#bright colors is what catches my attention

[ladysharmaa]

Swim

bridgerton family x sis!reader

summary: when the youngest Bridgerton is playing in the garden with her siblings, she falls into the lake, not knowing how to swim. Realizing the accident, her older brother runs to save her

requested: yes

warnings: drowning

It was a hot day in the countryside, the heat almost unbearable and most of the animals seeking shelter in the shadows. The Bridgerton family was at Aubrey Hall, however the younger ones were dissatisfied with how the day was going. Daphne was away with her husband, Benedict had locked himself in the art room, consumed by a burst of inspiration, and Colin was still traveling through Europe. Eloise was visiting Penelope, and Lady Bridgerton was engaged in a lively chat with the other ladies of the parish.

"Anthony!" Y/n called out for the only brother left. However, she was also unlucky when she saw him hunched over paperwork in his study, his brow furrowed in frustration.

The youngest Bridgerton sighed in annoyence, everyone was busy except her three older siblings. However, their mother had forbidden them to go out and play in the garden without the surveillance of any family member, keeping them dry all day reading until they got tired of lying on the sofa, vanning themselves.

"Y/n! How many times do I have to say that you can't walk into my office like that?! It’s not proper." Anthony scolded her, he was also frustrated with the work that was piling up, the heat and his youngest siblings who couldn't seem to stop bothering him.

“The door was open…” Y/n muttered, only to earn a sharp glare. “I’m sorry, brother. But Hyacinth, Gregory, Francesca, and I are so bored. It’s unbearable indoors, and we want to play outside.”

The older man ran his hand over his forehead, taking a deep breath to control his impatience and not take it out on his little sister. The truth was that the heat wasn't helping for his patience.

“You know what?” he said, exhaling sharply, “Go. Go play outside. Just don’t disturb me again.”

"But mother said—”

"You'll be fine." Anthony waved a hand in the air, dismissing what the girl was going to say, his attention already focused on the documents. "Just don't get too close to the lake and if you need anything, fetch for a maid."

"Are you sure?" Y/n questioned hesitantly, knowing these weren't the rules Violet imposed.

"Off you go." the Viscount muttered, motioning for her to leave and close the door.

“Of course, brother.” she left in silence, closing the door.

She returned to her younger siblings with a bright smile, though a flicker of uncertainty lingered. "We can go!" she announced, and their faces lit up. The four of them dashed to the garden, their laughter ringing out as they burst into the open air.

The garden was Y/n’s favorite place, a haven of color and life. The vibrant flowers—roses, tulips, and daisies—lined the pathways, their sweet fragrance mingling with the warm summer breeze. A fountain bubbled gently at the center, its soothing trickle blending with the cheerful quacks of ducks paddling in the nearby lake. Towering trees offered patches of welcome shade, their leaves rustling softly as if whispering secrets to the wind.

Gregory raced to the fountain and splashed water at his sisters, eliciting squeals of surprise. The girls retaliated, sparking a playful water fight. The cool droplets against their skin brought much-needed relief from the sweltering heat, and their laughter echoed across the garden.

Hyacinth soon grabbed a small ball, and the group shifted to a lively game of catch. When Gregory threw the ball to Y/n, she was momentarily distracted by a pair of butterflies flitting gracefully nearby. The ball slipped through her fingers and rolled into the lake.

“Oh, no!” Y/n exclaimed, spinning around to face her siblings. “Anthony said the lake was off limits!”

“That was your fault, Y/n!” Gregory shot back, folding his arms. “You were distracted! Just go get the ball. Nothing will happen, and we can keep playing.”

Hyacinth frowned, tugging at Y/n’s arm nervously. “Be careful,” she whispered, glancing anxiously at the shimmering water. Francesca stood silently, her face a mix of worry and curiosity.

Y/n hesitated, looking between her siblings and the ball floating just a little too far from the edge of the lake. “Alright,” she finally said, though her voice trembled slightly. “I’ll get it, but don’t tell Anthony or Mama.”

She carefully made her way to the edge of the lake, the grass beneath her feet slippery and damp. The ball bobbed lazily on the water’s surface, taunting her. Stretching out her arm, she leaned forward as much as she could without stepping into the water.

“Just a little more…” Y/n muttered to herself, her fingertips brushing the edge of the ball. But the ground beneath her shifted suddenly, and with a startled yelp, she lost her balance. Her arms flailed as she tumbled forward, plunging into the cold water with a loud splash.

“Y/n!” Hyacinth screamed, her hands flying to her mouth as she watched her sister vanish beneath the surface.

“Y/n! Get up! Stop playing around!” Gregory shouted, his voice wavering as panic set in.

But Y/n wasn’t playing. The moment she hit the water, she remembered she didn’t know how to swim. Her brothers were always making the promise they would teach her how to swim, but they were always busy.

The weight of her wet dress dragged her down, and she struggled desperately to keep her head above the surface. Her hair was in front of her eyes, which was only adding to her panic. Her siblings were screaming behind her, but she couldn't do anything. She gasped, swallowing water instead of air, her arms thrashing uselessly.

“I-I can’t—help!” Y/n choked, her voice barely audible over the splashing.

Francesca started crying, while Hyacinth grabbed Gregory’s arm. “Do something, Gregory!” she pleaded, her voice high-pitched and trembling. "Help her!"

“I—I don’t know what to do!” Gregory stammered, his face pale as he watched his sister struggle. “We need Anthony!”

The three of them began screaming at the top of their lungs. “Anthony! Anthony! Help!”

Inside the house, Anthony sat at his desk, brow furrowed as he tried to focus on his work. But the distant sound of frantic shouting made him freeze. His siblings’ voices pierced through the thick walls of Aubrey Hall, each cry laced with panic.

“Anthony! Help! Y/n, swim, please!”

He was on his feet in an instant, the paperwork long forgotten. His hands were trembling and he was having trouble taking a breath in. Memories of his father dying were playing in his brain. He couldn't lose his younger sister, he wouldn't survive. He believed no one in the family would. Y/n was a ray of sunshine, she had the power of making him smile even in his darkest days.

Racing out of his study, he bolted through the house and into the garden. The sight that met him stopped his heart for a moment—Y/n floundering in the lake, her siblings screaming helplessly at the edge.

“Y/n!” Anthony roared, sprinting toward the water.

Without hesitation, he dove in, the cool shock of the water biting against his skin. His powerful strokes cut through the lake as he reached her, wrapping one arm securely around her chest to keep her head above water. “I’ve got you, Y/n! You’re safe!” he gasped, pulling her toward the shore.

Y/n coughed and sputtered, clinging tightly to Anthony’s arm as he hauled her out of the water and onto the grass. She collapsed onto her side, shivering and coughing up all the water trapped in her lungs.

“Y/n!” Hyacinth sobbed, rushing forward to kneel beside her. Gregory and Francesca hovered close, their faces streaked with tears.

Anthony knelt next to his youngest sister, his hands gently brushing the wet hair from her face. “What were you thinking?” he demanded, though his voice cracked with a mix of anger and fear. “I told you to stay away from the lake!”

“I-I’m sorry,” Y/n whispered, her voice trembling as tears streamed down her cheeks. “I was just trying to get the ball…”

“Forget the ball!” Anthony snapped, though the harshness of his words softened as he saw the guilt in her eyes. He sighed heavily, pulling her into a protective embrace despite her soaked clothes. “You scared me half to death, Y/n. Don’t ever do that again.”

“I won’t,” she murmured, burying her face in his shoulder. “I promise.”

Anthony held her tightly for a moment longer before pulling back and looking at the other three. “And you lot,” he said, fixing them with a stern glare, “should have come to me the second something went wrong. You don’t handle things like this on your own, understood?”

“Yes, Anthony,” Gregory muttered, his head bowed.

“I’m sorry, Anthony,” Hyacinth sniffled.

“Let’s get you all inside,” Anthony said, scooping Y/n into his arms. “Y/n needs to change out of these wet clothes, and all of you need to stay out of trouble. And don’t think this means I’m letting any of you off the hook when I tell Mother about this.”

The siblings exchanged nervous glances but said nothing. For now, they were just relieved Y/n was safe.

"And go get Benedict for me, please," Anthony sighed, tightening his protective hold on Y/n, who rested her head against his chest. Just like she used to when she was a baby, seeking comfort and safety in her older brother’s arms.

The Bridgerton siblings immediately sprang into action, not wanting to further anger their eldest brother. Gregory and Hyacinth bolted toward Benedict’s art room, their small footsteps echoing through the halls. Meanwhile, Anthony called for the maids, handing Y/n over gently and instructing them to draw her a warm bath and help her change into fresh clothes. Once she was seen to, he retreated to his room to rid himself of his soaked garments.

Later, Y/n was tucked into her bed, warm and safe, her cheeks flushed pink from the warmth of the bath. She had drifted off to sleep, her breathing soft and steady. Anthony sat in a chair beside her bed, his elbow resting on his knee as he leaned forward, his eyes locked on her small, peaceful frame. Every slight rise and fall of her chest reassured him she was still there, still breathing.

Beside him, Benedict sat in quiet solidarity, his hand supporting his chin as he watched his older brother wrestle with his thoughts.

“I thought we were going to lose her,” Anthony whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “She was screaming, Benedict. She was drowning, and I didn’t know if I’d reach her in time.” His jaw tightened, and he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “All because none of us had the bloody sense to teach her how to swim.”

“It’s not your fault, Anthony,” Benedict said softly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “She’s okay now. You saved her.”

Anthony shook his head, his eyes never leaving Y/n. “She asked me to let them go outside. I said yes because I was frustrated she was interrupting me. I didn’t think, Benedict. I didn’t think about the lake or the rules or how dangerous it was. I let her go because it was easier for me, and I put her in danger. That’s on me. I was irresponsible.”

Benedict’s hand squeezed his shoulder, grounding him. “You made a mistake, Anthony. But don’t forget, when it mattered most, you were there. You pulled her out of the water and you’re here now, making sure she’s safe. That’s what being the eldest means. You can’t be perfect all the time.”

Anthony let out a heavy sigh, leaning back in the chair. “I don’t have the luxury of mistakes. Not when it comes to them. Not when it comes to Y/n. I should’ve been better.”

Benedict paused for a moment before leaning forward, his tone shifting to something lighter, more familiar. “You know, Anthony, this might be the first time I’ve ever seen you admit to not being perfect. I’m almost proud of you.”

Despite himself, Anthony let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. “Not the time for jokes, Benedict.”

“Come on,” Benedict smirked, “you’ve been brooding for hours. She’s going to wake up and see that same grumpy expression, and then we’ll have a whole new mess to deal with.”

Anthony gave him a sidelong glance, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward slightly. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

Benedict leaned back, feigning a look of triumph. “I’ve been told.”

A small, sleepy voice interrupted their exchange. “Anthony? Benedict?”

Both men snapped their attention to Y/n, who was stirring in her bed. Anthony leaned forward immediately, brushing a hand over her forehead. “I’m here, Y/n. How are you feeling?”

Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at him with a mix of guilt and relief. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

Anthony’s heart clenched. “You don’t need to apologize, sweetheart. I’m the one who’s sorry. I should’ve been paying more attention.”

“You saved me,” she said softly, her small hand reaching out to grab his. “Thank you.”

Anthony squeezed her hand gently, his voice thick with emotion. “Always, Y/n. Always.”

Benedict leaned in, his tone playful. “And just so you know, next time you want to cause this much chaos, at least let me finish my painting first.”

Y/n let out a small, tired giggle, and Anthony finally allowed himself to relax. His little sister was safe, and he would make sure it always stayed that way.

[kookies2000]

Helluva Boss pilot: I have 59 million views in a span of four years.

Hazbin Hotel pilot: I have 91 million views in a span of four years!

Murder Drones pilot: I have 25 million in a year.

Lacka Daisy pilot: Well, I have 11 million in only 7 months.

The Amazeing Digital Circus pilot: Amateurs.

Everyone: What was that?

TADC: AMATEURS! *reveals 33 million views in 12 days*

[solardrop]

beanstalk.

aaron hotchner x fem!bau!reader

summary: a loser at the local pub thinks spencer is your boyfriend. Aaron drags him. tags: fluff. creepy men being creepy. body shaming (of spencer I'm so sorry). spencer just catching strays in general. word count: ~1.7k a/n: based on an ask. I was gonna just write my thoughts or a short 500 word drabble or something but then ended up writing this until the point I forced myself to just end it lmao. I think it gets a bit convoluted and cringe at the end but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ it was fun! not proofread. divider cred @/cafekitsune

The pub was going to the rue the day they made half-off appetizers their weekly special.

The team squeezed in two pushed-together tables and binged on the greasy delights. you and Spencer had gotten into sharp back and forth about the apocalypse on the way there, which earned the both of you a quick banishing to a corner of the table where the rest of the team wouldn’t be subject to your bickering.

You rest your head against the cool concrete pillar you were sandwiched against. A table pressed against a half-wall facing outdoors was a hard sell to a bunch of field agents. However, Penelope’s animated declaration for the team to ‘live a little’ —specifically, to do so before Rossi got any greyer— landed you a wonderful view of the outdoors. You could watch all the homey, drunken people sway to the music flowing from the patio. The crisp night air flushes the overwhelming smell of burnt grease away from your nose. Maybe you could convince Hotch to grab a window seat for some date nights, you have to admit, the vibes were growing on you. While you enjoy poking the brain of your younger genius friend, you miss the solid warmth of Aaron beside you. Thankfully, he opted to sit in front of you instead. 

You took the opportunity to tease him. You kick him playfully under the table, stealing his attention away from the conversation he is having with Derek. He turns to squint at you for a moment, only to grab your food to sandwich it between the wall and his thigh in retaliation. His fingers drum a steady rhythm against your ankle, the ticklish tap tap tap making you squirm. You motion to ensnare his ankle with your other leg when Spencer turns to point his flimsy white plastic fork at you. 

“If emergency services were still in full effect during the zombie apocalypse, there would be a drastic increase in the number of people infected and a significant loss in—”

“A significant loss in medical supplies. Spoken like a true prepper Reid. What's next, gonna tell me about the importance of learning how to pickle your own food for rationing?”

“Actually, during the Great Depression housewives pickles things that lasted their families almost—”

His impending rant is cut short by the return of your server. Anticipating the bill, Rossi reached for his wallet before the woman shakes her head at him. Instead, sliding a drink and a folded up napkin on the table and nodding her head at you. 

“For the lovely young miss by the window.” She flashes a smile at you, “One of our lovely patons seems to fancy you.”

All eyes snap to you, all the color draining from your face as you stare down at the offending item. The drink was almost glowing at you, bright pink glitter swirling in the liquid with pink gummy hearts floating at the top and crystal sugar bedazzling the rim. There was no way this was actually something for the human body to consume. Even Penelope’s brows raised in shock at its extreme display. 

You glance at Hotch, his leg picking up a steady bounce next to yours after the waitresses revelation. His face is hardened, jaw rocking back and forth as he glares at the folded paper next to the drink. You clear your throat and face the woman again.

