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cleo-fox · 4 months

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Unraveled

Summary: It was all fun and games until Loki started wearing that goddamn sweater.

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, dirty talk, praise kink, teasing, orgasm delay, sex, vaginal fingering, godly refractory periods, kitchen sex, semi public sex, Loki in a sweater.

A/N: My explanation for this one is that I saw too many pictures of Tom Hiddleston in a sweater and it gave me thoughts.

Being an Avenger has made you pretty good at rolling with the punches. After your third or fourth encounter with some alien/wizard/android bullshit, your perspective is fundamentally altered and real life seems manageable in a way that it didn’t before. You have to call your insurance company to dispute a claim? Big deal, you’ve negotiated with terrorists; you can handle Garth from Member Services.

The thing is, having that kind of perspective means that the things that do get to you can rattle you a lot more than they should. Natasha had warned you about that, but you were riding high on the thrill of successfully conquering Blue Cross Blue Shield and you kind of got to thinking she was exaggerating.

And then the seasons started to turn and Loki started wearing that goddamn sweater.

You can recognize when someone is out of your league. When you first moved into the Tower, it had been relatively easy for you to assign Loki to that category: he was a god. He’d been featured in last month’s GQ. You were mortal and your most recent press had been a TMZ story featuring unflattering paparazzi photos of you leaving a bodega in your pajamas at seven o’clock in the morning, a bagel halfway into your mouth. You were clearly not the same.

Up until the sweater, you’d managed to keep your cool around Loki and keep your attraction confined to daydreams and the occasional surreptitious lustful glance. Hell, you’d even had the nerve to be proud of yourself for keeping your shit together in front of him.

The sweater lays waste to all of that.

On the surface, it doesn’t seem like a sweater that is capable of completely destroying your carefully constructed composure. It’s a fairly standard crew neck in a deep green so dark it almost looks black at a first glance. But on Loki it just…does things to you. The fabric is well fitted, clinging to his biceps, pulling taut across his chest, emphasizing the line of his pectorals. It somehow accentuates how muscular he is while also still making him look lean and lithe.

The first time he wears it, you find your eyes just trail to him of their own volition, like an incredibly horny moth to the flame. It’s a day of catching yourself staring, panicking, pretending that you were actually looking at something else, and then repeating the process five minutes later when your gaze inevitably wandered again. It almost would have been funny if it didn’t put your blood pressure into the stratosphere.

To make matters worse, at the end of that day’s debriefing, he rises from his chair and raises his arms to the ceiling in a long stretch. The hem of the sweater creeps up, exposing the firm, flat muscles of his stomach, lightly dusted with a trail of hair that meanders in a tantalizing path down to his belt buckle.

You promptly choke on your own spit. Clint claps you hard on the back and asks if you’re okay, which is a question you don’t know how to answer (ultimately, you stick to a thumbs up and mumble something about dust getting caught in your throat). Loki is too preoccupied complaining about the entire concept of office furniture to notice. Or at least you’re pretty sure he doesn’t notice.

You might have been okay if that had been the only incident, but the sweater makes a repeat appearance on Friday. The following Tuesday features the deadly combination of the sweater with a pair of tight, dark wash jeans that nearly send you into cardiac arrest. Your fantasies suddenly become much more frequent and detailed.

You are not really sure what to do about this—it’s not like you can talk to anyone about it, nor can you ask him to stop wearing it without prompting some very uncomfortable questions. The idea that you’ll get used to it is laughable.

You look at your calendar and note that spring is six months away. At least.

Fucking hell.

It’s a Saturday afternoon and in a strange quirk of scheduling, almost everyone is out of town for a mission or a personal obligation, leaving the Tower unusually quiet. As much as you enjoy the daily clatter and chaos that comes with living here, you find a lot of comfort in these moments of quiet, however infrequent they may be.

You intended to make yourself a late afternoon snack. That was the plan, anyway. But as you’re standing at the kitchen counter and cutting up the fruit you just washed, you realize that you’re not entirely alone. From this vantage point, you can see Loki lounging on the couch in the next room and reading.

He’s wearing the sweater. Of course he’s wearing the sweater. And the so-tight-they-should-be-illegal dark wash jeans.

Goddammit.

You have the sense to set the knife down at least. The last thing you need is a trip to the hospital because you got too distracted by your hot colleague while handling a knife.

You let your gaze travel along the firm muscles of his chest. It’s just a sweater. It shouldn’t look this good. It shouldn’t prompt these kinds of thoughts. And yet…

He shifts on the couch and the hem of the sweater creeps up. His hand drops to his belt buckle. It’s entirely appropriate, but the way his long, long fingers are splayed against his stomach makes your mind drop straight to the gutter and wonder what they’d look like wrapped around his rock hard co—

“You know, it’s rude to stare.”

His voice comes from behind you and adrenaline surges through you like an electric shock. The Loki on the couch looks up at you and smirks before disappearing in a shimmer of green.

You wonder if it’s possible to die of embarrassment and a heart attack all at the same time. It certainly feels like you’re about to.

You take a deep breath and try to collect yourself, which feels largely futile. Come on, get it together. You’ve negotiated with terrorists and insurance companies. Shake it off.

You slowly turn around, cheeks burning. Loki is standing right behind you, arms folded across his chest. You swallow.

“I um. I was—I was just…” Words escape you as your brain fires in every direction except a helpful one.

“You were just what?” His expression is intense, but you’re not sure that he’s angry.

“Spacing out,” you say, trying to infuse your voice with confidence that you absolutely do not feel.

He places his hands on the counter behind you, intentionally caging you in with his body. You are overwhelmed by the scent of him—a masculine, wintery musk that makes you want to bury your face against his chest.

“Try again,” he says. His voice is deep enough to rattle your bones.

You swallow. Everything you could possibly say seems wildly inadequate.

Loki has never been one to be at a loss for words, though, and after a moment of terrified silence from you, he continues speaking.

“I’ve noticed something curious over these past few weeks,” he says. “When I wear this sweater, you can’t seem to take your eyes off of me.”

Your heart is pounding. Fucking hell. Have you really been that obvious?

“Now why is that?” he asks, his voice a low purr.

You briefly consider trying to lie again, but the piercing green of his eyes instantly makes you rethink it. “I um…” You swallow hard. “It’s just…it suits you. You…you look good.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I look good?”

You nod.

“Interesting.” His lips twitch in a slight smirk as he looks you up and down. “And how does that make you feel?”

Your heart thuds in your chest, your stomach contorting with a strange combination of fear and desire. You’re still humiliated, but the sound of his voice and the dark intensity of his gaze is intoxicating and incredibly arousing.

“I don’t—I don’t know how to answer that question.”

“Oh, I think you do.” There’s a rawness in his voice that makes your cunt clench.

You shake your head, eyes wide. You’re pretty sure he’s not really mad, but you also don't know where this is going. Surely he’s not making a pass at you…right?

“How does it make you feel to see me in this sweater?” he continues, his voice a low whisper. He pauses for a moment and when you don’t answer, he continues. “Does it…arouse you, perhaps?”

Holy fuck.

This can’t be happening.

You try to think of something clever or sexy, but the bluntness of the question and the fire in his eyes kills whatever remaining brain cells you have left. Mutely, you nod.

There’s that smirk again as he licks his lips. “Are you wet right now?”

Your cheeks burn. You give the tiniest nod possible.

“Hmm.” His hand alights on the button of your jeans. “I believe you Midgardians have a saying that is appropriate here: trust, but verify.” He slips the button free and your heart pounds like a war drum in your chest.

You cannot believe this is happening.

“You haven’t been entirely truthful in this conversation.” His palm presses flat against your stomach, the tips of his fingers slipping under the waistband of your underwear. “So I’m afraid I’m going to have to see for myself.”

His hand is achingly slow, creeping lower and lower. He watches you intently as his hand cups your sex, seemingly cataloging the way your breath hitches and all the little shivers that run through you.

His middle finger finally slides between your folds and you can’t help but moan.

“Oh, you did lie to me,” he growls, his index finger joining his middle, both sliding up to circle your clit. “You’re not wet, you’re soaked.”

Your legs are already starting to tremble and you grab on to his shoulders to try and steady yourself. The fabric of the sweater is softer than a cloud against your hands.

“Sopping wet,” he continues, trapping your right leg between his thighs and the counter, the heavy weight of his erection pressing eagerly against your hip. “And this is all for me?”

Wordlessly, you nod. There’s no point in denying it—and you don’t think he wants you to, either.

“What am I going to do about this?” he muses. His index and middle fingers lightly circle your clit again and you whimper.

“Don’t stop,” you gasp. “Please don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop?” he says. His tone is one of light curiosity, like you’re just chatting casually about the weather. “But if I continue, you’re almost certainly going to come.”

“Yes,” you gasp. “Please.”

“Oh, you want me to make you come?” You can hear the smirk in his voice. “Right here in the middle of the kitchen?”

You nod.

“Anyone could walk in, though,” he purrs. “Anyone could come in and see me with my fingers buried in your dripping cunt. What would they think if they saw you so utterly debauched and at my mercy, begging for me to make you come?”

“Don’t care…” you gasp. How are you already so close?

He raises an eyebrow. “You don’t care what they’d think if they saw us like this?”

You shake your head.

“Oh, you must be desperate.” He adjusts his hand, his thumb taking up the rhythm on your clit while his index finger sinks into your slick channel, making you gasp.

“Loki, please—”

“Begging already,” he says, not letting up in his rhythm. “Has it been a long time, sweetheart? When did you last feel this good?”

It’s not a question you can answer. You don’t know that anyone ever has made you feel like this. You moan, your hips bucking hard against his hand.

“Poor thing,” he tuts. “You’re clearly desperate for it. What kinds of filthy thoughts have you had about me?” he purrs. “I’ve seen you staring, I’ve heard your breath hitch. Have you touched yourself while thinking of me?”

You manage a nod and his smile turns feral. “When was the last time?”

“Last…last night,” you gasp.

“How many times did you come?”

“F-Four.”

“Filthy girl.” His free hand slides up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he tips your head back. “Next time, all you have to do is ask.”

His mouth covers yours, his tongue pushing past your lips as he slides a second finger into you. You moan into his mouth as the pressure in your hips increases.

“Oh yes, let me hear all of those pretty noises,” he murmurs. “Are you going to let me fuck you against the counter after I make you come?”

You nod, whimpering.

“Good girl,” he purrs. “I think you need to be fucked properly and hard. Is that what you need?”

“Yes,” you gasp.

“Mmm, that’s what I thought. This cunt is just too wet and needy for any other treatment.” He draws back to look at you more fully, giving you a lazy, hungry smile. “You’re about to lose it all over my fingers, aren’t you?”

Your orgasm is cresting, the tingling pressure in your hips becoming unbearable. You nod, lost for words.

With one more smirk, he curls his fingers inside of you. “Come for me, pretty girl, let me see you.”

Your cunt spasms around his thrusting fingers and your whole body shudders as your orgasm overtakes you, your head tipping back as you cry out.

“Oh, that’s it,” he murmurs, “there’s my good girl.”

A shiver runs through you at his words, your hips still moving against his hand, trying to draw out every last ripple of pleasure.

He kisses you as you come down from your high, and you take the opportunity to run your hands over his chest and tentatively feel the hard planes of muscle that you’ve been staring at these last few weeks. But after a few moments, he takes your hand and guides it to his cock.

His preference for leather pants or those sinfully tight dark wash jeans made you suspect that the size of his ego might actually be proportionate to the size of his cock and your initial assessment seems to confirm that theory. You rub your fingers over the denim that covers his thick shaft, feeling yourself grow even wetter at the low groan he makes in the back of his throat.

“Take my cock out.” His voice is so deep and his eyes are so smoldering, it feels like the command goes straight to your cunt. You are practically trembling with anticipation as your shaking hands make quick work of the button, buckle, and zipper.

You can’t help but suck in a breath when his cock comes into view. He’s long and deliciously thick—big enough to be a little intimidating, but not overwhelmingly so.

He guides your hand to wrap around his shaft. He barely fits in your hand. “Look at what you’ve done to me,” he says, his voice raspy as he guides your hand to stroke his cock. “Feel how hard I am for you, feel how much I want you.”

His cock practically pulses with need, the tip slick with pre-come and you grasp him more firmly, your cunt pulsing as he gives a deeply satisfying groan.

You stroke him from base to tip, squeezing lightly. He groans again. “They told me to stay away from you, you know,” he says.

You aren’t so far gone that you can let this information slip by. “What? Who?”

“Stark. Rogers. Romanoff. My brother.” He reaches behind you and shoves the fruit and cutting board into the side, the knife clattering into the sink. “They saw how I looked at you,” he says. “They saw that I wanted you. They told me you were too good for me. Too sweet.”

You feel your jeans and underwear melt away in a shimmer of green and he lifts you easily onto the counter.

His eyes flash with desire. “I wonder what they’d say if they knew you’d let me fuck you raw in the middle of the kitchen?”

