#Lesbian GN
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alexissara · 5 months ago
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The Marble Queen Review
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The Marble Queen is a an amazingly drawn book, Gabrielle Kari is one of the greatest artists out there and her brilliant craftsmanship truly captures a unique voice in comics. I am impressed her illustrative style was captured on so many pages of the books really showing the level of heart that went into this work. The amazing use of paneling and page layout allowed for very dynamic use of the medium of comics breaking conventions from each other while feeling like bold artist moves on the page.
The book is hampered some what by being a YA book, it feels like at times there are areas that maybe would have been better served with more details but it does really edge what most YAs feel their able to do in a first novel. With lots of death, some blood and some implied sex. The pacing was a bit fast, there were moments that felt like they could have lingered longer and taken more time and perhaps the beginning starts a little slow but the romance does feel satisfying.
I think there are feelings I'd like to see explored more, the ending appears to set up a potential follow up book but it's ending is satisfying enough to simply imply potential conflict that is not needed. Anna does do a great job capturing Amelia's anxiety and the ways it manifests, the ways she tries to treat it, and how it affects her life. It is a great deception of that mental health struggle. I do wish we could have seen more into Salira's perspective, the white woman who doesn't know about being gay being the POV makes sense in the like cynical ways but I would have liked to get more into the interiority of Salira who does fall a bit into the "more butch brown woman who dots after he innocent white GF trope." I think that would have been felt a little less if we saw the world a bit more from her eyes. That said the book does do a solid job of showing plenty of fem brown women so I think it be an oversimplification to say it's just an example of that. It's worth noting only in that i know several other BIPOC women who might hesitate at it but I think we're in the clear here.
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This book does feel like it in some ways compensates for being about gay women with good straight brothers who are very good boys. In general we get an idea that Salira'a kingdom is homonormative and see that in a page but from that point on basically everyone is implied to be straight in the kingdom. They leave some details vauge, some people could be bi, but this is all the reader chosing the details what we do see if M/F relationships, a set of women attracted to men, and one other woman who is confirmed to be gay but is also tied into a plot twist so I won't go into detail. That's not to day the queerness feels bad in the story it is good, it's the focus, it's great just that I felt there was maybe a little room for improvement within the bounds the story itself set's up. Unlike something like the lack of trans rep which it does not ever bother with so I wouldn't mention outside of like using it as an example for something I wouldn't take points off for. Regardless, my point is it would have been nice for like one more named character to have been queer.
I do really enjoy that both girls have some troubles in the new arranged relationship and both gave up something they love for it. I also enjoy that there is a twist for a lie that is told that while given a moment of weight is not turned into a giant drama moment and just given a tiny bit of time before the pair moved on. It felt more realistic for the two to understand why that lie was told.
Ultimately, this is a rather good story that I feel like was close to great but maybe fell behind just a little. That said I really liked it and I'd totally love prints of it and stuff. The main couple are cute and extra adorable towards the end. I like that there is a flare of action in the story and that the story had some big shifts in the status quo by the end of it. I love a lot of the sweet little moments. I love the ways it really pushed on anxiety as this thing in your life that can be consuming. It's a really great piece of art. If you enjoyed this review and want to see other reviews and support me making my own sapphic art you can support me on Patreon.
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knavcsblade · 24 days ago
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at last.
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+18!
cw: transfem dilf!arlecchino x fem milf!reader. overly descriptive. neither of you are exactly soft personality wise. arlecchino referred to as ‘husband’. reader referred to as ‘wife’, ‘woman’, and ‘mother’. reader a little insecure. praise + degradation (?). RAW lesbian sex. starts off tame, turns rough. overstimulation. creampie, breeding, etc.
wc: 3.2k
summary: arlecchino and you have been awfully busy lately, so a moment of passion was due, no?
a/n: wrote this in a few hours because i was bored and thinking of dilf arle again, so it probably sucks and i hate it!
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Everyone knew about the cold Knave—the one all people feared yet respected so greatly. That same one who, with just one look from her crimson eyes, could make an entire multitude grow silent in a matter of seconds.
Yes, that one was your husband.
In spite of her intimidating demeanor, she wasn’t the type to behave so aloof when in private, though you couldn’t expect cuddles, either. However, you didn’t seem to mind it one bit, which was to be expected—you were a busy woman, after all.
You would barely see each other due to work as of late, and it was gnawing at you internally. You missed her, whether you liked to admit it or not. You ached for your old, shared routine in quietude, which only made your case worse. She didn’t notice.
Sure, it had been years since you had gotten married, and you knew just how occupied you would both be at all times from the beginning, but it didn’t stop you from having basic human emotions.
The only times you would both meet would be to take care of your children, and to fall asleep in bed next to one another after a tiresome day. This wasn’t enough. No, no, it wasn’t. You craved more and more each passing night, to the point where you would even catch yourself begging unconsciously for her to wrap those cursed arms around you and relieve you both of the stress you were under.
This never happened, of course.
You would lay beside her in utter silence, yearning for the scorching touch of her firm hands all over your frame as you examined the manner in which her chest lifted and sank gently in her sleeping form. How torturous of her, to rest so carelessly beside you while you tossed and turned trying to get these juvenile thoughts off your head.
After what felt like an eternal few days, you had had enough. Arlecchino would be free for the weekend, and she already had plans of her own—that involved you, obviously—, so she wasn’t expecting you to completely drop your calm act the second you two were finally alone after tending to your children just like every other time.
It was late Friday night, the week having dragged on for far too long—the weariness was evident in the way your husband’s shoulders dropped slightly as she undid the buttons of her suit. Your shared room would have been dead silent if only it weren’t for the clicking of your heels against the hard floor bouncing off the walls.
“Peruere…, do you require my assistance?” Your voice was almost a purr, one so low it would have sent a shiver down the woman’s spine if only she hadn’t been slowly growing impatient due to her attire’s annoying design.
She was used to the way her real name rolled off your tongue with such ease, though it never escaped her when it did. You were trying to be sweet, and she caught on to that just from the sole sentence you uttered.
“No, dear,” she answered almost in an instant, though she gave up the second she realized that she did, in fact, need some help. It was only natural, due to the length of her nails and how eager she was to rid herself of the unnecessary fabric draping her body. “… yes.”
All you did was hum and draw closer, steady hands finding those buttons she was struggling with so you could work your magic. And no, Arlecchino wasn’t the type of person who would have filthy thoughts regularly—however, you had been plaguing her mind in different ways on a daily basis.
Maybe she missed the contrast of your plush skin against her calloused palms, or the way you would squirm beneath her whenever she figuratively pressed the right buttons to inflict the most pleasure upon you. She could navigate your body with effortless precision even in her own mind, but this wasn’t enough for a woman like her.
Now, having you before her as she looked down upon your serene expression, she realized just how much she had been missing out on. It had been almost months since you two had become one—since you two had fogged up the large mirror you had placed on one of the walls in your bedroom with the heat that radiated from your bodies.
Once you were done unbuttoning her suit, she took her time to remove the fabric from her form and set it aside. All she stood with before you now was the black, lightweight undershirt you used to rip off her when you grew bold and impatient a long time ago.
The one which you would definitely tear off that night.
You knew Arlecchino was a poised diplomat. There was no room for her to be impulsive and erratic whatsoever, though one could think otherwise by the way she gained purchase on your hips to pull you closer after staring for a second too long. You would have been confused if only you hadn’t been aching for this closeness for what felt like ages now.
“You look dazzling tonight, my dear. Is there a special occasion I have not been informed of?” She needn’t speak loudly now, not since you were pressed flush against her front as her fingertips buried themselves into the concealed flesh of your waist.
Could this be her lying about your looks through her teeth…? No, she wouldn’t do that. She wasn’t the type to bluff so shamelessly—not to you, at least.
“Not that I’m aware of, no,” your murmur filled her ears in an almost intoxicating way, and the feeling of your hands pressed against her chest made her tingle in response.
Composure be damned. The mere sight of your glowy eyes sent a jolt of unfiltered lust through her that she couldn’t ignore. Those thoughts of her job and duties that overflowed her brain quickly scattered to be replaced by nothing other than you the second her lips crashed against yours.
My, if only she could have you like this twenty-four hours a day, she would. The mother of her children fully in contact with her at all times… that was a blessing of its own.
Her large hands roamed over the curve of your ass, possessively groping and massaging the plump flesh below the tip of her fingers, all the while she forced you to take clumsy steps back towards the bed. She was desperate for a taste, or maybe more than just one. It had been too long since she had gotten you to mark her back with your polished nails—since she had felt your insides squeezing her deliciously.
Your legs spread to give her enough room between them as your back met the mattress, and all you did was cradle her face when she began to rid you of your pants in a way that could only be described as desperate.
It drew a giggle from you, the kiss breaking not only for you both to catch your breath, but also for you to make a comment she wouldn’t find all that amusing.
“Eager, are we?”
“Hush now. You want this as much as I do.” Despite the sharp tone of her voice, it oozed greed. However possible it was for it to drop an octave, it did.
Arlecchino’s experience was obvious as she had you stripped of all clothing beneath her in a matter of seconds, and you could already tell just how hungry she was from the way those crimson crosses committed your anatomy to memory. You couldn’t quite understand why she enjoyed your body so much due to how you viewed yourself, but oh, did she love grasping onto your thicker thighs every time she plunged into you.
You were too lost amidst the distracting ideas that traversed your mind to realize she was already naked on top of you, though she brought you back to Earth with a soft graze of her nails on your hip—truly heartwarming despite her being the one who fueled so many people’s nightmares.
“You are… hm. Such a sight for sore eyes.” Her words slipped out the back of her throat like an alluring melody, capturing your breath as she made sure to lay open-mouthed kisses along your neck. You knew it was hard for her to say things such as that, but you deserved it at the end of the day.
She always had the charm of a siren which rendered you to nothing but a submissive dummy for her to worship and adore silently. This husband of yours always bestowed you with the highest levels of pleasure you couldn’t even begin to comprehend, even after a while of unwanted celibacy.
Those lips that helped you see stars many a time made their way downward, not skipping a beat even once her hands groped you with ownership—one of them massaging one of your tits and the other on your inner thigh the second she managed to hook her dark arm around it. She would keep you in place to devour you until she got what she wanted.
“Darling, I… hm,” your sentence was cut short by the soft kiss she placed on your dripping cunt, and the fiery glow of her gaze was focused on the way your head tipped back at the sensation.
Arlecchino always found it sweet—just how sensitive you were to her ministrations. She could tell your lips were parted from her position and how the small bliss took over your senses even when she solely hovered over you. What a pretty thing you were.
“Eager, are we?”
You knew this was to mock you, to make you see just how hungry you were for her as much as she was for you, and even if she hadn’t placed her tongue between your slick folds, you wouldn’t have complained. You lacked your usual coldness when around her, and she adored it.