“Can you tell me who sent this?”

She juts her sharp chin over your head towards one of the outdoor tables. Hotch’s neck cranes around before your own, and you lock eyes with an older man sitting a few tables down. His face was unpleasantly square, the outdated sandy mullet crowning his head doing him no favors either. He raises his beer bottle towards you with a wink. You shiver, scooting closer to Spencer when the admirer hauls himself out of his stool to stride towards you. Aaron has turned almost fully towards outside now, his brow raised.

“Ohh this is gonna be good,” JJ whispers from the other side of Reid. The comment earns her a sharp glare from Hotch, a blush burning in her cheeks as she goes back to nursing her cheeto-crusted mozzarella sticks.

“I just don’t understand,” Spencer starts, “There are seven other people at this table including men at this table why would he be bold enough to-”

A sharp knock sounder off the ledge of the short wall. 

“Well, hello darlin’. I don’t mean to interrupt the dinner with your friends here, Hello friends, m’  names Miles!” He flashed his eyes around the table with a toothy, mustached smile. 

“But i couldn’t help but see your pretty little face in this window ‘ere and I had to buy ya’ a drink!” 

“Ah… Thank you but um-”

“Don’t even sweat it beautiful!” Small specs of saliva fly from his mouth, causing even Spencer to jump back pulling on the hem of your shirt. As if to use you as a human shield from the germs the man was spewing in his general direction. Hooray. Your hero. 

“I even wrote my number on that there lil’ napkin for ya’. My momma raised a gentleman, so I gotta buy you more than a lil liquor before I take you down.” His beady eyes shoot down to your cleavage before snapping back to your face, licking his lip. 

The fingers on your ankles pause at this. Aaron stares down the side of the mans face, lips pressd into a fine line spread across his face. You decide to jump in before your boyfriend takes it upon himself to tear the mystery man a new one.

“Listen, I appreciate the sentiment but, I’m here to have dinner with my friends and my boyfriend so… I could pay you back for the drink? No harm done-”

“Boyfriend!?” He steps back, eyes scanning the table once more before landing on Spencer and snorting. 

“This lil’ stringbean? You can’t possibly be serious” He smiles at Spencer before he continues “Jack and the beanstalk here could barely muscle steel so ya’ll stuck him with plastic,” He waves a crooked finger aimlessly around the table, “And you expect me to believe he’s wrangling a fine figure like yourself down every night?”

That seems to hit a sore spot for Reid, who finally peeps his head from around you. He takes the moment to ramble about the millions of germs and pathogens that could be found on community utensils even after a full wash cycle. Much to the dismay of the creep and team alike, so much so that Derek had to nudge him with his foot. With the conclusion of Spencer’s monologue the man continues

“Anyways, darlin’ for one night let me take you for a spin. Lil' boy like that won't do ya' any good. I promise you only a bigger, older man knows how to really take care of someone crafted as fine as you.” His eyes lower to your chest again and stay there. 

“I assure you she already knows that,” Aaron spits. 

Your eyes snap to his face. He seemd deceptively calm now, his expression almost bored. 

“Pardon?” Miles asks, half-heartedly turning his body towards him. 

“I’ll put it like this for you Miles. Stringbean over here isn’t her boyfriend,” Spencer begins to squeak out in opposition to his new pet name, but Hotch’s voice bellows out above his own, “I know you’re pathetic, that was apparent from the moment you walked up here puffing your chest after buying the cheapest drink on the menu as a gift. But I’m almost surprised you made your impotence so obvious too, considering you made eye contact with everyone you view as non threatening, the women, the man in his late years, the kid.”

Aaron lazily cocks his head towards Morgan, “But not me and my friend here in the corner. But I’m sure you thought you got away with that. Now, I’d suggest you move. The cologne you sprayed to mask the smell of Motel 8 is starting to wear off.”

Your ears warm at his words. Every sharp word honeyed by his calm, almost sweet tone. He spoke as if he was reading the well thought out profile of an elusive crimminal instead of just some ass in a sit down. God you wanted to kiss him. He’d have to let team politics go just this once right? Just a thank you peck. 

Before you can move to move ask him for one, Miles sputters out, “Talkin’ to me like I’m some dumbass— Who the hell d’ya think you are man!?”

Each syllable causes a spray of spit to launch out his mouth, forcing you to scoot even closer to spencer to evade the line of fire. His face shines with sweat and grease, red rising from his shirt collar as he barks at Hotch’s words. 

“I’m her man. Her bigger, older man. But I’m sure you already knew that, since you still refuse to look at me.” Aaron reaches down into his pockets, flipping out his credentials with deft fingers, “And I’m also an agent. As is everyone at the table including the woman you’ve spent the past several minutes sexually harassing.” He scowls, “Now, go sit down and shut the hell up.”

Miles' eyes finally rip away from you to meet his now. The angered flush erupts across his whole body now. He opens his mouth several times before closing it again, iced out by the cold stare Hotch gives him. He turns on his heel and marches back to his table without a fight. He sniffs his collar before jumping back in clear disgust.

A beat passes and the whole table erupts into laughter at the absurd happenings. Aaron’s face softens, still frowning in the general direction of the slimy man. Jolting when Derek claps him on the back and shakes him in praise. 

“Alright Hotch! Racing to defend your girl, I didn’t know you had it like that!”

“Well, I’m not surprised,” You stretch across the table to grasp his hand, kissing his knuckles before he could protest. He envelopes your hand in both of his and gives you a warm smile,  “my man is my hero in and out of the field.” He breathes out a laugh, knocking his knee against yours for your teasing. 

“Next time, you and String Bean get into it, we’re doing a different seating arrangement.”

[monstersflashlight]

Maybe a Alien male x female reader. The humanoid (not sure if this is the right description to use but they kind of have the general silhouette of a human/some humanish features) Alien has a mate for life/soulmate situation and can be pretty pathetic (ex: please please please rizz meme) and maybe cries a lot. They meet reader and shenanigans ensue as they keep pursuing her. Maybe they meet at a Galaxy match making company that Reader accidentally signs up for or something or in the middle of a intergalactic space station.

Hi anon! This was SO FUN to write, love it. Hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Domming the alien

Alien x fem!reader || mating, praise kink, dom/sub dynamic (dom reader), bondage (light)

When the genetic testing showed that you were matched with some kind of alien, you were a bit more than shook. You thought those kind of things didn’t happen to women like you, but there you were, waiting for your perfect match in an intergalactic space station. Like… what the fuck was your life?

The naga assistant who brought you there told you about his alien species, about what you should expect knowing you are an alien’s mate. But you barely paid attention to her as you looked across the room, transfixed by him. He looked humanoid enough, his eyes a bit too big, his nose a bit too flat, his hair a bit too rubbery and his torso a bit too long. He looked almost humanoid… Apart from the bright orange coloring. And you were weirdly attracted to him.

The naga was talking as you two approached him, but neither of you payed any attention to her. The first thing he said to you was: “You are so pretty…” His eyes were bright, like there was some kind of light shining from within, and you were mesmerized.

“Thanks. You aren’t so bad yourself,” you joked, trying to catch your breath after seeing such a precious creature.

But he wasn’t giving you any time to catch it. “You are perfect. My pretty mate…” His tone was reverent, like you were the best thing that ever happened to him, and you could only stare at him.

And it all went from there. He became the best boyfriend in the world, in the whole galaxy. He studied all human customs and courts you like a professional. He brought you flowers, video-games, sweets… Anything you could wish for he offered, and you were on cloud nine. Better than that, you are in space, with the best alien you could have wished for.

But nothing prepared you for the first time you (physically) mated.

You are just chilling in his space apartment when he clears his throat and asks: “Would you… would you couple with me?” You look at him confused, not even having time to process before he starts begging. “Please, please, please…”

You look at him like he’s crazy. You already had sex a bunch of times, you are very familiar with his body and he is with yours. “What do you mean?” You ask, completely baffled by his question.

“In my culture we… Males are… I’ve seen some human coupling videos and the male is always so rough with females but us… With mates... It’s not like that.” He says it like it’s a secret, like it’s a huge deal for him that you are even considering giving him what he’s asking for.

And then it clicks.

You smirk up at him, your hands grabbing his cheeks softly and pulling him down, at eye level. “You want me to dominate you, sweetheart?” You enunciate each word slowly and with intent, your insides burning up at the idea of domming him.

He nods rapidly, eagerly, like the most precious alien puppy. “Please…” He repeats. You smile at him tenderly, kissing his flat nose.

“Okay, sweetheart. Strip, lay down, I’m going to tie you down.” You instruct, getting into your dom persona easily. It’s been a long time, but it feels great to dom him, it feels fated.

You look at he moves around the room, stripping and almost vibrating with anticipation and pent up sexual frustration. He lays down like a good alien and pulls his hands up, letting you tie him up with one of the space ropes that you are more than sure weren’t designed for that. But they would do, they are sturdy and soft, and you make sure to leave enough room so he can’t hurt himself. You tie his legs next, spreading him completely and smirking down at his submissive form.

He holds for like two seconds before he’s begging. “Please, please, please… Mate, please.” He sounds so good that you have to swallow a moan. You strip down slowly, looking at him squirming against the restrains.

“I like when you beg. But I like it even more when you whine.” You graze your nails over the ridges on his chest and he cries out, whining and moaning like you are subjecting him to the most amazing torture. “Come on, sweetheart, can you come from this? Can you come for me just caressing your skin?” The power trip is exhilarating, having such a big alien under you, trusting you to dom him, to make him cum, is driving you insane in the best way possible.

“Ye- yes. Please.” He can’t stop saying please and it shouldn’t make you as happy as it does.

You caress his skin for a bit more, the ridges on his chest so sensitive he’s screaming by the time you get him to come. “Good alien, such a good boy for me.” Your words make him shiver as the last shot of his green come spurs from his dick. He whines as you keep grazing your nails over his ridges, not letting him catch his breath. “Can you do it again? Can you keep going until I’m tired of playing with your pretty cock? Until I’m ready to fuck myself on you?” You keep talking as he moans. You rub your thighs together, trying to get some relief for yourself, but rapidly focusing back on him. He looks so pretty tied down for you, coming and crying.

He says something similar to a yes, but it’s rapidly lost in the throaty moan he lets out as you grab his erection with a bit too much force. The mixture of pain and pleasure make his eyes roll back into his head as his chest flushes in the best shade of orange. You smile at him, leaning down to trace his ridges with your tongue, nipping at them lightly. He cries out so loudly that you stop your movements, scared that you hurt him. But then you realize there’s some green come over your hand that wasn’t there a couple seconds before.

“Did you just come?” You try not to laugh, but a chuckle escapes your lips as he blushes deeper orange, almost red. He looks at you with unfocused eyes and tears rolling down his cheeks. He lets out such a pathetic sound that you shush him softly, patting his abdomen and climbing on top of him. “It’s okay, you are doing so good. Are you ready for me, sweetheart?” You ask, your pussy close to his abdomen.

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Please,” his begging is so great you have to bite down on your tongue to avoid moaning like a whore.

You sit on his abdomen and start grinding slowly, but your hips have a mind of its own and before you realize, you are rubbing your dripping pussy across his abdomen until his ridges are glistening with your desire. He keeps begging and groaning, making you even wetter. By the time you slip his dick inside, he’s a mess of tears and drool, so oversensitive with your previous actions that he cries out when he hits deep inside of you.

You groan and start riding him like you mean it, like you are a cowgirl on a mission and he’s just a toy for you to fuck. His eyes are rolled back and he’s moving his hips soft and slow, the restrains avoiding too much movement. You don’t care, your nails are grazing his ridges as you ride him, and when you come around his cock, he screams your name as he faints, his body pliant under you as you chuckle…

Maybe he wasn’t all that ready to be dommed by a human.

[debonairprincesposts]

well hello! what do you think about jason’s tits (those that he does not assume that are very big titties)?

Well my dear reader! I think that his tiddies don’t get enough attention. Like- imagine this:

Jason and you are just chillin’ on the couch and you wanna lay your head on a soft surface of sorts. And what do you know! His tiddies are just within reach. So, you just plop your head on there and pretend that you don’t know what your actions are doing to him. You can hear his heartbeat speeding up (he told you once before how sensitive his chest is and you just happen to put your head extremely close to his nipple. So your cheek is just moving his shirt where it lays as it just barely grazes his skin and it’s making him shudder and squirm in his seat. You smirk to yourself at his reaction).

Another time is when you feel kinda stressed and wanna just squeeze something. So, you just come up from behind him while he’s minding his business in the kitchen, and just casually cup his pecs and start squeezing and massaging them and playing with his nipples from over his shirt, twisting, pulling, and pinching while he subtly (it’s not subtle to you at all, you can read him like an open book) shakes and lets out little gasps where he stands and starts to lean against the counter for support as if to will himself to not completely submit to you and let you take him right then and there on the kitchen floor.

It’s gotten to the point where every time he spots you in the vicinity, he prepares himself and expects you to just come up from behind him and start your assault on his tits. (he doesn’t hate it, he’d just like a warning when it happens)

Every time you compliment him on having such plush, soft tits while teasing him, he quietly whines saying that they’re not tits or something (it doesn’t take long to convince him otherwise.)

I think it would go something like this:

“Look at how wonderful these are,” you say as you squish them together. You’re sat atop his lap as he lays back on the couch, shirt off. “I could play with these all day. Such pretty tits, don’t you agree, Jason?”

His breaths come out in soft gasps as you continue to twist and pinch at his chest.

“Not tits,” he gasps out while lightly shaking his head, “They’re not.” He’s tightly gripping onto your waist as you unhurriedly grind atop his groin which causes a soft mewl to escape his lips.

You grin at his reaction and grab one of his hands and place it on one of his tiddies and squeeze.

“Yeah, they are.” You say as you use your other hand to guide his chin to make him glance down. “Look at them, Jay. Aren’t they pretty?”

His face is red at he looks down at his chest, his breath catches in his throat as he takes a proper look, full of hickies and bright red bite marks from your previous ministrations. Your grinding isn’t helping at all. He might come in his pants if you keep that up. He moans as you keep up with your actions. Curious if you could get him to cum from just touching his chest and light pressure on his groin.

A reedy sound brings you back to the present (the color on his chest from your attention was distracting.) Lost in your thoughts from admiring your work. He looks mesmerizing. Eyes dilated so much that you can barely spot the teal of his irises, his eyes appearing almost completely black. His face is practically the color of his helmet, it’s almost impressive. Shudders leave his body as he completely sinks back onto the couch.

You use the hand that grasping his chin to point it to the side as you lean in to leave more bruises on his neck, your grinding unfaltering. His moans increase in volume as you bite and suck on his sweet spot right at the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

The hand that’s on your waist twitches, his mouth opens in a silent moan as he gasps loudly while throwing his head back on the back of the couch as he gives a full body shiver, cum staining the inside of his pants.

You stop your actions as you take a minute to admire the fucked out look on his face.