For a brief moment, frustration almost wins out over your lust. “We could have done this sooner?”

His gaze turns serious. “Darling, we could have done this the moment we met, but I’m told a handshake is more appropriate.”

You take a breath, about to embark on a rant about the individuals he’d named and how they hadn’t even asked, they’d just assumed, but Loki puts a hand up against your mouth.

“Don’t make me wait any longer,” he says. There’s a sincerity and a need in his gaze that you’ve never seen before and it’s enough to calm your anger for just a moment.

“Okay,” you say, wrapping your legs around his waist and angling your hips toward his, “but clear your schedule because I’m gonna need you to fuck me a lot to make up for all that time.”

His grin is feral as he pushes into you.

You shiver at the blunt stretch of his cock, your hands gripping his broad shoulders. He indulges in a low groan as his hips press flush against yours.

“If I’d known they were keeping me from this tight cunt, I would’ve done something sooner,” he rasps. “You feel absolutely perfect.”

“Please,” you breathe, “I need—please.”

His hips snap hard against yours and you moan, your head tipping back.

His eyes glitter as he pulls you close, pressing his mouth against your ear. “The next time I have you, I will be sweet and soft.”

“And this time?” you ask, though you think you already know the answer.

“This time—” His mouth presses against the curve of your neck, teeth scraping just this side of too hard against the tender skin. “—I’m going to utterly ruin you.”

His pace is fast and rough—the word possessive comes to mind. You twist the luxurious fabric of his sweater in your hands as his cock hits that sweet, aching spot inside of you, pressing against your sensitive cunt in a way that makes your muscles spasm and clench around him. You moan, a shiver rolling through you as you inch closer to release.

“I’m…fuck, I’m getting close,” you gasp.

His pace abruptly slows and his grin is wide and his eyes are dancing with mirth when he raises his head from your shoulder.

“That was unnecessary,” you say with a scowl.

“Oh, I just want to savor you for a little longer, my love,” he purrs as he settles into an easy and slow pace that still makes your toes curl. “You’re going to take me right over the edge with you and I’ve waited so terribly long to have you.”

“I feel like you’re probably omitting the fact that you like being a tease,” you say.

He grins again, increasing his pace ever so slightly. “Both things can be true.”

He does this a few times—taking up a wicked pace that almost sends you hurtling over the edge, only to slow at the last possible moment, silencing your whimpering protests with a deep and slow kiss that is good enough to make you forgive him until a few minutes later when he does it all over again.

You hold out for as long as you can, but eventually, the ache in your hips overwhelms you.

“Loki,” you breathe when his pace again begins to increase. “Please don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop?” he rasps, somehow finding the concentration to raise an eyebrow. “You’re quite sure?”

You nod.

“You want to come all over my cock?”

Speech is slightly beyond you at this point, but you manage to gasp a desperate plea as you hurtle into the final plateau, right before the fall.

Loki regards you with that same playful look as he fucks you. You wait, unsure of what he’s going to do, your body desperately crying out for your release.

His lips curl into a smile. “Come for me, sweet thing.”

At the sound of his voice, every one of your muscles is tensing and releasing, the slick walls of your cunt clamping down hard on the thick girth of his cock as you shudder and moan.

The remnants of Loki’s composure are fraying, his eyes closed and his jaw slack as he chases his own end. His brow furrows and he throws his head back, letting out a low groan as he comes and you think it might be the best sound you’ve ever heard.

You sag against him as you both come down from your respective highs, his heart beating hard under the soft fabric of his sweater. He reaches for your face, tilting your head back so he can kiss you, impossibly slow and soft.

You’re in the middle of the kitchen. You understand this. In a wholly rational world, you would be quick to hop off the counter, quick to try and negotiate the return of your jeans from whatever pocket dimension he’s sent them to.

Instead, you find yourself wanting to stay in this moment, with his arms wrapped around you, his cock still pulsing inside you as he kisses you breathless.

You count to ten, then twenty. At forty, you draw back slightly, only to have him pull you back into the kiss.

It’s somewhere after one hundred when he trails his lips to your neck and you manage to say what you intended: “We should probably…” you trail off as he sucks at your pulse point, sending a shiver down your spine.

“We should probably what?” he murmurs against your neck, before tracing a lazy figure eight with the tip of his tongue.

It takes you a moment to find that sentence. “Get dressed and such.”

You feel the sharp press of his smile against your skin. “I think not.”

Before you can open your mouth to say anything, the kitchen is fading in a shimmer of green to an unfamiliar bedroom and the two of you tumble into a bed draped in green silk.

“I’d like to stay like this for a while,” he says, a smile playing at his lips as he slowly rolls his hips against you, somehow still impossibly hard. “In fact, I think I need to have you again.”

“I can live with that,” you say. You tug at the fabric of his sweater. “But this is going to have to go.”

His gaze is smoldering and his bare skin is suddenly pressed against yours as the sweater and the rest of your clothes disappear in that familiar shimmer of green.

“Will you like me as much without it?” he asks, rolling his hips against you.

You drag your fingernails up along the firm muscles of his back. “I think I’ll manage.”

“Good,” he says, leaning in to kiss you, “because as I understand it, we have quite a lot of time to make up for.”

#loki smut #loki x reader smut #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson smut #loki x female reader smut #loki x female reader #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki x you smut #loki x yn smut #loki imagine

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iovetecchou · 6 months

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Stay Still ⧸ Fyodor Dostoevsky.𖥔 ݁ ˖

༞ Contains...! smut, somnophilia, oral (f receiving), biting, grinding, name-calling (whore), implied power imbalance / fyodor having some sort of control over the reader. he's sweet while you're sleeping but a prick when you're awake...

༞ AFAB Reader.

༞ 1,046 words.

kinktober masterlist!

Fyodor did not spare a second glance at any of his subordinates as he made swift strides toward his sleeping quarters. Knowing exactly what he needed to quell his frustrations right now; you.

Fyodor closed the heavy wooden door quietly as he stepped through the threshold of your shared space. The last thing he wanted was to wake you. The less talking right now, the better.

You always told your lover he was free to do whatever he pleased when it came to you. You aimed to satisfy him, conscious or not. Fyodor never quite took you up on that unconscious offer. He always preferred to watch you squirm and hear you beg for him as he toyed with you.

But tonight was different. Fyodor needed something to distract him from the millions of annoyances running through his head, and you were the perfect outlet.

Fyodor kicked off his boots, taking quiet steps toward the bed and shrugging off his overcoat in the process; letting it cascade to the floor. Fyodor took in your sleeping form as he tugged his ushanka off his head. His frigid hands now trailed over the hem of the duvet that resided at the foot of the bed. Slowly tugging the plush blanket up, slotting himself underneath, and wasting no time trailing his greedy hands up the expanse of your exposed legs.

The blanket let gravity take its course; falling over Fyodor’s frame and enshrouding him as he made himself comfortable beneath you. He rested flat on his tummy, slender legs still grounded to the bedroom floor. Fyodor sighed in contentment as he realized you were sleeping in that little nightgown that he loved so much.

But what really made his breath hitch? Was when his hands crawled under your flimsy dress, only to find you were completely bare underneath.

You made it too easy for him, really. It's like you were waiting for him to arrive home and ruin you.

Fyodor flipped the hem of your nightgown up before bringing his cold palms down to spread your thighs apart. His dominant hand ghosted over your pussy, letting his lithe digits glide through your wetness. A hum of approval emitted from Fyodor as he gathered up your slick before bringing his fingers up to his mouth. His tongue darted past his lips, groaning lowly as he tasted you.

Fyodor could already feel his tensions melting away from your taste alone. But he was insatiable when it came to you; he craved for more.

His face moved closer toward your inviting heat, inhaling deeply before placing a kiss on your clit. Fyodor smirked as he felt your thigh twitch under his grasp, provoking him even more. Fyodor let his tongue dart out, flattening his warm wet appendage against your twitching bud. He languidly began swirling his tongue in small circles, allowing his eyes to flutter shut as he devoured you.

All of his troubles slipped away in this moment. All he could focus on was the way you trembled underneath him.

Fyodor could hear your breathing spike from beyond the duvet, as he began moving vigorously against your puffy bud. He explored your folds further; allowing his tongue to dip inside your fluttering hole. Small hums and sighs spilled past his parted lips as he ravaged you. The vibrations from his sounds caused you to twitch even more. His grip on your thigh tightened as you continued to squirm under his grasp.

He could tell you were close, but your jolting caused his brows to furrow in annoyance. If you were awake right now, you would be so obedient for him. Remaining still if he ordered you to do so.

Fyodor found his own sloppy rhythm against your pussy. Alternating between lapping at your clit and tongue fucking you slowly. But your movements were getting in the way of his blissful state of mind. He pulled away from your drooling cunt for a brief moment; a string of saliva still connecting your darling Fyodor to your needy heat as he turned his head slightly, placing a small kiss on your inner thigh before biting. Hard.

A gasp left your lips as you jolted awake. Feeling slightly disheveled from your rude awakening. You sensed warmth radiating from underneath the duvet and a coil on the brink of snapping inside your tummy. Slowly, your hands came down to lift the thick blanket up. Immense heat swirled within your core at the sight below you as Fyodor muttered,

“Hey… can you stop moving so much?”

Fyodor’s eyes were half-lidded; violet orbs swirling with lust. The bottom half of his face was coated in your slick, you noted before his tongue darted back out to ravage your pussy.

“Fedya…”

Was all you could manage to whisper. Your mind still clouded from waking only moments ago, but the view underneath you was mesmerizing. Your thighs locked underneath Fyodor’s grasp, managing to stay as still as possible as his lips wrapped around your clit. Fyodor messily suckled your bud, droopy amethyst orbs never once leaving yours since you first locked eyes. Before you could prevent it, the coil within you snapped.

Your pussy clenched around nothing as you came, pulling a low groan from your lover's lips as your clit thumped against his tongue. You whimpered as he continued to lap at your puffy bud, only pulling away a few moments later to catch his breath.

“Oh? Did you just cum without my permission?”

Fyodor spat out. You watched his eyes darken as he crawled his way up the bed; enveloping your frame with his. You whined as you felt his prominent erection pressing up against your spent pussy, before Fyodor roughly slammed his hips into yours. He grunted against your lips before reiterating,

“Answer the question, whore. Did you or did you not just cum?”

Your gaze flicked down in embarrassment. Fyodor's words finally tore you out of your stupor.

“I’m sorry, Fedya… I did. But I didn’t mean to, I promise!”

He clicked his tongue grounding himself against you once more and pulling a strangled whine from your lips before he retorted,

“I guess I’ll just have to put you in your place. You know, I really loathe it when you disobey my orders— and offer me empty promises. You have a long night of repenting ahead of you, my little whore.”

#bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs imagines #bungou stray dogs smut #bungou stray dogs fyodor #bsd #bsd fyodor #bsd smut #bsd x reader #bsd imagines #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor smut #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky smut

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idyllicidols · 4 months

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Caught.

A/N: Tumblr tells me I've been on here for a year already. Time really flies! Just a quick one for Happy self anniversary and Merry Christmas.

***

"Hello?!"

Nayeon calls out as she enters your apartment, closing and locking the front door behind her. There's an eerie silence as she walks through the hall. Your door is slightly open, just a crack. Nayeon gives it a light nudge and pokes her head inside.

"Merry Christm-"

Nayeon drops her duffle bag by the foot of the bed, her breath quick and heavy. Her heart almost stops beating. Her body freezes, rigid with shock.

She hears groaning, coming from a figure laying on your bed in the center of the room. Your cock in your hand, your phone in the other, frozen in place while your best friend looks at you in disbelief.

You can't take your eyes off her, quickly placing your phone back onto the nightstand.

You didn't even think. The content of your phone remaining visible until the screen falls asleep: a photo of her - nothing even scandalous about it, just a photo of her, smiling at the camera with her cute bunny teeth and gummy smile—making a dumb cute little peace sign and acting like a goof. The screen finally goes dark, but the image is burned into her mind. A photo of her. You were jerking off to a photo of her. Your best friend.

Nayeon stumbles forwards, her mouth agape and her brain still failing to comprehend any of the shit that's happening.

It's like an out-of-body experience. Nothing makes sense anymore, everything is wrong. All the air seems to escape from her lungs, and all her thoughts melt out of her ears.

You lay there silently, your cock sitting on your stomach, covered with your own precum. Your heart is about to burst out of your chest, sweat sticks your hair to your forehead, heat emanates from every inch of your body. You should have heard her outside.

"Nayeon, it's not what you think."

"Oh yeah? What is it? Because this seems pretty fucking obvious to me."

"I don't know! I mean, I do, but...shit."

Nayeon fumbles through the photos. More images of her, from different angles, of different clothing, none particularly pornographic or inappropriate. A few shots that highlight the curve of her body, one that is focused on the swell of her firm ass, one from the front where you can see how snug her yoga pants are.

"So this is what you're into then, huh, jerk?"