The manner in which she now explored your pussy was feral. It was a feeling that could only be described as dizzying, and your reaction was almost unconscious due to this. Whimpering and slowly melting into the bed was all you could do as she did what she knew best, which was to suck on your clit with a thirst that only you could satiate.
Maybe it was the way she knew how to pick up the pace of the flicking of her tongue against you, or the fact that it was her doing this to you, but you were totally out of it. At that moment, your focus solely lay on how her mouth rewarded you for all the distance you had borne until that point.
The minutes dragged on for longer than you could take, legs twitching around her head as she made sure to taste every last inch of your needy cunt which was now more than coated in her spit.
Your words mixed with a loud moan, one which grew even more strident as the palm of your hands rubbed against your sensitive nipples. “P-Peruere… please! Please,” and she just knew what you meant by the way you would plead.
A slight rise of the corners of her lips were her response—something you felt and gave you goosebumps from head to toe. How could you not notice such a thing? Her face was fully buried in your pussy, and she enjoyed every second of torturing you.
Eventually, she hummed and squeezed the soft skin of your thighs. A silent question. What is it that you want, sweetheart? Either you answered to the best of your abilities, or you wouldn’t get it.
“Please, please,” you sounded so pathetic and whiney it flipped a switch in the depths of her mind, “I can’t… I need you, darling. So, so bad…, please.”
She would give you what you wished for, but not before she had you cumming all over her tongue. You couldn’t make a fuss, though. She loved the way you would squirm, arch your back, and cry only from something as simple as having her devouring you so fiercely.
You indulged her in the end, your climax hitting you like a bucket of cold water as you did all she expected from you. She even had to hold you down from how messy you got, as usual, and also to not get squished by your thighs, not yet, at least.
“Good girl… truly.” Her tone was more than sultry after she pulled away from your clit with a wet pop, and even when away from you, she had to lick her lips to taste you again. You had always been her favorite meal, after all.
You panted and tried to recover from the fog that clouded your sight, and even with this you could tell Arlecchino was right above you from the way the mattress sunk at your sides due to her hands. It made her tingle—to have you so fucked out and vulnerable beneath her body. The ache between her legs only became worse at the sight, her erection jerking right against your sensitive folds.
“You still want it, don’t you?” she asked knowing damn well the answer was yes. You needed her like one required oxygen to stay alive. “You still want me to fill you to the brim.”
A sneaky hand found the space between your breasts to trail down in a torturous pace, a black nail pressed so harshly it would leave a mark the next day. She came to a halt on your mound so her thumb could rediscover its usual spot on your overwhelmed clit, so slippery it teased the future of her actions. Vocalization of your desires, that’s what she wanted.
“Yes! Yes, I do,” you were still twitchy, still aching for her in a manner she could never quite understand.
“Mm-hmm… alright, then.”
That’s all you heard from her before you felt the way she shifted over you and the tip of her cock aligned perfectly with your naturally stretched out hole. She wouldn’t use her fingers on you to prepare you—she hadn’t the time to trim her stiletto nails since this was all unpremeditated, and it would be unthoughtful of her to shove them inside you.
The moment she sunk into you, your reactive moan seemed to almost be of relief. You could feel her slowly pushing herself between your poor cunt walls so as to not harm you. My, just the sound of her barely audible groan could’ve made you finish a second time.
“Always so welcoming,” she mumbled through her breaths the instant you finally swallowed her full and coated her cock with your slick. You no longer felt empty, at last.
Of course, she tortured your previously abused clit with her thumb to get you used to her size easier. Considerate without fail, wasn’t she? She rubbed it in soft circles as she awaited for you to give her some leeway to move inside you, but she enjoyed the feeling of the way you wrapped around her.
You met her lascivious gaze after some time—just from the sight of your glossy eyes and nonverbal appeal she felt the sudden urge to pound your pussy until you couldn’t think of anything other than how good she was at fucking you. Making you cry from the pleasure, that was the only thing she could think about at that moment.
This woman reacted almost in the blink of an eye. Her hands made sure to move your legs enough for your comfort before one of them grabbed your face. You could feel the cold surface of her wedding band against your skin as she lost all mercy for you—she wasn’t the type to be kind either way, was she?
“Such a pretty doll you are,” she cooed as her fingers slightly dug into the flushed skin of your cheeks, “how pathetic do you turn just for me.”
That just forced a guttural moan out of you. Her words, mixed with the way her hips met yours with each forceful thrust… it was only making your eyes prickle with tears. You were so loud that every little sound that escaped your lips sounded like music to her ears.
The way your flesh and breasts recoiled because of her movements were like a work of art. Such lewd moans from your lips, the manner in which her flesh slapped yours, the smell of sex permeating the air. It was all a masterpiece crafted by her own hand, and she relished it fully.
The fashion in which she angled her dick to continuously rub against that spongy spot on your insides drove you mad. You had to put your hands on her chest to try and calm down her momentum. Not only were you still coming down from your first orgasm in such a long time, but she was also being so rough she might as well have been tearing you apart right there and then.
You could almost feel her all up in your guts. Her motions were becoming almost primitive against your poor cunt.
“P-please…”
She quickly interrupted your whiny attempt at speaking, her tone borderline scolding through groans and pants.
“You can take it all like the good wife you are.”
Oh, did she know what to say to make you clench around her cock and draw a beautiful noise from the pit of her throat. Arlecchino always enjoyed that pitiful moment where you physically reacted to her words. Such a good toy you were.
The moment arose where both you and her could feel both of your crescendos drawing closer after long minutes of wet sounds, and your husband just couldn’t pass the opportunity to make it even better for the both of you. She always knew how to fluster you even if it was nearly impossible to do it even more.
“In or out?” She asked in a somewhat steady voice, having drawn closer to you as a means to bury her face into the crook of your neck.
You had been sinking your nails in the pale skin of her back, leaving red trails at your wake while you muffled your cries thanks to her shoulder. This question, however, forced you to shut your eyes at the realization of what she meant.
“In… please, just… inside.” She could barely make out your words since you were oh so occupied enjoying the way her dick drilled into your now swollen pussy.
And, naturally, she did as you said.
Your orgasm struck you both at the same time, skins glistening with sweat now pressed flush against each other as she released fully inside of you and all you could see was white. All she could hear from her spot was your loud cry of ecstasy and the soft sound of small raindrops beginning to hit the window of your room.
She pulled away from you eventually, just to watch you through her haze, and hummed at your delicious and new fucked out expression. She knew you were now leaking out your mixed fluids and tainting the sheets, however, she couldn’t find herself caring. She wanted more.
“Turn around.”
“Wh- huh?” You thought you were hearing wrong. You were still amidst the peak of your pleasure—you weren’t understanding her, surely.
“I’m not done with you. Turn around. Now.”
If you hadn’t been broken in half yet, you would be by the end of the long, long night ahead of you.
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huntfeld · 2 months ago
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A Jealous Heart in The Neon Glow
Pairing: Jinx x Reader
Summary: In the neon-lit chaos of Zaun, Jinx grapples with her growing jealousy as the reader's bond with Ekko stirs possessive feelings she can no longer suppress.
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The dim glow of Zaun's neon lights filtered into the small hideout, casting the room in a flickering array of pinks and blues. You sat cross-legged on the couch, a makeshift workbench cluttered with mechanical scraps sprawled out before you. Jinx was perched on the armrest, twirling a wrench in her fingers like a baton. Her signature manic grin was nowhere to be found, replaced instead by a peculiar tension that made the air feel heavier than usual.
"So," Jinx began, her voice lilting like a razor sliding across silk. "You and Ekko seem real chummy these days."
You froze mid-tweak on the contraption in your lap, the question catching you off guard. "Uh, yeah. I guess. We've been working together on that glider project for a while now."
Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, the wrench stopping mid-spin. "Oh, glider project. Sounds riveting. Is he, like, your new bestie now or something?"
You set the tool down and glanced at her. The playful edge to her voice was thinly veiled, barely masking something rawer, sharper. You knew Jinx well enough to recognize it: jealousy. It clung to her words like oil to water, a dangerous undercurrent you couldn't ignore.
"Come on, Jinx," you said carefully. "You know it's not like that."
She leaned closer, her face now inches from yours. Her cerulean hair framed her features, the usual mischief in her eyes replaced with something more vulnerable—though she was trying hard to hide it behind a cocky smirk.
"Not like what, exactly?" she asked, her voice dropping to a low murmur. "'Cause from where I’m sitting, looks like you’re getting all buddy-buddy with him, leaving little ol’ me out in the cold."
Before you could respond, a knock at the door interrupted the moment. You glanced over, recognizing Ekko’s voice calling out from the other side. You stood, feeling Jinx’s eyes burning holes into your back as you opened the door.
"Hey," Ekko greeted with a grin, holding a toolbox. "Thought I’d swing by and drop these off for the project."
"Thanks," you said, stepping aside to let him in. The tension in the room shifted palpably as Jinx remained on the armrest, now glaring daggers at Ekko. She didn’t bother hiding her displeasure, the wrench in her hand tapping rhythmically against the leather.
"Hey, Jinx," Ekko said with an easy smile. "What’s up?"
"Oh, y'know," she replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Just watching my best friend here get all cozy with someone else. Super fun."
Ekko raised an eyebrow, his gaze darting between the two of you. "Uh, okay? Didn’t mean to intrude."
"You’re not," you said quickly, shooting Jinx a warning look. "Ignore her. She’s just being… Jinx."
Jinx scoffed, crossing her arms. "Yeah, ignore me. That’s what everyone does anyway, right?"
You sighed, turning back to Ekko. "So, about that glider prototype—"
Before you could finish your sentence, Jinx was suddenly in front of you. Her hands grabbed your collar, yanking you down just enough for her lips to crash against yours. The kiss was anything but delicate—it was desperate, raw, and filled with an intensity that made your knees weak. The world seemed to blur around you, the only thing grounding you being the warmth of her mouth and the tight grip she had on your shirt.
When she finally pulled back, her eyes locked with yours, burning with a mix of defiance and vulnerability. "There. Now you know," she said breathlessly. "You’re mine. Got it?"
You blinked, your heart pounding as you tried to process what had just happened. Unable to help yourself, you smirked and replied, "Yes, ma’am."
Ekko let out an awkward cough from behind you, clearly unsure of where to look.
"Uh, I… should probably go," he mumbled, quickly retreating to the door. "Catch you later."
The door closed, leaving you and Jinx alone in the electrified silence. You stared at her, still feeling the lingering heat of her kiss.
"Jinx," you started, your voice shaky, "what was that?"
She crossed her arms, her bravado faltering as she glanced away. "What do you think it was? I… I can’t stand watching you with him. It’s like… it’s like my chest is gonna explode or something. I hate it."
Your heart ached at the raw honesty in her words. You stepped closer, gently placing a hand on her arm. "Jinx, you don’t have to feel like that. There’s no one else. Just you."
Her eyes snapped back to yours, wide and searching. "You mean that?"
