were so pretty. "I-I had this plan, okay. It was out of pure self-preservation, nothing personal of course. I just needed to get you on my side and sleeping with you, calling you cute names and all of that nonsense is how I'm used to getting my way."

Astarion watched as your face fell, you looked down at the ground and he swore you were starting to tear up. He reached out for your arm and drew your attention again..

"But then I got to know you, fought by your side and stood by your decisions whether I agreed with them or not. And that's when my little plan fell apart. I've grown genuine feelings for you," Astarion mumbled the last part as he pulled his hand back.

You looked up at him and gasped lightly. "Are you serious?"

He nodded. "Using sex and your feelings as a way to manipulate you was awful, and it's a poor excuse but it's… all I knew. Two hundred years of instinct that I'm now trying to shake, you showed me that there's more to it than that. But I understand if this is where you draw the line."

Astarion gave you a little pout and you felt like your heart could burst out of your chest. You stepped forward and pulled him into a hug, nuzzling your face into his cold chest. He stood there for a moment, not really even sure what to do. He hadn't felt a real hug since turning and this felt so nice. He wrapped his arms around you and pressed his cheek to the crown of your head. You let him hold on for as long as he needed and when he eventually let go, you saw the sweetest smile on his face, fangs bared and laugh lines deep. You were so smitten with this man.

"I care about you, Astarion," you said just above a whisper. "And I know confessing this took a lot of courage."

His smile stayed and he turned slightly giddy. "I'm so… happy to hear you say that. I've never done anything like this before, this is all so new to me and I don't know what comes next, but this is nice. This is what I want," he breathed.

You gave him a smile and he reached his hand out to you, you placed your hand in his and his stepped forward, leaning his face down but someone cleared their throat behind you.

You jumped slightly and Astarion looked at the intruder behind you, his eyes turning from soft into a hard glare.

"What do you want, boot muncher?" Astarion asked.

You turned around and saw Gale standing there, arms crossed as he brushed the snide comment off. "I need to talk to our friend, here."

You felt Astarion's grip on your hand tighten but you looked up at him with a soft smile and he nodded, letting your hand go. You loathed to leave him after having such a deep moment but you had other friends who also needed your help.

"I'll be right back," you whispered before following Gale over to his tent.

You stood there as he clapped his hands together with a grin on his face. "I've been meaning to ask how much you know about the Weave."

"The Weave? Just that it's linked to magic," you replied, raising a brow.

"It’s an incredible feeling and I just learned how to share it, if you want to feel the magic of the Weave,” Gale said, his voice dropping.

You felt eyes boring into your back and you glanced over at Astarion who held a book in hand but was staring at you intently before averting his eyes back down to the page.

“Well?” Gale asked, pulling your attention back to him.

“Sounds like fun,” you said with a shrug and grin.

Gale smiled back at you and straightened his back, telling you to do as he did. You watched his hands intently as he did a quick and smooth flourish that caused purple sparks to fly in front of you.

You stared at the space where the sparks disappeared and then gazed back at Gale’s hands, recalling his movements as you copied them as best as you could remember. Purple sparks also flew out in front of you and you laughed, hardly believing you pulled it off. Your body felt like a warm blanket had been wrapped around you and you glanced up at Gale who was already grinning down at you.

“Nice work,” he praised. “Now repeat after me and picture harmony…”

He said some magic words slowly so you could follow, which you did and tried to picture what harmony even was. Your mind wandered to Astarion and the calm you’d felt when you shared a hug not long ago. Soft, warm magic suddenly erupted around you and you let out a half sigh, half giggle that you had done it! Gale looked down at you with a smile and you felt a shift in the energy surrounding you when your eyes met. He stepped closer to you and reached to cup your cheek in his hand.

At that movement you gasped slightly and stepped back, the magic around you falling as you were embraced by the cool breeze of the night once again.

“Oh, I… I see,” Gale murmured. “I misunderstood, I thought…”

You offered him a sympathetic look and bit your lip. You did feel a little bad but you just didn’t feel that way about him. You turned once again to Astarion but he wasn’t looking at you, he was staring daggers into Gale, his hands and jaw clenched. This was certainly a ‘if looks could kill’ moment and you rubbed Gale’s arm comfortingly before he excused himself into his tent.