You lean your face close his ear as you say, “Think your tits are pretty now, Jay?”

He shivers from the air brushing against his ear. He nods with a quiet whine, sounding out an almost inaudible “uh-huh”, unable to get any more words out.

You grin in victory, “There you go.”

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

I think I went over board. It was only supposed to be a few sentences long.

Didn’t even know I could write like that.

Anyway! Hope that answers your question!

[starkeysprincess]

after lecture punishment ༉ೀ

pairing: professor!rafe x reader warnings: sir kink, spanking, fingering, edging, praising, 18+ mdni

word count: 1.6k request: Hiiii! Can you write something with Professor!Rafe? Like where reader can't focus in class because of how sexy he is/ starts failing so he keeps her after class or something like that lol <3333

main m.list ⟡ rafe cameron m.list ⟡ taglist

“Fuck” you muttered to yourself, staring at your test result, the bright red ink that marked the paper with a ‘D-’. 

When you first started the second semester of your junior year, you never thought in a million years that you would score anything lower than a ‘B’. You passed your previous classes with flying colors, but it looks like this class alone would be the one to damage your track record. If you were being honest, it’s not that you didn’t study or try hard enough, it was your lack of attention span. Your attention was focused on something else during lectures, or should you say someone. 

That someone is none other than the man teaching your class, Professor Cameron. You couldn’t help it, you’ve always had a thing for older men and it didn’t help that he was the sexiest man you’ve ever seen. You were so engrossed with him, that you even noticed he wasn’t married, there wasn’t a ring adorning his left ring finger. 

You were disrupted from your thoughts when you heard rustling around you, looking to see your classmates packing their belongings into their bags. You shove your test into your binder, standing up as you gather your items. Your feet carried you towards the door, passing Professor Cameron’s desk before you felt a hand brush against your arm as he called out your name, following with “Could you walk with me to my office? I have a few things to discuss with you”. You watched as your classmates dispersed out of the room before turning your head, looking at him, and nodding.

You walked behind him, following him like a lost puppy as he led the way to his office. His name plaque mounted near his office door, glinting from the lighting, catches your eye. He twists the doorknob, opens the door, and steps aside to let you in, his eyes shamelessly glued to how your hips swayed as you walked in. He follows behind you, shutting the door, and gesturing for you to sit at the chair in front of his desk. 

“I couldn’t help but look at your transcript and noticed you’re an honor student, is that right?”, Professor Cameron leans back against his desk, standing in front of you, crossing his arms over his chest, his biceps bulging against the sleeves of his white button-up. “Uh, yes, sir” you mutter, feeling yourself fidget with your skirt. His eyes fixate on your skirt before he clears his throat, “Your grades for the past few semesters are impressive but coming into this class, I have yet to see the honor student in you”.

“You do understand that your grade in this class is on the verge of failing, correct?” he questions, to which you sheepishly nod, “Is there something going on outside of class affecting your learning?”. You nervously bounce your leg up and down, “No, sir. I’ve just been distracted, that’s all”. Professor Cameron’s face turns into a look of amusement, “Distracted? What’s makin’ a smart girl like you distracted?”.

Your face flushes with embarrassment, “It’s nothing”, you mumble, watching as Professor Cameron rolls his sleeves up, his hands moving behind him, settling on his desk, “Nothin’? If it was nothin’, you wouldn’t be on the verge of failing my class. I’ve been watching you during my lectures, you’re a good girl. You wouldn’t lie, would you?”. 

“N-no”, you lied, stuttering as he observed your face, taking in your reaction, as if he was trying to detect if you were lying. He lets out a ‘tsk’, standing up and pinching your elbow between his fingers, pulling you out of the chair and into his chest. “Thought a smart girl like you would know better about lying” he shakes his head, “I can’t help you with your grade unless you tell me what’s been distracting you. That, or I’ll have to get it out of you, it’s your choice, sweetheart”. 

When you don’t give him an answer, he pushes you against his desk, forcing you to bend over. He grabs your hands, pinning them onto the top of his desk with one hand. His voice is gruff, “Alright, you made your choice, guess I’ll have to get it out of you”. His rough, large hand pushes your skirt up your hips, revealing your thong and your heart is pounding in your chest, anticipating his next move. 

His hand runs along the curve of your ass, kneading at the flesh before he pulls his hand back and delivers a sharp smack. You yelp at the contact, squirming to get your wrists out of his hold, and it only makes him bring his hand down again, the sound echoing in his office. His signet ring catches against your skin with each smack he’s given. “Remember, you made your choice. You could be a good girl and tell me what’s been distracting that pretty little head of yours and I’ll stop…or, you don’t and I’ll have to keep punishing you” he warns, reminding you with another smack to your reddening ass. 

He releases his grip on your wrists, “Keep them on the desk” his voice was stern, giving you no room for argument. Rafe’s hands cup the globe of your ass, spreading your cheeks apart, “Then again…I think you’re enjoying this” he chuckles to himself, his eyes locked on your arousal staining a wet patch onto your thong. He hooks his finger into your thong, tugging it to the side, your glistening cunt on display for him.

A gasp can be heard from you the second you feel his spit running along your folds before he spreads it across your lips, his signet ring-clad finger prodding at your hole. “As long as you tell me, I’m more than willing to help you with anything you need”, his words indicating he wasn’t talking about your grades.

His thick digit pushes into you, your warm, wet walls sucking him in and he can’t help but groan at how tight you feel around his finger. “So fuckin’ tight, gonna have to stretch you out” his words ringing in your ears as he adds another finger, slowly pumping them in and out. You scoot yourself back, trying to stand up but he’s quick to press his palm on your lower back, holding you there as his fingers move faster. You moan at the delicious sensation of the coolness his signet ring creates as it bumps at your clit with each thrust of his fingers.

Your slick coats his fingers, practically soaking them, filling his office with the wet, squelching sounds of his fingers brutally thrusting into you. “Can’t have you gettin’ too loud on me, sweetheart”, his hand reaches around, and clamps down on your mouth, muffling your moans of pleasure when he curls his fingers, hitting at your g-spot. He removes his hand from your mouth, snaking it between your legs to rub at your clit. He can sense you’re close, your inner walls contracting, and gripping his fingers. 

You whine out in frustration when you feel his fingers slowing down. Rafe pushes himself forward until his chest is flush against your back, his weight pressing you further onto his desk, “Wanna know what I think?” his warm breath tickles your ear. “I think your pretty little head is distracted and full of filthy thoughts”, his thumb slowly circled at your clit, “Filthy thoughts of me”. 

You shake your head, not trusting your voice, “No? So you don’t press your thighs together, trying to relieve the throbbing need for me when you see me? You don’t think about being bent over my desk like you are right now?”. He doesn’t miss the way you clench around his fingers at his words, “S’okay to admit it”, he coos, his fingers picking back their speed while his thumb circling on your clit faster. 

“P-Please, sir”, you stutter, your hand moving to hold onto his arm between your legs as you’re on the brink of an orgasm, the same orgasm that he ripped away from you. “Please what?”, he taunts, “Please let me cum”, you plead, tears welling in your eyes. His fingers slowed their movement, edging you once again, “No can do. You’re a smart girl, you know what I want to hear”.

“C’mon, sweetheart, just tell me what’s been distracting you in my class and I’ll let you cum, yeah?” He mutters, already knowing the source of your distraction but wanting to hear you admit it. “Be a good girl and I’ll have you makin’ a mess on my fingers in seconds, I promise” He adds. 

“You’ve been distracting me” You hiccup as you admit what he’s been wanting to know. “Yeah? How?” He taunts, his fingers relentlessly pumping in and out of your cunt with ease, curving his fingers, repeatedly thumping at your g-spot, “Been distracting you so much that little head of yours can’t think of anything except the thought of me bending you over, stuffing you full of my cock?”. 

“Yes” you lazily nod, your head feeling dizzy and your response is good enough for him, “Go on, cream all over my fingers”. Your cunt flutters around his fingers, legs trembling, almost giving out as you come undone all over his fingers. “Good girl, see, that wasn’t so hard” He praises, slowly moving his fingers, helping you come down from your high. He withdraws his fingers from you, pulling them into his mouth, sucking them clean, “Fuck…been wanting to know what that sweet cunt tasted like”

You shakily stand up, smoothing out your skirt to fix your appearance when Rafe pinches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head up to look at him, “From now on, I want you to be under my mentorship, alright?” he mumbles, his thumb brushing at your bottom lip, the corner of his lip twitching upwards at your response, “Yes sir”.

tagging: @oceandriveab @babygorewhore @xxbimbobunnyxx @rafesthroatbaby @annoyingassleo @drudyslut @sturnioloshacker @redhead1180 @shawtycoreee @starkeyisthelastname @hallecarey1 @heartsforvin @eddieslut69 @bimbotrashcan @bunnyrafe @kisses4angel @hyperfixationgirl @emilysuperswag @flvredcas @usergeta @rafeinterlude @rafecameroninterlude @starkeysheart @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @fae-of-prey @amandabbbbb @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @spid6y @chimindity @spacexdrago @honeybunniesoobin @juniebugg @wearemadeofstardust0 @blckbrrybasket @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @chrislapdog @dark1paradise @nemesyaaa @rafescurtainbangz @zyafics @ijustwanttoreadlols

[lynxgriffin]

Eldritchrune - Dreemurr of Demons

1 | 2 | 3

Story Setup Eldritchrune Masterpost

Asriel ventures back to Hometown while on the trail of trying to find out what happened to Kris, and stumbles across an unusual man who's all too excited to share his demon-warding knowledge! But it's unclear so far whether this knowledge will actually be of help to him...

Yaaay all done with this series back with the Dreemurrs! This one was definitely the longest, but also had some important info! What I'll tackle next is a mystery to me right now...

Alt text for these pages is under the read more:

Page 1 Panel 1: Exterior shot of a back alley in Hometown, with old barrels and boxes stacked behind medieval buildings. Asriel walks down the alley, wearing a striped shirt, glasses and scruffy blond hair, and carrying a large canvas bag over his shoulders. The annoying dog trots happily beside him.

Panel 2: The annoying dog drops his nose to the ground, sniffing at some interesting smell.

Panel 3: The dog bounds off ahead of Asriel to a haphazard collection of trinkets, boxes, jars and displayed charms, all partially covered with colorful cloths. A man is kneeling under one of the tent setups. Asriel walks to catch up with the dog, asking, "What's got your interest this time, dog?"

Panel 4: The man pops up from his odd collection and turns to Asriel with arms spread and a big smile. He has short curly hair, and is dressed in a medieval robe with a cape slung over his shoulders, and bone designs in his sleeve cuffs. He answers, "Just the finest assortment of handmade charms and magical meals made by yours truly, THE GREAT PAPYRUS!" The dog happily circles Papyrus, tail wagging.

Panel 5: Asriel is a bit taken aback by the introduction, but waves in greeting anyway, and responds with "…Oh! Howdy!" The dog sits in front of Papyrus, panting and wagging his tail.

Page 2 Panel 1: Papyrus leans down with a big grin to pet the dog and ruffle its face. "What a bright and clever fellow! Such a sweet face!"

Panel 2: "You're a good, good boy, aren't you?" Papyrus continues. However, the dog glances over to the side, as something has got his attention:

Panel 3: It's one of the charms Papyrus has on display: a large femur bone decorated with paint, beads and feathers.

Panel 4: The dog leaps up and snatches the charm in its mouth. Papyrus looks agape at this thievery, eyes cartoonishly wide. "Wh-HEY! That's my SPECIAL demon-warding charm!"

Panel 5: The dog goes running off further into the alley, the bone still in its mouth. Papyrus shakes his fist at it and yells after it: "You thieving scoundrel! I take back all the nice things I said about you!"

Panel 6: Papyrus quickly turns back to Asriel with a more apologetic look; even now he can't be too mean. He says, "I apologize, I didn't mean to yell at your dog. I'm sure he's normally better behaved!" Asriel waves off the apology with tired bemusement. "No, it's fine. He's not really my dog." Under his breath, he adds, "He just keeps following me around for some reason…"

Panel 7: Papyrus stands back up and gestures to his odd collection. "In any case, you at least are welcome to my little shop-in-the-works!"

Page 3 Panel 1: Papyrus leans in close to Asriel, observing him, and getting a bit into his personal space. "You look a little familiar, though! Are you perhaps related to Mr. Dreemurr?" Asriel nervously adjusts his glasses, and replies, "Heh, yes. I'm Asriel, his son."

Panel 2: Asriel holds up a hand and gives a little sideeye to the alley around them. "But, uh…I actually don't want my parents to know that I'm back in town, so I'd appreciate you keeping quiet about me being here."

Panel 3: Papyrus mirrors that sideeye, hands on his hips, as if recalling some recent incident. "Ahh…I know well the trials of avoiding family. Especially when they decide to try out some terrible new jokes."

Panel 4: Papyrus makes a lip-zipping motion with his hand and mouth. "Not to worry, my lips are sealed!" Asriel smiles back, and says, "Thanks, I appreciate it."

Panel 5: A wider shot of the two still standing within Papyrus's collection of tents and trinkets. Papyrus asks, "So, if it's not to see your folks, what brings you back around Hometown?" Asriel glances around them, and replies, "I'm looking for something. Or well…kinda hoping I don't find something here."

Page 4 Panel 1: Papyrus points up one finger, looking as if he's already solved this problem. "If you don't want to find it, then looking for it seems rather counterintuitive!"

Panel 2: Asriel looks a little taken aback by that logic. "Yes, well… Okay you have a point, but…"

Panel 3: Asriel keeps glancing behind him, as if expecting to see someone there. "This is kind of the next step in a trail of research I've been doing."

Panel 4: Papyrus puts a hand to a chest and puffs himself up, imitating his heroic poses from Undertale. "Well, if your research involves handmade charms and tasty foods both designed to ward off demons, evil spirits and the like… Then I'll be your most cited source!"

Panel 5: Asriel crosses his arms and raises his eyebrows, intrigued by this. "Really."

Panel 6: "You know a lot about demons, huh?" Asriel asks as he sits himself on one of the rugs within the tent setup. Papyrus keeps up his self-congratulatory pose. "I, the Great Papyrus, am a bonafide expert in such subjects! Sad that so few around here seem to recognize my talents."

Page 5 Panel 1: Asriel holds his hands up, willing to follow this strange thread wherever it might lead. "Well, I've got a question that all my research hasn't been able to answer for me, so perhaps you can…"

Panel 2: A pause as Asriel holds on to his thoughts, hands closed in front of his face. Papyrus sits down on the rug across from him.

Panel 3: Asriel lowers his hands, his face deeply serious. "How do you kill a demon?"

Panel 4: Papyrus looks back at him with an equally serious expression, then…

Panel 5: The seriousness is gone as he gives a casual shrug, and gives an answer. "Oh, that's simple. You don't!"

Panel 6: Asriel looks a little bit baffled, and disappointed. "…You don't?"