Nayeon sits down on the bed with a thud. You're at a loss for words, laying next to her awkwardly, cock awkwardly hanging against your stomach. Nayeon doesn't speak at all. You can practically hear her think, processing this information, unsure what it means, uncertain whether she should feel flattered, used, hurt, betrayed, disgusted.

Without another word, or any kind of warning…

Nayeon starts to undress, her shirt thrown behind her. Her basic pink bra cups her petite breasts, a small layer of flesh rises up over the cup, but it's hard to make out. The top half of her torso, from her clavicle to her abdomen, is toned muscle, lithe and defined, feminine and sexy. You can't tear your gaze away from the taut curves of her shoulders, her arms, her hands, which start working on taking her jeans off.

"Keep going jerk. Touch yourself."

You look at her quizzically. Nayeon has never talked to you so harshly, especially about this kind of stuff, and even less while she was slowly stripping out of her clothes in your bed. This is a new side to her, your best friend still has the same looks to her, only now she's half-naked, stern and intense and almost angry as she watches you slowly jacking yourself, holding your member at a gentle but eager pace.

"Is this what you like? Pervert. Thinking about me while you jerk yourself off? Is the real thing better?"

Her barrage of questions makes your head hurt. Or perhaps it's just the amount of blood that seems to be going to your cock, as your mind fills with a haze of lust and desire. This condescending tone. The humiliation. Is this really what you're into?

Your thumb glides over your swollen, sensitive tip, a quiet moan escapes you as Nayeon lays next to you on her side, watching.

"Disgusting. Tch."

With each disparaging comment from her lips, the greater the pit forms in your stomach.

"You wanna see them?" Nayeon teases, letting one of her straps fall down her shoulder.

Your throat is dry. So fucking dry that it's hard to talk. So you nod your head in the most shameful and guilty way imaginable. It's Nayeon. Your Nayeon. There are boundaries that aren't supposed to be crossed and lines that shouldn't be crossed, and here you are, crossing them both.

She lets the other strap slip off her shoulder. Nayeon plays around with you a bit, letting just a hint of tit flesh spill out of the side before sliding the cups up again. After letting your pathetic begging whines linger for a minute, she undoes the hook of her bra in one smooth, single-handed motion and slowly takes it off.

"Well better or worse than what's in that fucked up head of yours?"

"Better..." You groan out, your hand instinctively reaching out towards her chest.

She slaps your hand away, pinning your wrist down into the mattress.

"Perv. Fucking touch me and I'll tear off your dick, got it?"

Nayeon said no touching, but she did nothing to stop you from jerking off in front of her. Actually, quite the opposite: Nayeon leans in even closer, her fingers trailing down the sides of her small perky tits. She lifts the small handfuls and gives them a playful shake, grinning at how desperately your mouth hangs open, lust clouding over your eyes, completely entranced. She knows full well she doesn't have a spectacular pair of melons, but in this case, she's fairly confident in them and what they're able to accomplish. And accomplishing a whole lot right now, it seems like.

You're mesmerized and enamored and lost and whatever the fuck else the synonyms for obsessed are. You want her. God do you ever want her, your arousal building more and more as Nayeon trails down the waistband of her underwear. Down, past her soft curving hips, exposing the tight pink slit underneath.

"You're not gonna cum already are you?" Nayeon mocks. "Look into my eyes" she orders, taking her thumb and giving your bottom lip a tug, forcing your drooling face to stare into her smoldering eyes, her tone still berating.

"Focus. Don't you look away, okay?"

A whimper and a nod. "Okay Nayeon." You're willing to do anything at this point, if only she allows you to keep staring at those brown bedroom eyes of hers. You are so fucking screwed.

"Good. Follow my fingers now. But remember, no touching." With that her hand slides down: down to neck, hovering over perfect handful of tits, gently pinching her rock hard nipples, a blissful smile washing over Nayeon as she does. Fingers trace around her navel, delicate and lovingly, teasing your poor erection with an agonizing display of sexuality and intimacy, torturous enough to make you beg for it, but never doing. Your balls feel so tight. Your entire pelvis feels like one massive tight knot.

"Keep watching..." Nayeon notices your blanked out expression, snapping her fingers to draw your attention back to her. Finally, finally! Her hands slither under the waistband of her underwear, and with a devious smirk, finally pulls her panties off and throws them to the floor. Nayeon presses a couple fingers to her nether lips, feeling the wetness, then showing off her slick coated finger to you.

"Wanna sniff?"

You want to so badly. It would only take a moment, it'd be so easy to cross over those inches. Her beautiful eyes. The girl you've known for so many years. Your best friend. You pathetically pant, like a dog who knows he shouldn't be begging his owner, but still hoping against hope to get the treats she has locked away.

Nayeon thrusts out her fingers again, rubbing them directly against your nose—smearing the honey across your upper lip. That heavenly sweet aroma. An explosion of alluring femininity that hits you like a brick, a thick waft of her womanly smell so strong and enticing.

And yet you can't touch, unable to do anything but pathetically touch yourself , like some kind of fugitive prisoner denied everything but the cruelest of tortures. You want to run. Escape from the intoxication and humiliation. To say 'let's just not ever bring this up again, be friends like we always were.'

But that'll never happen, not when Nayeon holds her hand over yours.

"Why don't you cum already eh? I'm waiting to see what a worthless perv like you looks like when he orgasms. Look at your gross, needy face."

If only you weren't so damn excited. A warm, burning sensation coils in your chest, pooling downwards. Nayeon isn't even touching it—there's no skin on skin contact with your cock. Instead she's using your hand like a puppet, pumping faster and faster, bringing yourself right to the brink, watching with wicked glee at the pitiful state you're in.

"Thinking about your best friend. After all we've been through. How the fuck do you even live with yourself? Pathetic."

A shudder goes through your body, as if you are absorbing the verbal abuse she gives you, making you even more aroused than before, feeling ashamed and dirty and alive. It's sick, perverted, and horrible, yet you revel in it, taking pleasure in feeling inferior, seeing her act with superiority and indifference to you and your pleas.

Her hand is over yours, her soft skin so close to your cock, yet so far—forcing your hand up and down, the head throbbing and swelling, unable to hold on any longer. Your entire focus is on Nayeon and her lithe touch. How her tiny tits jiggle ever so slightly when she moves. How her dark locks drift about her frame, flowing past her slim arms.

Before you even know it, you're blowing your load, feeling like a teenager in your own body, humiliated as it happens, almost falling backwards from the force, completely submitting to the control of another, spraying all over yourself, as Nayeon stares at you with disgust and contempt in her eyes. "You already came? God damn, that was even faster than I expected."

You can't stand the fact that you orgasmed within seconds of Nayeon touching you, even if it was over your hand. So easily able to dominate you, you are overtaken by desire, need and lust. By shame and embarrassment, your cock in your hand with jizz all over you.

She picks up her clothes and walks away, leaving you with a mix of shame and indignation, getting dressed while ignoring you.

As she is about to leave she turns back and faces you.

"See you tomorrow, pervert. Coffee. Yea?"

You're left alone, covered in jizz, looking down and watching yourself go soft and your member drip onto your lower belly. Your head is cloudy with afterglow, unhinged and confused feelings settle over you; part guilt, part exhilaration, all humiliation. Your body feels exhausted. The cold December air cools the sticky substance, drying it against you, you feel it, that's your shame, a shame that Nayeon exuded upon you and that you took pleasure in.

#kpop smut #nayeon smut #twice nayeon smut #twice smut

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ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused · 24 days

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Hi! Spencer Reid x reader where reader is kind of panicking because she’s worried Spencer will get tired of her and find someone that’s more like him personality wise? But then Spence reassures her that he loves her and only her? 🎀🚬🤍🤎

fem bimbo!plus size reader, wc: 589.

cw! angst :(

a/n: no i am not going to let bimbo reader sleep, but also i've been posting so much aaron recently, which is funny because i've been so obsessed with spencer recently. thank you for your request!

“I guess opposites really do attract huh?”

It was just a joke. A harmless, well meaning joke that completely spun your world off of its axis.

You were aware of the differences between you and your boyfriend, but you never felt bad about it, nor did he ever make you think that you weren't good enough for him. You would have liked to think that your differences was what made Spencer fall in love with you; but now you’re not too sure.

Yeah, sure, you needed help with understanding certain things, and your processing was a bit slower than others, but that didn’t make you stupid or annoying… right?

What if you talked too much? What about that time that you kept interrupting Spencer while he was reading? Did you irritate him? Did he think about breaking up with you? You’d never had thoughts like these before because you never had a reason to. You always felt secure in your relationship with Spencer, like you were his equal.

Spencer wasn’t used to your silence, it was unusual and quite frankly it raised the red flags in his mind. He was so used to your rambling about anything and everything that the quietness of his apartment was making him itch.

“Sweetheart?” He called out softly.

It was almost as if his words scared you, your body jumping at the sound of him breaking the serene atmosphere of his almost dark academia-esque apartment.

“Yes?” Your voice was hushed and meek and Spencer absolutely hated it.

He set his book down on the side table where he uncurled his legs and patted the spot on the couch next to him. “C’mere.” You looked almost hesitant to move, but nonetheless you got up and sat down.

He grabbed your hand and held it firmly, but you didn’t make any effort to hold it back. It made Spencer nervous; did he do something?

“Sweetheart,” He reiterated. “Is something wrong?”

“Am I too much?” Your panic was quick to build. “What do you mean?” Spencer’s brows were furrowed inquisitively. “Like - like do I talk a lot? Or - or are my clothes too colorful? Do I ask too many questions?” Your speech fired out rapidly, almost as if you didn’t say what you wanted to know you may never do.

“Hey, hey, hey… no, no, stop.” Spencer was quick to shush you, opting to hold your face instead of your hand. “Did someone tell you that?” You shook your head, “No, yes? I don’t know. It - it was just because of that stupid joke Morgan had made.”

Ah, he remembers now.

“The one about opposites attracting?” You nod feebly. “And it got me thinking… what if I’m - what if I’m not a good match for you? You might want someone that’s similar to you, one that knows how to play chess and understands all those super cool facts you know.”

“Honey,” Spencer interrupts with a light laugh. “No.”

He wasn’t laughing at you, he was laughing at the sheer fact that he couldn’t imagine ever wanting someone else.

“I want you. I’ve only ever wanted you. I - I do admit that we are different, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. I like that you aren’t like me. It’s comforting, and I just… I just love everything about you. I love you.”

“You promise?” You asked wetly with a pout. His lithe thumbs swipe at the tears trickling down your cheeks as he nodded, “Of course.”

“I love you too, Spencie.”

There you were. His girl.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

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hyunsvngs · 3 months

Text

𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 - han jisung x fem reader

wc: 1.3k

sw: MDNI. SMUT, mommy kink, sub jisung, dom reader, jisung’s bendy, anal fingering (m rec), dirty talk, multiple orgasms (m rec), handjob, cumplay, like 2 seconds of vaginal fingering, feminisation, unprotected sex, squirting, creampie

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

he’s so sweet, your boy.

jisung lays beneath you with desperate eyes. he’s naked, cock hard and chubby between slender thighs. his feet are cosy in pink, fluffy socks, and you’re naked next to him. he keeps staring at your tits.

“how bendy are you, my love?” your fingertip trails over jisung’s nipple, dusky and pebbled against his chest. he shivers with anticipation, and then seems to process your question, and his hands move to the pits of his knees.

“sungie’s super bendy, mama,” he grins, and to prove his point, he bends his legs to his head. jisung is super bendy, it seems, and his lithe body contorts until his knees hit his shoulders. the process raises his body off the bed a bit, exposing the beautiful pink pucker of his hole and the way his balls rest above it, heavy and full.

he always gets so leaky when you play like this. his cock rests leaking like a damn faucet on the bottom of his tummy, pubic hair coated with it, and you run your fingers over a dribble of precum. his cock jumps at the feeling of your hand being so close, but you simply coo and slap his balls lightly.

“a-are you gonna play with me now, mommy?” jisung whimpers, and you nod soothingly, kissing the mole on his cheek. he stays in position for you, pliant. jisung can be a brat, sure, but when he’s in his good boy headspace, it’s so easy to be nice to him. his lips part with a shaky breath when your hand moves upwards, hovering just over the tip of his cock.

“how could i not play with you, baby? look at how pretty you are,” you soothe, and jisung smiles, wide and toothy. the smile instantly falls to let out a pornographic moan when you wrap your hand around his cockhead, stroking fast and hard with his precum as lube.

“ah- uh, uh, oh- mommy, mommy, ‘s so- oh, oh, your hands-“ he babbles, fingers paling where they cling onto his knees tightly. “oh, you’re so- mommy. mommy! you’re so hot!”

“thank you, baby,” you hum, pecking his nose. “does that feel good on your little cock, sungie?”

“mm- yeah, yeah,” he nods, hips canting upwards. he’s going to cum soon. he never lasts long when you play with him like this, but you can usually wring two or three more out of him before he’s tapped out. “mm, my cock, ah- oh, god, my balls, my balls! mommy, please!”

you’d spank him for being ungrateful in any other situation, but something about your plaything’s chocolate pleading eyes has you reaching down with your spare hand to cup his balls. your hand is warm around it, and you feel his balls tightening in your hand when you run your thumb over them.