You nodded, your thumb brushing over her wrist. "Yeah. I care about you. A lot. More than anyone."
For a moment, she looked like she might cry, but then her signature grin slowly crept back onto her face. "Well, duh," she said, though her voice cracked slightly. "I mean, who wouldn’t fall for this?"
You laughed softly, pulling her into a hug. She stiffened at first, then melted into your embrace, her arms wrapping tightly around your waist. The faint smell of gunpowder and oil clung to her, mixing with something uniquely hers.
"You’re not getting rid of me now, y’know," she mumbled into your shoulder. "I’ll blow up anyone who tries to take you away."
You pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes, your hand brushing a strand of blue hair from her face. "I wouldn’t want it any other way."
The two of you stayed like that for a while, the neon glow painting your world in shades of pink and blue. For once, the chaos of Zaun felt far away, and all that mattered was the girl in your arms and the unspoken promise of what lay ahead.
———
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wesstars · 9 months ago
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crush
cairo sweet x fem!reader (no pronouns used)
summary: when cairo goes home, what comes to mind are thoughts of you. wc: 2.3k tags: explicit, minors DNI!! all characters 18+. university au. masturbation, smoking, non-linear narrative. reader is cairo’s teaching assistant, reader described as masc presenting. a/n: let me know what y’all think :) for the vibes
masterlist
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“Is Professor Miller not coming?” Winnie had just dropped into her unassigned assigned seat next to Cairo, two minutes before Greco-Roman Literary Theory started. The flipping of pages punctuated the chatter of other students waiting, a comfortable sound.
“He said he’d be gone today,” Cairo replied absently. “There’s a ‘guest lecturer,’ our teaching assistant.”
“Oh, right. Who’s that?”
Cairo shrugged. “Who knows.” 
As if on cue, the door swung open. Cairo didn’t even look up—Miller mentioned that he kept a handful of research assistants that would be there to help with the advanced reading. But honestly, Cairo wasn’t sure what they could tell her that she didn’t already know. A melodic hum fell through the air for just a moment, a chorus. 
“Good morning.” At your lilting voice, rough with the edge of 10am, Cairo started. She watched you set your messenger bag on the desk. Your white shirt pulled over your shoulders; there was a glint at your collar, a necklace peeking through. A thin watch adorned your wrist. Winnie, along with some of the class, echoed your greeting, and Cairo blinked.
Late spring afternoon draped across the furniture in Cairo’s room, the quickly waning light giving easy way to a blue hour. Dropping her bag at the door, she tore off her shirt and skirt with the confidence of one standing before a crowd. Running a hand up from her sternum to her neck, she stretched languidly, sinking down onto her bed. After so many uneventful days—when she applied to Yale, she didn’t think that there would be any uneventful days—she finally had a story to turn over in her mind. 
You. You were a mystery. Even as you had started the class with an introduction, telling Cairo you’d graduated from a middle-of-nowhere college in California and sought a writing career in Vermont before delving into research, she longed to lay out the details and pull them out from under the rug. Where did you learn to teach? Did you like to drive, or be driven? Mountains, or the sea? Where did you grow up? Was there coffee or tea in your cupboard? Cairo’s stomach burned to know. Her dark eyes burned the ceiling with smoke signals, searching for you even though you were god knows where in that seaside state.
Arching her back, Cairo let her hand travel down, palm flat against her stomach, to trace the seam of her upper thigh. As the class had progressed, your keenly observant nature did not elude Cairo. Maybe listening was something that your pedagogy instilled in you, but the way you held each student’s question in the cant of your head, an answer in your crinkling eyes, listening seemed to be in your nature. It was meticulous, the way you picked apart the class text, weaving in references and tying it all in. In that two hour lecture, Cairo learned that you watched the same way you listened. 
Balmy as it was, the humidity made her dark waves cling to her skin, and she shivered as she brushed them back, thinking of a different pair of slim hands. Your scrutiny of each student had an intention that she couldn’t quite place; a determination that thrilled her. Cairo imagined that you’d observe her the same way, that she would be the one you were most fond of. It was only natural that her own attention would draw yours onto her. Holding the weight of your envisioned gaze made Cairo’s core twist, a pleased little flush that she prayed you could see. Your affected impartiality didn’t bother Cairo—in fact, it pulled her into your shadow. In her bed, she rolled onto her stomach then her knees, shaking her hair out. 
Her hands were steady as she reached for her bedside table, thumb rolling on the wheel of her zippo as she held the cigarette to her lips. Cairo took a drag, blowing out neat smoke rings as she settled back on her heels. The skin of her own fingers was cool against her lips, and when she took the smoke away, she studied the pattern of her lipstick on the white paper as she had so many times before.
She’d watched, unabashedly and unafraid of being caught, as you drummed your fingers on the chalk tray. Would your fingertip be soft or work hardened if it pressed down her tongue? Would your skin carry the stain of her red lip as deeply, as obediently, as the malleable wrapping paper?
“Alright, class,” you cleared your throat, turning slowly around the room to make eye contact with each student. “As you know, Jonathan’s away on a conference today. I’ll start with a bit of roll, just so I can learn your names. Not many of you come to my office hours, I know.” You smiled easily. It was so guileless, Cairo mused, nearly childlike. You had the class go around the rooms with names and majors, a circuit that Cairo gave no attention to other than your lilting rhythm of hums, the tapping of your foot on the floor, the way you flicked the corner of the role sheet with your thumb. Your gaze was soon on hers, waiting expectantly. She looked right back with a blink.
“Cairo Sweet. English major.”
“Cairo.” Her name rolled off your innocent little grin, making her cock her head. “Wonderful.” Fascinating. Would you whisper midnight black desires in her ear, so deep and dark they might be murmured into the ink of your own empty room?
You continued, circling back to the front and easily transitioning to the lesson plan. You had an awfully effortless way of grasping the class’ attention, holding gently and never forcing. It wasn’t like Professor Miller, who always seemed to hasten through the lecture so he could return to his research. She could tell you liked the woods of the text, to fall down into the depths of each word, feeling its weight in you and letting it rock. Just like Cairo. 
She sighed into the warm air prickling up her skin, the curl of your voice around her name making her nipples harden in her bralette, even in retrospect. Exhaling around her cigarette, Cairo brought her hands up to palm her breasts, feeling the drag of her rubied nubs on her palms. Was it the high of the nicotine, the blur of smoke ridden air that made her float straight up into the lofty space you’d created in her mind? Though the feel of her own fingers scraping the lace against her skin was familiar, she found herself keen to think of your soft or callused hands. She was wet already, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten wet so fast.
The weight she imagined of your touch on her flushed skin was completely, deliciously foreign. Unbidden but intimately welcome, Cairo wished that your caress would find the map of her chest as familiar as a classic, something you had searched a million times over yet always managed to find something new. Shamelessly, Cairo trailed her fingers down her stomach, nails catching on every rib as she arched her back in the spilled moonlight. The mystery in the crossing of your long legs as you’d leaned back on the desk climbed up her belly, curling in the thump, thump, thump, of her heart. The uneven roll of your sleeves clung to the corners of her eyes, eidetic and oh, so, tempting. She had watched you so ardently—did you like to watch? Would you watch? 
The space between her thighs was achingly empty, craving the set of your narrow hips. She was comfortable there, and she remembered the taut stretch of wool as you dropped into your chair and set one ankle over your knee. There was something endearing about the way your trousers had pulled up to reveal slouchy black socks, and darker her mind went as the material pulling creases around your lap made her shudder and—she reached behind to pull one of her fluffy pillows under her, smoke billowing into the air. 
Cairo gave her hips an experimental roll, imagining it was the soft fabric of your slacks against her aching cunt, and grinned around her cigarette. Unlike the pillow, you would be ever so solid under her, grabbing for her thighs like a dog yearns to please. Were you more likely to bruise her skin, yanking her into you without care for blood—or would you guide her gently, make a home in her innocence and hold her more dearly than life ever could? Either way, your desire for Cairo would be so apparent that you couldn’t help yourself.
The dip of your tongue in her navel, the little smirk you’d undoubtedly wear as you went down further—would you go for her throbbing clit first, or would your lips press so warm—she didn’t know. She didn’t have to, content with all those different versions of you unfurling before her. In her bedroom, each time she moved her hips, it became easier to imagine you guiding her actions, the bump of your nose on her folds, damned if not addicting.
Cairo grinned as she fell onto her forearms, hips pushing into the soft pillow without abandon. The slide of her panties soaked with slick against her sensitive clit felt like the delicate press of your splayed hand on her desk as you’d passed, eyes occupied by the text you were holding. It had only been a split second, but it was enough for her to memorize every crease, every vein. Cairo let out a whine, a demanding little sound, as her movements grew erratic. Looking up into the heaven where you must be, she imagined that you’d murmur to her, “I’m here, I’m here, how could I be anywhere else but here?” as you traced the dip in her back. Her arousal took her down every sullied path she’d ever dreamed of, but her mind stuck on one gesture that made her mouth go dry. 
She remembered the way your shirt got just a bit untucked when you stretched during the class break. You’d instinctively tucked it back in, quick as you surveyed the class. Cairo thought that you’d dress yourself back up the same way after you bent her over the desk after class, pushing her skirt up and shoving your fingers into her, painting bruises onto her hip bones with how tight you held her.
The two of you would share a mutual understanding that she wanted this, wanted it bad enough for you to take it whenever you saw fit. Cairo decided that today, this time, you’d be as rough as you pleased, a cup of pens clattering to the ground as you pushed her down, forearm across her shoulder blades. Your necklace would be cold on her warm skin, would it be cold on her tongue? You’d put two, three fingers inside, humming in that absentminded way you did. She thought you’d nuzzle into her ear, all lips and sharp teeth, asking if she’d sprayed your favorite hair mist of hers because she hoped you’d notice—she did—and take her, break her, whatever you wanted. 
You’d send her plummeting down towards a deeper hell (or was it higher, up to your majestic heaven?), already knowing everything that her body needed. Cairo imagined herself coming so helplessly around the stretch of your fingers, so high strung from nights of trying to mimic the press of your touch on her clit, unable to reach the same heights you sent her to. As she held back tears, eyes on the ceiling in reverence, feeling herself drip to the floor, you’d sigh as your mind wandered to other things already, carelessly running a hand down her back. 
Cairo gasped, dropping her nearly finished cigarette in favor of gripping the bed sheets. The white fabric wrinkled around her fingers, reminiscent of your shirt creasing as you’d rolled your sleeves up. This was something new you could show her, just how fast she could come and just how wet it made her. It was a marvel, feeling the fabric cling to her cunt, almost as good as how you’d feel. Resting her forehead in the crook of her elbow, she murmured your name over and over again, a little susurrus of a litany, so similar to your preoccupied hum. Panting, Cairo giggled in her bliss, soft and bright as Californian oranges clinging to rich leaves. You were dark enough to be tucked into the wrinkles in the soft pillow, dark enough for Cairo to love, as a journal loves a secret.