Your stomach twisted uncomfortably as you turned away from his tent to approach Astarion’s but he was already stalking over to you. He wrapped his slender fingers around your arm, pulling you away from Gale’s tent, a scowl on his face.

“Sleazy, little good for nothing…” Astarion fumed as the pair of you made it back to his tent and stepped inside. “What was that?!”

You looked up at Astarion’s stern face and shrunk back into yourself slightly. “I- I don’t know he was teaching me how to use magic and then, well you saw what happened.”

“I knew he was up to no good when he came by.”

“Well, anyway,” you said. “I rejected him. So you don’t have to worry.”

Astarion sighed and rubbed your arm, his other arm coming to wrap around your waist. “It’s not you I’m worried about,” he whispered.

“Are you okay?” You asked.

You nodded. You could understand, he had just bared his feelings for you and someone else had made a move on you only moments later. You each let out a soft sigh and Astarion leaned down and touched his nose against yours, inhaling your scent and rubbing against your skin softly. You leaned up and gave him a soft kiss, his lips pressing harder against yours as his eyes slipped closed.

His grip around your waist tightened and you scrunched your hands into his shirt, a soft moan escaping your throat. You could spend forever pressed against his body like this but he eventually pulled back, and gazed at you with dilated pupils. His expression seemed like he was at odds with himself. He wanted to claim you as his, right then and there on the floor of his tent - to have you as he wanted because you were his heart’s desire. But on the other hand it was still so new to be vulnerable and he didn’t know if this was the right thing to do. If there even was a “right” and “wrong” way of navigating this.

Astarion’s hand slipped from your arm down to your hand and he laced his fingers between yours. “This is just so new to me I don’t know what’s normal… what I’m doing,” he said softly.

You laughed softly and stroked his hand with your thumb. “Just do whatever feels right. You’re your own person and I care so much about you,” you said. “We can take this as slow as you need us to.”

Astarion let out a sigh of relief and pulled you against him in an embrace. He truly believed he would never get enough of feeling your body pressed against his.”Would you like to spend the night with me?”

“Of course,” you breathed, stepping back and sitting on his bedroll. You pulled him down with you and he huffed out a laugh as he landed next to you. You recalled the day you had and you smiled, remembering Astarion’s confession and then your heart dropped as you remembered the moment you shared with Gale and how utterly dejected he was. You hoped it hadn’t impacted your friendship too badly and you certainly hoped he would leave the camp because of it.

Astarion sensed your change in mood and asked you what was wrong.

“I’m just worried about Gale,” you said.

Astarion’s tone hardened. “What about him? He’ll be fine.”

You sighed as you hoped Astarion was right.

“Now, what do I need to do to get him off your mind and get me into it?” Astarion asked as he laid you back and cradled you in his arms.

“Nothing,” you said with a slight laugh. “Earlier, he asked me to picture harmony and damned if I knew what the hell that meant. But then I started thinking about you and that’s when you saw that burst of magic.”

“Really?” Astarion asked, peering down at you.

You nodded your head and he pulled you into his chest, his face in your hair. “So don’t worry, you’re already on my mind.”

#red writes #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion

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etfrin · 8 months

Text

The demon I cling too

Ghostface&Virgin!Ethan Landry x female!Reader

Summary - he had killed them off one by one in the warehouse. You weren't supposed to be there that night, you certainly weren't supposed to flirt with him while he was covered in blood and trying to get rid of evidence. He should have killed you instead he takes you to his dorm.

Warning - NSFW (P in V sex, mentions of blood and murder, virgin Ethan just murdered like a shit ton of people and he still has no idea how to have sex, unprotected sex, creampie, loss of virginity, first times, riding)

You were just another student attending the university Ethan was enrolled in. You weren't supposed at the warehouse that night, the smell of blood in the air and annoying screams echoing in the warehouse.