Panel 7: "No, silly. They're immortal, like angels!" Papyrus keeps up the casual shrug, as if this information is obvious.

Panel 8: However, Papyrus then seems to become aware of why this is being asked. He looks around the area frantically, his head whipping back and forth. "Why?! Are there demons around here that my detection flatbreads missed?!" Asriel offers an amused smile back. "Heehee… no, I don't think so."

Page 6 Panel 1: The seriousness returns to Asriel's face as he scratches at his nose, lost in worried thought. "I just…have this real bad hunch. I'm trying to prepare myself for all potential outcomes."

Panel 2: Papyrus ignores the seriousness of the situation, and just seems impressed. "Preparation! The hallmark of the truly intelligent!"

Panel 3: Asriel is still set on getting some information, and continues his questions. "Thanks. So, if you can't kill them, what do you do about them?" Papyrus holds up a finger again, happy to keep explaining: "Well, you got two options! First, you can banish them back to their own plane!"

Panel 4: Papyrus continues, "However, that's really only the ideal option if you're the one that summoned them in the first place. Otherwise it's a whole ordeal." In the background, Papyrus's point is illustrated with a little graphic of a cult member holding up a hand in rejection of a demon within a summoning circle. The demon looks confused and perturbed by the rejection.

Panel 5: Asriel says, "I see. What's the other option?" Papyrus continues his explanation across the two panels: "You bind the demon to something! Quickest and easiest thing to do is bind them to an object! Buuut, problem with that is, if your object gets broken or destroyed, now your demon's free and even angrier than before."

Panel 6: To illustrate his point, another background graphic shows a shocked human with a broken jar in front of them. A demon rises out of the remains of the broken jar, looking angry and ready to strike.

Page 7 Panel 1: Papyrus again continues his explanation across two panels. "Hardest and most time-consuming thing to do is to bind them to a place! Good option if you have the prep time, but then you can't really use that place anymore. Better pick a restaurant you hate and hope no one there minds you standing outside it chanting for three days straight."

Panel 2: To illustrate his point further, a scene (perhaps a flashback) shows Papyrus with his arms raised outside of a restaurant, supposedly chanting angrily at it, while another person stares back at him from the doorway, hands on their hips in annoyance.

Panel 3: Asriel watches as Papyrus finishes up the rest of his explanation: "Aaaand, last thing you can do is…bind the demon to a person! Which…"

Panel 4: Papyrus stops suddenly. For the first time, he looks actually disturbed and hesitant.

Panel 5: Asriel watches quizzically, waiting for him to continue.

Panel 6: When he doesn't continue, Asriel tries to prompt him on, tilting his head towards him. "…And?"

Panel 7: Papyrus quickly waves his hands in front of him, smiling nervously, clearly trying to dismiss the whole idea. "But you know, we don't need to go into the details of that!"

Panel 8: Asriel says nothing, but remains in nervous thought, one hand covering his mouth. It's clear that this is sticking in his mind the most.

Page 8 Panel 1: Asriel remains sitting with a hand to his chin in thought, but Papyrus has moved on to better advice. "But as I always say, an ounce of prevention's worth a pound of cure! You're much better off trying one of my charms or meals to-go!"

Panel 2: Asriel lets himself smile more at this suggestion. "Y'know? I'm sold. And also a bit hungry."

Panel 3: Asriel gets up, and drops a handful of coins into Papyrus's open hand, which Papyrus looks at in surprise. Asriel says, "Give me your best demon-warding meal."

Panel 4: Papyrus stares down at the coins in his hand, his eyes cartoonishly big and shiny, full of excitement. "WOWIE!! My FIRST ever sale!" he says with a big smile.

Panel 5: Papyrus leaps up and begins to rummage through some of the boxes and barrels around his collection. "This calls for my finest delicacy!" Asriel watches him from a few steps back, and mutters under his breath, "…First ever?…"

Page 9 Panel 1: Papyrus straightens back up, gesturing to a small sack that he is holding in one hand. He looks pleased with himself. "Spiced candied yam bites, from my home country!"

Panel 2: "Each one will purge you of evil spirits for a whole ten hours!" he continues. He hands the small sack off to Asriel, who takes it from him and says, "Sounds like a good deal." In the background, the annoying dog pops back up from behind some other boxes, holding something in its mouth.

Panel 3: Asriel hefts the bag over his shoulder again, and holds up the sack of treats in acknowledgement of the exchange. "Well, I know where to come if I need more info and good charms."

Panel 4: Papyrus stands proud, both hands on his hips, happy at being able to spout off his knowledge to a stranger. "Yes, yes! Tell all your friends about the fantastic advice and the culinary masterworks of the Great Papyrus!" he says excitedly.

Panel 5: Asriel heads off back into the alleyways, and waves goodbye to Papyrus. The annoying dog follows close behind his steps. Papyrus enthusiastically waves to the two as they leave, and says, "Safe travels to you and your annoying dog!"

Page 10 Panel 1: Papyrus turns back to his collection of trinkets and boxes with a determined look, hands on his hips. "And now to see where that criminal canine buried my special charm…" he says to himself.

Panel 2: While continuing on through the alleyways, Asriel opens the small sack and pulls out one of the candied yam bites.

Panel 3: Asriel glances back down at the dog, and notices that he's carrying something that's making a tinking noise. It's partially hidden from view. "Oh boy, what did you steal now?" he asks with a wry smile.

Panel 4: Asriel takes the yam bite and pops it into his mouth with a crunch…

Panel 5: …Only to then make a face, his eyes wide and his mouth scrunched up, as if tasting something indescribable.

Panel 6: "What IS this flavor?" Asriel asks to himself, although all but his back foot are off-panel. The focus is on the annoying dog, who is shown to be carrying a strange, heart-shaped metal lantern on a chain.

[mondaymelon]

₊˚ෆ 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇 !! | sagau xiao, childe, zhongli x gn!reader

ˋ°•*⁀➷ cw: uhm. obsessiveness? yandere if you blink a couple times? cult themes... the usual deal with this au

⤷ [ you, the benevolent and kind overseer and creator of teyvat, has descended upon this world in mortal flesh, with a presence that is overpowering, omniscient, and so impossibly pure. ෆ yet, one day, you come into the cathedral with a gash on your arm, dripping with shimmering golden ichor that spilled from your veins. there will always be those who are too foolish to see the light you bring. ]

— sagau!xiao noticed you immediately. it would be hard not to. since the beginning, he had always heard it.

your sound. a beautiful one, a heavenly one. a chord struck him, somewhere in his chest, and he found himself panting on the ground, clutching at the fabric of his shirt.

like a electric charge - one that leaves you startled, tentative, with the tips of your fingers still tingling from what happened moments prior. a buzz in your veins that thrums along with your heartbeat.

he didn't deserve to see you. not with what sins he had committed. but xiao was selfish. he wanted to, with his tainted body, he wanted to praise you, scrape his throat raw with his voice.

and so he did.

his face brightens as you step into the cathedral, dressed in ceremonial robes as per usual. you look ethereal, why would you not? your eyes are warm as they fixate on him, and he can feel his heart skip a beat and words die in his throat. he kneels before you orderly, readying to lift his head when something catches his attention - that is, the coppery scent of blood.

blood?

a droplet splatters onto the dustless floor. melted gold.

xiao's already stood up before he realizes it. his eyes are blown wide, his shrunken pupils sharp, like a cat's. "who. who did this to you?" those words take all the willpower in him to speak. his mind is swirling, racing, thinking up of every single possibility, vision scattered and blurry as unbridled fury teems within him.

"it's nothing. some civilians have begun rioting in the city, saying that i'm an imposter. all i did was show them a little bit of my blood and they all started singing praises, so the issue has been resolved." you shake your head with a soft smile, like this matter isn't anything to concern himself over.

it is.

he hates it. how he feels so fucking powerless, how he couldn't even stop this simple event from occurring in the first place. it's his fault. it's his and everyone else who dared not believe your words. your word is the truth. it is the undeniable laws of the world, what maps the stars and what lays the land.

he'll have time to ingrain that within everyone's minds. even if it means time away from you. but that's not the issue at the moment. he turns to search for bandages, but sees the already-healing wound slowly closing up as your skin mends together.

there's a knife at your side, coated in something that shimmers in the rays of light coming from the high, color-tainted windows.

something in his heart decides, seeing your reserved smile.

there will always be those who are too foolish to see the light you bring.

very well.

then he'll just have to eradicate every last one of them. ₊˚ෆ

— sagau!childe had, to be honest, never cared all that much. why would he, to the person who had abandoned him into the cold, dark, abyss? yet, the smile on your face. it's bright. so bright it burns him. was there a day where he could smile like that?

no, no. he couldn't. that's an expression only reserved for someone as beautiful as you. as pure as you, like a blank, unblemished canvas, with the world as its paint. it's a level of resplendency that no one on this cursed universe could ever hope to accomplish.

a god in flesh, living in a tainted world. a walking contradiction that he had grown to call the thing that allowed him to keep living. something that spurred irony, you who broke all forms of the logic he had made to keep himself sane. perhaps that was why the heart he'd locked away has suddenly begun aching again? is that why he feels so warm from your divine prescence?

"childe?" you call out his name into the vast, empty hallways, glancing around for the familiar sight of a tuft of ginger hair. he hears you at once, rushing to your side with a grin on his face.

"your grace??" he bows at the sight of you, unable -to contain his excitement as he quivers in place, the smile on his lips tugging upwards even more than its current extent. "yes, what's-"

he stops abruptly, his voice faltering as he catches the scent of something iron. one familiar on the battlefield, a liquid that'd paint the surroundings a beautiful red.

his heart pounds. the thrill of a battle? no, that can't be it. if that was the case, how come it felt like he was slowly suffocating on his unspoken words?

that's when he catches the sight of the poorly wrapped bandages encasing your forearms. and the shimmering ichor that's soaked through the hastily wrapped cloth.

he moves to grab your arm, but curses himself out as he quickly changes direction and tightly holds your wrist, his expression more pained than yours, despite you being the one suffering with the injury. "what... your grace, what is this?"

he hates your knowing smile. he hates it. (oh, but does he? could he hate anything that is of you?) it just reminds him how you're all too far for him to reach, a purity that he does nothing to maintain. "there was a riot in the city against the church. luckily, they all quieted down after i gave them a glimpse of..." you trail off, ending your incomplete sentence with a sheepish smile. the rest is self-explanatory, anyway.

his vision trembles as his pupils shake. "haha, you...?" fuck. fuck fuck fuck, just whose idea was it to allow you near a knife? how did you get your hands on that?? which stupid fucking bumbling idiot allowed for this to happen?

it's his fault. he should've been by your side. curse the fatui, curse them all, how could they possibly dare keep him away from your holy being? the guilt that churns within him, is that why he remains mute as you step away, gracefully walking to meet with the other retainers?

there will always be those who are too foolish to see the light you bring.

no, it's fine.

it will all be fine.

cutting off their tongues won't be enough. cutting them up until they're a dismembered, bloody mess isn't even close to what you've suffered for the sake of humanity.

yes, he'll make them realize that. they'll pay with their blood a thousand times over. ₊˚ෆ

— sagau!zhongli had his breath taken away by you before he even saw you, before the two of you had even exchanged words. your presence - it was so simply alluring, a saccharide charm that just drew him closer and closer.

sweet. yes, it was a familiar flavor upon the tongue that had long since tasted the many marvels the world had to offer. like a warm cup of tea, made from the sugary extract of flowers, how the sensation of it seemed to bloom upon your mouth.

ah, how should he put this. perhaps you had procured the blossom in his heart instead? stems, leaves, buds, a floret that'd only appear when you were in his gaze. a steady thrum that ran throughout his body with every stolen glimpse he took from your attention expertly.

perhaps, was this what he felt all those years ago?

did it matter? his soul was resolute, now, and it glowed gold, just like the blessed blood that flowed through every vein and lay in every vessel within that beautiful, beautiful you.

yes, ichor... just like the splatter of it on the ground...? a pang of fear strikes him - has something happened to you while he was away? he should've none better than to trust those good-for-nothing other cultists, who spend all their time babbling about your gloriousness yet turn a blind eye to whenever you require assistance!

no, he had to calm himself down. this wasn't the moment where he should grow frustrated. first, he must confirm the situation... he's planned this out to the every plan b, c, d, e, and so on, so how come he's still feeling so anxious?

there you are, upon your throne, busy conversing with a fellow archon, the one as free as the wind. funnily enough, you were the one that tied him down like a shackle.

"ah, zhongli. are you alright? you're breathing quite hard." you tilt your head, averting your gaze from venti's sparkling eyes and instead fixing them on the usually stoic man's jumbled expression. his shoulder's heave as he resists the urge to collapse at your feet.

"what... what are you... you're hurt?" stained bandages peek out from just below your silk sleeve, a sight that cannot possibly be missed from his attentive gilded eyes. "why didn't you tell me? i-i'll call one of the healers so they can-"

"zhongli, there's no need for that." with a hand, you gently signal venti to leave the scene, which he does, with obvious reluctance. a silence gesture that resonates with appreciation deeply within him. "this was of my own accord."

"your own accord?"

"unbelievers decided to throw a riot, and there wasn't much i could do except...well, don't they say that seeing is believing?" how come you don't look the slightest bit pain? where is your self-pity? your frustration? "anyhow, i'm not in a good state. please leave me for the time being, i don't plan on receiving any more audiences tonight."

he bows hastily, yet each movement is still finely crafted with minuscule adjustments that have taken him thousands of tries to master. he does as you say, and his strides are quick and long. it won't take a genius to see that his facade has crumpled, with the clear agitation that's spreading across his features like a wildfire that devours all in its path.

there will always be those who are too foolish to see the light you bring.

he'll change that. every thrum of the golden markings running up and down his body seem to pulse in unison with his heartbeat, which is raring like he's recently returned from the battlefield.

who would've thought he'd so quickly return.

this time, of his own will. he'd be sure that these fools of this world would learn the truth of your paragon. ₊˚ෆ

(a/n) please save me the delulu has returned and iTS NOT LETTING GO

໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123

[purple-plum-petals]

Can I pretty please get some headcanons of mr chopped with a s/o that loves to grab him sudenly just to give him kisses?

 ⊱ Smothering Him in Kisses ⊰ || Mr. Chopped Headcanons

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮ Character(s): Mr. Chopped (Homicipher/文字化化) Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns) Warning(s): Nothing! Genre: Headcanons, Fluff, Pre-Established Romantic Relationship Word Count: ~420 words Request: “Can I pretty please get some headcanons of mr chopped with a s/o that loves to grab him sudenly just to give him kisses?” Author’s Note: Yes, you may!! Thank you for sending in such an adorable request – Mr. Chopped is just too cute. I wish we had more moments with him in-game. 😭 This one is a little on the shorter side since only one character was requested, but I hope you enjoy it nevertheless! 