Sated, Cairo grabbed her phone and typed your name in. The results spilled out, and she scrolled, looking for all of the details in the background of your social media posts, curiously drunk on the year’s gap in your CV. Cairo noticed the perfect little circle where the cigarette had burned when she dropped it, and she brushed away the remnants. The gesture smeared the ash on the sheets.
Walking into your office with barely a knock, Cairo took in the familiar room of an academic, but with your unfamiliar knick knacks around the place. A lighter, a leather wallet, glasses and wired headphones. You didn’t look surprised as you glanced up from your laptop. Instead, you smiled. 
“Cairo, isn’t it?” 
A flush of pleasure shot straight into her—you remembered. She nodded. Your shelves were covered in books and stacks of reviews, the morning’s leftover cup of coffee sitting on one of the ledges. Did you smoke before, or after your coffee? The terrible, terrible want to replace the taste of smoke on your tongue with the taste of her gave Cairo just the confidence she needed. 
“What can I do for you?”
Cairo leaned over your desk, watching the way your eyes dropped to her burgundy lipstick. “Would you be able to help me on the Aristophanes reading?” She pushed her copy of The Clouds towards you. “I can’t seem to grasp it.” Your eyes met hers. “Of course.”
--
a/n cont'd: can you read my mind, i’ve been watching you… there’s just something about you, baby… ♪ / hope you enjoyed @woewriting :)
please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!
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vifilms · 3 months ago
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NSFW EIGHTEEN+
all i seem to think about lately is religious!abby who grew up in a church all her life, always been told she needs to be with a man, marry one, build a life with one — owen in particular is who she’s been told to have. the arranged marriage she was basically grown into. 
in her early twenties, yet has she had the opportunity to be with another. a promise to her father, with the cross-necklace laying on her chest, she’s dedicated to being celibate until marriage. a pact practically bound by the blood of virgin mary, she believes in the sacred bond she has through faith with her god and savior, jesus christ. funnily enough, it’s the words she utters as you corner her in the bathroom. well…not so much as cornered, not with those curious blue eyes begging for something, anything to unburden her from the life abby feels trapped in. even if she knows it goes against everything she’s been taught, she doesn’t stop you from snaking your hand up her sunshine sunday dress, bright blue as it bring out her eyes, never leaving your actions. at first, your fingers only running along her folds, teasing the era until she’s dripping for you. there isn’t a doubt in your mind she’s never felt anything like this. 
the gold cross pendant a pawn in her mouth as if the only purpose it’s ever served is to be a prop until the cadence revealed itself. the truth of religion can be found on the tips of your fingers, the delicate touches on abby’s clit. abby lets her mind wander into the altar, the communion she takes, you’ll be the sin she begs for forgiveness next. seeping into her body like the blood pumping through her veins, the lone reason for her existence was for you. no god could compare to this, the trembling of her thighs, the moans she whispered in hopes not even her savior from above could hear her. 
is god really the way, the truth, and the light if she sees heaven through your eyes? 
“this is what you wanted isn’t it? someone to save you from the chains you call religion? let me set you free.” without a second more wasted, your tongue laps at her pussy, enjoying the way she can barely hold herself up. letting you claim something now has had the privilege of venturing. she would be shunned, ostracized from society if anyone knew the truth. 
truthfully, it’s an easy task. the angelic blonde so deprived of another’s touch she slithers in the hands of a snake, tasting the forbidden fruit for the first time. it’s quick, overwhelming when she comes undone, spilling her sweet nectar into your lips, hips moving uncontrollably as she fucks your face. knuckles bearing the color of winter snow, clutching onto her dress that rests at her toned abdomen as you swallow every last drop. 
stepping away from her, you grab a washcloth, running it under warm water, abby unable to move. impending doom washes over her guilty, and now sinful, heart. this never should have happened, the voice in her head repeats, the path of self righteousness was supposed to be hers but now she finds herself acquainted with the sinner and the snake, straying from the life of a discipline and discipleship. 
“hold your pretty dress for me. can’t get it wet, can we?” abby lifts her dress, clutching it as the warm wash rag gently cleans her, she feels your fingers dip inside her slightly, thorough as you clean up her cum. 
“i should get back out there.” abby shyly whispers. “my dad will be looking for me…and owen.” 
“right.” you toss the used rag on the countertop, “just one more thing.” 
with a passion laced in your tongue, you steal her breath away, lips locking either her pinky, pouting ones. abby can only assume the salty but even sweeter taste is her. whimpering as you squeeze her small tits through the pale blue dress, abby can’t help but grind against your legs between her legs, aching for something more. this time, you deny her of what she so desperately needs. 
“come and find me when you’re ready for a real fuck, princess.”
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strawberrykidneystone · 2 months ago
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sevika with an s/o with no spatical awareness
she has no idea how you survived this long
when you first walked side by side together and you kept running into her while not walking in a straight line, she finally said fuck it and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into her side
she laughs at you when you bump into doorways and walls but it's all out of love... supposedly
has seen you reach for things and completely miss by a mile... yeah she starts picking up what you're reaching for and making sure you make direct contact with it before she lets it go (you have not had a grip sometimes and the two of you just stare at each other before laughing when it just drops onto the ground)
when she's in the car with you driving her for the first time, she has to look away from you while she's holding back laughter while you repark for the 3rd time (you swore you were in the lines!!!)
had a long talk with you about how hard it is for you to find things with directions, but you don't want to feel helpless and have her find things for you all the time, so you worked out a specific system that works for the two of you so you can actually find things in the house!!!
freaks the fuck out when she loses you in public for the first time, calling out your name like a child calling for a lost puppy and once you find each other again, she pulls you into the tightest hug you've ever had in your life
yeah... you now have a meeting place in case you ever get separated
a/n: this was completely self indulgent sorry yall
taglist: @archangeldyke-all @sevikasfan @maneskinwh0re @fandoms-will-be-the-death-of-me @lez-zuha @comfortripley @sunflowerwinds
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angelic--kitty · 3 months ago
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𝖈𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖎𝖓 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖜𝖊𝖇
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𝖋𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖉𝖗𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖗!𝖆𝖗𝖑𝖊𝖈𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖔
warnings: smut (mdni), wlw content, fem!reader x transfem!drider arlecchino, dark content, stalking, breeding, oviposition, fingering, you're her human pet ♡, collars, arachnophobia, size kink, tummy bulge, nipple play, arle uses her webs to tie you up
a/n: kinksgiving yippee lmao
𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖋𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖐𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗
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she watches you curiously, tied up so prettily in her webs while you squirm around in a futile fashion. your eyes are so wide, desperate, frightened as you struggle, oblivious to the creature watching you.
she creeps forward through the shadows, easily maneuvering through her own webs as she steps just hard enough for you to feel the vibrations and freeze up.
she'd been watching you for quite some time in that little cottage you lived in at the edge of her woods. she planned this perfectly, setting out bait of berries and herbs she knew would draw you in, only to trap you in her sticky web.
it was almost adorable how easily you fell for it. clearly you needed her to keep you safe. little more than a sweet pet, too curious for your own good.
as she revealed herself to you, your eyes almost brightened, and she wondered if you knew she was watching you. perhaps you actually had been hoping she would snatch you up. from how your breath turned shaky, your struggling ceased, she realized you were intrigued.
how... sweet. yet so foolish.
she helped you out of the silky strands, instead cradling your smaller frame to her body, carrying you back to her den. you were so pliant, she already knew you'd make a wonderful mate, and, perhaps, an excellent mother.
you had such a pretty body, such a sweet little look in your eyes when you'd kneel for her, dressed in nothing more than a collar she made for you.
clothes? you didn't need those anymore, right? she kept you warm, ensuring you stuck close to her side, enjoying her body heat while she enjoyed your soft form pressed against her.
and, oh, you were just as soft on the inside as you were on the outside. even better were the sounds you produced when her fingers slid into your sweet little cunt. she learned your anatomy rather quickly, easing the prettiest sounds from your lips as she crooked her fingers into your sweet spot.
"there, there," she hummed, pulling yet another orgasm from you as you shook against her body, feeling her limbs wrapping around you.
"c-can't-" you whine for her, despite your hips still humping against her hand. "too much-"
"hush, human." she merely mumbles, holding you tighter, rubbing her palm into your clit as you squirm. "i must have you ready for me."
your head was fuzzy, but you had enough sense to listen. "ready for...what?"
she pushed her body up against you, letting you feel the hardness pressed up against your back.
oh.
the squeak she received had her twitching, fingers pumping in and out faster. "it's my mating season, pet. we've talked about this previously, yes?"
you dumbly nod, remembering how she'd given you a long lecture on taking and laying her eggs. though, at the time, you zoned out, merely picturing her inside of you.
"good." she praises you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as she slowly pulls her fingers out, savoring the slick you leaked onto them. she picks you up easily, moving you to face her, your pussy hovering over her cock.
it was pretty, but thick, making you whimper when the tip brushed your hole. you squeezed around nothing and she sighs, rubbing herself across your slick entrance. "you must relax, human."
"you're... too big." you admit softly, your voice both nervous and needy. and it has its intended effect, softening the seldom sweet woman as she leans in, pressing her chin atop your head.
"you can take it, i can assure you of that." she pushes the tip into you, hearing you softly moan, grabbing onto her biceps the further she slides in.
she's thick, stretching you out but filling you with a pleasant warmth that makes you feel even fuzzier as you pant, head falling forward and onto her shoulder. "ah-" you squeak, back arched as she pauses, letting you grow accustomed to half her length. "full..."
she nearly purrs, breasts brushing your own as she feels your perked nipples. "there is still more to take." she tells you, but she pauses at your soft noise of confusion. "i...suppose that can wait if you're not ready. there is always next time, hm?"
you nod eagerly, hips shifting on the half of her fitted inside you, already feeling a little bulge in your lower tummy. one of her limbs slides to tease your clit and press on the bulge, earning a cute little yelp from you.
she eases you up and down her cock, little more than a toy for her as she eases just a bit more of her length into you with every thrust. she grunts, feeling you squeezing around her, your slick dripping down her cock and giving the dark flesh the prettiest creamy ring.
just looking at it has her twitching in you, needing to cum inside of you to watch it drip out all the same.
she begins to give you the same lecture on her eggs, though from the way your eyes have gone glassy and the way you begin to beg for her cum, she figures it's lost on you.
her thumb slides to your clit, rubbing little circles until you cum around her like the good pet you are, giving her the perfect opportunity to fuck you deeper, pushing her eggs into you as your face scrunched up, hands gripping onto her while your nails leave indents into her skin.
she groans, clearly pent up from how thick her cum is inside of you, already dripping out of you as your back arches up, nipples at the perfect height for her tongue to flick out and tease them until they're swollen.
she keeps you on her cock, plugging you up and admiring the image of her eggs in your stomach. her hand brushes over them, picturing the perfect family you'll both have so soon... and how she can't wait to do it over and over again just to see you completely fucked out.
her beautiful little pet.
she kisses your forehead, climbing back into her web, keeping you snuggled against her body, plugged up nicely while you fall asleep, pleased and comfortable together.