“ah! fucking- hnnnnfg, mommy, mommy, am i good? mama, am i good? please-“

“you’re good, you’re the best boy,” you say, voice level and soft. when you press a kiss to the mole on his neck he moans, and when you suck his skin into your mouth he wails. his body is bouncing on the bed, impatient and needy, and the dripping cock in your hand has you feeling a little nicer than normal. “mm, d’you wanna cum? do you wanna shoot it in your mouth, princess?“

“i- oh, is that why-“

“oh, yeah,” you giggle. his eyes roll back into his head, breath stuttery and heaving. “that’s why you’re bending for mama. i wanna lick your cum out of your mouth.”

“i can- i can- mama, i can do that! please touch my- please, please, my pussy-“

your finger slips from his balls, other hand still pumping frantically at his cock, and you rest it on the puckered skin of his asshole. just the pressure has him seizing up, head rolling against his pillow and tongue lolling out. he looks dumb with it, drooling all down his cheek, and when you force your finger inside unlubed and raw he’s cumming. it sprays upwards, and jisung raises his head, keening through an open mouth as you aim his cum onto his tongue. he’s dirty with it, sticking his tongue out further and grinding down onto your fingers.

when he’s done, tongue sufficiently covered in it, it’s only a brief moment before he’s dropping his legs and lunging towards you. he pushes his cum into your mouth, desperate, and you suck his tongue clean to hear him whine. it’s messy, spit slicking to your lips and dribbling to your chins. jisung’s hands grab impatiently at whatever he can reach.

“fuck- mm, fuck- mama, i want-“ jisung huffs, his fingers pressing between your legs. you’re naked for him, have been since the start. your folds are soaking with your arousal, hole clenching with need. “you want me? you- i can get hard again, fuck-“

“give it to me, baby, c’mon,” you moan, and he nods, flipping you over to rest on your back. his body looms over you, chest pink with his flush and you giggle as he pushes his cock into your pussy. he’s still a little too soft, despite his cock chubbing up again from your kissing, and he whines through the overstimulation. “thaaat’s my good boy. oh, my pretty baby.”

jisung nods, and you feel him shift just slightly forward. his cock hardens with the movement, and then he’s nodding again, as if to motivate himself. he huffs out a breath and you wait, silent, and then his hips are bunny fucking into you.

“oh, fuckin’ pussy- shit, ‘s so good, ‘s so good, baby, mommy, my baby, oh-“

“you like mommy’s pussy, baby? nice ‘n wet?” you coo, thighs resting apart for jisung to fuck into you. you’re so wet your pussy squelches and dribbles with every thrust, and the noises only make jisung louder. the bed squeaks with his thrusts. “mm, you’re so good. fuckin’ me so good, honey.”

“yeah? yeah? it’s good?” he babbles, hands scrabbling on the sheets to find purchase to fuck you harder. you moan when he finds what he’s looking for, and his knees kick like bambi on ice to try and get closer to you. “my- my cock’s sensitive, mama, it’s-“

“sungie, baby, don’t call it that,” you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck. he’s breathless, only moaning in a confused tone at your statement. “that’s a clit, baby, not a cock.”

jisung positively sobs. his head falls to your chest, eyes finally overflowing with tears as his hips don’t stop with the excessive pace. “i love you- i love you, mama, mom- mommy, i love you-“

“yeah, sweetheart, i love you too,” you reply halfheartedly, pussy finally tingling with the beginnings of an orgasm. your lover only fucks you harder when you moan, drooling on your tits messily and delirious with it. “d’ya like scissoring me, baby? you’re gonna make me cum, dirty little princess.”

“y-yeah? yeah! yeah, m- i- princess is gonna make you cum, i am,” he sobs, nodding, and you run your fingers through his hair. it’s tousled from your activities and you pull on the back, making him let out a wet, high pitched noise. “please! please cum, please cum, i g’ta cum!”

“i’m gonna cum, princess, i’m gonna cum, keep fucking me, just like that,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. with a particularly well timed thrust you’re shaking and cumming, pussy gushing and squirting over his cock, and jisung can’t help but cum.

his cock spurts inside of you, less than the last time but still a lot. jisung always cums a lot, and hard, like he’s doing now - his socked feet kick against the bed with it, eyes rolling back into his head and fingers gripping your hips desperately.

after a few seconds pass, he’s still shaking on your chest like he can’t help himself. his hips kick, once and then twice, and he giggles delightedly. “‘m still cumming. feels s’good, i- ah!”

“let it all out, baby,” you coo, hand running over his shoulder. he giggles again, nodding, happy and delirious.

he’s so sweet, your boy.

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suashii · 7 months

Text

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝒢𝒪𝒪𝒟 𝑀𝒪𝑅𝒩𝐼𝒩𝒢, 𝒮𝒰𝒩𝒮𝐻𝐼𝒩𝐸 — waking up beside them

info ⭑ includes: gojo satoru, geto suguru, itadori yuuji, fushiguro megumi ﾉ fluff :3

✰ GOJO rises with the sun which means that he’s almost always up before you. as the birds chirp outside the window and the heater kicks on with its constant hum, satoru takes the seldom moment of peace to watch your sleeping figure. you’ve wiggled your way out of his arms, only partly in his hold, lying so that you’re partially facing him on your side but in the process of rolling over onto your back. he’s tempted to close the gap, pull you close and hug you against his chest but you look too comfortable to rouse. the warm, bright rays of sunlight peek through the curtains and cast an angelic glow on half of your face. he can’t help it when his hand reaches out, lithe fingers tracing the lines of your jaw, from just beneath your ear all the way down to your chin. your eyelashes flutter against the tops of your cheeks as you begin to stir, smiling upon meeting satoru’s familiar cerulean irises. hand moving up to caress your cheek, he jokes about how lucky you are to wake up to such a handsome face every morning but behind his jesting words and signature smirk, he knows it’s the other way around. he’s the one who hit the jackpot.

✰ GETO often finds it difficult to sleep through the entire night which means he’s up while you’re still resting. he doesn’t like the thought of disturbing you so, instead of feeling around for his phone or sneaking off to the kitchen, he stays put beside you in bed. your back is facing him, unobstructed by the fabric of a shirt. he reaches out to touch you faintly, just barely making contact with your soft skin. his middle finger hovers, following the curve of your spine from your neck all the way down to the dip of your lower back. for as long as you’re still sleeping, suguru occupies himself by languidly outlining pretty patterns across your back. you wake to his feathery touch, stretching out your arms and legs before rolling over to face him. suguru greets you with a smile, his face framed by thick pieces of hair that escaped his loose bun sometime last night. you tell him good morning through a yawn as you stroke the rogue strands of hair. the both of you spend the rest of your time in bed planning the day ahead while your fingers detangle the ends of his inky hair and his fingers continue to aimlessly draw lines across the blank canvas of your back.

✰ YUUJI is a clingy sleeper; there’s never a morning when you don’t wake up to him wrapped around you like a koala bear, serving as a second blanket. you wouldn’t be able to move even if you tried, but you don’t attempt to leave his arms for a while after you wake. you cherish the warmth he envelops you in. it’s comfortable enough that you can feel yourself slipping back into a restful slumber, but you fight the urge to fall back asleep. the moment you shift as though you plan on getting up from bed, yuuji’s arms tighten around your midsection and he lets out a sleepy groan in protest. stay a little longer, he pleads, the warmth of his breath sending a chill down your spine and making the hairs on the back of your neck stand. it’s impossible to say no to him on most occasions but it’s especially difficult with that morning voice of his. so you stay put and let him snuggle into you. you can feel the smile tugging at his lips as he presses light, soft kisses to your neck and shoulders. his affection is distracting and by the time you get a glimpse of the clock, it’s long past the time you had planned on getting up.

✰ MEGUMI sleeps peacefully, as though he isn’t plagued by a problem in the world. it’s one of the few moments you can be certain he’s free from the stress that seems to follow him during the day. because he looks so tranquil, you can’t help but take a few minutes to look at him after you wake up; his pink parted lips and the long, thick lashes that brush the tops of cheeks. dark strands of hair fall over his face and you almost reach out to push them back when his gravelly voice cuts through the serene air. are you going to stare at me all morning? he asks, eyes still shut, words jumbled since his cheek is pressed up against his arm. you smile, telling him that maybe you just might. his eyes are open by now and the sleepy blue orbs meet yours. despite his words, he doesn’t mind your lingering gaze. megumi finds comfort in being the subject of your stare; not for some selfish reason like being the only person you look at in such a way, but because he can feel every ounce of love behind your eyes. and so, without any objection, he lets you comb his unruly hair back with your fingers, never once taking his eyes off of you or the warm smile you wear while doing so.

hai, it's your friendly neighborhood sua! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #geto x reader #yuji x reader #megumi x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen headcanons

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mncxbe · 9 months

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pls pls pls can i pls ask for a part 3 of taking a bath with them ??? maybe with fyodor nikolai and sigma ??? i LOVED the other two parts you made , they are amazing !

TYSM I'm so happy to hear that and yes of course I'll make a DoA part. I romanticized Fyodor so much oh my I loved writing his part. Hope you enjoy dear♡ also tysm for 150 followers love you guys

Taking a bath with them♡ p3

𝑭𝒚𝒐𝒅𝒐𝒓, 𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒎𝒂, 𝑵𝒊𝒌𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒊 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff/ slight smut♡

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: mentions of drowning in Nikolai's part but it's silly

𝑭𝒚𝒐𝒅𝒐𝒓

due to his occupation he has to change hideouts/ houses quite often so y'all always use your tub.

not a big fan of bubbles but enjoys herbal scented oils

due to his anemia Fyodor can't handle really hot baths so the water is lukewarm most of the times

he's usually the one who pampers you, but after a harsh day he may let you wash his back and hair (let's be honest he needs it)

play some classical music, light a candle and brew him a cup of tea and he's all yours for the rest of the night

may not show it all the time but he's so grateful for spending time like this with you

It was around 10 p.m and you were getting ready to sleep when you heard a faint knock on your door.

"Yes?" you asked quietly as not to disturb the neighbours; the walls in your apartment building tended to be quite thin.

"It's me, my love" spoke the man from the other side.

You immediately unlocked the door and let your boyfriend inside, throwing your arms around his neck. "I missed you so much Fedya" you said in a sweet voice, gaining a chuckle from him.

Fyodor caressed the small of your back with his gloved hands, gently squeezing the plush of your hips "There, there darling. Thanks for letting me in."

"Of course"

You stepped away from him, giving him space to undress. Watching him stuggle to untie his shoelaces and hang his hoat, you couldn't help but notice how exhausted he looked.

"Tough day at work?" you asked, raising a brow.

"Yes, my love." he confessed, trying to keep his composure. Fyodor was still in the process of learning to be vulnerable around you so he tried to keep up appearances most of the time. Yet, he could not fool you.

"Would you like me to fix a bath for us? It'll help you wind down a little."

"That would be most wonderful, my dearest." he nodded, trying to suppress the smile that rose to his lips.

"Alright. Just give me a moment."

Around twenty minutes later the bath was finally ready. You had filled the tub to the brim with tepid water and threw in a few drops of his favourite essential oils: wintergreen and sweet orange.

"Mm it smells amazing sweetheart" he stated as he entered the bathroom. A slight smirk made his way to his lips when he saw you in the tub. "But I may love the sight of you even more"

He quickly took off his clothes and joined you, silently enjoying the pink tint that stained your cheeks.

After a few minutes in the water Fyodor started getting sleepy so he let his head fall back and closed his eyes. The sweet fragrance of the oils was soothing his senses and the water was just warm enough to relax his tense muscles.

He suddenly opened his eyes when he felt you shift closer to him. "Come on, Fedya, let me wash your hair."

Normally he would refuse, but considering his state he couldn't muster up the energy to say no. He simply turned his back to you, relishing the feeling of your lithe fingers gently massaging his scalp; at some point you started slowly humming a familiar melody. His shoulders jolted faintly at the sound of your voice.

"Ah, дорогая. I didn't know you liked Tchaikovsky."

"Well, I'm starting to enjoy classical music. I wonder why." you teased, placing a kiss on his cheek. You quickly rinsed off the shampoo and conditioned his hair before washing his back and shoulders. Tonight, your boyfriend was more quiet than usual but you didn't mind it; simply having him by your side again was enough.

"And you're all done" you informed him as you washed away the remainings of soap. "Ready to go to bed now?"

Fyodor nodded and got up, wrapping a towl around himself. "Thank you, my dearest." he said as he helped you out of the tub "I cherish you with all my heart."

"It's really nothing, мой любимый." you replied, struggling to pronounce the foreign words correctly.

Your partner chuckled and gently stroked your head; his violet eyes were gleaming with pride. "I see you're also learning Russian. Я горжусь тобой"

"Er... I didn't get that far yet." you babbled shyly, tucking a loose strand of hair behing your ear. Fyodor's lips curled into a smile.