You just wanted a walk. And the warehouse looked cool. It was cool enough to have murders happening too with you as the sole witness.

And now here you are. In the dorm of the infamous killer, Ghostface. Also known as Ethan Landry.

"Wow," you mutter, sitting on the couch. Ethan was kind enough to give you a glass of water. You sip it without a thought. "I... did you just bring me here as an alibi?" You asked, not sure if your pathetic attempt at flirting in the warehouse worked.

He raised his eyebrows, he sat down in front of you. "It was more of a..." his eyes flicker to your body, making you feel hot under that heavy lustful gaze. He didn't bother finishing the sentence. Too lost in eye fucking you instead.

"What do you think you'll enjoy more," You asked, "Fucking me or the killing you just finished?" Ethan's gaze snaps back at you. His face flushed in a pretty red. Prettier than blood or roses. You let out a grin as he simply gaped at you.

You stand up from your seat to straddle him. Fisting the clean t-shirt he was wearing to pull him closer to you. Your lips are mere inches apart.

"What are you..." you begin to tease him, "a virgin?" "Yeah," he replies, his hands now resting on your hips. You felt surprised, killer or not, he was handsome.

You didn't let it show though instead, you pressed your lips to his chapped ones. The sloppy kiss turns you on just as much as one with finesse would.

The kiss turned even more messy with time. Ethan picks you up with ease. The fact he lifted you so easily made your arousal pool. Your panties getting wet. He places you on his bed with him on top.

"Can I?" He asked, his eyes blown wide with desire. You nod. Both of you undress quickly. His body had some bruises from earlier. You frown at the sight.

You pushed him down on the bed, making sure every purple and red bruise was being kissed by you until you reach below his hips and near his cock. The tip of it was a pretty red, the slit of it letting out some pre.

Your eyes flicker at him. He was such a mess of heavy breaths and parted lips with drool on the corner. You lick the pre of his slit and relish at his reaction. His hips thrusting the air, his fingers curled up in the sheets and his eyes closed shut at the feeling. Cute, you think.

You get on top of him, lining up his dick onto your cunt. "Look at me," you whispered. You couldn't help but enjoy that a murderer was such a big mess just by you. He flutters his eyes open. He moans at the sight. If you were to move down, he would go in.

"Please, please," he whispers. You smirk, "Please what?" "Sweetheart, please, fuck, rid- ride me, please," he whines.

Deciding to have mercy on him, you slowly go down on him. Inch by inch, your pussy squeezing on his dick with each movement. He presses his palm on his lips muffling his groan of pleasure when his cock was fully inside you throbbing and leaking.

A part of you expected him to cum immediately, but he didn't. You begin to move your hips slowly at first. Trying to get used to his length. His tip pressed against your spot no matter what. And it felt so damn good.

His free hand goes to your hip and squeezes it. As if trying to encourage you to ride him, as if he could take it without cumming like a teenager.

"I want to hear you," you said, "I'll ride you like a proper slut if you let me hear your pretty sounds, Ethan."

You could feel the twitch of his dick in your cunt by your words. He removes the palm. He lets out a whimper, "Please."

"Please, please," he whines, his hips rutting in, making you gasp and see white. "Fuck," you moan, his hand now holding your hips, keeping you firmly in place. He pounded into you, groaning with each thrust. You were used like you were just a fleshlight for this man. You loved it.

You loved how sloppy yet deep the thrusts were. How much he was leaking inside and how wet he made you. He changed the position so now you were below him. He held your hands above your head as he kept thrusting in.

You moan as his pace gets even sloppier but still just as deep. His tip grazed your G-spot repeatedly. You squeeze his hands as your walls clenched around his cock.

"Fuck, fuck," you curse, "fu-" Your walls begin to clench down harder on his cock. He lets out a choked moan, his head falling onto your shoulder. He begins to cum as soon as you do. He fucks his cum into you as both of you ride out your highs.

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megistusdiary · 1 month

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Need cowgirl arlecchino 💳💳💳

Save a horse ride a what??????