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soreconom · 2 months ago
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Hihi!! I just read your Sevika HCs and I absolutely love them!! I wanted to know if you could (please) write HCs for Sevika and Vi after an argument with their partner? :) Whether it’s an argument the reader started or they started can be completely up to you! Or you could even do both scenarios if you prefer! 💕
Thank you and I hope you have a nice day/evening 💖
🖤Sevika and Vi after an Argument🖤
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🤎Sevika🤎
I don’t think arguments would be common in a relationship with Sevika.
When she locks into a serious relationship, she means serious. She covers all the important bases for a healthy relationship; communication, loyalty, respect, trust, and so much more.
Covering these bases, especially communication, helps to avoid frequent arguments.
It won’t completely cut out the occasional argument though.
When you two do argue, it’s almost always about bigger things. For example, her working so much and not taking much time for herself, or maybe her drinking and smoking.
Post-argument time usually has as “how can we avoid this in the future” moment where you guys have a heart to heart about whatever started the argument.
If you start an argument:
Be prepared to apologize first. And only apologize if you’re really sorry.
You should always finish what you start, after all.
Your apology may be met with an affectionate an eye roll and a huff.
She never stays mad at you for long.
Once you apologize she usually makes space for you wherever she’s sitting and wraps her arm around just to let you know it’s really okay.
If you’re just apologizing because you feel like you need to, don’t. She can see right through you if you’re bullshitting her.
If you’re stubborn like her, sometimes apologizing can genuinely be difficult. She gets that. Which is why her patience with you is a blessing.
Again, when you’re ready to apologize , she’s affectionate and accepts it.
If she starts an argument:
This woman is stubborn. For her to apologize, it just doesn’t feel right.
She’s only ever been truly sorry a few times in her life. In the Undercity, living a life like hers, she never had time to be sorry.
Being sorry gets you hurt. It gets you killed.
But…
It’s obviously different when it’s you. You aren’t a big bad wolf waiting around the corner. You’re her partner, her ride-or-die.
In the heat of the moment, what she said felt right. It felt like something you needed to hear.
The thought of you feeling hurt by something she said just eats her alive.
She comes to you first.
It isn’t anything crazy, usually just a simple, gruff “I’m sorry.”
She’s awkward and stiff about it, but completely genuine.
Asks what she can do to make it up to you, if anything.
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❤️Vi❤️
Violet runs hot. She isn’t a loose cannon but someday’s it can be hard trying to keep all of her emotions under wraps.
This has definitely lead to arguments over petty things like dishes in the sink or eating the last of her favorite snack.
It’s also lead to arguments about very serious things. Her pit fighting, drinking, and her occasional impulsivity.
Arguments always hit her hard, even the petty ones. No matter how old she gets, arguments always make her feel like a little kid, just waiting for the ball to drop. The ball being losing you.
That feeling of dread, like this argument could be the last, if that makes sense.
Physical touch is usually present in the make up process after an argument. It helps ground her.
The good news is, the two of you always make up very quickly.
If you start an argument:
If the argument is a petty spat about dishes or snacks, she still apologizes first, albeit rather begrudgingly.
This links back to her feeling like this argument could be the last. What if she never hears “You promised you’d take out the trash this week” ever again?
You, however, shut that down. “It’s my fault, I should be the one apologizing.” You tell her.
These arguments are extremely easy to come back from because you two are always on the same level. Two halves to make a whole, equals
There isn’t a point in staying hung up on petty nonsense for long.
If you start a big argument, you apologize first.
She distances herself and you have to go to her.
You’ll usually find her someplace where she shouldn’t be, like a bar. Or, you might find her someplace safe, like with Loris or another friend she feels comfortable around.
Not only should you apologize, but it would also be a good chance to thoroughly explain why you’re upset or might think something is a bad idea.
Once you do that, she’ll open her arms up to you and usually things can be resolved somewhat easily after that.
If she starts an argument:
Again, she apologizes first.
If she starts an argument, big or small, the dread of possibly losing you over this hits her like bricks.
For smaller arguments, she approaches you casually. If you let her, she’ll wrap her arms around you. An apology hug, if you will.
Says, “I’m sorry, baby,” in the softest voice she can muster.
These smaller arguments are always easier to come back from just because she’s so sweet. How can you ever stay upset when she’s such a sweetie?
Big arguments are something else though.
After she’s said whatever it is that she’s said, the weight of it all is suffocating.
If she said something really stupid and hurtful in the heat of the moment, she might need some space for a bit. Things like that take her back to that day.
But she’ll come to you when she’s ready.
May or may not have a little gift for you for extra measure. Usually it’s something simple like your favorite candy bar.
She tells you she’s sorry and explains why she got so worked up. Usually this leads to a steady and warm embrace and you let her know it’s okay.
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hello!!! thank you for the request ♥️ please let me know if you enjoyed it or not. i had so much fun writing these. i kind of got carried away with vi’s headcanons 🙈. . i was purposefully vague about what started the argument so you can sort of imagine your own scenario for why the argument started!🎠
ask box is open for multiple fandoms and nearly every arcane character! check my pinned for rules, fandoms, and characters. i write headcanons, reactions, drabbles, and more!
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holskeepsitreal · 3 months ago
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im sick and tired of seeing dom vi that bitch is the most submissive bottom out there😭😭😭 give me more sub vi fics PLEASE🙏🙏
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hopelesslygaysstuff · 3 months ago
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October 28 - Forced Intox
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pairing: Mob boss!WandaNat x sub!Reader
summary: You drink, and keep drinking. All courtesy of your girlfriends, of course. They have some fun with you, and you just bask in the feeling of being utterly drunk while they command your body however they please.
content warnings: reader has a penis, alcohol, very dubious consent, cunnilingus
word count: 1.4k+
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comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡
A/N: Any scene or kink with dubious consent should be discussed before actually participating in the kink or scene.
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People. All you could see, feel, or touch were people. They were packed in around you as soon as you entered the door, the low lighting of the club causing you to squint your eyes as you tried to focus. 
Fuck, you shouldn’t have used the main entrance.
You can barely see, the scent of alcohol and weed hitting you as music thrums strongly in the air. The floor is slightly sticky, and you grimace as you make your way towards the second floor, where you were meeting your girlfriends.
They took good care of you, truly. But the only thing you hated about their job was the ridiculously lavish and crowded parties they threw. You understood why they threw them, of course, but you still didn’t like them. 
“Right this way,” a man says, and you turn to see one of the security team next to you. You feel your body relax as relief floods you, your girlfriends only employed the best and most trusted individuals they knew. The training process alone only let the most qualified candidates through, so you allowed the man to gently grab your elbow as a team of security surrounded you. 
Slowly, you made your way towards the staircase, avoiding the stumbling drunk people around you. God, you needed a shot, it was stifling to be in this environment sober. 
As you ascend the stairs, you search for the signature hair color of your girlfriends. Wanda liked her hair more auburn, while Natasha preferred a darker red, and you smiled when you saw them next to each other, engaged in a conversation. 
“Thank you,” you murmured, the team of security dispersing as the man gently led you over to where your girlfriends were waiting. 
Two pairs of green eyes meet yours, and you smile as they turn their full attention to you. God, you’d been looking forward to seeing them all day. The only thing you wanted was their hands around you and a beer to sip on. 
“Darling,” Wanda greets you, pulling you in by the belt and kissing you firmly. You feel yourself harden slightly at the action, and you know that she can feel it as she presses her body against you.
“Nice of you to finally join us,” Natasha says, and you feel Wanda break the kiss to chuckle against your neck, her hands hot around your waist. You smile at her, your hand reaching past Wanda to bring her in for a slight hug. 
“Missed you.” The words are whispered, but your girlfriends hear them. 
Natasha smirks, pulling away slightly to wave her hand at someone you can’t see. Wanda remains wrapped around you, her hands grabbing your waist tightly as she kisses your neck. You hold her, your body relaxing as you watch a bartender hand Natasha a tray. 
Smiling, you take in the three shots and your favorite beer on the tray. 
“Vodka,” Natasha says, gently touching Wanda’s shoulder and pulling her away from you.
“Are we taking these together?” 
Wanda laughs at your question, holding one of the shots as Natasha holds the other two. You smile as you take the offered shot, confusion growing when Wanda simply looks at you, tilting her head as she glances at the shot in your hand.
“No,” Natasha says, moving closer to wrap her hand around the back of your neck. It’s possessive, and you feel yourself grow even harder, your hands moving to cover your bulge slightly. “These are all for you, pet.”
Your eyes widen at the name, and you feel Wanda’s hand on yours. She moves the shot towards your lips, leaning in to whisper in your ear. 
“Be good for us, darling. Take the shot, we want you fuzzy tonight.”
At her command, you take the shot. Before you can set the glass down, Natasha is pressing the next one in your hand, her eyes dark as she watches you gulp it down. 
“Oh, fuck,” you mutter, wiping your lips. Vodka burns, your throat feeling warm as Wanda presses the final shot into your hand. 
“Come on, pet,” Natasha says, smirking at you as she opens your beer for you. “One more shot, you know you want it.”
Well, you can’t argue with that logic. You feel yourself twitching in your pants at her commanding tone, and down the shot while ignoring the way Wanda glances down at your crotch. 
“Good job,” Wanda murmurs, her lips returning to your neck. 
You accept the beer that Natasha gives you, wrapping your fingers around the cold bottle as you feel your face heat up from the alcohol. The room is already growing hazier, and you feel yourself relax as a grin spreads on your face. 
Without protest, you allow yourself to be pulled into the VIP section of the club, the atmosphere quieter but no less intense than the general club area. 
At some point, you find yourself on a couch. Natasha and Wanda are next to you, her hands wandering as you groan and feel yourself grow harder. They don’t seem to mind, Wanda’s leg thrown over yours as her thigh presses lightly against your bulge. 
It’s pleasant, the room blurry as your eyes begin to glaze over. Your head is fuzzy, and your ears ring slightly as another bottle is placed in your hands. How many drinks have you had now?
You can’t remember, but Wanda’s fingers are tipping the bottle against your lips and you swallow, blushing at the praises that drop from Natasha’s lips as you do. There are hands all over you, and you can feel yourself straining in your boxers, your need obvious to everyone in the room. 
“Don’t be embarrassed, pet,” Natasha says, her voice playful as you turn to look at her with bleary eyes. Your face is flushed, your lips parted slightly as she presses another shot into your hands. “This is what you wanted, remember?”
Of course you wanted this. That’s right, Natasha would never lie to you. 