"I said I'm proud of you~"

Once you were in bed your partner's arms snaked around your waist, pulling you into a tight embrace. He thanked you again for sharing this moment with him and showed his gratitude by leaving a trail of feathery kisses along your neck.

"Mm Fedya let's go sleep. It's late" you whispered, attempting to conceal the hint of desire in your voice.

"All right, my love. But I'd like to ask you one more thing before." he chuckled lightly

"What is it?"

"Sing me some more next time we do this."

𝑵𝒊𝒌𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒊

this man's bathroom is full of mirrors you cannot change my mind; the floor has those black and white tiles and the tub is in the middle of the room

doesn't mind bubble baths but he has a strange fascination for bath bombs

he is so handsy oml

every five minutes he's like "Riddle me this, dove" and begins to tell you all sorts of silly riddles

performs magic tricks for you if you ask him

"Kolya... I think that's enough". For the past ten minutes you've been watching your lover throw bath bomb after bath bomb in your square shaped tub.

"Nah one more dove I promise I'll be done." He spoke the words in his usual perky voice, without averting his gaze from the fizzy bubbles that rose to the surface. The water was coloured in a hue of pink, red and purple, resembling the twilight sky.

"Alright dove, hop in" he finally said before sliding in the ceramic tub.

You carefully slipped out of the silk robe that you were wearing and joined your boyfriend; as you were about to seat yourself, he swiftly hooked an arm around your waist and pulled you into his lap, deliberately pressing you against his pelvis.

"Oh take care pretty girl. You're going to get me all riled up" he snickered, running his fingers up and down your thigh.

"Aha so it's my fault now" you teased, narrowing your eyes at him.

He flashed you a suggestive smile before resting his chin on your shoulder; your eyes started darting around the room. No matter how many times you took a bath in Nikolai's bathroom you could never get used to the eerie atmosphere: the walls were covered in mirrors, making you lose the sense of space.

The biggest mystery was the source of light; the room was dimly lit, the golden light seeminly coming from the mirrors themselves.

"A magician doesn't reveal his tricks, dove" stated your partner whenever you asked him about the strange luminescence.

This time was no different. The feeling of nervousness was starting to take over you, your heart beating faster. The sudden change in your demeanour caused your partner to giggle.

"Aww is my little dove getting anxious? Now we can't have that let me help you relax a little"

His lithe digits gently squeeze the upper part of your thigh, moving closer to your core. You tried to seize his wrist but he stopped you.

"Nuh uh dolly. Be good and stay still for me, will you?" he purred, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear.

Your cheeks began to bloom with colour at his daring words, but you laid back against his chest.

"Good" he chuckle, resuming his movements. His thumb brushed over your clit, gaining a soft moan from you. Nikolai's ministrations continued for a couple of minutes, his needy hands not leaving any part of you untouched; his lips trailed along your neck, leaving lovebites and sweet kisses.

Your tense muscles slowly began to relax, every tender touch leaving you yearning for more. Your breath hitched when his digits finally slid along your folds, lightly parting them before...

"That's about enough, my dove. You're going to get all wrinkly if we don't get out of the water."

"Nah, just a few more minutes please" you whined, drawing his hand close to your core again.

"Look how impatient you are now, how cute. I'll give you more when we get to bed" he cooed, gently pinching your cheek.

You still insisted on staying a few more minutes, just to spite him; but he ultimately agreed.

"I'm surprised you agreed to take a bath with me again. Considering what happened last time..." he eventually said

"What? Oh yea you tried to drown me in this fizzy water."

"Yes, I did" he snickered as he placed his index finger under your chin and made you face him. "But you know why I stopped?"

You shook your head, holding his loving gaze; his eyes bore a shadow of longing.

"Well, my little dove, I decided to be selfish for once in my life. I figured that loving you in captivity is better than hoping that our dead souls will be bound for all eternity."

𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒎𝒂

it takes a while to convince him to bathe with you, but he'll do whatever it takes to please you

has both a regular tub and a jacuzzi in his casino

he treats you like a queen and blushes so hard when he sees you naked for the first time

Sigma doesn't have much free time so the baths don't usually last long, but he makes the most of that time

lets you wash and braid his hair and is incredibly fond of lavender and vanilla scented candles

You liked the sky casino: with its glitz and sophisticated night life. Seemingly a pretty normal place during the day, the casino turned into an airborne Sin City at night. The crystal chandeliers were all gleaming, music was roaring, drinks were poured and guests wearing glamorous garments walked the hallways of the gambling house till the sun came up.

But what you loved most about the casino was its manager. You don't remember exactly when the two of you got this close, but Sigma was now one of the people you cherished most in life. He was a caring boyfriend and although he didn't have much free time on his hands he always managed to spend a couple of hours with you every day.

Tonight he prepared a bath for the two of you. When you entered the bathroom adjoining your bedroom, you were instantly struck by the light scent of lavender.

Sigma was crouching next to the tub, testing the water.

"Hey honey" you chuckled "What are you doing?"

His head snapped towards you at the sound of your voice. "Oh, hi Y/N. I got a bath ready for us. Will you join me?"

He extended a hand for you and, before taking it, you quickly stripped off your cocktail dress and tip toed to him. Although you were still wearing your lingerie, your boyfriend's face turned a pretty shade of pink. He carefully twirled you around once, admiring your figure.

"Gorgeous as ever, darling" he smiled as he briefly pulled you into a hug. "Now get in the tub before the water turns cold, okay?"

You stepped out of your undergarments while he took off his clothes and soon you were both immersed in the scented water.

The night sky was visible through the large window of the bathroom; it was tinged an inky black, like the depths of the sea. The stars always appeared washed out from the ground, but up here they gleamed like sapphires.

You ran your fingers through Sigma's silky hair, gently separating it into strands.

"What are you doing back there?" he asked playfully, trying to turn to face you.

"Stay still, hon. I'm just braiding your hair."

You entwined his white and lilac curls, forming a beautiful pattern. During this time your partner was anxiously checking his clock.

"Do you need to leave already?" you asked in an understanding tone.

"Not yet. But some important guests will be arriving tomorrow at noon and I haven't managed to learn anything about them yet."

"Oh don't worry darling. You'll do great"

"I suppose..." he muttered.

After finishing his last braid, you spun him around so that you were facing each other. Your arms snaked around his neck and you pressed his forehead against yours.

"Listen to me, love. You're incredible at your job but you work too much. Take some time to relax, ok? You deserve it more than anyone."

You spoke tenderly, placing feathery kisses all over his face. Sigma's hands grabbed the plush of your hips, pulling your body closer to his and kissed you. He wasn't usually the one to initiate such saccharine affections, so his boldness took you by surprise. Nevetheless you indulged him, your manicured nails languidly grazing the back of his neck.

Your partner deepened the kiss as a response to your actions and tugged you impossibly close to him. Whenever Sigma kissed you, you saw the starry sky behind your closed eyes.

The tender moment was abruptly interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Sir?" spoke a man in meek voice "I know you've specifically requested not to be disturbed tonight, but you are needed in the game room. There's been a misunderstanding between two players."

"I'll be there in a moment" Sigma responded, trying his best to conceal the annoyance in his voice. The steps of the valet soon faded in the distance.

"I'm sorry I have to go so soon, love. I promise I'll make it up to you"

"There's no need, my angel." you hummed "I'll wait for you in bed, okay?"

He nodded eagerly before stepping out of the tub; you watched him dry himself with the white towels you kept under the sink and hurriedly put on his clothes. His heels clicked against the tiled floor as he made his way to the door.

"See you soon!" he chimed, closing the door with a thud.

After your partner had left, your gaze turned once again to the infinite blackness beyond the window. Then and there, your realized that you were in face a night sky too; and your lover was the multitude of stars that made you shine bright like a diamond.

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lunarmoves · 3 months

Text

“let’s go out.”

you hum and idly scroll through a post on your phone, lounging on the soft cushions of your couch. “okay. where do you wanna go?”

“no.” moon makes a frustrated sound and you can see his lithe form move from the corner of your eye. he stands next to the couch, leaning partially over the arm you’re resting your head on. you spare him a quick glance, an eyebrow raised. his eyes are wide and imploring. “let’s go out.”

confusion begins to take root and it causes you to set your phone down on your chest. you stare strangely up at him. “….i said okay? is there any place you have in mind? it’s not too late if you wanna go on a walk somewhere.”

when all moon does is groan and withdraw to pace around your little dining table, you finally pull yourself up into a sitting position to watch him. milky moonlight streaming in through the open windows of your living room illuminates the area and allows you to see the deep-seeded frown on moon’s face plate. his eyes are an encompassing ruby color that’s aimed down at the ground as he grumbles to himself.

you scrunch your face slightly, then relax it and prop your head up on the back of the couch to watch the animatronic. “…i’m confused.”

moon makes a disgruntled sound that borders on an irritation of sorts—towards you or himself, you’re uncertain. “you’re not getting it.” his voice is raspy and exasperated.

he promptly stops his pacing and moves back towards you, rounding the couch and causing you to move with the motion until he’s crouched in front of you. even with his lowered height, he’s not much shorter than your seated form. he grips tightly onto your shoulders and brings his face close to yours—forcing you to stare into his wide eyes. like they are trying to tell you something important that you’re just not understanding at the moment. you don’t know why he’s acting this way. it’s starting to worry you.

“you and i,” moon begins slowly, trying to make you follow along properly this time, “let’s go out. together.”

you’re not sure why he says it that way, but it makes something tug at the inside of your chest as you slowly process his words. his mannerisms. the terse way he holds onto you. the soft glow of his eyes as he watches you carefully and pays attention to even the smallest movements of your expression. his face plate ticks to the side slightly, then to the opposite side, and you recognize it as one of his anxious ticks. but then you wonder why he’s so nervous when it’s just—

“oh.” it finally clicks. your eyes widen as a heat burns up your neck and into your face. “oh.”

“yes,” moon groans as his head falls forward. the tip of it brushes against your chest. his grip slackens on your shoulders, almost in relief.

embarrassment aside, you can’t help the soft chuckle that leaves your lips. you move a hand to pat him on the back. “silly. just say you wanna go on a date instead of being so cryptic!” internally, you ponder on why he was so shy to say it outright, but figure he was just, well, being moon. gentle and not as outspoken as his counterpart.

he only grumbles something indecipherable that makes your shoulders shake in a laugh. and when he reluctantly looks up at you, it’s with a pout that you find endearing. “well?” he prods instead of replying to you, soft and expectant.

you give him a small grin and can’t help but tease him. “well,” you say with lighthearted mirth, “where do you wanna go?”

#typical moon having difficulty with words #dca x reader #daycare attendant x reader #moon x reader #fnaf moon x reader #moon x self insert #moon x y/n #fnaf moon x y/n #dca x y/n #dca x self insert #dca x you #moondrop x reader #moondrop x y/n #shay scribbles daydreams

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blueparadis · 4 months

Text

//CWs —>alpha!gojo x omega!fem!reader, switch!alpha, just hints of abo verse. primal play. will never get over the duality of this man.

The first time when you are about to get cozy and intimate with your boyfriend, Satoru he is painted with nothing but shyness. He is practically sitting at the corner of the bed, hands locked and head down; eyes sneaking in your direction every other minute to check if . . . you are beckoning him or not. It is embarrassing actually, to think that he would be this nervous to do what he is about to do, to you. Heck! the first time you kissed him he had stayed silent for the whole day. Shoko and Suguru constantly kept asking if something was up but he just brushed it off asking him to leave him alone. It was like his whole body was on reboot. And, the most embarrassing part of all this is that you just gave him a little peck on his cheeks. Yes, on the cheeks.

But it is not like he hasn't thought of you in less holy ways for being shy and not taking upon your advances as he should. He has, and every time he would get a boner. So, eventually, he learned to deal with it; regulate his longing for you, the raging hormones and his stupid heart that beats like crazy whenever he is with you. Then again, when your lips finally touched his, it took a few seconds for him to settle in, to process the fact that all those wet dreams he had about you might just become true.

You think Satoru is just being shy, and you always found that adorable about him yet now you are pinned down on the bed, his grip making your hands immobile to place them along your ears and the only sound penetrating this silence is his hard panting. Don't get him wrong he loved the feeling of your fingers skimming through his undercut, tugging on your hair as you kissed him but right now, all he knows is that he can not let go of you, he has to satiate this hunger inside of him that has been building for months otherwise it is going to drive him in utter lunacy.

So, when he is done staring at you the first thing he does is to suck at your neckline, biting at the end and inhaling your scent. It has lingered on his mind since the first time he shared a hug with you. The kisses continue, and every time you exhale it gets heavier. He does not even forget to soothe the areas he bit, he licks them afterwards. His knee nestles in between your legs as you try to move, and fidget with your hands in hopes of letting his grip become a little lithe yet all you feel is his grip getting stronger; a minute later he pulls away asking with a restless look on his face, "What? What's wrong?" He almost seems annoyed. You catch up on your breath when he notices your taut nipples.