-🩸

i LOVE cowgirl arlecchino. i could think about her for hours. it reminds me of those posts i sent you 😁

https://www.instagram.com/p/C5FH1fpsSzG/?igsh=MWY5bGNwbWl3bG5oag==

(for anyone interested)

cowgirl arlecchino is obviously an outlaw of sorts. she's a lone ranger, but she's well-known for stopping by random towns, clearing out their taverns, bedding some pretty girls, and going on her way

somewhere along the way, she meets you. you're certainly easy on the eyes, complete with a pretty dress and a prettier smile. she approaches you with more charm than usual, and she finds she likes your smile even better when she's the reason for it.

once she gets to know you better, she finds out you long for adventure, for thrill, and she's smitten. a few gun-shooting lessons and a wardrobe change, and you find yourself accompanying her on her journey.

everyone knows you're her pretty little "damsel," or so they call you. dragged along to different towns, they think it's cute she's given you your very own cowgirl hat and gun.

it's not so cute when they piss arle off, and suddenly that little gun is pointed in their faces as you steal their top-shelf liquor!

ever since you came with her, she doesn't find herself seeking any excess companionship. why, she's got everything she needs and more all in a cute little dolled-up package.

(nsfw utc)

she likes it best when she takes you by the fire at night. she wants you bouncing on her cock, completely nude and out in the open, the flames reflecting off your eyes.

her hands dig bruises into your hips as she uses you like a toy, dragging you up and down. she lets you sink down further, a hand sliding up your exposed body to lightly squeeze around your throat.

she calls you her little slut, feeling you bounce on her at your own pace, pretty pussy fluttering around her cock as her head tilts back with a low chuckle.

save a horse, ride a cowgirl, everyone.

#genshin smut #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader smut #fem reader #genshin wlw #transfem character #arlecchino x reader #genshin arlecchino #arlecchino genshin #arlecchino #arlecchino smut #arlecchino x you #💌─𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘭! ༊*·˚#💐─𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 #🩸─ 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯˚୨୧˚⋆#🪷─𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴 `♡´

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nc-vb · 9 months

Text

𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐬, 𝐢 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐞 & 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐞

sfw, the boy's definitely an over-thinker. not beta-ed oops.

Dan Heng's starting to think you have a staring problem.

This is... a new discovery of his, or, at the very least, a new habit of yours. Who knows how long it's been going on? Certainly, not him. But now that he just so happened to catch you looking his way, a little more focused, a little more intensely, he's... a little self-conscious.

For one, why him? Surely, there isn't anything on his face, not for any of the time he'd caught you. You or one of the others would have mentioned it, anyhow, especially March 7th.

Is it because... he looks different now? Is it because he dons the appearance of another? Is it unsightly to you? Are you upset that he didn't tell any of you, but especially you?

At least you aren't glaring at him, or even completely looking in the other direction away from him whenever your eyes met (unlike a certain grey-haired someone). At this point in your acquaintanceship with each other, he's not sure he can handle the anxiety that would come out of both of you ignoring him.

It unnerves him, and whether it's a good or a bad type of unnerving, he's not quite sure yet. It makes him sweat a little beneath his already-lightened clothing, though, and on his neck behind his long hair; makes his heart race a little faster.

Why? He wishes you'd tell him first, so he wouldn't have to approach you for an answer. Why? He wishes you weren't looking for an excuse to walk away from him when you see him approaching, like you aren't internally panicking (and quite too obviously, externally) when he stops before you. Why?

"So?" he says. You barely flinch, but your expression twists into a bit of a grimace, and he frowns.

Please.

"So... what?" you mumble, gaze firmly averted toward your own feet.

Please. Be on my side.

"The... looks... you've been giving me this whole time," he starts. "It's just... I'd like to know why."

Don't you avoid me, too.

"O-Oh." You clear your throat and press your shoulders back to raise your head, but you still don't meet his eye. "I... well... I-It's nothing bad, if that's what you're worried about."

"Then, can you tell me what it is?" he asks, barely a second away from pleading with you if you decline.

You huff, not irritably, but as if nervous, or inconvenienced, and it makes Dan Heng's heart palpitate.