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡ ╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

🗣️: Honestly, his reaction depends on his mood or when you decide to randomly smother him in kisses. If he was sleeping and you suddenly grabbed him to place kisses across his cheeks, he might get a bit pouty and scold you for scaring him out of a dead sleep. Don’t you know that’s rude?? However, if he’s fully conscious, he’ll take your kisses with either a bright smile or quietly sulk while he allows you to shower him in affection. He has mixed feelings about being manhandled unless he explicitly asks you to carry or hold him, so just ask for his consent before you decide to smother him in your love (you should ask for consent no matter what, folks)! 

🗣️: He does love your kisses, though… He enjoys the feeling of your hands gently cradling his face, your thumbs brushing over the apples of his cheeks while your lips leave feather-light touches across his flesh. He knows he’s safe there with you, and that you’ll protect him from anything that wants to bring him harm. Honestly, he’s never slept better than when he’s with you, resting on your chest or lap or stomach, nuzzling into your body for more warmth and comfort. 

🗣️: Mr. Chopped seems like the kind of person who would adore butterfly kisses. He finds the action endearing and will laugh softly when your lashes lightly brush against his skin. Another type of kiss besides your traditional cheek and/or lip kiss is nose kisses. His nose will scrunch up as you rub the tips together, and he finds it to be the most wonderful feeling in the world – that fluttering sensation he gets despite having no heart or stomach. My man just eats up any attention or affection that you’re willing to give (as long as you don’t catch him off-guard – he hates surprises). 

🗣️: If you wear lipgloss or colored lipstick, Mr. Chopped gets really embarrassed since the marks of your lips are pretty much stuck on his face until either you or Mr. Silvair wipe them off of him (which neither of you will do unless he starts whining about it – you both find his reaction to be entertaining and/or cute). He prefers it when you wear lipstick more than lipgloss, though, since the gloss can be pretty sticky and somewhat uncomfortable on his skin. Mr. Chopped notices that, whenever he does have the mark of your lips on his face, he doesn’t get kidnapped nearly as frequently as he used to… did you know about this, or do you just do it to make him blush? 

[meleeyz]

୭ 𝗔𝗨𝗡𝗧 𝗣𝗢𝗪𝗗𝗘𝗥 ˚. ᵎᵎ 

ekko 𝒙 fem!reader

୨୧ English is not my first language, so I regret in advance if something reads weird or is misspelled

୨୧ God, Wyeth and Violet are my precious babies, I'm excited to write the next chapter 😼 THIS IS A BIT OF ANGST BUT I PROMISE I WILL MAKE UP FOR IT, THE NEXT CHAPTER COMES OUT TOMORROW 😓

୨୧ THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT, IT MEANS A LOT TO ME

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

Ekko stepped out of The Last Drop alongside you, his mind a tangled mess of emotions he didn’t know how to untangle.

“See you tomorrow, Silco,” you called over your shoulder, waving at the man. “And tell Vander not to forget the balloons this time. It’s Violet’s party, after all!”

Silco chuckled, his sharp features softened by a surprising warmth.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t disappoint. Powder would never let me hear the end of it.”

Ekko opened his mouth to comment on the absurdity of those words—Silco and birthday parties didn’t belong in the same sentence—but before he could speak, you grabbed Wyeth’s hand, ready to lead him down the street, and before Ekko could even process what he’d just witnessed, his son slipped his small fingers into his free hand.

“Let’s go, Dad!” Wyeth said with a grin, swinging their joined hands as they walked.

The simple gesture made Ekko’s chest tighten. It felt so normal. So… good. And yet, it brought a pang of sadness that he couldn’t shake. How much had he missed? The thought gnawed at him.

Wyeth glanced up, his expression turning sly.

“You think Mom will forget I’m grounded if I say she’s pretty?”

Your laughter drifted back toward them as you approached a street vendor, completely oblivious to your son’s plotting.

Ekko didn’t respond. He barely heard the boy’s words, his mind too busy grappling with the strange reality around him. Wyeth looked so grown, his bright smile and curious eyes a reminder of everything Ekko had never gotten to see. He’d been there for Wyeth’s first steps, first words, first everything… hadn’t he?

“Dad?”

Wyeth’s voice snapped Ekko out of his thoughts. The boy tilted his head again, mirroring the gesture that so often punctuated your own confusion.

“Why’re you looking at me like that? I didn’t even do anything yet.”

A sheepish laugh escaped Ekko.

“Nothing, kiddo. Just thinking.”

Wyeth raised a brow, unimpressed by the weak excuse, but before he could press further, his attention shifted.

“Mom! Aunt Powder’s place is up there!” he shouted.

Ekko followed his gaze, his stomach tightening at the sight of the towering structure ahead. The entrance was unmistakably Powder’s handiwork—vivid, colorful, and chaotically creative.

Your arm slipped through Ekko’s as you stepped closer to him, your head resting lightly against his shoulder. The gesture was effortless, familiar, and it sent an odd pang through him. It wasn’t just something you would’ve done in his world—it was something you had done countless times before.

Powder’s hideout loomed closer, and the knot in Ekko’s stomach tightened. Memories of his childhood flooded his mind—Powder laughing as she tinkered with one of her bombs, her face lighting up when she succeeded. But those memories felt so far away, belonging to someone who no longer existed.

“Aunt Powder!” Wyeth called, his voice echoing through the space as he dashed ahead.

Powder sat on the floor, her back turned to them. She was hunched over something, her shoulders swaying slightly. Ekko froze in the doorway, his feet unwilling to take another step.

She turned slowly, and Ekko’s breath caught. In her arms was a baby.

The child couldn’t have been older than a year, her curly white hair catching the light. Her skin was a shade darker than Wyeth’s, but her eyes—Ekko’s heart skipped a beat—her eyes were undeniably yours.

He stared, dumbfounded. It was as if the Ekko of this world had decided to create smaller versions of himself just for the hell of it.

“Powder!” You hurried past Ekko, reaching for the baby. Powder smiled and handed her over without hesitation.

“There’s my little Violet,” you cooed, lifting the baby into the air before kissing her cheek. Violet giggled, her chubby hands patting your face with affection.

Ekko barely registered the interaction, his focus drawn to a small shrine tucked away in the corner of the room. It was simple but striking—candles flickered in a soft circle of light, surrounding scattered trinkets and flowers.

His stomach dropped when he saw the pictures.

Vi’s pictures.

There was no mistaking her sharp features, her trademark smirk immortalized. The realization hit Ekko like a freight train.

He hadn’t expected this, hadn’t thought a world so perfect could still hold such grief. The weight of it settled on him, twisting his heart in ways he couldn’t describe.

“Dad?” Wyeth’s small voice pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts. The boy’s wide eyes were filled with concern as he tugged on Ekko’s sleeve. “What’s wrong?”

You turned at the question, your gaze sharpening when you saw Ekko’s expression.

“Wyeth, why don’t you go play for a bit?” you said gently, brushing a hand over his hair.

The boy frowned.

“But I—”

“Please,” you said, your tone soft but firm.

Wyeth hesitated, then sighed dramatically before go.

Ekko's breath coming shallow as he struggled to make sense of what he was seeing. Little Violet, with her bright eyes and curly white hair, cooed in your arms as you rocked her gently. You gave Ekko a pointed look and gestured to the spot beside you on the worn couch. Ekko moved mechanically, lowering himself onto the worn cushion, his legs feeling like lead.

His voice broke the silence, hoarse and uncertain.

“She’s... dead?”

Powder, seated besides from him, shifted uncomfortably, her face tightening.

“That’s not funny, Ekko.”

He turned to her sharply, his old friend—his childhood companion—now a stranger and yet not. His voice dropped, heavy with accusation.

“Was it you?”

Your head snapped up, your expression a mix of surprise and frustration.

“Ekko!”

Powder’s eyes darkened and her voice rising.

“It was you,” she spat. “You gave the tip. We went to that job because of you.”

The air in the room grew heavy as Powder’s words sank in. Ekko’s breath caught in his throat. His memories of another life swirled with the knowledge that here, in this version of the world, everything was twisted. His hands trembled as realization hit him. The raid on Jayce’s workshop... That was where Vi—this Violet—died. That was why there was no Hextech here, why this world felt so fragmented.

“I think you should go before I say something I’ll regret,” Powder said quietly, her voice trembling with barely restrained anger.

Ekko stood, the sudden movement making Violet stir in your arms. He didn’t look at you, Powder, or the baby. His body moved automatically, his legs carrying him toward the door.

“I’m working on it,” he mumbled, though the words felt hollow even to him.

You called after him, your voice sharp with concern, but he kept walking.

“Dad?” Wyeth’s voice called out from nearby, concern lacing his tone. Ekko didn’t respond, his thoughts too tangled and chaotic to register anything else.

You watched Ekko leave, your jaw tightening in frustration. The strange behavior, the short temper—it was too much. You handed Violet to Powder, murmuring softly.

“Hold her for a second, please.”

Powder’s expression softened slightly as she took the baby, hugging her carefully though her gaze lingered on you in concern. You followed him out.

“Ekko!” you called sharply. He didn’t turn, but you grabbed his wrist, forcing him to stop and face you. His expression was tense, his eyes darting everywhere but to you.

“What the hell is going on with you?” you demanded, your tone low but fiery. “You’ve been acting weird all day. You know what tomorrow is—it’s our daughter’s birthday. You’re not going to ruin this over something stupid.”

That word—daughter—caught him off guard, sparking the storm of confusion inside him all over again. His mind rebelled against the warmth in your voice, the certainty in your words. How could you say it so easily, so naturally, as if everything about this world made sense?

He shook his head, his voice rising in frustration.

“I’m not ruining anything. I just—”

You didn’t let him finish.

“Powder didn’t do anything to you. If you’re tired, fine, but you owe her an apology. She doesn’t deserve this.”

Ekko swallowed hard, his throat dry. The words escaped before he could stop them.

“I’m not even sure those are really my children!”

The moment the sentence left his lips, he froze.

The look on your face was enough to make him wish he could disappear. Anger flashed in your eyes, but beneath it, he saw the hurt—the disbelief. He didn’t mean it like that.

God, he didn’t mean it.

“What did you just say?”

“I—” he stammered, the words tangled in his throat. “I didn’t... that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean, Ekko?” you demanded, your voice tight with controlled fury.

He wanted to tell you the truth. That he wasn’t your Ekko, that the children weren’t technically his, that he didn’t even belong in this world. But he couldn’t. The words wouldn’t come, and the weight of what he couldn’t say crushed him.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his shoulders slumping. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

You stared at him for a long moment, your jaw tightening as your anger simmered. Finally, you took a deep breath and stepped back.

“Go for a walk and cool off.”

Before he could respond, you turned and walked back toward Powder’s hideout.

Ekko stood there for a long moment, staring at the spot where you had disappeared. The weight of everything—this world, its expectations, the people who had unknowingly tied themselves to him—pressed down on him, suffocating and inescapable.

He ran a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath.

“Great job, idiot,” he muttered bitterly to himself.

The streets around him blurred, the laughter and light of this version of Zaun clashing against the turmoil in his mind. He felt like a stranger in his own life, and no amount of sunshine or clean air could change that.

But as he stood there alone, one thought refused to leave him:

He just hurt the people who mattered most in this world.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

You re-enter the cave with silent steps, the cool air brushing against your skin as you wrap your arms around yourself. Your chest feels tight, the pain blooming there sharper than any gunshot wound. You bite down hard on the urge to cry, swallowing it like bitter medicine.

When you reach Vi's sanctuary, Powder is holding Violet in her arms. She turns to look at you, and whatever she sees in your face makes her pause. Her expression softens, though it doesn’t lose the edge of mischief. She lets out an exaggerated sigh, the kind meant to ease tension and distract.

"Well, look who’s back," she says, forcing a smile that stretches a little too wide. “Guess what, Mama? Aunt Powder got new crayons!” Her voice takes on a sing-song lilt, as if a few minutes ago her old friend hadn’t accused her of being the cause of her own sister death.

Before you can say anything, Wyeth is at her side in an instant, his excitement bubbling over. Powder laughs and hand him the crayons, vibrant sticks of color in every hue.

“Take your little sister and draw something pretty. Something cool for Aunt Pow-pow.” she says with a wink.

Wyeth nods eagerly, leaning in to kiss Violet on the head. He scoops her up with the care of a child trying to prove just how grown-up he is and carries her to the makeshift tent Powder had set up—a cozy hideout of blankets, pillows, and soft light. Violet’s soft babbling carries over as Wyeth settles her down, and began instructing Violet on how they’d make the “best drawing ever.”

Powder straightens, brushing imaginary dust off, and finally looks at you fully. Her smile falters just a little.

“Alright,” she says, “spill. What’s up with your husband?”

You shake your head, frustration and confusion vying for dominance.

“I don’t know,” you admit, your voice strained. “He was fine this morning, and now… now, I don’t even know who I was talking to back there.”

Powder watches you closely, her blue eyes narrowing slightly before she lets out a small sigh.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said to him...”

You wave her off, sinking onto the small couch and resting your face in your hand.

“You’re not the one who should be apologizing.” Your voice is muffled, tired.

Silence settles between the two of you, heavy but not suffocating, just long enough for the tension to ebb. Powder leans back, her usual energy subdued but still present in the way her hands fidget with the edge of her shirt. Then, without a word, she drops something into your lap.

You look down and pick it up—a sketch, delicate lines drawn with an artist’s touch. It’s a design for a baby dress. The fabric in the sketch flows softly, a pastel green shade that feels gentle and light. Little embroidered fireflies dot the hem, their wings detailed with tiny lines of imagined thread. Flowers bloom along the neckline, subtle and sweet, and the sleeves are puffed ever so slightly, adding a playful charm. The waist is cinched with a sash, and a small bow ties neatly in the back, making it utterly perfect for a little one’s birthday.

You trace the design with your fingertips, your heart softening despite the ache still lingering. Ekko was just upset, you think. He didn’t really believe that those babies weren’t his, did he? Hell, they’re his spitting image. Violet has his nose, his hair, his everything, down to the small furrow of concentration she gets when she’s focused.

Powder’s voice breaks through your thoughts.

“What do you think?” she asks, her tone light.

You glance up at her with a faint smile.

“It’s beautiful,” you say, the words more heartfelt than you expect.

Powder waves it off like it’s nothing.

“Please,” she says, smirking. “That’s nothing. I’ve got like eight more gifts saved up for the princess.”

You laugh despite yourself, the sound breaking through some of the tension still clinging to you. Powder grins back, the energy in her expression more genuine now.

For a moment, the pain in your chest feels just a little easier to bear.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

tags: @xelzaria @honeyfewr @bubblegupyy @iwasholic @chaeisbroke @emforjin @itszazouu @kriss-w @moonlight-dreamer04 @iloveavatar

[obsessedwithceleste]

Fighting Fate (It’s a losing battle)

Theodore Nott x gn!reader

Inspired by, and dedicated to @musingsofahufflepuff

Summary: soulmate!au in which everyone sees in black and white until they meet their soulmate. Bold of fate to assume it can tell you what to do.

word count: 3.1k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

Ever since your first day at Hogwarts, you’d been told that you were lucky. A one in a million chance. Exceptional. Because as soon as you’d been sorted, and the sorting hat had been lifted up off of your head, your eyes had met his, and the world had burst into color.