"Do that again," you murmur in between your breaths and finally, when your breathing becomes even you just look at him in the eye without any hesitation it makes him raise an eyebrow.

"So, you liked that huh?" he adds before going down on you.

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pigcowboys · 6 months

Note

hiii!!! may i request headcannons or smth for doing arts n crafts or pottery with percy pleaseee!!! :3 thank youuu have a nice dayyy

pairing: percy jackson x gn!reader

warning(s): mutual pining, kissing, fluff, incorrect pottery knowledge, physical touch.

summary: percy helps you with your pottery assignment

a/n: HI!! TYSM FOR REQUESTING :D, this request is adorable too I’ve always loved this pottery trope it’s so cliche 😭😭 im currently working on the missing FIC but! I wanted to post SOMETHING cause it’s been so long.

happy halloween to anyone who celebrates it!

percy peered into the arts and craft room curiously, looking around at the abandoned looking room. a smile made its way onto his face as he took notice of you, practically skipping over to you.

you huffed as you picked at the dried up clay on your hands, flinching slightly when percy slung a hand over you, pulling you towards him with a smile.

“what’re you doing?” he asked, peering over your shoulder curiously. you barely moved, adjusting your shoulder so he’d rest comfortably.

“making — or well, trying to make a vase.” you turned to look at him through your peripheral. percy stared at the discombobulated mess of clay that he assumed was your attempt at that.

“i’m guessing this is a more..artistic take on that.” he joked, nuzzling his face further into your shoulder. “did you come here to laugh at me or something?”

“truth? maybe.” he grinned. “that and, i just missed you.” you rested your head against his own which laid in the crook of your shoulder, cradling it with your clay stained hands.

“flattery will get you nowhere, percy.” you smiled at him. “but, i missed you too.” you leaned forward, moving Percy’s head out of your shoulder in the process. he moved to sit beside you, looking at the mess in front of you with a confused look. you met his gaze, offering him a dazed grin.

“do you want some help?”

“yes, please.”

percy laughed slightly, standing up and plopping down behind you. you adjusted to the feeling of him behind you, giggling slightly when his hands brushed your rib cage as it came to hold onto your waist.

you eyed him curiously before clearing the kiln of any excess clay. Percy watched closely as you placed a fresh lump of clay onto the wheel, watching closely as you began to toy with the shape of the clay. his head found it’s way over your shoulder as he braved against your back, removing his hands for your waist.

your breath caught in your throat at the proximity but paid it no mind, pushing down your anxiety in favor of focusing.

“here,” you said, motioning for Percy to bring his hands forward to which he did, hovering on the wheel with uncertainty as he waited for your next command. “shape the lower half, i’ll work on the top half, okay?”

percy hummed in agreement, leaning to the right of you as he used his lithe fingers to curve the lower half of the vase. you two worked in tandem despite the close proximity and the straying thoughts that would flash in your mind every few minutes about how you could feel percy’a breath against your neck.

you felt like you were going crazy, especially when your hands absentmindedly wander further down towards the lower half of the vase, grazing Percy’s own hands which were moving up at the same time. in real time the contact only lasted about a minute or two but you felt like the lasted well over ten.

it seriously didn’t help when Percy inched forward as you were turning to observer the wall mounted clock in the arts in crafts room, locking eyes with him for moment before whipping your head back to focus on what you were actually supposed to be doing.

the situation was so awkward and it was only punctuated by percy talking enthusiastically about something that crossed his mind as you tried your best to listen to what he had to say. though, at this point you were down for the count and there wasn’t anyway to just slip out from the position you’d put yourself in.

your mind wandered and you turned to look at percy as he spoke, mind getting caught on the pinkish hue of his lips. they looked, regular — you guessed. just..really nice. and inviting. and cute kind of? can lips be cute? maybe not, but, his were.

Percy trailed off as he caught wind of the fact you were zoned out, fixating his eyes towards wherever it was you were looking at and flushing when he did. a nervous laugh slipped through him that caused you to snap out your daze as he murmured out your name.

“you’re not listening are you?”

“i am.”

“y’know I hate that I doubt that.”

you frowned, a bad attempt at looking offended by the complete and total truth that Percy was accusing you of doing.

“what makes you think I’m not?” you asked, turning back to focus on shaping the clay. percy stilled for a moment before leaning forward, breath fanning against the shell of your ear.

“ the fact you keep staring longingly at my lips.”

you flinched at the sound of his voice, whipping your head back to look at him and simultaneously digging into the clay that was still rotating. you cursed, removing your hands from the wheel as you shifted out from your spot in-front of Percy.

he looked at you with slight amusement as he stopped the spinning, getting up to follow after you, who had walked over to the sink — washing your hands furiously while also trying to calm your racing heart.

percy walked over slowly, observing you silently before taking a spot next to you to wash his hands. you didn’t spare him a glance when he did, only shifting slightly so he’d get access to the sink as well.

“ are you embarrassed or something?” he spoke up suddenly

“wh—” You snapped your head towards Percy with a genuine look of bewilderment in your face. “no!” you frowned at him, heart beating in your ears and he stared you down. well, you had to give it to him, the guy had amazing eye contact.

“you just caught me off guard.”

“caught off guard or caught red handed?”

“caught off guard.”

percy looked at you like he trying to analyze you, hands flapping in the wind as he shook off the water that was on his hands. you turned your back towards him, reaching for the towel that was a near the sink, drying your hands. now, how were you supposed to come up with an excuse that could get you out of this?

“hey,” Percy spoke once more, a slight seriousness in the tone of his voice. you turned your head towards him curiously. “we could try it.”

“try..?”

“kissing.”

“each other?” you asked, complete shock on your face.

“no, the clay.” he quipped, expression faltering when his response was met with silence from your end. “it’s..okay if you don’t want to — i just thought it would be.. uhm, good for practice?”

“yeah, cause i kiss people every other month or so.”

he shrugged. “you could be living a double life.” you shot him a look, a sigh escaping you. he wasn’t joking right? like, this wasn’t a prank..right? you racked your brain from specifics, trying your hardest to walk through the idea before reluctantly opting to give into it.

it was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

“c’mere,” you murmured, and Percy obeyed your order almost immediately. your breath caught in your throat as he approached you carefully, placing his hand on your shoulder. you looked up at him like a deer in headlights, causing a laugh — or more like a cackle to escape his lips.

you gave him an unamused look. percy smiled warmly, clearing his throat before moving his hands towards the underside of your chin, angling it up. you closed your eyes expectantly, gulping as Percy’s breath fanned over your lips.

he hesitated for a moment before leaning in and locking lips with you after a pause. you pursued your lips against his own, hands coming to rest on his chest as you fiddled with the strings of his hoodie.

you were stiff in his hold, something that he could feel as he pressed into your body. his other hand reached up to rest on your hands which was rested against his chest in attempt to soothe your nerves. you relaxed in his hold, titling your head slightly as you pull back for air before going back in.

Percy pulled away from the kiss finally, a small sigh escaping his lips as he gazed at you longingly. he opened his mouth to say something, lips pressing shut as he stood in silence. you felt as if it was now your turn to ease the tension, a smile breaking out on your face in an attempt to soothe his fears.

“that was..a solid 8/10..”

percy grinned, removing his hand from under your chin as he cradled your torso. “2 points off?” he smiled. “How come?”

You shrugged. “you were pretty stiff.”

“you’re talking?”

you punched him playfully, sliding out of his grip carefully as you inches back towards the wheel.

“come on, let’s finish this, okay?” you turned towards him. “i’lil let you do a redo afterwards.”

percy stared at you with starstruck eyes, briskly walking back over to the pottery station.

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #x reader fluff #x reader #pjo fluff

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stormgardenscurse · 1 month

Text

‘do you remember? back when…’

Summary: a childhood friends AU! Well, Lilia’s is more like ‘back in our youth’ rather than childhood, but you get the gist.

Characters: Lilia, Malleus, Riddle, Jamil, Vil

Content warning: the Reader is gender neutral, but it’s mentioned they’ve worn dresses in Malleus’ part.

If you liked this, consider checking out my TWST Isekai Fanbook, now digitally available on my kofi!

Lilia Vanrouge

Back when you were both training to be knights, you mistook Lilia for a girl at first.

In your defense, it’s simply because of how pretty he is, yet so cutthroat and lithe on his feet that you swear this is what they mean by ‘angels of death’ descending on a battlefield.

Lilia calls you weird for comparing him to that when he much prefers to think of himself as some type of demon, or harbinger of doom.

“Do I still not look intimidating enough for you?” He’d asked, sharp teeth flashing with the question as the both of you leaned against the railings on the castle rooftop. Lilia angles his head back to gaze at you, and you think to yourself how it exposes the pale skin of his neck, which he’d never show to any opponent in a fight.

Two of your fingers reach to tap on that expanse of skin, causing Lilia to freeze from the contact. He tilts his head, comfortable enough that he hasn’t decided to shove you away yet.

“It’s just… you seem more mortal to me.” You shrug. “As mortal as a fae can be, anyways. I can reach out and touch you, and I would walk away unharmed.”

“That’s because I allow you to.” Lilia rolls his eyes. He finally steps away, picking up his weapon — heavy and gleaming emerald. From beneath his lashes, he gives you a challenging smile as he flips and catches it in his hand. “Care to spar before we turn in for the night?”

“Maybe you’re a vampire after all.” You pretend to be tired of his late requests, but follow Lilia down to the training grounds regardless. “The kind that human kingdoms are romanticizing in their newest novels. Sparkly under the sunlight.”

“If you’d like to sleep already, I’d be more than happy to croon you a lullaby.”

“You’ll only do so after I’m defeated on the ground, I’m sure.” With a pause, you give Lilia a proposal. “If I win, I’ll sing to you instead. But I’m not carrying you back to your dorm.”

“Oh? It’s a deal, then.”

Ever since, you can’t be sure if Lilia likes to throw your sparring matches just for the chance to hear you sing. You don’t often do so (you’re knights, after all), so he regards it as a secret side of you that only he gets to witness. You only come to this contemplation after feelings spark between you — face flushed as you wonder what to do next when you’ve fallen for someone so impossible.

He’s already been keeping you up at night with his nocturnal tendencies and hangouts… and now this?!

Malleus Draconia

It helps that as children, you never truly processed who Malleus was until a little later in your friendship. You were told he’s the son of the royal advisor, and so you prattled to him with questions of what the crown prince is like. He’d answer vaguely, sometimes saying that His Royal Highness has bad habits, and you’d nod along, hanging onto his every word.

Malleus soon realizes that you don’t care as much for ‘the prince’ as much as you did for him as your mysterious friend. You were both lonely noble-children, and you enjoyed sharing treats, flowers, and any new thing you could with Malleus. Once, he even tried on the trendiest dresses with you out of curiosity, and you lamented the fact that he could’ve made a beautiful girl.

No one would dare say that to him in any lifetime, other than you. Though to be fair, you didn’t know he was the prince yet.

“Flowers look wonderful in your hair! Since it’s dark, they stand out.” You continue weaving yellow and blue blooms into Malleus’ locks. “...Hey, what do you think life would be like if we were regular children?”

“Not nobles, you mean?” He hums, helping you decorate your hair once you’re done with his. He casts an easy spell to dye your hair with highlights to match the dress. “I suppose we’d be towns-children frolicking without a care in the world.”

“We’d still be friends, right…?”

Malleus pauses at the anxious edge in your voice. Perhaps you were just as reliant on this comforting friendship as he was. He tells himself to hide his status for a little while longer. “Of course. Our parents would still be acquainted, and we’d still have playdates — only running through the roads rather than castle halls.”

It’s hard to find a real friend amongst noble children. Some cling to their families, others are picky or judgmental, and…

A lot are only friends for as long as the other is useful.

“We should have an outing in the city one day.” You smile, trying to fight away the heavy air. “I’m sure you’d like the marketplace. I’ve only seen it from inside a carriage, but it looks fun.”

Soon, the outing is arranged. However…

“Before we go, there’s something I need to tell you.” Malleus takes your hands in his, squeezing them as if to ground himself in the moment. Time passes quickly for the fae, but his heart is beating out of his chest at what your reaction might be.

…He ends up delaying this reveal until the end of your excursion. But the last thing he expects is for your eyes to well up with tears and for you to latch onto him in a hug.

“I’m… I’m so sorry—! If only I was more reliable, you wouldn’t have to keep this a secret, and…”

As you let out a hiccup and continue apologizing, Malleus’ confusion melts into a soft smile, hugging you back.

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle’s mother didn’t know about your existence for a while, as you’d always sneak over to his window after she left the house. You claimed you knew how accomplished his family is, so you told Riddle you’d prepare for a better impression in the future! “That way, we can hang out normally or study together!”

Truth be told, the only studying you’re interested in is with practical magic — as another child with an affinity with magic, you’ve been going to the library often to read up on theories, experimenting with what spells you can do.