"It's... it's difficult to look at you and speak to you at the same time," you lowly admit. His eyes widen in surprise, and almost immediately, his thoughts begin to race again.

"I-I'm sorry," he tells you. Now, you somehow have no problem looking at him, lips parted in shock.

"What? Why are you apologizing?" you say with a disbelieving shake of your head. But then it clicks, and you realize your mistake. "Dan Heng, it's not because of that, I-I promise."

Now, he's confused. It's not? Then, what else?

"I-It's..." Why are you stammering? Is it so hard to just... tell me? "Y-You're just--"

"Just what?" Dan Heng begs.

You swallow harshly, and under his intense and saddened gaze, you feel yourself growing warmer and warmer, almost boiling like a kettle atop a fire until you could hold yourself back no longer.

"I just didn't think it was possible for you to look even prettier than you already are, okay?!" you hiss at him. "I-I was embarrassed! Don't ask me about it anymore, alright?!" And you stalk off towards March 7th and Welt Yang, hands covering your face and stuttering out a loud, "S-So, we're leaving now, right?!"

Dan Heng can barely bring himself to react. Standing there amidst the rubble of the Scalegorge Waterscape, his eyebrows have shot so high up toward his forehead that he manages to jokingly wonder if they've flown away.

His skin flushes, his cheeks rosy and lips parted in shock.

"... p-prettier?" He blinks. Several times. The shock doesn't dissipate. "You... You think I'm pretty?"

What floods his veins is a confusing, concentrated mixture of relief and, surprisingly, adoration. For your lack of frustration for him, for the fact that you weren't ignoring him for omitting such a huge fact about himself, for so many silly thoughts and concerns that you managed to invalidate by shouting a simple compliment at him. You weren't ignoring him, after all.

That's all it took to shake him from his funk. That's all it takes for him to step forward, his toes barely touching the floor when he floats across the floor of the Dragonvista Rain Hall after you.

#sorry-- i was just thinking about him again ;-;#thoughts spilling out in non chronological order whoooops #I'D TELL HIM HE'S PRETTY ALL DAY LONG IF HE LETS MEEEEEE HNNNGGGGG #is this coherent? it's 3am. i'm eepy and my eyes are blurry.#dan heng #dan heng x reader #dan heng x yn #dan heng x y/n #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #imbibitor lunae #✦ nc vb.#dan heng fluff

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ghouljams · 8 months

Note

I finished the medieval Ghost drawing and I drew what I imagined the Royal Crest to look like. The chainmail wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Fun to draw 10/10 would recommend.

Let's fucking goooo, that's my MAN!!! I could stare at this for fucking hours, I'm going to stare at it for hours, thank you. Also the crest?? The Crest???? So good.

God!!! The hand on the leg(too far up to be proper I see u Ghost) and the way he's sort of bowing to her like I can feel the emotion in my teeth I want to eat this. Have some fic.

"You're wearing your helm," you keep your voice low, hardly moving your head to speak to the knight behind you. This is one of those tedious things you have to do sometimes. You stand with your seated parents as they hear the people's complaints, and try not to think about how you would handle things. You're supposed to be pretty, not smart. Although you are smart, and you do have ideas, you're expected to keep them to yourself.

"Didn't want to show you up," Ghost jokes, voice as monotone as ever. You smile a little to yourself.

"If you're so much prettier than me, you can take over being the show pony," you joke back.

"And rob the kingdom of seeing you all dressed up? Wouldn't dream of it," you can hear the slight chuckle in his voice, it's a comfort. Having Ghost nearby is always a comfort. He has such a way of calming you, keeping you from pulling to far into yourself. He treats you like a person, not a princess, when you need him to.

"I'd quite enjoy seeing you in a dress, something to emphasize your waist maybe?" Although finding something to fit his broad shoulders might be a bit more tricky. All that swinging a sword around has certainly built him a nice physique. It's silly, but the thought makes your placid princess smile a little more genuine.

"What do you know about my waist?" He asks, you can still hear his amusement in his tone. That's good, you'd hate to offend him.