It had been wildly disorientating at first- you almost fainted from the visual overload as the banners over each section of students burst into bright color. As you went to take your seat, you got strange looks from several students, but you never felt his eyes leave you.

You’d always thought it was rubbish. Even at the ripe old age of eleven. Your mother had first explained the idea of soulmates to you as a bedtime story. You remember her explaining how everything looked bland and colorless now because you hadn’t met your soulmate yet. But once you did, the world would come to life.

“When will I meet my soulmate?” You’d asked.

“Well, that’s the catch isn’t it? It’s different for everyone. Some meet their soulmate very young. At school even. But some, some will never meet their soulmate. They can be anywhere in the world, fate doesn’t discriminate.”

You’d scrunched your little nose up in distaste.

“That’s stupid. Why do I have to listen to fate?”

Your mother had only laughed, tucking you in and kissing your forehead goodnight. But the sentiment had remained as you grew up. How could someone really just be meant for you? Ridiculous.

Theo had known that you were going to be his soulmate before fate did. He’d watched silently from his seat on the train as you boarded, a nervous grin on your face as you waved goodbye to your family. You were perfect, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. At least until Mattheo swatted his arm.

“What’re you staring at, mate?” He’d asked loudly, gaining the attention of the other boys in the carriage.

“See them, there?” Theo asked, pointing to where you were boarding. “That’s going to be my soulmate.” He’d announced proudly.

“Yeah, okay mate,” the other boys had laughed, quickly moving on to the next topic.

But Theo didn’t take his eyes off of you until you disappeared through the train doors and off into some unknown compartment.

The next time he saw you was at the sorting ceremony. He watched as you confidently made your way up to the front, the smile never leaving your face as McGonagall lowered the hat onto your head. It only took a few moments of deliberation before the hat was being lifted off of your head and Theo’s eyes met yours.

It was like the wind was taken out of him as the room sprung to life, colors swirling around his vision as his eyes raced around the room in awe.

By the end of the night, all of Theo’s friends had been sorted into Slytherin with him. Mattheo, Enzo, Draco, Blaise. Even Crabbe and Goyle.

“I was right on the train. About them being my soulmate,” he’d announced proudly, pointing out different objects and describing the different colors to his friends who wondered in amazement.

You on the other hand, didn’t speak a word of it to anyone until you accidentally let it slip to your mother over break that you could see the pretty colored ornaments strung up on the tree.

She’d been thrilled of course, wanting to know every detail about this soulmate of yours. What did he look like? What house was he? Had the two of you spoken.

You answered each question with less enthusiasm than the one prior, and eventually she got the point and stopped asking.

As soon as the news slipped that Theodore Nott, a child of the sacred twenty-eight, and son of Tiberius Nott no less, could see in color however, it didn’t take long for people to start noticing you. Telling you how lucky you were to have found your soulmate. To be able to see color. As if you wanted a soulmate at eleven years old.

The first few years it was easy to avoid. Being only eleven or twelve, Theo was content admiring you from a far. Third year was when the boy finally got the courage to really try and talk to you for the first time. Sure he’d said hi a few times over the past couple years, but nothing you’d found particularly note worthy. Especially not for someone who was supposedly your soulmate.

“Are you any good at charms?” A voice asks, startling you as you look up from the essay you had been finishing up in the court yard. It was a warm, cloudy day, with only a light breeze, so you’d thought it would be the perfect day to take your studies outside.

You stare up in surprise at the brunette boy in front of you, watching silently as he takes a seat across from you.

In the past, you'd played the avoiding game, quickly scurrying off if you saw the boy or his friends approaching. This year, you hadn't been taking the same precautions, and it seemed Theodore was taking full advantage.

“I’m alright,” you reply hesitantly.

That was a lie. Charms was your best subject, but you were hoping the boy might go away. He didn’t.

"I know that you're top of the class," he responds, staring intently at you with a sly smirk.

That afternoon you begrudgingly helped Theodore with his charms homework, and he happily helped you with your DADA essay. There wasn’t a whole lot of interaction between the two of you, but he wasn’t horrible you supposed. At least he had brain cells to rub together.

After that he kept popping up sporadically throughout your third year.

At quidditch tryouts he'd insisted on partnering with you for several of the drills. You both were offered a place on the team. In the Great Hall he'd seek you out to ask about the homework assignment he'd missed after skiving off of class with Mattheo. The fact that you gave him your notes each time meant nothing. Obviously. And every so often, between the shelves of books in the library, you'd see a flash of soft brown hair, and intense eyes gazing at you before they disappeared as if you were imagining it.

With each increasing encounter, the both of you made idle conversation as you kept the boy at an arms length. It was nothing personal really. In fact the more you thought about it, he seemed perfectly alright. But something in your stubborn thirteen year old self just wanted to stick it to fate. So you continued to ice the boy out.

Theodore however, was nothing if not determined. He knew from the moment he saw you that he was meant to be yours, and he’d be damned if he let you slip through his fingers. Thirteen year old Theodore was a stubborn bastard and he knew he was willing to play the long game.

Things grew a bit more complicated in fourth year when you became friends with some of the Slytherin crowd.

It had been an accident really. You’d been reading down by the Black Lake when Daphne Greengrass had stumbled upon you, followed closely by Pansy Parkinson and Lorenzo Berkshire.

“Oh!” she’d said in delight, seeing the book in your hands, “I love that book!”

The two of you ended up talking enthusiastically about the novel for almost an entire hour with Pansy and Enzo butting in every so often to add their thoughts.

“Wait, you’re Theodore’s soulmate aren’t you?” Enzo asks, eventually recognizing you.

You eye the boy cautiously as you nod slowly, suddenly feeling self conscious.

Pansy just wrinkles her nose.

“Sorry you got stuck with such a tosser.” She says.

The four of you are quiet for a moment before your laughter breaks the silence, the other three following shortly after.

After that, you’re integrated into their little group seamlessly. You’d always been a bit of a loner. Sure people would wander up to you often enough to chatter about what it was like to see colors, but that was really all people wanted to know about you. Like it was some trivial party trick.

It was nice having your own friends to study with and wander about Hogsmeade with on the weekends. It was nice to have people who liked being around you simply for being you. Not because some magical force had decided to bind you to a whole other human and grant you the ability to see color.

It didn’t take long for Theo to notice you hanging about more frequently. How could he not? You were so pretty. So smart and witty. So perfect. He was just so happy to have you around more often. Even if it wasn’t to spend time with him specifically.

He reveled in any little morsel of information that he could scrape up from your friends. Your favorite color, your favorite sweets at Honeydukes, your class schedule. Theo was willing to admit the last one was a bit weird, but he was really just hungry to learn anything he could about his elusive soulmate.

Soon enough, it didn’t become unusual for Theodore and Mattheo to join the four of you on your little excursions. Popping up at the Black Lake, or meeting up with you at the Three Broomsticks. He was just always there. As if he was making a point of it. And begrudgingly you began to let him in.

A friend of your friends was okay you thought. Wouldn’t hurt to get to know him a bit. That wasn’t crossing any lines.

For Theo however, this was huge. He was finally getting somewhere. Even if you weren’t ready for any sort of romantic relationship, he was going to be the best damn friend you’d ever had.

By fifth year, there was simply no denying it. Theodore Nott was your best friend. You weren’t really sure how it had happened. The two of you just fit so well together. He had truly wormed his way into your life.

It had started with the study sessions.

"Remember when you helped me with charms in third year?" He'd asked. "I got top marks on that assignment."

As those became more frequent, it had turned into afternoons by the lake with both of you deep in your own novels, but sharing the comfortable silence.

Then it had morphed into weekends at Hogsmeade. Your friends thought they were being subtle when they consistently slipped away, leaving you and Theo to wander about the village. You couldn't find it in yourself to mind though.

You’d tried to keep him at an arms length. You really had. But Enzo couldn’t make you laugh as hard as you did with Theo. And Daphne just wasn’t the intellectual match that Theo was. And Pansy always made sure you let loose sure, but being around Theo was just- freeing.

You still weren’t sold on the whole soulmate thing though. Sure Theo was great. Perfect even. But you just couldn’t shake the icky feeling of blindly trusting fate to decide your life.

Then it happened. No one was expecting it. Especially not Pansy. But you and Pansy and Draco and Theo had all been working late on a potions assignment before dinner, and on your way back up from the dungeons, Pansy ran smack into a certain platinum haired Ravenclaw. You’d later find out that her name was Luna Lovegood. As soon as their eyes met, Pansy stumbled, leaning into you for support. You already knew what was happening as her eyes darted around wildly.

“Oh. I suppose we’re soulmates then aren’t we?” The girl said, a dreamy look overtaking her.

It all seemed too easy for them after that. It was like a flip had switched and the two were just mad for each other. A picture perfect example of what soulmates should be.

You found it to be slightly horrifying how blindly trusting fate could severely change a person and their relationship with an essential stranger.

Theo however, couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy. He had what? Almost five whole years on Pansy, and was lucky to get a friendly hug out of his soulmate. Yet Pansy and Luna were inseparable after only a few short weeks.

Not that Theo thought he was entitled to your affection necessarily. But it would be nice if you’d at least acknowledge the bond you two shared he thought.

“Why don’t you believe in soulmates?” Daphne asks one night.

It was one of those rare nights where it was only you, Daphne, Pansy, and Enzo huddled together wrapped in thick, warm blankets inside Daphne and Pansy’s dorm room. Salazar knows where Millicent was off spending her night. A bottle of shared fire whisky sat between you and packs of chocolate frogs littered the floor.

You blink in surprise at your friend’s question. You didn’t talk about soulmate stuff much.

“I do believe in them,” you say with a simple shrug.

“Yeah but you don’t really believe in them, ya know? Why?” She pushes.

You pause again, glancing at Pansy who was looking back at you intently.

“I don’t know. I guess I just don’t like the idea of someone deciding to be with me, just because they’re supposed to.” You say finally.

“I suppose I know what you mean.” Pansy murmurs after a moment.

You look at the girl in surprise and can tell the other two are shocked as well.

“Don’t get me wrong. I adore Luna. Really. I always tell her that I’m so glad that fate put us together. But then sometimes I wonder. If it weren’t for fate, would I have even given her a second glance that day I bumped into her in the corridor?”

There’s a silent lull as your group mulls over Pansy’s words before slowly drifting off to a new topic.

In another dorm, not so far off, Theo lay on his bed staring blankly up at the ceiling.

“Think they’ll come around soon?” Mattheo asks, sensing his roommate’s building tension.

“I dunno. But I’ll wait,” he replies, closing his eyes and letting images of you flood his mind. “They’re worth it.”

That night as you’re leaving to return to your dorm, Enzo catches your arm, pulling you off to the side.

“You can never tell Theo that I told you this, but the first time I met Theo, we were on the train waiting to leave for Hogwarts and he pointed out the window to a someone and said ‘they’re going to be my soulmate’. Then, at the sorting ceremony he got all dizzy all the sudden, and when we got to the common room, he said that he’d been right about who his soulmate would be. You. Just thought you should know.”

And with that, he’s gone.

It’s after that that you really begin to see Theo. You’d never really given him a fighting chance. But now, you kind of wanted to.

It’s the beginning of sixth year when Theo finally notices the shift. Notices you actually seeking him out on purpose, not flinching away when your hands brush, eyes hovering on his lips a bit too long for it to be accidental. And to say that he is ecstatic.

Meanwhile you were silently kicking yourself for taking so long to get over your petty bullshit with fate. Sure you still didn’t love the idea of it all, but after spending enough time with Theo, you could really, truly see the appeal.

After that night in fifth year, you began noticing how Theodore was one of the only students who could keep up with your academic prowess. He could always sense when you were tired, or stressed, or simply in a mood, and always did his best to subtly cheer you up. He was always there. Even after all the years you had put him through the wringer, he remained by your side. And that’s what really convinced you.

It’s also what landed you here, at the top of the astronomy tower, with your head in Theodore’s lap as his fingers raked gently through your hair.

It had become a usual meeting spot for the both of you. Theo had brought you up here a week into the school year starting. It was his safe place. His getaway when everything got to be too much, or when he just needed space to think. When those words had left his mouth you had melted. He trusted you. You had meant so much to him for so long, and you couldn't be bothered to give him the time of day.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, eyes gazing out at the swirling navy sky that seemed to stretch on forever.

“For what, amore?”

“Dunno. Making you feel like you weren’t good enough, or makin you feel like a bad soulmate.”

Theo looks down at you, and you meet his steady gaze.

“I knew I was good enough, amore. We wouldn’t be soulmates if we weren’t perfect for each other.” He replies.

You perk up at this. “You think I’m perfect?” You ask, a dopey smile appearing on your face.

Theo just rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he laughs. He'd grown used to your antics. Just another piece of you that he'd grown fond of.

“I said that we’re perfect together. But you’re perfect too I suppose.”

It hadn’t taken nearly as long as you had expected to reach this point. It seemed that Theo had just been waiting for the word to switch on boyfriend mode. All it took was one spontaneous, heated make out session in his dorm room, and you had the boy wrapped around your finger. (He already had been for years, but you didn’t need to know that.)

“Alright. Wrap it up love birds. You better be fully clothed,” Pansy calls, head peeping up from the top of the staircase leading up to the tower. “You two have been up here for hours, and you can’t have them all to yourself Theodore. They were our friend first.”

“Yeah! Time’s up lover boy!” You hear Enzo call.

Theo groans, head falling back as he rises lazily, offering you a hand up.

“I waited five years for this, can’t you guys let me have my moment?” He calls back.

“No!” The chorus replies.

With a laugh, you grab onto Theo’s hand, tugging him towards the stairs.

“C’mon. If we get Mattheo and Enzo drunk enough, they won’t notice if I spend the night,” you say with a cheeky wink.

“I heard that!” Enzo’s voice rings out.

“You wouldn’t say no to me anyway,” you shout back.

With a smile, Theo follows you down the stairs after your rowdy friends, hand wrapped tightly around yours. It had taken him five long years, and he certainly wasn’t going to let go anytime soon.

I'm a sucker for soulmate aus

[huaiian]

Imagine Being Loved By Me (Sylus x Fem!Reader)

Summary:

“I’ll relent. Give my kitten a few hours to…play with her toy. To do as she pleases.”

In short, it’s the MC/Reader’s birthday and Sylus let’s her have her way with him.