“Keep drinking,” Wanda mumbles, her hand guiding yours as you down the shot, grimacing at the taste and sipping your beer to mask the burn. You can feel yourself slipping further, the edges of your vision fading as you bask in the attention and closeness of your two favorite people. 
At some point, you confess your love to them both. You barely remember it, your words quiet and your eyes shining as Wanda giggles while Natasha smiles at you and places another beer in your hand. Your tongue doesn’t even process the taste anymore, but you somehow manage to keep drinking. 
By the end of the night, you’ve been pulled into a dark room. You think it’s an office of some sort, most likely Wanda’s. It’s hard to tell though, as you’re focused on how fuzzy and pliant you feel, your body pressed against the couch cushions while Natasha and Wanda shower you with affection. Wanda is on top of you, kissing you softly as you moan into her mouth, her lips tasting like cherries and vodka. Natasha is near your waist, her mouth eagerly sucking on your hard length, pleasure thrumming through your veins. 
You barely register your orgasm, the pleasure blurring and mixing with the weightless feeling in your limbs, your mind fuzzy as you buck your hips and bask in the feeling of Wanda’s mouth moving against yours. You remember moaning, your eyes closing slightly as the room begins to sway and spin. 
Fuck. Wanda is on top of you, fucking herself on your hard length. You can smell her arousal as she does, Natasha’s fingers resting in your mouth as you suck on them. You moan at the feeling of Natasha’s lips against your neck, your hips pinned to the couch by Wanda’s thighs as she grabs your waist for support and grinds with your cock inside her. 
It’s perfect, and you let the pleasure consume you. 
The next thing you remember is Natasha pouring another shot into your mouth, your eyes blurry as you try and focus on something. Somebody is saying something, but you can’t quite hear it, the ringing in your ears too loud. 
Pleasure. 
Your throat burns, your cock hard and tired at the same time. Someone’s arousal is smeared on your lips, and you smile stupidly. A shower? You’re nude, being held up by strong arms as a heavily accented voice speaks to you. Not that you can understand it, but you nod along anyway. 
It’s perfect, and exactly what you need. It’s everything you asked for.
You wake up the next morning, your head pounding as you snuggle more into the two warm bodies wrapped around you. Your voice is weak as you thank them, a wave of tiredness washing over you as Wanda’s fingers card through your hair. Natasha praises you, her voice low and her hands strong as they rub your back. 
You wouldn’t trade this for anything.
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nosyrobin · 2 months ago
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||STARFIRE X FEM! TWIN READER OF ROBIN/DICK GRAYSON||
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imagine female!reader who is also a sidekick for Batman, being a team with the teen titans. Being second in command by her twin brother dick Grayson Aka Robin. As reader goes on with her life in the teen titans tower and missions. She fails to realize that a certain Tamaranean female is certainly crushing on her. Starfire is amazed at how brave the female Robin is, always facing danger with a smile and always making sure the alien girl is okay.
Starfire always wraps her arm with reader’s arm. Dick teases reader that Starfire is basically reader’s girlfriend. Reader denies this out loud, making Starfire frown. Reader tries to talk to Starfire after this, Starfire only walks away with sadness. Battles with the team don’t go well, as Starfire can’t help but look at reader and immediately frown thinking about how their relationship with each other is going.
Robin forces his twin sister to go talk with the alien girl. Reader sighs and goes to Starfire, Starfire had her head in her pillow, frowning. That was before the knowing voice of the girl who basically rejected her called her name. Starfire tries to ignore the voice, but she misses her girl. She opens her door and there is the female Robin holding flowers. “I’m sorry. I…I hope you would forgive m—” the female Robin didn’t get a chance to apologize as Starfire kisses the female passionately. The female Robin’s eyes are blown out wide. Starfire then breaks the kiss. “I am thankful for the flowers and your admiration.” She says softly, taking the flowers from the shocked Robin. She then closed her door at the room, she couldn’t help but smile and smell the flowers
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alexissara · 10 months ago
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Quick Review: Grand Slam Romance Book 1
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Grand Slam Romance is a really fun time, I am not at all a sports girly and even less so a fan of baseball or softball but this story was a total blast to read with lots of lesbians having sex, being messy as shit and tons of great goofs. Astra Maxima is one of my favorite characters in any medium that I read in 2024 being a really fun and messy character who has a lot of solid funny scenes. The comic does a good job of keeping a light tone while also keeping you invested in these characters and their feelings for each other. At first it's hard to read Astra but getting to know her feelings near the end really feels like a nice pay off, everyone is fun and it's just a simple good time.
It does feel like the story didn't totally wrap everything up intentionally for a second book to exist but I want to read that second book, I think there MIckey and Astra end up is great and I adored seeing all the different kinds of sapphics represented from our He/hims to our non binary lesbians to femmy lesbian fuck boys we really had it all here. The character designs are top of the line and the pair of Ollie and Emma really work amazingly together. It's the kind of comic project you can tell the creators love each other and that love shows up in the world, a beautiful dance of collaboration that any artist who has got to work with someone they love will see the fruits of.
I bought this book on a whim and I for sure do not regret picking up the hard cover. It's a really great time and one I think other people should check out too. I look forward to the future book and seeing how the follow up to this works. The romance in book one was good, compelling, and a great bit of one of my favorite dynamics which is lesbian childhood best friends but I would love to see it go even further now that they are reunited.
Also like full bias Astra is like exactly how I make my OCs down to the look, like she looks basically like an ideal me so I am totally biased towards this fuckgirl. Basically she can do anything awful and I'd forgive her on sight, she's the moment, there is no blaming her.
If you enjoy these reviews you can read more, I write lots of them and if you really enjoy them I can always use support over on Patreon and Ko-fi.
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knavcsblade · 27 days ago
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unprofessional.
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+18!
cw: professor/dilf!arlecchino x student!reader. NOT highschool; both arlecchino and reader are adults. dom arle, sub r. overly descriptive. a lot of tension. age gap. power play (?). slight degradation. cunnilingus. 
wc: 3.4k
summary: professor arlecchino tutoring student reader who had fallen behind in class… and lesbian sex.
a/n: i couldn’t stop thinking about dilf arle as a professor… i would apologize, but i know this is a millionaire idea. plus, i haven’t written in ages and my fingers are now moving all over the keys like it’s nothing. i’m free!
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Lessons have always been annoying—as far as you can recall—so much so that you would usually find yourself pouring your focus into the most insignificant things you could think of.
You would bring novels into class to read as the professor explained a new subject; you’d look out the window and process all the things you had to do on that very specific Tuesday afternoon; you would even take naps in between the prolonged sentences of that one teacher you simply couldn’t stand, for a reason that managed to escape you every time.
That was until the day the man was rumored to have been fired and replaced by another professional with more experience on the field—someone who most likely wouldn’t bore all the students to death.
Great, you thought, another male educator with an inflated ego who would roll his eyes at every inquiry from his pupils before proceeding to answer sarcastically just to make them feel witless. You were oh so excited for that.
The moment you looked up from your walnut desk, you already knew something was off. Everyone went silent as soon as the door opened—a common occurrence, though it felt different this time, especially since the clicking of heels echoed through the large room.
“Good morning, class,” those were the first three words that came from the new professor. The gravelly depth of her voice carried an air of authority that quickly forced everyone to put all their attention on the manner in which she approached her desk.
You were all in almost a chokehold in an instant, that was as clear as day. However, you seemed to be the most interested one out of the bunch by the way your eyes lingered on her form—on the way there was a lack of sway in her hips that you were unused to.
Most of the female scholars were nothing like her, and not just physically, you could already tell. She carried herself in a way that had you almost hypnotized, and you already knew you would be paying attention this time around.
There was a soft thud that bounced off the walls when she set her messenger briefcase on the dark wood of her new desk, eyes glimmering like coals in the darkness never leaving the class sitting before her. “Before we begin, introductions are indispensable,” her gaze flickered towards you for a few seconds before she spoke again.
That was… odd. You definitely looked like a deer in headlights to her now.
“I’m Arlecchino, and I’m afraid I will be your new professor from this moment onward… and no, I shall not disclose the details of your previous professor’s departure, before you ask.”
The auditorium had fallen silent the second she walked in, but due to the velvety, spellbinding tone of her voice, it seemed to grow even quieter. Of course, she had every student’s undivided attention at this point, but you found yourself staring at her for longer than would be considered appropriate.
The way she wore her suit captured your notice almost instantly. This was a common attire worn by every professor at the institute you attended, though hers was utterly captivating. The way the fabric clung onto her body, adding the way she carried herself… it was difficult for you to focus on her words at all, no matter how hard you tried.
And oh, her voice had you in a trance. The way the low vibrations of it echoed through the room sent shivers down your spine in a way you had never felt before. This person couldn’t be real…
You were so distracted by her you didn’t even realize the lesson was already over until you noticed the people around you beginning to stand up—Arlecchino taking a seat at her desk just to go through some papers she had taken out of her briefcase.
Much to your dismay, you were snapped out of your thoughts by this and, of course, her speaking. “Make sure to continue… hitting the books, as they say. In spite of your former professor’s leave-taking, the exam dates remain the same.”
The moment you got up and most of your peers had exited the room, you simply had to look at her for the last time. Truly, where did this woman come from? She was otherworldly, in your very honest opinion, and you were one hundred percent upset about having to make your way outside at that moment.
But oh, did you enjoy the lectures now.
You enjoyed her… them so much, the quality of your exam was abysmal. For her, even having to read the few words you wrote down felt like a punch in the gut, and she almost winced while going over it. However, who could blame you? Your last professor was truly someone who spoke and lulled you to sleep, and she was too distracting for you to even begin to comprehend the words that flowed out of her mouth.
The moment you picked up your test from her desk, you didn’t even look at it. You caught a glimpse of red inked scribbles all over the paper, clearly Arlecchino’s corrections, but you couldn’t bring yourself to even read what she had to say. You already knew you had messed up—what was the point?
You always told yourself you would simply ‘study more next time’; however, this was futile. All the subjects were related, so you practically were doomed to fail. You hadn’t the time to go over so many different things in just a few months.
The lesson began once you sat down, and one more time, your chin rested idly on the palm of your hand as you watched her. This was the sole reason you had underperformed on the exam, or so she thought.
She could almost vividly see the way her speech went in one of your ears and out the other, and in spite of her calm demeanor, it was slowly beginning to vex her. Were you truly this careless?
Of course, she kept an eye on you while she explained the intricacies of the new subject at hand, slowly pacing before the entirety of the class as she did her best to direct your attention to her words—not the way her steps allowed you to notice just how toned her frame was beneath the fabric of her suit.
The second everyone got up to leave the auditorium after long hours, you heard a soft “you”—one that oozed authority despite its calm tone. You already knew whose lips that simple word came out of. Naturally, you looked disoriented as you approached Arlecchino with your bag now hanging from your shoulder and heart beating so loud in your chest it might as well have been about to burst.
“Yes?”