"Only what I've seen of it," you hum.

"Sneaking peaks are we?" He clicks his tongue and the sound reverberates through your bones, you feel it like he's physically touched you the way it slides down your spine, "Naughty girl."

You tell yourself he's only joking, but that doesn't dull your reaction. Heat blooms over your cheeks, you swallow the feeling that wells in your chest, and wet your lips. Does he know he can take you apart with just those two words? That the depth in his tone, the growl in his voice, makes you want to melt where you stand?

You turn to tell him you absolutely were not sneaking peaks, and that even if you did happen to it would only have been while you were on the road together. Which you hardly think counts considering there's hardly any privacy when camping anyway. You catch your mother's glare at the first twitch from you. You keep your eyes forward and do your best not to pout.

"If you stand there nice and pretty like a good girl I'll tell you why I'm wearing my helm," Ghost never whispers, but he speaks so that his voice doesn't carry. You watch your mother for any sign that she's listening, and she hardly bats an eye. You suppose you're both far enough back, and her attention is far enough forward, to grant you some level of privacy. You give the barest hint of a nod for your knight, and he lets out a breath.

"Good," Maybe one word is all he needs, you like the way he says it, the way it brushes over your skin. He's quiet for a long while. Two people get up to air their grievances before he speaks again. It's long enough that you almost want to ask, to jog his memory. If you didn't know better you might squirm.

"Wanted to make sure I wasn't caught staring," He tells you finally.

"What are you looking at?" You smile to hide the quick twitch in your brows. It's not like Ghost to be distracted doing his duties, you wonder what-

"You're clever, what do you think I'm looking at?" His voice is so thick you wonder how he was able to speak at all. You take stock of the room, the throng of people and servants. His eyes should be everywhere, there's only one place they truly shouldn't be. On you.

You can feel them, the weight of his gaze as it travels over you. You can feel where it settles: your waist, your hips, your chest, your neck, your lips. You let out a breath and know his eyes have settled on the movement of it. How are you supposed to survive the rest of this interminable function with his eyes on you like this?

"I am clever aren't I," You tell him, knowing the way he hums in assent will do nothing to stop the heat that follows his gaze.

"You are."

It's strange how you can have so many eyes on you and never feel their pressure, but knowing your knight is watching makes you almost self conscious. You can feel every brush of your skirt, every shift in your posture that your breath brings, every little twitch in your body magnified under Ghost's watchful eye. You haven't wanted to fidget since you were a child, and yet here you are. Your skin crawling, your bones begging to move, if for no other reason than to give Ghost something to look at, some reason to watch you.

Suddenly you're not standing for your parents, or out of duty to your position, you're standing for him. And that's so much different isn't it? You can't move, can't directly speak to Ghost, and though your fingers ache to touch him neither of you would dare. What pleasure does he get from this?

More so, how is it so pleasant for you?

You wonder if he looks at you often, if he likes what he sees. You wonder if he has favorite dresses, favorite jewelry, if he ever hopes you'll wear something again. You wonder if he has favorite parts of you, if he likes your eyes as much as you like his, if he thinks about your hands as often as you do his. You hope he does. You hope he looks at you and thinks of you sweetly.

It's all either of you gets.

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ohnoitstbskyen · 11 months

Note

They turned him into an anime boy haha https://twitter.com/spideraxe30/status/1676427863992463362?s=46&t=iPiW6_AcyhGzA3TEHU2-mg

... hhhhhuh. Yeah okay, that's definitely An Update. Does he actually look any different in-game? Did he get new animation?

Either way, that sure is... a way to approach him. A rather boring way, I feel.

Like, Vladimir is a dandy. Ignoring his terrible, terrible presentation in League of Legends, to me he always felt like he was supposed to be this over-the-top Dorian Grey hyper-hedonistic maximalist pleasure seeker, fully reveling in wearing outrageous fashion and being The Most Extra at all times

Wild Rift Vladimir certainly looks less silly, and a lot prettier (which is, in its way, an improvement, Vladimir SHOULD be an impossibly beautiful pretty boy I think), but this just feels aesthetically way too basic for him.