Pairing: Sylus x Fem!Reader or MC

Rating: Explicit, 18+ ONLY

Words: 4.6 K

AO3 Link Here

Tags: Light Dom/Sub, Dom!MC or Dom!Reader, Sub!Sylus, Bondage, Cumming (kinda) Untouched, Overstimulation, Porn but there's a thread of a plot

Author's Note: Hope you all enjoy! I haven't really written anything like this in a LOOOONG time so if it's not great I apologize. This is basically just me going hmm, what if you tied him up and made him cry. And well uhh….idk this happened. If you aren't into Submissive Sylus then I'm sorry, you'll probably want to skip out on this one ╥﹏╥

You awoke to rays of sun gently fanning across your face. Your nose scrunched up and you stretched your hands above your head, groaning slightly as your joints began to pop. You felt arms wrap around your waist and you smiled slightly, eyes opening slightly, glancing to the side.

“Someone’s up bright and early,” Sylus sighs, arms bringing you closer to him. His head moves to the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath and giving you a gentle kiss on your pulse point. Your smile widens, cradling the back of his head and guiding him upwards. You share a small peck before pulling back, adoration clear in your gaze.

“Happy birthday, my love,” he whispers into the morning air. You kiss him again as he envelopes you in his embrace.

The day progresses as any other day would, aside from the fact that it’s your birthday and Sylus will stop at nothing to shower you with gifts and attention. Did you mention a beautiful Tiffany & Co. necklace you wanted? He got you the entire collection. You said you wanted a new purse right? He took it upon himself to get you every Birkin he could find in person. It was all too much for you, having a more reserved and shy personality usually, but it’s your birthday so why not live a little.

Sylus led you from place to place, joining you in all of your favorite hobbies before surprising you at the end of the night with your closest friends and coworkers at the local karaoke bar. Sylus had to use his pseudonym, Skye, just as he did when you had coincidentally met him in a similar circumstance. Only this time, instead of trying to distance yourself from him the entire night, you were doing your best not to drag him towards you and kiss him until you saw stars.

“Sweetie,” he whispered in your ear, a shiver running up your spine, “you still have one more gift that you’ll need to open.”

“Oh?” You questioned, your eyebrow raising ever so slightly. “And what might that gift be? Don’t tell me you bought me an entire island or something ridiculous.”

Sylus was silent for a beat, causing you to straighten and whirl around, eyes wide and mouth agape at the implication. He chuckles while shaking his head, eyes scrunching up at the corners. “No my dear, though it can be arranged. All you need to do is ask,”

“NO, no I’m definitely happy and definitely don’t need you to spend anything more than you already have,” you stammer, a light blush coloring your cheeks. His laughter dies down and he smirks, leaning forward so his mouth is up against your ear.

“No love, this gift won’t cost me a thing,” his breath fanning out across your ear. Almost as if he could hear your confusion, he clarifies for you.

“I’ll relent. Give my kitten a few hours to…play with her toy. To do as she pleases.”

You could feel warmth rush through you in that moment, understanding the implication of his words. You never believed in the phrase ‘butterflies in your stomach’ until now, feeling the strange sensation combined with your heart stuttering in your chest, you could tell that it was going to be a long night.

After Sylus’ slight teasing, you slowly begin to exit the karaoke bar, hugging friends and catching up with some old co-workers here and there before finally making a subtle departure. You didn’t want to ruin the party for everyone else, but you also had a present waiting at home that had been plaguing your mind for hours now. You snatched Sylus’ hand and started dragging him over to his motorcycle, the man squeezing your hand gently. 

“I see someone’s anticipation is slowly getting the best of her,” he teased. The motorcycle came into view, which only made you take larger strides.

“If I had known how much you’d enjoy this gift, I would’ve departed a long time ago-” his voice was cut off by you suddenly swinging him forward, leaning him against the bike before cupping his cheeks. His eyes widened before you brought his face forward, your lips colliding in an aggressive kiss, showcasing your pent up frustration. He hummed into the kiss before his hands came to rest on your hips. 

As the kiss deepened, his hands snake towards your ass, that is until you swatted them away. You broke the kiss to find an adorably confused expression on his face. You lean forward, slightly on your tiptoes to try to make eye contact.

“I’m sorry, I thought the birthday girl was going to call the shots. Isn’t that right?” You questioned him with a smug demeanor. His eyes darkened before nodding. You grabbed his chin and pulled him in for another kiss, where it was obvious that you were in complete control. He could feel the smile on your face before pulling back again.

“That’s my good boy.”

He groans, eyes closing again before you bring him back into a possessive kiss. You wanted to muffle any sounds he might make in case anyone had the audacity of hearing him in this state; a state only you were allowed to see. You broke apart from him again, his eyes opening again and looking towards you for further direction.

“Let’s get you home baby, I’ll take care of you,” you softly tell him, hand cupping his face and thumb gently wiping just before his eye. He nods mindlessly at you before whispering “yes ma’am.” He climbs atop of the motorcycle as you follow close behind. Before you realize it, Sylus is weaving in and out of traffic at speeds you knew were nowhere near safe. Could it be due to your hand squeezing his inner thigh, your chest pressed against his back ever so tightly. 

When you arrive at home, you notice that the twins and Mephisto aren’t there to welcome you home. You sigh slightly out of exasperation, taking Sylus’ hand once more before leading him inside the house. The darkness and silence is all encompassing, all that can be heard in yours and Sylus’ breaths desperately trying to calm yourselves of your racing heartbeats.

As you move through the house, you finally locate the bedroom door, noticing that candles had been lit, illuminating the room in a gentle glow. 

“I’ll have to give the boys their thanks later,” you state, giggling slightly to yourself at the turn of events.

Sylus frowns slightly before squeezing your hand harder to indicate his irritation at the mention of the twins. You laugh openly now, ushering Sylus to sit on the bed.

“It seems that someone’s a jealous little toy huh,” you speak, an authoritative tone engulfing your words in a new weight. Sylus scoffs, crossing his arms and turning his head to the side.

“As though you wouldn’t be upset with me if I starting bringing up other women in the bedroom,” 

“What other women Sylus,” you speak up, your hands grabbing his wrists and unfolding his arms. You widen your stance and take a seat on his lap, your index finger and thumb grasping his chin to force him to look you in the eye. He looks at you with a slight scowl on his face, but his widening pupils and growing bulge in his pants tells you that the expression is just for show.

“Enlighten me,” you tease, leaning forward so your lips ghost his ever so slightly, “what other women are you talking to?” The question falls upon deaf ears as your hand moves from his chin to his hair, curling around some strands before gripping tightly, tugging his head backwards. Sylus gasps sharply as you feel his cock twitch below you. You move your head swiftly to his neck, kissing up his neck before reaching his jawline just below his ear. You start sucking sharply, nipping at the skin to ensure that a mark appears in your wake. 

He moans low, his hands fisting the sheets below him. His head falls to the side, allowing you greater access to his neck. You let go of the sensitive skin, but you don’t move away. Your breaths dampening the skin below you before you ask again, “Answer me Sylus: What other women are you talking to?” 

“No one,” he states, sounding out of breath and ragged before groaning again as you bite his neck with pressure just enough to leave a mark. You release his neck before licking a stripe upwards, whispering in his ear, “that’s a good boy,” before softly biting his ear lobe.

Sylus’ hips buck upwards, searching for any kind of friction. You let out a ‘hmph’ before grinding down harshly, forcing a muttered ‘oh fuck’ out of his mouth. 

“Now that won’t do,” you state, slowly getting up from his lap. He opens his eyes slowly, half lidded. His eyes watch you as you move your way towards the dresser, his breath stuttering as he sees you grab rope you both are all too familiar with. He kicks off his shoes and climbs onto the bed, positioning himself on his knees with his hands behind his back. 

“How obedient,” you observe as he sits, awaiting for your instruction, “but we won’t be in this position today.” He quirks an eyebrow up at you, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. You smirk as well, knowing that the poor bastard had no idea what he had signed up for when offering his last present to you.

You kick off your heels and crawl in front of him on your knees. His chest starts rising and falling more noticeably and he tries to calm his breathing. You start undressing him, giving gentle instructions as needed. He obeyed without any resistance and as you were slowly peeling off his last layer, cock springing upwards and onto his stomach, you heard a quiet moan leave him. 

You remove the boxers and throw them to the side, attention stuck on the pretty pink length twitching slightly at your gaze. You lean forward, licking a fat stripe on the underside of his cock, reveling in the way his breath stutters and his thighs shake. You give a quick suck to the head before pulling back, raising your head upwards to make eye contact with the man.

“Sweetie please,” he whispers, hand reaching forward to grab your waist. You quickly took his wrist and put your other hand on the middle of his check slowly pushing him backwards on the bed, pinning his hands above his head, straddling his hips. You could feel his cock underneath you through your jeans, moving your hips in a subtle circular motion. You hear him whimpering faintly, and you squeeze his wrists before letting them go. His wrists stay above his head, his gaze pleading with you to let him feel you in his rough grasp.

You grab the forgotten rope at your side before cupping his cheek, bringing him into a tender kiss. Sylus attempted to deepen the kiss, but you smiled and pulled away. 

“Spread out baby,” you say to him, unraveling the rope. He rolls his eyes and spreads out, his hands and feet pointing towards their respective corners.

“You know, when I offered up this as a present, I wasn’t expecting…” he trails off, trying to find the right words, “all of this enthusiasm. I thought you enjoyed begging underneath me,  begging for my co-” 

He was cut off from his bratty tirade by a sharp slap to the inner thigh, causing his hips to buck and the words to die on his tongue.

“I didn’t think I needed to keep that pretty mouth of yours in check,” you say with a bored tone, sighing slightly. You finish up tying the last ankle to the corner of the bed, using a single column tie for his wrists and ankles. As you lean back to acknowledge your handiwork, you can see his arms and legs straining a little, testing out the ropes. Unfortunately for him, the ropes are secure and unless he’s willing to beg, there's no getting out of them now.

You straddle his midriff and he looks up at you with a slight scowl at you tying him down. You cup his cheeks with your hands and kiss him deeply, languidly. You’re able to take your time now and you’re going to savor every second of it. He kisses you back, matching your leisurely pace.

You part the kiss, a string of saliva connecting the two of you. “I have scissors in the left hand drawer,” you mutter, kissing the corner of his mouth. “The safe word is Featherstar. Do I make myself clear?” You look at him sternly, wanting him to take this seriously. He nods his head and attempts to lean forward to kiss you once more. You click your tongue at him, moving away. 

“I’m gonna need you to use your words my love,” you tell him in a hushed tone. He pouts at you but nods again, replying with a simple “Yes ma’am, I understand.”

“Thank you sweetie,” you whisper in his ear, causing him to shiver. You start kissing down his neck, leading the middle of his chest. You start sucking and biting different areas on his chest, knowing that the man would start unraveling at the seams. Sure enough, he was humming and groaning at the attention his chest was receiving.

You moved towards his nipple, dragging your tongue across the sensitive bud. You felt it perk up and start to harden as you swirled your tongue around it in small circles.

“Oh sweetie, fuck,” he sighs, his arms straining against the ropes. He lets out an annoyed huff followed by a low pitched groan and you start to suck on the raised bud. You continue sucking and your other hand caresses his side, trailing your fingers upwards until they reach his other nipple. You tweak the unoccupied nipple in between your fingers, pinching and rubbing it in small circles similar to your tongues movements before swapping the two. Your mouth comes and replaces your hand while your other hand comes up to caress his pec. 

Sylus moans and twitches underneath you, becoming more and more agitated by his inability to touch you. “Baby, when will you release me? This is getting a bit boring, don’t you think?” He tries his best to keep his voice from wavering with arousal. 

You look up at him and bite down on his nipple, causing the man to moan and tip his head back on the bed. You release his nipples and kiss your way to the center of his chest again. “Bargaining isn’t going to work my dear, I’m afraid you’re just going to have to get used to this.”

He tries to calm his breathing as you start caressing his body, your fingers applying feather light pressure to him, goosebumps rising on his skin. You venture lower until you’re sitting back, his cock straining against his stomach in a red color that looks somewhat irritated from the lack of attention. 

Your touch delicately brushes against his length, his cock jumping and twitching with every touch. “You’re killin’ me sweetie,” he says, sounding out of breath. You continue the movements, making no effort to apply anymore pressure or stimulation. He whimpers as his dick starts leaking a constant stream of precum, creating a shallow puddle on his stomach. 

“You can come just from this can’t you?” You ask, tilting your head to the side. He shakes his head slightly before flinching as your fingers gather some of the precum, teasing the tip. His thighs flex, trying to plant his feet onto the mattress but to no avail. You giggle at his reaction, playing with the slit before leaning forward, licking the shell of his ear.

“Don’t you want to make me proud? It is my birthday after all,” you purr into his ear, his breathing becoming erratic. You could tell he was close, all he needed was some pushing. You took your free hand and grasped his hair. 

“Don’t you want to be a good boy, make me proud?” You say, tugging his hair so his head would be pulled back. He made a choked off noise and shut his eyes suddenly, whimpering as he came, hot streaks of cum shooting up towards his chest. You could see the veins in his arms protruding from being restricted. You smiled, cooing in his ear praises of how well he was doing. 

Sylus took a few calming breaths before looking at you, his eyes glassy and gaze filled with longing. “Please baby, let me go,” he tries again. You shake your head before getting up, straddling him again. He quirks an eyebrow before you start to undress yourself, shimmying out of your jeans and pulling off your top, only left in a matching underwear set you treated yourself to for your big day. His eyes widened as he gazed upon the maroon lace seemingly painted across your breasts.

His distraction was evident as you started to crawl your way upwards, pussy hovering over his face. Even so, his eyes had not left the lingerie once. It seemed as though he was unaware as to what your next move would be, completely taken aback by your choice of attire to ask any questions. You gripped his hair again to tilt his head backwards so he made eye contact with you. 

“Try to keep up,” you stated, using your other hand to push your panties aside. His mouth drops open, saliva beginning to pool in his mouth. Before he can retort, your thighs spread further apart, sitting yourself on his mouth, nose nudging your clit. You moan out as he tongue begins to work you open, lapping up the wetness with a new refound vigor. You started rutting against his mouth, grinding downward so his nose would grind against your clit at an addicting pace.

“Your tongue-” you groan, removing your hands so you could place them behind you, leaning back against his thighs, “God you’re good at this.” You gripped his upper thighs, feeling the firm muscle underneath your hands quivering. You lifted your hips up and away from his mouth for a moment to let him catch his breath. The smug satisfaction pools in the pit of your stomach as you see his chin glisten, mouth open while he takes a brief reprieve. 

“You better get your ass back over here sweetie-” he starts, impatience in his voice. You roll your eyes at him once more pushing yourself back into his mouth. “I’m gonna need to punish you for speaking out of turn like that, ya know,” you tell him, grinding down harder and harder as he works you open. You gasp as he starts fucking you open with his tongue, moaning at your taste. 

You glance behind you and find not only is he fully erect again, but it seems he’s just as close to release as you. And well, we can’t have that can we?

You could feel yourself getting close, and as rode him harder and faster, you reached for his cock behind you, squeezing just under his head. Sylus whimpers loudly in response, but continues to bring you closer and closer to the edge.