As worried as Riddle is for your safety (you’ve been doing all this without supervision), he’s also very curious about watching magic unfold from your own hands. You showed him a color changing spell once, surprising him by appearing with a different appearance — it was cute how he panicked, thinking you went ahead and dyed your entire head pink.

“And nothing hurts? No side effects?” He asked.

“Nope! And one day, we can both attend a magic school and do spells like these all the time!”

One day… Despite how he’s temporarily stuck at home still, adhering to his mother’s strict rules, he clings onto the hope that it’ll fruition in him becoming a great mage. Then, when that happens, he can be the one to wow you with magic you haven’t seen before. Just as you have all these months, visiting with the intention of cheering him up or encouraging him.

On rare days, you manage to sneak Riddle out of the window for a quick visit to the park or library. There, with his heart thumping out of his chest, he’d marvel at the world you’re so familiar with already, and so willing to place into his unsteady palms.

“Can you read that?” You ask, pointing at a passage in a history book. While technically rebelling, you still chose a book on the same topic Riddle was meant to study at home.

“Yes, it’s…” As Riddle translates the scripture, he realizes you’re listening very intently. And all of a sudden, the closeness of your seats in the corner of the library makes him flush, realizing how you’ve always spoken to him kindly. Different from the playful tones you used at the start of your friendship, or currently do with the acquaintances he’s seen you greet along the way.

It’s been a while since he’s felt special, especially as the sentiment expired after years of his mother claiming he had a gift; that because he had the potential to be perfect, it'd come at a price of overwhelming pressure.

So why does your kind of ‘special’ feel like a balm?

Jamil Viper

Between his busy schedule working for the Al-Asims, it’s all Jamil can do to relax in the solitude of his own room… that is, until you’re temporarily displaced from your own, and have been allocated to bunk with Jamil since he’s ‘very capable’ and close to your age. Another bed is moved in. There’s still space, but Jamil dislikes having his privacy encroached upon.

The two of you never interacted before this, but he’s seen you around the mansion before doing chores and learning from the head servants. You aren’t too chatty, Jamil thinks, until you finally break it to him after the night of a banquet (the both of you too tired to keep up appearances, slumped on your respective beds), that he frowns a lot. And that’s why you haven’t spoken to him much until now.

Jamil blinks once, then twice. “I do?” He’s always been good at controlling his facial expressions—

“Yeah, when you think people aren’t looking.” You raise a finger in the air. “Especially when the meals aren’t to your liking, you tend to look around with judgmental eyes.”

“So you watch me when we’re at work.”

“Only because you never looked like you wanted to talk.” It’s not accusatory, merely an observation from you. With a sigh, Jamil falls on his back against the mattress. “Did you see the performers at the banquet?”

“The dancers were great. I saw them practicing in the morning before the event.” Jamil answers. It’s the first time you’re having a proper conversation, and while he’s not as chatty as Kalim (who he’s normally assigned to watch), you feel at ease.

“I remember them! The kitchen was handing out meals to the staff, and I was one of the delivery people.”

“Did you help cook too? There wasn’t enough salt in the curry.”

“You—! Then come and help us yourself!”

“Too much work.” Jamil pushes himself up on his elbows just to stick his tongue out at you, before turning to lay on his side. “We should rest. Tomorrow the guests are leaving, so the suites have to be cleaned.”

Even after you move back to your room, you spend time with Jamil, running off to the market after visiting family, and watching street performers and food vendors go about their day. On rare occasions, you knock on his window when you have a bad dream, and Jamil groggily holds up a conversation until you’ve calmed down. The stars are especially twinkly on those nights, as if they’re another witness to the friendship you shared beneath busy days and tall adults.

“Do you think we’d make good adults, Jamil?”

“Not many adults are good at it either. So we’ll be fine.”

“Well… That’s true. Goodnight, Jamil.”

“...Goodnight. Sleep tight.”

Vil Schoenheit

When you first met Vil as kids, you were intimidated by him not because he acted in evil roles, but because he had the aura of an adult.

“It’s weird… you look my age, but walk and talk like a grown-up.”

“Hm, I guess that’s not too bad of an impression. …What’s your name?”

You were next-door neighbors, and suffice to say your interests lied more in pop-culture as an audience rather than as an artist on-stage. It’s a world away from Vil who’s a child-actor and upcoming model, but when he’s not pursuing such work, he’s still just a boy.

…A boy who you were very surprised to see act his age, when he was with his father or smiled as he told you about the movies they starred in. You’d always listen, realizing that while Vil was always pretty, he’s even more eye-catching when he’s rambling about something he’s passionate about. It almost makes you want to grow up quickly too and pursue your own dreams.

No one would see this side of him outside the comfort of your homes, though. Vil has an image to uphold (at least, you’re quite sure he’s trying to craft a persona for the camera, considering how he asks you what you think an actor’s personality should be like), so you try and cover for him when strangers ask about Vil. Giving just enough praise without revealing too much, since they might be reporters:

“He’s really hard-working and nice to others! Vil even explains his work to me if I ask. You can tell he really loves acting.”

“Oh? You sound like you admire him a lot.”

“Well… lots of people do. Once you meet him, you’ll realize he’s like a diamond!”

Word of your comments gets to Vil, and he seems to be in a good mood, explaining to you that it sounds like something a fan would say. “...One day, I’ll have as many fans as my dad does.”

It becomes routine for Vil to knock on your door whenever he gets a new script. He likes having you watch him rehearse and give him your thoughts, amongst other things like discussing the story and causing the both of you to become invested in the plot.

You’re sworn to secrecy, of course, since you can’t leak the movie’s details. And after you’re a bit older, Vil instead makes it a game to read random lines to you, then asking you to make up the rest of the story (it’s a good improv session, even if your conversations devolve into ridiculous scenarios.)

You got each other parting gifts after you were accepted into different colleges; Vil’s to you is a ‘poisoned flower’, which is to say, an artificial flower scented to help you sleep. It’s so you can get proper rest instead of scrolling on your phone, Vil claims. And of course, you’re added into his personal Magicam to get life updates — even now, when asked who you were texting with a smile on your face, you keep Vil’s secret and claim it’s just a childhood friend:

“He’s in Night Raven College.”

“Oh, the same one Vil Schoenheit is in?”

“The very one! Pretty impressive, huh?”

#lilia vanrouge x reader #malleus draconia x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst reader insert #twst x you #twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #storm writings

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merakiui · 3 months

Text

simply business.

yandere!azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, slight nsfw, misogyny, power imbalance, workplace misconduct, abuse of authority, ceo azul, secretary jade note - you'll do anything for this job. mr. ashengrotto wonders if there are limits to your anything.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you in person, Mr. Ashengrotto. Thank you for making time for me today. I can’t begin to imagine how packed your schedule is,” you admit with a gentle laugh.

Just as you practiced with Trey and Riddle, you shake his hand firmly and confidently. Even if most of your poise is feigned to hide a mountain of anxieties, it manages to fool the CEO of Mostro, for he mirrors your amiable greeting with one of his own. Or maybe he sees right through your act and is choosing to remain quiet. You’re not going to think too deeply about that.

“The pleasure’s all mine. You have no idea how startled I was when your application found its way on my desk. Why, I thought I was dreaming.”

If he brings up childhood memories, talk about it. Why not? Trey advised hours earlier, serving you and Riddle individual slices of strawberry tart. Friendship is just as good a connection as the one made through sweets.

Which is very solid guidance coming from a baker.

Even so, she shouldn’t rely solely on past connections. In business, that means nothing if the connection itself isn’t stable and worthwhile enough, Riddle, ever the realist, added with a grimace. We should know. We went to school with him.

Hey, don’t sweat it. You’ll do great, Trey added when he noticed the despairing look you’d given your tart. I’ll bake you something to celebrate, so do your best, be yourself, and bring home good news.

With his and Riddle’s encouragement, you had been so certain of your abilities before, in which you proudly proclaimed you’d get the job and charm Azul in the process, but now you’re not sure. Standing here in his office, thirty-something stories in the clouds, you can’t escape the suffocating fear as it saps the oxygen from the room and renders your lungs vacant.

“I aim to surprise.”

“And surprise you have. Pleasantly, might I add.” He motions for you to sit, to which you comply and lower into the seat across from him. A mahogany desk separates you from a sparkling future. Your gaze pans from him to the man standing a few inches behind, a clipboard and pen held in both hands. Standing isn’t the right word, actually. With his height, all lithe limbs dressed darkly, he looks like a bodyguard ready to escort you to your execution should you make the wrong move. You can handle one pressed suit, but another is too much. And this one looks even more intimidating than Azul with his sharp, stoic stare. “Pay him no mind. Jade’s merely here to make note of our discussion.”

“Ah, I see. Nice to meet you, Mr. Jade.”

He nods his silent acknowledgement, two-toned eyes filling with light.

“Shall we begin?” Azul gathers a few documents, straightens them, and then dives right into the rigmarole. “I must preface this by stating our past friendship has no influence on my decision or the outcome of this interview.”

“Completely understandable,” you blurt, trigger-happy with agreement.

Don’t be a yes-man, Riddle’s words from before float through your head, stern like a parent. You’re human, not some gear meant to strengthen their corporate machine. If they can’t see that, then that’s no environment for you.

“I… Actually, it feels a little awkward talking like this,” you add with a nervous sigh. “With the stakes being so high and everything… It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, but I’m happy you’re doing well for yourself. Oh! I’m not saying that to butter you up or anything! That’s my honest opinion.”

He chuckles. “I’m also pleased to see you again. Although going forward I would like to keep this matter separate from the task at hand.”

“Right. Sorry. We got off topic.”

He flips through the papers—likely your resume and application and any other information he has on file—and hums. “It says here that you have experience managing an online platform. Would you care to elaborate?”

“Oh, that. It was for my friend’s family business. He’s a baker. The shop has a nice reputation in the neighborhood, but they don’t really have any social media presence. My friend and I thought his family could benefit from a website and a Magicam account, so we put both together. I was in charge of creating and managing the website.”

“I see.”

You notice Jade scribbling something and your heart drops into your stomach. “S-So I have experience in design and…stuff.”

Relax. Don’t pay attention to him.

“Then may I assume you’re passionate about photography and graphic design?”

“Very.”

“It’s good to have an eye for aesthetics. I can clearly see that from the samples you submitted. Your portfolio is impressive.”

“Thank you, Mr. Ashengrotto. I take pride in all of my work.”

“In that case, would you mind walking me through your portfolio?”

“I’d be happy to.” You scoot closer to his desk without thinking, gesturing to the prints he’s laid out for you. “That’s the website I designed for my friend. He wanted something simple, family-friendly, and easy to navigate. I had to appeal to both customers from the neighborhood and customers who might be visiting for the first time. Finding a balance was a little difficult, but I made it work after lots of dedicated effort.”

He gestures to another sample and you delve into the lore behind it. This carries on twice more before he indicates his satisfaction with a beaming smile.

“Aren’t you diligent?”

The delivery is more backhanded than you’d care to hear, but you choose to brush it aside. “Thank you.”

“Your baker friend… Are you employed?”

“Oh, not currently! It was just a side gig. A one-time thing.”

“Is that all?”

You open your mouth to reply and then stop. Did you hear him correctly? “Is… Is what all?”

“You may not work for him in that capacity, but you might in another capacity. ‘One-time things’ could snowball into—”

“It didn’t and it never will,” you interrupt. You realize your error seconds later and smooth out the abrasiveness in your tone. “My apologies. I meant to say that I’m not affiliated with him in any of those ways. I’m merely a friend who helped out where she could. Nothing more and nothing less.”

Azul hums flatly, as if disappointed. Jade scribbles. You swallow mounting dread.

What was that about?

“Very well. Moving swiftly on… Can you tell me about yourself? What drew you to this job?”

“I’ve always wanted to manage a social media account for a business like yours. There are so many branches. I think it’d be a very fulfilling experience.”

“Is there a particular branch you’re interested in?”

“Definitely one of your restaurants. I’ve worked with food websites and accounts before, so I have the necessary qualifications you might be seeking.”

“Social media is no easy task. It can be stressful to manage any platform in which you have a following. With that in mind, may I ask how you normally handle stressful or challenging situations?”

“I don’t get stressed very easily. I’m normally very level-headed.”

Liar. I’m so stressed right now. Sweating like crazy and everything!

As if listening in on your thoughts, Jade drags his pen across paper.

“But in the event that you might face such a situation?”

“If such a thing were to occur, I’d take a step back, analyze everything objectively, and see what I can do to mitigate the stress or difficulty that’s cropped up. If it’s a team effort, I’d gather everyone involved for a meeting so that we could discuss together.”

“And if it was an individual effort?”

“It depends on the severity of the stress. If it comes down to it, I’d have no problem notifying my supervisor or manager of the issue firsthand. The sooner you’re made aware of something, the easier it is to draw up a plan of action, right?”

“That can be true, yes.” Azul shuffles his files. “How would others describe you? From the perspective of a friend, perhaps? Or a spouse? Are you married?”