It's reduced his colors down to just the Noxus Base Palette, and completely removed the decorativism and ornamentation from his outfit. It seems like a design that's going for Sleek™ and I feel like he should look more like covered himself in glue and rolled through Howl Pendragon's bedroom

Like, he should look like he has a taste for the exotic and expensive, someone who hoards trinkets and jewelry and fashion items like a magpie, someone who wants to show you such delights, my dear, oh truly, someone who dazzles and overwhelms with sheer magnitude of decoration.

Someone who disarms his victims by seeming like a harmless, foppish pretty boy, right up until the blade of his claw rises up your neck and he asks you if you won't please stay for a drink.

Which, by the way, if you wanted to tie him more deeply into Noxus as a region, having him be someone ostentatiously displaying the looted aesthetics of regions and cultures that the empire is actively conquering would be a great way to do that. He's basically a vampire, you won't find a more pitch-perfect metaphorical avatar of imperialism than that.

All my criticisms aside, mind you, anything is better than how horrid he looks in League of Legends right now, so call it a step down aesthetically and a big step up in production value.

#tb answers #league of legends #wild rift #vladimir league of legends #noxus

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to-the-stars8 · 11 months

Text

Learning to Love Slowly

Jason Todd x Reader All Chapters AO3 18+ MDNI here's your nickleback smut, for context find that post about me listening to nickleback. also I didn't re-read this bc I'm just too tired lol

54-Positions and Pillow Talk

“Oh, fuck, don’t stop,” You gasped, turning to scream into the pillow. From this angle, he was hitting just the right spots and incredibly fucking deep. “Just like that. Oh, shit, Jason!”

The way you said his name, breathlessly and full of lust, had Jason’s heart fluttering while his cock twitched. Looking down at you like you were a gift he’d been wanting for years, Jay gripped at your ass until there were indentions of his fingers left behind. It would leave bruises, he knew, but he decided that the guilt could come later. Yet, that wasn’t enough. He wanted to be closer.

Jason groaned as he pushed into you as deep as he could until he bottomed out, and his chest was against your back. Your body went limp for a second, and he looked up just in time to see you turn to let out another string of loud moans into the pillow.

Smiling, he asked, “You good, sweetheart?”

Sweaty and flushed, you weakly hummed a yes. Jason insisted to hear your voice as he moved pieces of hair from your mouth. “Yes, I just—You’re so fucking good…”

You couldn’t finish your sentence as Jason started to slowly thrust again, pressing sloppy kisses into your shoulder as he did. His hand snaked around your waist, his fingers tracing a sweaty line from the bottom of your breasts to between your legs.

You put your hand on his, mumbling something incoherent as your eyes fluttered closed again. Jason thought about stopping, seeing how overstimulated you were and not wanting to push too far, but he remembered that you’d let him know when enough was enough. And, by the whine you gave, hand pushing against his, you wanted more.

Jason moaned into your hair as his fingers finally found the place he’d been searching for. You were soaked, the wetness causing his fingers to easily slide against your clit, finding the just right rhythm you liked.

Jason steadied himself with his other hand as he slowly pulled out before slamming into you again. You yelped in surprise, hands scrabbling to find something to cling onto until one found the pillow next to you and the other found his forearm.

“You look so pretty,” Jason whispered against your ear, picking up the pace of his thrusts.

You looked up at him, eyes glazed over but a sincere, sweet smile on your face as you tried to get out a thank you. Yet, when he hit that spot again, your eyes closed and you thinned your lips to contain another moan. Jason couldn’t have pictured a prettier sight, nor anything else he’d rather be doing than you.

Before you made a sound, he felt you come undone, pussy fluttering around his cock. It made his movements stutter for a second, because, for how good he was at finding all the right places in you, you were somehow better at doing the same to him. Jason groaned, forehead pressing against the back of your shoulder as he concentrated to not cum just yet. He wanted this feeling to last a little longer, to be right on the edge yet again.