Her gaze eventually turned to you, blackened hands gaining purchase on her own hips as she looked down at you. Finally, you could see her nails up close, one of the things you continued to ogle while sitting a few feet away from her, and you were more than fascinated by them now.
She cleared her throat to catch your focus once again after noticing it deviating from her face, and you would have been startled if only you hadn’t found her so attractive. “I have been informed that you are… one of the students who didn’t exactly pay attention to these classes previously. I wished to let you know you may come to me after lessons so I can clear any doubts you might have.”
Her eyes bored into yours as she spoke, and if you couldn’t hear your own heartbeat in your very ears, you would have assumed it had stopped completely. Educators were allowed to be mesmerizing, sure, but you had never found yourself being so… distracted by one.
“I’m positive you have quite a few of them, since I was told you spent most of your time dozing off or staring out the window at the previous professor’s lectures. Not to mention the way you seemed more than distracted in our last ones, unlike the other students…, and your failed exam.”
You immediately felt called out by her—who wouldn’t? Wasn’t this deeply embarrassing? This woman assumed you were, well, an uninterested fool, judging by her almost condescending tone. She already knew you had always been busy hearing her voice, but never truly listening to her. You felt your cheeks begin to burn from the shame.
“Yes, I…,” you cut yourself off to clear your throat, fist covering your mouth as you thought for a few seconds. Would you confirm her obvious assumptions about you, or reject her offer? Well, the answer was obvious. “I suppose it would do me good.”
“It would do your grades good,” her head tilted ever so slightly to the side as she spoke, piercing eyes solely focused on yours at all times. They were inhumanly beautiful yet hauntingly distant; despite this obvious nature, you couldn’t look away. “I don’t particularly enjoy the idea of my students falling behind.”
That said, a vocal sigh left her parted lips and filled the room in an instant. 
“We will meet at the library, yes? Perhaps I can… enlighten you for once.”
And so she did. She would spend hours on end trying to get certain things through your pretty little head, often having to literally snap you out of your thoughts. You spent long periods watching the way she held her garnet fountain pen instead of listening to her, and this was becoming tiresome.
You could practically hear her jaw clenching as you quietly giggled and lied through your teeth. “Don’t worry, I understand” and “yes, that makes sense” were things you would say time and again, even if Arlecchino hadn’t been speaking for minutes.
In a way, she found you… amusing, albeit irritating. The situation wasn’t one she was used to, even after years of being an important scholar of Teyvat.
You thought you weren’t being so blatant, though she caught on the reason for your absentmindedness pretty quickly. She would notice even the smallest of details about your actions, like the way your gaze would drop to her lips as she spoke, or how you continued to bite the inside of your cheek—it was almost as if you were somewhere in between reality and some different plane of existence.
She didn’t blame you, however. You were very clearly infatuated with her, and oh, did she find it sweet.
The only issue with these private lessons was that neither of you had considered the fact that the library closed once a month for the staff to conduct a book recount. The first Friday this took place, Arlecchino found herself having to simply invite you to her home so you could both resume your routine.
This wasn’t exactly inappropriate, at least not to her. It was fairly common for her colleagues to take the students who needed the most support to their places so they could perform their duties as tutors to them—you were utterly flustered, however.
You had ‘sneakily’ gotten information out of her about her personal life, like how she had adopted three children a few years back, or how she had a beautiful garden with rainbow roses she enjoyed taking care of before making her way to the institute. None of that could ever compare to setting foot into her house, fully missing those children she had mentioned before.
You now sat at the desk in her study, cross-legged with your tightly clasped hands resting on your lap and Arlecchino sitting before you. You desperately wished to look around—to take in the way she had decorated the room and maybe catch onto small details of hers she wouldn’t confess. However, you kept your gaze on her the entire time. Furniture could wait, could it not?
“I apologize for the… chaos,” her voice rumbled as she focused on putting away the scattered papers all over the large desk into a folder.
All you did was wave your hand dismissively in response, and if you weren’t looking so intently, you would have missed the way the corners of her lips lifted with utmost subtlety.
Your books were covering the mahogany wood in minutes, Arlecchino slightly leaned in as the crimson crosses in her eyes focused on the words plastered on the pages. She could definitely feel you studying her form more than you would ever study the sentences sitting right in front of you. She had had enough now.
Her voice pulled you out of your head in an instant, doe-eyed as you hummed. It took you a few seconds to register her question, the usual “did you understand?”
“Oh, uh… yes, absolutely.”
“Do it, then,” she said, leaning back with crossed arms and brows furrowed slightly enough to make you press your lips together instinctively.
It was clear you were puzzled at her words. You hadn’t heard what she had uttered before, and she just knew it.
“I’m… sorry, what?”
To this, all she did was exhale deeply through her nose and begin to organize all the books and papers you had placed on her desk. Her patient demeanor was beginning to falter, and all due to you.
“Get on the desk. Don’t make me repeat myself again.” Her answer was simple, and the way she said it left no room for hesitation whatsoever.
She put all your belongings aside to rest her palms on the edge of the furniture, getting up with a swift movement that made her chair roll back and give her enough room to wait for you to do what she had commanded. It was clear there was a plan in her mind, one about what she would do to you the second you obeyed, and it was nerve-racking.
Oh, well. Who were you to not do as she said? Especially when her gaze lingered on yours expectantly.
You slowly made your way towards her, hands trembling as you used them to prop yourself up and now find yourself sitting atop her desk in pure silence. Your legs were pressed together, naturally, since you had decided to wear a skirt due to the hot weather that had taken place merely a couple of weeks earlier. You didn’t wish to expose yourself before her, or did you?
“You know, dear,” she started as she drew closer, the nickname as well as the manner in which her hand found its way towards your thigh making your heart race in what could only be anticipation, “you aren’t good at listening, or understanding what I regularly explain to you… or keeping your focus on something other than me.”
At that moment, everything around you seemed to vanish. She was now so close you could feel the heat of her body against yours and her breath tickling your face. Somehow, before you could even react at all, she stood between your spread legs as her blackened hand snaked its way under the fabric of your skirt.
Could your poor heart even take all of this?
“I’m sure you aren’t even paying attention to what I’m saying right now, are you?”
“Sorry, you… you’re too close. I can’t…,” you didn’t even finish your sentence, but not due to her. It was all because your mind could only concentrate on the way her nails uniformly dug into the plush skin of your thigh.
“You can’t… what? Think? Of course you can’t,” she muttered in response, knowing she needn’t speak louder considering the closeness between you two.
It didn’t take her long to shatter this small distance, however. She leaned in impossibly closer, giving you all the time in the world to pull away if you wished to do so—if she had been stupid enough to misunderstand the whole situation. Yet, as the seconds passed, you didn’t. Obviously. 
Her other hand managed to gain purchase on your waist to pull you in and meet her lips halfway, wrapping you in a kiss as unhurried and torturous as it was passionate and hungry. And oh, the way you finally let out the breath you weren’t aware of holding through your nose the instant you tasted her only made her fully press herself against you.
You let her in eventually, a whimper betraying you as she fervently explored your mouth and her fingers wrapped around the hem of your underwear to slide it down your legs. She couldn’t find herself caring about anything other than giving you what you had wanted in such a desperate manner since you first saw her, even more so ever since you had managed to grow on her so easily.
She thought you were simply… almost adorable. The way you drooled every time your eyes landed on her was something she found more than entertaining, and she wished to see how many reactions she could pull out of you with uncomplicated deeds.
Arlecchino only pulled away to kneel before you, and you couldn’t help but notice the fine thread of saliva that connected your lips before it snapped once her face waited right in front of your unclothed, drenched cunt. She watched you in silence, crimson eyes now turning darker at the sight of your desperate expression.
You just wanted her to ravish you, didn’t you?
All she had to do was lift your legs up to rest on her shoulders just so her tongue could finally roll between your folds and soak in your fluids fully. This took longer than you were hoping for, but once it did, your head lolled back at the feeling.
This was followed by you dragging a moan out of the depths of your throat, an action that made her hold tightly onto your thighs since she could already tell you would be the type to squirm and make a mess only from getting eaten out.
The pretty noises coming from you the moment she found that sweet bundle of nerves only made her react by digging her nails into the warm skin of your thighs and shoving her face even further into you. Her nose was pressed against your mound, and the sensation of the small hairs pricking on it made the feeling even more enjoyable for her.
She seemed to eat your pussy out like a woman starved—one not afraid to pour the entirety of her silent desire onto you and watch you relish it in its entirety. She could even feel the mixture of your wetness and her saliva beginning to drip down her chin and pour onto her pants to stain them in the future, all the while she lapped against your sensitive clit.
Long minutes full of moans, whimpers, and your hand tangling in her hair passed when you felt that well-known heat forming in your lower stomach. You couldn’t ignore it, and neither could she. Arlecchino could simply tell how close you were to an orgasm just from the way your legs squeezed her head every once in a while.
“Fuck… fuck, Arlecchino, please,” a strained plea that was interrupted by a mewl left your mouth which hung open for her to hear you.
Between lewd slurps and wet noises, her eyes found yours for what probably was less than a second. This managed to get you to clench around nothing as a loud moan filled the air.
“How vulgar,” came the only muffled response from her, though she lacked the sharpness of her usual tone. She was absolutely pussy-drunk at this point, only focused on bringing you to ecstasy with her tongue and claws carving crescent moons into your thighs.
It didn’t take you long to find your release, twitching and holding onto absolutely anything on that desk to keep yourself from fully resting on it. Even at the peak of your orgasm she didn’t let go of you; she was entranced by making sure she licked you clean of all your juices no matter what. It became overwhelming at one point—the way she made sure to swallow your climax solely made you wish this would have happened sooner.
Once she was done enjoying your taste, she slowly got up to wipe the remains of your loud crescendo with the back of her hand, red crosses finding your pupils though she knew you were more than out of your five senses.
“I do hope that, after this, you will pay more attention to our future lessons, dear,” her voice was somewhat deeper, and it forced you to nod through your exhaustion.
You would definitely focus on her words from now on.
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huntfeld · 2 months ago
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Home for the Holidays
Pairing: Vi x Reader
Summary: Vi and her family spend their first Christmas with the reader’s, finding warmth, laughter, and a sense of belonging in each other’s company.
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———
The house buzzed with holiday energy. Twinkling lights adorned the tree, the fireplace cast a golden glow, and the smell of cinnamon and pine filled the air. Laughter and the sound of cookie decorating echoed from the kitchen while Jinx darted around the living room, a whirlwind of energy.
“This place is so shiny,” Jinx said, her wide, Shimmer-pink eyes darting to every ornament on the tree. “You’ve got, like, fifty tiny explosions hanging here. I love it!”
Isha, sitting cross-legged by the window with a steaming mug of cocoa, let out a soft hum of approval. She gave a small nod, her lips quirking into a faint smile as she traced the rim of her mug with a finger.