That’s…way too personal. Is that even an interview question? So far he’s asked everything Riddle went over in our mock interview. What’s up with this sudden shift?

You force a stiff laugh. “Not married yet, no…”

“Do you plan to be?”

“Um… I…don’t know. I’m focused on my career right now.”

“Ah, a career woman. Most women your age often settle down. Not you, though. Ambitious thing, aren’t you?”

Your lips twitch into the beginning of a scandalized grimace, but before you can allow your tactful façade to slip you hurry to paste an unruffled grin on your countenance. “I’m passionate,” you smoothly correct. You don’t miss the way Jade’s pen halts before he continues his duty as scribe. “If I may, Mr. Ashengrotto, did you not say you wanted to keep work and personal matters separate?”

“Forgive me. I was only testing you.”

Just what kind of test is that?

“O-Oh. Well, I hope I passed.”

“With flying colors.” He clears his throat. “Now then, what motivates you, Miss (Name)?”

“My friends and family. Myself. The food waiting for me at home.” He quirks a slight smile at that. “I always strive to do my best.”

“A fine attitude to have.”

“Mhm! I like what I do. Every day’s exciting and I love a good challenge.”

No, I don’t. I almost cried on the way here. This is too much of a challenge for me. I didn’t even think I’d get an email back from you…

“You seem like quite the optimist.” He straightens the papers once more and then clips them together. “I appreciate your insightful, honest answers.”

“Oh. Oh! Yes, right! Of course! Thank you for your time.” You practically jump out of your seat to shake his hand.

That was good, right? It felt so fast, but I did well. Right?

“If I may ask one final question…”

“Sure thing!”

Azul smiles. “Just how badly do you want this job?”

More than anything. I need this job. I’m unemployed and desperate. Please, Azul. You have to help me out.

Obviously you can’t phrase it like that, even though the spineless side of you wants to.

“I…would benefit greatly if I was hired. Working for you and your successful company would be an amazing honor.”

“Is that right?” He releases your hand. “All right. The job is yours.”

You blink at him, shocked. “Wait. It is?”

“On one condition.” Azul sits back in his plush office chair. It’s the expensive type. The one with cushions and reclining abilities. “Strip for me.”

Your blood crystallizes in your veins; your heart almost stops. “Excuse me?”

Surely he didn’t just say that. Surely he meant to say something else. Something like…strip all of your worries and accept this position? Your eyes drift over to Jade. He blinks back at you, a razored smile hidden behind his clipboard.

“If you’re willing to go to extremes for this job, prove it.”

“Mr. Ashengrotto… I…” You laugh, but nothing about this is funny. Bile rises in your throat, scalding with sickening acid. “I…”

“Go on then.” Azul waves his hand impatiently, deceptively youthful features twisting with annoyance. “I haven’t got all day.”

Your hands curl into fists, and you dig your nails into your palms so roughly that you break skin. He can’t be serious. He really can’t.

And yet he’s watching you like he expects it.

Again, you look to Jade for help. He lowers his clipboard. “It’s not polite to make one wait, Miss (Name). We pride ourselves on timely efficiency here.”

“But…” You swallow thickly, your hope slowly waning. “But this… This is absurd! I… You must be joking. I can’t possibly—”

“You can,” Azul interjects. “If you want this job, you will do just as I’ve said. Well? The choice is yours. I’ve played my hand.”

Warmth drains from your person until all that’s left is creeping cold.

Oh, you think with devastating resignation, it’s this kind of management. So this is how everyone survives here.

Inhaling through your nose, you steel yourself. Your fingers twitch towards the buttons on your blazer.

“Will I truly get the job?”

“That depends.”

“On what?” you ask, dreading the answer.

“On how far you’re willing to go.”

“C-Can he leave?”

Azul glances at Jade, a sticky smile spreading his lips wide. “Oh, you’ll hurt his feelings with that. How cruel. I can already see the tears brimming in Jade’s eyes.”

“Heartless,” Jade echoes with a sniffle.

You school your scowl into something friendly. “I… I’m sorry, but I don’t feel comfortable with him here…”

“And you do with me? I’m flattered, but our past has nothing to do with this. I’m grateful you bothered to give me a Valentine every school year, but those days are behind us. So stop wasting my time. It’s money, and every second you spend stalling is a Madol lost.”

Your lip trembles, but you don’t cry. You won’t give either of these rotten monsters the satisfaction.

“H-How much do I have to undress to get the job?” You toy with a button, regret pooling in your stomach.

It’s not worth it. I should leave.

You should, but can you?

“We’ll see. I’m feeling generous today, so your fortune may just be favorable.”

Hopeless, you shut your eyes, exhale a defeated breath, and harden your features into something unshakeable.

I’m sorry, Riddle. I’m not a gear here. I’m not even human.

Slowly, while holding unbreakable eye contact, you undo each button on your blazer. You shrug out of it seconds later, dropping it to the floor unceremoniously. Azul and Jade follow your movements like expert predators ensorcelled by prey.

Here, in this hellish bathyal zone, I’m just a whale fall.

From there, you move to your blouse next. You untuck it from your pencil skirt, allowing the fabric to fall freely. Deft fingers work at the buttons, traveling further down until there’s nothing left of the garment protecting your nudity. That, too, joins the slowly forming heap on the floor. The action leaves both men transfixed, and they eye your lacy white bralette as if attempting to sear the sight into their retinas. At one point, Jade decides to write something down. You fondly contemplate all the ways in which he should die.

“Will that be all?”

“Keep going.”

“Haven’t I done enough?”

“If you have room in that mouth to voice complaints, you can stuff it with my—”

You yank your pencil skirt down, silencing the sin that was ready to spill from Azul’s lips. Jade doesn’t muffle his snicker. Again, you fantasize about pushing him out the window.

I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

With trembling hands, you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra. It’s peeled from your chest then, exposing your tits for their ravenous leering. Their silence says enough. After what feels like an eternity, Azul stops you when you start to slide your panties down.

“I’ve seen enough.”

“On the contrary, I’ve yet to have my fill.” Jade smiles at you, hiding behind his clipboard like the coy bastard he is.

You stand there, clutching your bra so tightly your knuckles ache. “Is… Is it over?”

“For now.”

At that, you fall to your knees, wrap your arms around your chest, and suck in great gulps of air. Fixing your stare on the floor, you find yourself unable to meet his azure hues. If you do, you may just vomit. Footsteps click their way over to you. He pauses; you can feel his gaze burning through you. And then his fingers ghost over your bare shoulder, dancing like playful puppets.

“You start Monday. Bright and early,” Azul says. There’s a detached, clinical edge to the fluff. “I expect wonderful things from you, Miss Marketing Manager.”

As if his words have materialized to topple you—to shatter what’s left of your dignity—you almost collapse. Your arms shoot out to catch you; your palms press against the icy tiles. Still, you don’t cry. Jade’s leather shoes enter your line of sight, which immediately dries your ducts. You don’t have to look to see the satisfied smirk sharpening on his lips because you hear it.

“I must thank you for the entertaining show. Perhaps you should have considered a career in acting.” He drapes your blazer over your shoulders for added effect.

It’s the loudest fuck you in the quietest sentence.

I hope you die a million painful deaths, you despotic, disgusting dickhead.

When you finally stagger out of the building—fully clothed and gutted—dropping thirty-something floors from heaven to the sensible earth below in a compact lift, you fish your phone out of your bag. You’re moving on autopilot when you press his contact. Trey answers on the third ring.

“I was waiting for this call. So what’s the news? Am I baking a celebration cake or a consolation cake? I’m ready for either one. Just say the word.”

The tears are already streaming down your face. You wipe them away, smudging your makeup in the process. “No consolation needed. I… I got the job…”

“See? I knew you’d get it. This’ll be the best celebration cake you’ve ever tasted. Just you wait and—hey, you okay? You don’t sound good.”

You open and close your mouth, unable to pull a reply from the dry depths of your throat. For one minute, Trey listens to your soft, hiccuping sobs. “I’m just—” you sniffle— “I’m so happy… I can’t wait to eat cake.”

#yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere azul #yandere azul x reader #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere azul ashengrotto x reader #n/sfw

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fandangotales · 1 year

Text

Mine, never hers.

Summary: You wake up to your boyfriend crying, so you comfort him.

Warnings: NSFW Content, emotional trauma. Overall pretty tame and wholesome for a smut. Reader is GN.

Characters: Scaramouche <3

It had started out with soft mumbles… but as the seconds ticked by, those slight noises contorted into something more broken. Sobs… of pure agony as he twitched in his sleep. The moonlight shone down on his lithe body, as his lips opened slightly to let out some words.

“No… get away from me…” he mumbled, as crystal tears slid down his cheek. “I’m not… I’m not your puppet.”

The last word ended in a sob, as the sound of his cries increased in volume. Eventually you woke up, realizing he was likely having a nightmare… about her. You placed your hands on his shoulders, gently shaking him.

“Scara… wake up. It’s just a dream.” You said, softly caressing his face.

His eyes fluttered open, their blue-purple hue glazed over with tears. He quickly sat up, hugging onto you as if his life depended on it.

“Y/n…” he trailed off, unable to finish his sentence.

You accepted his embrace, gently running your fingers through his hair. “I’m here… if you’d want to talk about it.”

“It… was another dream about her.” He muttered, hugging you a little tighter at the mention of the woman. He continued speaking, as you felt his hot breaths across your chest.

“Kind of funny, huh? After all these years, everything I’ve been through… she still haunts me.” He gave a sarcastic laugh, looking up at you. “And here I was thinking I was stronger than that… but in the end, I guess she still owns a part of me.”

Your eyes widened. “No… don’t say that. What you went through was terrible, it’s more than understandable to be hurt from it.”

You cupped his face, staring into his watery eyes. He didn’t say anything, staring at you as if you were his last hope.

“And she doesn’t own you! Seriously, your experiences can only control you if you let them.” You gave him a comforting smile, as you held his face in your hands. Leaning closer to him, you whispered in his ear.

“Besides… you have me now. And last time I checked? We belong to each other~”

At your words, Scaramouche blushed a deep red. He struggled to form a proper response.

“Y-y/n…” he stuttered, looking at you in a mix of disbelief and hope. “You… really think so?”

You moved your body on top of him, straddling his lap. You then looked down at him with a reassuring smile.

“I do… if you’ll allow me, perhaps I can show you just how much you mean to me? How much I love you? How much I want you to be mine… and only mine?”

You said, smirking a little as his face lit up at your words.

“Yes… you may.” He softly said, looking away in embarrassment.

You then took his chin, softly kissing his lips, before moving to his cheeks.

“Now then… I don’t want to be seeing any more tears~” you whispered, kissing down his neck.

His body jerked a little, as your soft lips moved down to his sensitive neck, and then his collarbone.

You looked him straight in the eye, before sucking a red mark onto his pale skin, as you felt him shudder beneath you. His eyes remained on you as you repeated the process, painting his skin with a clear reminder… that he belonged to you.

“A-ah… y/n…” he breathed, seeming to enjoy your actions.

Your eyes crinkled as you grinned, moving your hands down to his shorts. “My… getting all worked up already?”

Scaramouche let out a choked moan, as your hands went underneath his shorts, teasing his cock. It was already leaking… almost as if it was begging for your attention.

“P-please…” he whispered, between breaths. “Please touch me…”

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, as your hand began jerking him off. “Anything you say, darling~”

As your hand moved, you continued making your marks all over his throat. The slight pain, combined with the way your hand moved against him was heavenly, as he let out soft noises.

“M-mhm~“ he whimpered, as his hips began to move in time with your hand. You kept going, swallowing more of his moans with a deep kiss.

You moved your hand a bit faster, as your fingers flicked against his perky nipples. He let out a gasp, as his eyes roll back.

“H-hah…y/n…” he panted, as you continued to play with his body.

You always thought he looked beautiful like this… thighs shaking, erratic breathing… so perfect, just for you. You then leaned down once more, passionately kissing him as your hand gripped tighter around him, moving up and down at a swift pace. Scaramouche breathed heavily into the kiss, desperately returning it, as your lips crashed together.

“Such a good boy for me… so pretty like this, and only for me~” you praised him, in between kisses.

He let out a loud moan at your words, as you felt a wetness coating your hands. You then slowed your pace, allowing him to fully savor the high. He stayed like that for a few moments, completely blissed out from both the pleasure, and the love he received from you.

“…thank you.” He said, the words barely audible.

You pet his hair, pressing one last kiss to his forehead, as his eyes fluttered shut. He was worn out from his nightmare earlier, and the pleasure you had given him. Although… the nightmare was the last thing on his mind. Instead, it was filled with you, your kindness, and your love for him. He let out a few deep breaths, fully relaxing into the mattress. After a bit of time, fell asleep.

As you left the room to go get a washcloth to clean him off… this time, you saw a soft smile upon his lips as he slept.

#sub genshin #genshin impact smut #genshin impact #gi scaramouche #scaramouche smut #sub scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin scara #gn reader

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