When you finally turned your face from the pillow, you tried to look at Jason over your shoulder, hand on his arm weakly stroking him reassuringly. Breathless, weakly, you asked, “How we doin’ back there, honey?”

Jason chuckled, pressing another kiss to your shoulder, “We’re good, baby. You good for me to keep going?”

“Yeah, but wait,” You said sheepishly. “Can we change positions? I wanna try a new one.”

Jason nodded, a bit hesitant at first because he liked the way the two of you were— You were certainly enjoying it in any case. Though, that didn’t stop him from slowly removing himself from you with a whimper.

Taking the arm you already holding, you pulled him to lie behind you on his side, essentially making him spoon you. Jason, once he realized what you were doing, was enthusiastic about fucking you while essentially cuddling. He slipped his hand under your ass and up the back of your thigh, pushing your leg up in the air so he could align himself back at your entrance. There was little resistance as he pushed in, only taking a second to make sure you were okay before bucking his hips against you again.

He was thrusting faster and wild this time, losing a lot of the constraint from before. Jason liked this position, it gave him easier access to other parts of your body and he just felt a fuck ton closer to you. Skin pressed against skin, and there was no hiding your face into a pillow or hiding how much you liked it. As you were quickly a blubbering mess, nails digging into Jason’s forearms as his arms held you to him so incredibly tight.

He was whispering shit into your hair, but fuck all if you were listening—completely blocking him out when his fingers found your clit again. You squealed, still sensitive from earlier. Jason groaned, his lips finding the nape of your neck and sucking a hickey into the soft skin. While you attempted to turn your head to kiss him, you finally came again. Your orgasm was sudden and unanticipated, washing over you so quickly that you didn’t have time to register Jason finally capturing your lips with his.

“Jason,” You sobbed, turning to look down at where your bodies conjoined. You could see your slick covering the inside of your thighs and his cock, and it send butterflies to your stomach. Suddenly, you cried out, “Fuck, I want you to come in me.”

Jason whimpered lightly into your ear, a sound so sweet and pitiful. He was so close, you could feel him twitch inside you as he tried to pull you closer. With both arms wrapped around your waist, his hips snapped forward in desperation.

“Oh, fuck,” He whispered into your ear. “I’m gonna…fuck, sweetheart—Gonna cum.”

Before you could say anything he stilled, letting out a breathy moan against your ear. Having him cum in you was another kind of pleasure you didn’t know you’d been yearning for, and he certainly had been holding back. When Jason pulled out, whimpering as he did, he couldn’t help himself as he push himself back in—causing an obscene squelch sound you didn’t think be recreated outside of porn.

“Shit,” He breathed against your ear after a few minutes. “You’re so fucking good.”

Letting out a quick laugh, you turned to give him a peck on the lips. “Right back at ya, handsome.”

Jason chuckled before loosening his grip around your waist, just enough that you took the opportunity to wiggle away. As much as you loved the feeling of his cum in you, you never quite liked the mess.

“Babe, no,” Jason whined. “Stay.”

You giggled, trying to withstand the jelly feeling in your legs, before waddling to the bathroom. Jason smiled to himself as he sat up, reaching for his phone. “Are you hungry, sweetheart?” He had felt hungry for the past hour but was too entrenched in the sex to pay attention to the feeling. “I’m famished.”

“Who the fuck says famished, Jason?” You called back, laughing.

He snickered, “People who read.”

“I read!” Your voice grew louder as you opened the door. “And, yes, I am very hungry.”

Jason shook his head, “Said like someone who doesn’t read.”

You laughed, picking out some clothes from your drawer before turning to him again. “You know, I bet there is no one else in the entire world who has sexier pillow talk than us.”

Jason’s laugh was a low rumble that was welcoming to the ears and you abandoning the clothes you had picked out. Almost instantly he noticed what you were doing, putting his phone off to the side and saying, “Well, look what all that lack of reading and too much talking is about to get you now.”

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #romance #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd x you #red hood #red hood x reader #batfamily #robin jason todd #jason todd smut #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x y/n #red hood smut #red hood fanfiction

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