“They’re not explosions, Jinx,” Vi said with a smirk, leaning casually against the back of the couch. “They’re just lights.” She tilted her head toward Isha. “Right?”
Isha rolled her eyes playfully and gave Vi a thumbs-up, the corner of her mouth twitching in quiet amusement.
Jinx wasn’t paying attention anymore. She was too busy stealing a candy cane from the counter. “Bet I could turn this into a rocket launcher,” she mused, twirling it between her fingers.
“Please don’t,” you said, laughing as you caught her eye. “My mom just fixed the kitchen wall last week.”
“Fine, fine,” Jinx relented, plopping onto the couch and sprawling across it dramatically. “But only because it’s Christmas.”
Vi crossed the room to stand beside you, slipping her hand into yours. She leaned down, her voice soft enough that only you could hear. “Your family’s great. They’re treating us like we’ve been here forever.”
You smiled, lacing your fingers through hers. “That’s because you belong here.”
Her grip tightened ever so slightly, her thumb brushing over yours. “I’ve never really felt like I belonged anywhere before.”
“Well, now you do,” you said softly, leaning your head on her shoulder.
For a moment, you both stayed like that, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s presence. Vi shifted slightly, turning to look down at you with a playful grin.
“You know,” she said, “there’s one thing missing from this whole ‘belonging’ thing.”
“And what’s that?” you asked with a smirk, knowing full well what she meant.
Without another word, Vi cupped your cheek and leaned down to kiss you—soft at first, then deeper, her lips warm and steady against yours.
“Oh, gross!” Jinx’s voice cut through the moment like a firecracker. “Get a room, you two!”
Vi pulled back just enough to glare at her sister, her cheeks flushed pink. “You could’ve just… looked away, Jinx.”
“Uh, no way!” Jinx retorted, throwing a blanket over her head like a makeshift cloak. “You two were practically oozing mushy love goo all over the couch!” She peeked out from under the blanket with a devilish grin. “And Vi, you’re blushing. That’s weird. Stop that.”
“I’m not blushing!” Vi shot back, her voice raising an octave.
“You totally are!” Jinx sang, tossing a pillow in Vi’s direction. “Look at her! Little Miss Tough Girl caught red-handed!”
You couldn’t help but laugh, and Vi groaned dramatically, burying her face against your shoulder. “I swear, she was easier to deal with when she was trying to blow things up.”
“You love me!” Jinx called, her voice muffled from beneath her blanket.
“Unfortunately!” Vi shouted back, but her lips quirked into a small smile as she turned her attention back to you. “Where were we?”
“Right about here,” you said, tugging her in for another kiss.
Your mom peeked in from the kitchen, her hands dusted with flour. “Vi! Jinx! Isha! Come grab cookies before the kids get to them!”
Jinx sprang up immediately, her pink eyes glowing faintly as she snatched a cookie with exaggerated speed. “I like her,” she said, pointing at your mom with a cookie in hand.
Your mom laughed, ruffling Jinx’s hair affectionately. “I like you too, sweetie.”
Isha followed with a curious tilt of her head. She took a cookie and held it up with a questioning look as if asking, Is this homemade?
Your mom nodded enthusiastically, and Isha’s expression brightened. She gave a little approving hum before taking a bite, her eyes crinkling at the corners in delight.
Vi leaned closer to you as the others mingled. “You sure we’re not too much for your family?”
“Are you kidding?” you whispered back, smiling as you watched your dad teach Isha how to play a board game, while Jinx entertained your cousins with wild stories. “You all fit perfectly.”
Later, as the house settled into a calmer rhythm, Vi pulled you aside into a quieter corner. The glow of the Christmas tree painted soft highlights on her face as she wrapped her arms around you.
“You really mean it? About us belonging here?” she asked, her voice low and hesitant.
You reached up to cup her cheek, your thumb tracing the faint scar along her cheekbone. “Of course I mean it, Vi. My family loves you. And I…” You paused, your voice catching slightly before continuing. “I love you.”
Her breath hitched, and for a moment, she just stared at you, as if trying to process the words. Then, with a soft smile, she leaned in, pressing her forehead to yours. “I love you too,” she whispered. “More than I can even explain.”
The two of you stayed like that, the world fading away until it was just you, her, and the soft twinkle of lights.
As the night wound down and snow began to fall outside, the house grew quieter. Jinx was curled up on the couch under a blanket, her pink eyes half-lidded as the energy of the day finally caught up with her. Isha sat nearby, flipping through a book she’d found on your family’s shelf, occasionally nodding in approval at something she read.
Vi sat with you in front of the fire, her arm wrapped around your shoulders as you both watched the embers dance. She tilted her head to rest against yours, her fingers lazily tracing circles on your arm.
“You know,” she murmured, her voice a low rumble, “this might be the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”
“Just wait,” you teased lightly. “You haven’t even opened your present yet.”
She chuckled, the sound vibrating through you. “You’ve already given me the best gift, babe.” She kissed the top of your head, her lips lingering as if to seal the moment. “You’ve given me a home.”
For the first time in years, Vi—and her unconventional family—felt like they had truly found their place.
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sarcasm-and-stiles · 3 months ago
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Emily, sweating: Y/N, there’s something I need to ask you-
Y/N: Finally! You’re proposing!
Emily: How’d you know?
Y/N: Emily, you’ve dropped the ring five times during dinner.
Y/N: I even picked it up once.
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0o-junebug-o0 · 6 months ago
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Soft Early Mornings
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summary: Emily takes care you when you wake up.
genre: fluff and smut
cw: 18+ mdni! kinda softdom!emily, kinda sub!reader, dirty talking, praise, fingering (r receiving), reader has a vagina but nothing else is specified (the only word used to describe reader's genitalia is clit), reader is written as non-male because I can't imagine emily as anything other than a lesbian, cumming in pants (I guess it counts), no use of y/n, morning sex, crying during sex, soft/emotional sex
wordcount: 1.1k
You wake up to the warmth of the newly risen sun and Emily’s hand under your shirt drawing gentle circles on your stomach. You groan softly and she presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Hey, baby,” she whispers. Her voice is husky and quiet. She must have woken up not long before you did.
“Hi,” you whisper in response, pressing your back further against her chest.
She chuckles slightly and flattens her hand on your stomach to pull you closer until your body is completely flush against hers. She slips her thigh between your knees, parting your legs slightly, before once again dragging her fingertips softly over your skin.
You sigh with contentment and turn your head to look back at her as much as you can. Emily props herself up slightly, her hair falling over her shoulder and neck, and presses a brief and gentle kiss to your lips. You smile as she presses a kiss to your nose before tapping the tip of your nose with her own and settling back down into the bed. 
You can feel her shift slightly behind you as she knocks off the bit of the blankets that managed to stay covering you both throughout the night despite your squirming. Being this close to each other provides all the warmth you both need.
“I love you,” you mutter.
Emily presses another kiss to your shoulder. “I love you too, baby.”
You hum happily and she chuckles in response. Her hand slips further up your shirt, tracing swirls up to your sternum and back down with two of her fingers. You let your eyes slip shut as you focus on the feeling of her hand, her love and care for you apparent with every soft design she draws.
Emily flattens her hand on your stomach again, just resting it there for a moment before shifting it so the tips of her pinkie and ring fingers slip under the waistband of your shorts. Surprised, you shift your hips slightly, pressing your body harder against her.
She raises up and presses a kiss behind your ear. “Is this okay?” she whispers.
A shaky breath leaves your lips and you nod eagerly. 
Emily chuckles into your ear. “Words, sweet thing.”
“Yes,” you gasp.
She kisses you again and you can feel her smile against your skin before she settles back down. Her hand dips further beneath your shorts and you gasp as one of her fingers brushes over your clit.
“Such a pretty little thing,” she mutters. Two of her fingers settle over your clit and start rubbing gentle circles. The feeling makes you moan softly as little sparks of pleasure shoot through your body. The sound makes her chuckle.
Emily doesn’t increase her pace at all, even though you know she can feel how wet you are, moving her fingers just fast enough with just enough pressure to drive you crazy without giving you more. She peppers your back with gentle kisses as you squirm against her and you can feel her smiling at every little gasp and moan that escapes your lips.
She slides her hand further down and you whine at the loss of stimulation to your clit. The sound is quickly cut off by a groan as she sinks two fingers into you at once. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispers. You let out a little broken moan as she curls her fingers inside of you. The angle is perfect, allowing her fingers to hit that spot inside you while the heel of her palm presses against your clit.
“E-Emily,” you gasp weakly.
“Shh, it’s okay, baby,” she soothes. “I’m right here.”
You whimper desperately as she slowly starts to thrust her fingers in and out of you, hitting that spot and nudging your clit every time. She’s so gentle, making the pleasure build inside you slowly, burying deep in your gut and creeping up your spine. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible and you can feel tears pooling in your eyes. A soft and happy sob works its way free from your chest and Emily stills her hand but doesn’t remove it. She props herself up, leaning over you and tilting your head so she can press a long and gentle kiss to your lips. “You okay, sweet thing?” she asks softly. You nod and open your eyes to meet hers. You let your eyes slip closed again as she presses her lips back against yours and resumes the movement of her hand. Her fingers hit that spot again, making you gasp into the kiss. She pulls back and kisses where the tears have gathered at the corners of your closed eyes.
“You’re doing so good, baby. I’m right here,” she whispers. “I’ve got you.” 
Heat climbs up your body and you whine desperately as you feel yourself getting close.
“That’s it, beautiful, so good for me.”
Her voice and words are so full of love and care and they drive you crazy, making you whimper and squirm.
“Em–“ you moan.
“It’s okay, baby,” Emily whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “Cum for me.”
As if on cue, you cum around her fingers. Pleasure washes over you and your body shudders. You moan and clench around her as she works you through it, whispering praises into your ear. When your orgasm subsides, Emily gently removes her fingers and you practically melt into the bed. It wasn’t a violent or overly powerful orgasm, but the slow build and gentle release of pleasure exhausted you. 
Emily slips her leg out from between your knees and you roll onto your back. You open your eyes and blink up at her with a dopey smile, uncaring of the tears still on your face. Emily wipes her fingers clean on her shirt and props herself up on her elbow to look down at you. Her hair falls over her shoulders and brushes against your neck and chin, making you giggle slightly.
You reach up and tuck her hair behind her ear, both to stop it from tickling you and so you can get a better view of her beautiful face. “Hi,” you say softly, lowering your hand to rest on your chest.
“Hey, sweet thing,” she responds. She presses kisses to each of the tears on your cheeks. “Did so good for me.”
You feel your cheeks warm. “Do you wa–”
Emily shakes her head. “No,” she says softly. “This was just about you.”
She kisses you softly and you raise your hand to cup the back of her head. When she pulls away for air, Emily rests her forehead against yours, pressing the tips of your noses together. She slowly opens her eyes to stare into yours.
“I love you,” she whispers.
“I love you too.”
_____
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