With one last nudge of his nose against your clit, your eyes rolled in the back of your head, body going stiff and you came on his tongue. You could feel him pant against your thigh as he tried to calm himself, hips thrusting upward to try and reach his release as well.

“Love please let me come, please, you tasted so good I wanna come too, please,” he begs, mumbling against the inside of your thigh. You pull back from his mouth as he whimpers in protest. You raise up, letting go of his cock as it falls against his stomach heavily. You take off your bra and panties, looking at him with a devious glint in your eye. 

You grab him by the chin so his mouth would open slightly. “Open up,” you ordered and he reluctantly obeyed. You realized he was going to try to come up with a witty retort, but you knew how to satiate him for the time being. You took your panties coated in your wetness and shoved them in his mouth, gagging him. His eyes rolled in the back of his head and moaned loudly. 

“Don’t worry Sylus, I just wanted to save your stamina,” you tell him, moving backwards so your cunt was hovering over his cock. He shivered and moaned at the feeling of you grinding down on his dick, heavy with want and radiating with heat. You moved your cunt against him, slicking up his dick. You finally lifted up and grabbed the base of his shaft, circling the head around your entrance. He started breathing heavily through his nose, the pressure from his yanking causing the ropes around him making the bed frame creak. 

“Such a patient boy, you’ve been waiting so nicely,” you gasp out as you slowly start to sink down on him. He moans loudly, voice muffled by the panties. You take him inch by inch before sitting fully on him, feeling filled to the brim. All that can be heard are the desperate breaths between the two of you. You place your hands on his abs before raising yourself up, tip almost slipping out. As your hips come down forcefully, you hear a punched out moan escape Sylus, little noises escaping him the more you move, however slight.

You start riding him with new vigor, bouncing up and down on his cock, trying to get him to reach deeper and deeper inside you. His moans are becoming louder and louder, with whimpers escaping him whenever you take a moment to sit and swivel your hips in circular motions. The sounds Sylus begins to make sound more and more frantic, wobbly from desperation.

“It’s ok, cum for me Sylus. Fill me up, I wanna be filled with your cum,” your tone sounding strained and you uncontrollably start moving on his cock, desperate for him. It only takes a few more times bouncing on his cock before you hear a muffled shout, feeling warmth spread through you. You moan out, a high pitched squeal leaving your lips as you cum around his cock, milking him inside of you.

You look over and see his head lolled to the side, saliva dripping out of the side of his mouth around your panties. You lean forward and gently move his face so he looks at you. You cup his cheek and praise him as you gingerly remove the panties from his mouth. He breathes through his mouth deeply, coughing slightly. 

You had planned to be done from here, thinking that you've had enough fun, but you can’t help but think of how far you’ll be able to push the infamous leader of Onychinus. A devious part in you wants to break him, while another part of you wants to give him mercy. 

You decide to be selfish, still craving more and more from him. You squeeze around his cock and he groans out, mumbling a soft “baby, please”. Before long, you start moving in circles again, and Sylus is below you, pleading with tears in his eyes.

“Oh God, oh fuck, I don’t- I don’t know if I- SHIT!” He yells out, tears escaping from the corner of his eyes, head hitting the bed behind him hard as he tries grasping for something, anything to keep him grounded.

“Miss please, please, I can’t I- I need to touch you please please,” he begs, voice coming out shaky as you start lifting yourself up and down on his cock again. You were getting tired and felt as though his punishment had gone on long enough.

“Just your legs-” before you could continue, Sylus’ evol appears out of thin air, slicing the ropes that are connecting his ankles to the corners of the bed. You startle, stopping for a second before yelping, bracing your hands on his chest as he plants his feet into the bed, roughly thrusting up into you. You moan out harshly, sounds punching out of you with every thrust of his hips. 

“You feel so good around me sweetie, so hot…so soft…kiss me,” he babbles. You prop yourself up and surge forward, meeting him in the middle. Your teeth clash and you can feel desperation in the kiss as you both try to ground yourselves with the other. 

“Sylus please…please I need more, I need you to mark me, claim me, I’m all yours,” you whimper. His arms flex and his biceps bulge at the urge to grab you, feel your plush skin against his roughened palms. He whimpers at the realization of the restraints, giving you a pleading look that could send you to your knees.

“Touch me Sylus,” you order. Within an instant, his voice evol slashes the ropes and he’s grabbing you, taking you by the hips and physically lifting you up and down his cock. You scream out in pleasure as you can feel your release approaching swiftly. You can tell by his sloppy movements and frenzied expression that he’s close as well. 

You begin to chant his name over and over, having the words be punched out of you by his thrusts. You feel him hitting you deeper and deeper, fucking his cum back into you over and over again. You grasp the back of his neck and pull him to you, kissing him sloppily. 

As he returns the kiss to you, you break away slightly with a silent scream, hurdling over the edge and feeling nothing but a white static. Your body feels euphoric and, at the sight of your pleasure, Sylus gasps and thrusts up into you with one sharp movement, cumming hard to the point where it bordered on painful. After coming down from your highs, You languidly grab one of the random pieces of clothing you had discarded before to wipe off his chest. 

Before you could get up to get some more cleaning supplies, Sylus holds you captive in his arms as he slowly leans back onto the bed, cradling your head and bringing you to his chest. As your breaths slow and the drowsiness starts to appear, you look up at Sylus.

“Thank you Sylus,” You whisper to him, kissing the center of his chest. He clutches you harder, kissing the top of your head. “I had no idea my love could be so…domineering,” he chuckled as you blushed, hiding your face into his chest. He laughed once more before kissing your head again. 

“I don’t mind it though. We can play around a bit more in the future but,” he stops, contemplating for a moment. You look up at him with hope and mischief in your eyes. He sighs and holds you tighter, mumbling “maybe for special occasions only though. Don’t want my kitten to get too greedy with her toys now.” 

You laugh and hug him closer to you, craving the intimacy of just being close to him. He tugs you upwards and burrows his head into the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath in before he confides, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let you go.”

You giggle a little at his words and kiss his shoulder, “I don’t think I mind that. Not at all.”

_____

Author's Note: HOPE YOU ENJOYED!! If you'd like to see any other stories or continuations of this let me know, I'd be happy to write some more.

[yutasbellybuttonpiercing]

slowly, i'm going down

access full masterlist here!

pairing: song mingi x reader (no pronouns mentioned, reader has female anatomy)

au/genre: college!au, tutor!reader, mingi does not give a shit about studying, smut

word count: 4816 words

warnings: voice kink (AHHHHH), oral and fingering (reader receiving), reader is a little mean, kitchen sex, anime references, cringe, a joke about adhd, dirty talk... um..., oh right Mingi has a big dick (wbk), everyone's a little silly, unprotected sex (boo ‼️👎🏻), premature ejaculation almost, creampie, cum eating... (not reader...), i think that's it. NOT PROOF READ YET!!

synopsis: mingi hates studying, but what he hates way more than that is being perceived as stupid. what mingi loves on the other hand, are pretty people getting flustered about his voice

or

mingi shows you exactly what he hates and loves.

a/n: i was almost ready when i saw this tiktok and it completely blocked my mind because it's SO FUNNY, but at the same time, it's men being dudes, dudes being bros, and that kind of made it hard for me to continue. i apologize for the 24h delay 😞

taglist: @byuntrash101 @goquokka @ashwoodforest @choisansnotsolegalwife

Mingi is not one to sit there and look at books. Or papers. Or anything that doesn't move and feed his brain with bright colors and his ears with noises, really. He prefers to vibe, and studying is definitely not the vibe. Sadly, studying is a part of his life as a university student. Yes, he chose this path for himself and yes, he was aware that it would involve studying. Still, now that it's really happening and is not just an obstacle to overcome in the far, far future, Mingi kind of wishes he'd chosen something else to do with his life. It's just exhausting, why would he waste the precious time he has left on planet earth on something that doesn't get the serotonin floating? He's pretty sure he has some undiagnosed ADHD simmering up there, but who is he to judge that? He's certainly not studying to become a doctor or whatever.

Anyway, given the fact that Mingi doesn't like to study, he's not had much experience with it in the first place. He's barely gotten his way through school, but uni is a different level. Hence, he needs someone to 1) teach him how to study and 2) make him study, or rather: have a judging eye on him while he is supposed to study, so the fear of being called out on it may light a fire under his ass and force him to bury his nose between the stinky pages of an old library book (on that note: he also needed someone to show him how to check out books from the library).

And that's why you are here, every Thursday afternoon, sitting at the sad excuse of a kitchen counter slash dining table in Mingi's scandalously expensive apartment given its size, growling next to him every time you catch him analyzing the bumps on his wallpapers instead of the letters on the pages.

Mingi generally likes you, even though you are a bit scary, he has to admit, or maybe that's the appeal. You are polite, but you have a way of looking at him that makes him feel like he's getting mansplained by your eyes. Your taunting gaze on him makes him feel small, and he doesn't like that at all. It makes him feel like all these years of drinking milk to make him stand at the 1.84m he is at today were in vain. You always have that one expression on your face, and maybe that's just Mingi's subconsciousness telling him to STUDY HARD FOR GOD'S SAKE, but in the way your eyebrows would scrunch together just the tiniest bit, he reads: God, he is fucking stupid.

He doesn't know which (since he did not pay attention in biology class, nor is he even sure they teach that in biology class) chemical in his brain suffers an allergic reaction every time you look at him like that, but there has to be one. There is nothing that Mingi hates more than being called stupid. Well, except for studying, maybe.

Call him lazy, call him a scalawag, call him witty for being able to get through all of school without reading a single one of the set books if you must, but do not call him stupid.

The only problem is that you haven't, well, called him stupid per se. It's just how Mingi interprets your stares. Also, he desperately needs you because he doubts there will be many other contestants that are okay with getting paid as little as you are (which is all Mingi has left by the end of a month full of Pokémon trading cards). So Mingi just has to sit back and relax and simply take it because, apparently, that's what he gets for not studying his entire life.

A loud ringing wakes Mingi from his peaceful afternoon nap - one that he has really earned this time around, he managed to look through his study notes for a full 20 minutes during his lunch break!

Disoriented, Mingi raises his head to make out his location and what year he is in. It rings again. Slowly, Mingi recognizes the shrill sound as his door bell. He slowly gets up, a quick glance in the mirror tells him that his hair is an absolute mess (which is really a crowning achievement given his buzz cut length) and he has imprint marks from his blanket all over his right cheek, but his sleepy mind doesn't even take it in. Mingi furrows his brows and shakes his head. Who would dare to disturb his peaceful slumber at this ungodly hour (4pm)?

The answer, of course, stands right in front of his door. With your arms crossed and the tip of your shoe drumming a dent into Mingi's "come in if you're a silly baka"-door mat, you raise an unimpressed brow at the sleepy shell of Mingi that blinks one eye after the other.

A few seconds pass until Mingi finally realizes who you are, and his mouth forms an 'o'-shape. Immediately after, he furrows his brows once again, his body slumping forward a bit because: why on God's green earth are you here? Then, it hits him like a truck, the aftermath of the collision blowing the remaining sleep out of his eyes: it's Thursday afternoon!

"Sorry," he says and sheepishly scratches the back of his head, then steps aside to let you enter.

"It's fine, it's only freezing cold outside," you stare at him before stepping in, shudder as you kick your shoes off, slip into Mingi's guest slippers and hurry inside. Mingi's brain does not register the sarcasm drenching your words.

"Let's get to it, shall we?" You ask as Mingi finally manages to follow you into the kitchen. You sit, take out a few sheets of paper from your backpack, then look over questioningly as Mingi has not even moved a millimeter, but instead started yawning like his life depends on it. Your eyes drift down his body. "Or maybe after you've put on some pants?"

Mingi freezes, looks down to confirm that, indeed, he's not wearing pants, but Naruto boxer shorts, then covers his crotch with his hands and buzzes off into his room.

Minutes later, Mingi reenters the kitchen, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips that, yes, he checked twice if he's wearing them the right way around. As mentioned, he is generally unable to properly focus on his studies, but today, it's exceptionally bad. Of course, you'd notice.

"Mingi, are you okay?" There's worry in your eyes – a sight Mingi has not seen. Ever.

"I'm fine, just tired," he mumbles, eyes unfocusing as he stares ahead.

"Yeah, you are? Why?" Mingi's tired mind cannot question why you suddenly seem so interested in his well-being. He also doesn't put any meaning into why you're scooting closer to him, your forearm accidentally touching his.

"I studied during my lunch break," Mingi informs you, a little, proud smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Something tingles inside his chest as you carefully place your hand on his arm. As he looks over at you, you smile at him, and he notices your gaze flickering down to his lips for a second.

Hold on. Mingi's mind suddenly snaps out of its hazy state and works on overdrive. He might be the type to vibe, the type to just let things play out, but he'd be damned if he didn't notice when someone likes him like that. He suddenly notices the way you started creating skin-on-skin contact with him, the way you want to be closer to him, eyeing him even more than you ever did before. Just... why? Is it because you saw him in his Anime panties?

A few moments pass, and you sit back, then pat your pencil against the book to remind him of the reason why you're actually here. Mingi groans, admittedly a little dramatically and unreasonably erotic, brushing a hand through his hair to flex his biceps right in front of your face. You seem unimpressed.

"Well, fuck me," he chuckles deeply, the rasp in his voice more evident than usual due to his nap. It's then when you tense, he notices from the corner of his eye. Oh. Okay. So it's the voice?

"I'm really glad you're tutoring me, you know?" He purrs, throwing in a little praise to get you extra bothered, and you simply breathe out nervously.

"Heh, no worries," you brush him off. Mingi decides that, for now, he's made you suffer enough and keeps quiet. Instead, he focusses on his studies, although he's already planning his next step to terrorize you with the sultry rasp his vocal cords are gifted with.

"Mingi, focus-"

"No, I get what I have to do, the contents just won't stay in my head." Mingi reasons, his voice unusually, but not by chance, high pitched, eyebrows scrunched as to why the hell he has to do this before doing that only to do whatever next when it wasn't like this for the other exercise he had to do minutes prior. He is not stupid (!), he does understand how this works. It's just that it doesn't make sense, and that is surely not his fault.

"Are you stup-" you start, but shut your mouth before you're even able to call him the dumbest fucker you've ever crossed paths with. Mingi inhales sharply. Oh, oh, you're lucky he is patient, and you're lucky he knows that as soon as he growled a few dirty words into your ear, you'd slam your upper body on the counter without regards of caution, pushing your panties down under your skirt and begging him to take you right there - or at least, that's what he imagines.

Yes, Mingi is super patient, that's just what comes with the entire vibe-personality package, so he does not dump your cute sorry ass on his baka-door mat, but simply closes his pen, lays it on the table and looks at you. A fabulous idea plops into his mind.

"God," he groans as deeply as he can, stretching his arms over his head, "I guess I'm just a little" - he throws in a little moany sigh - "a little distracted today."

"A-are you?" You nod, biting your lip subconsciously. Mingi looks at you without moving his head. "Why?"

"Well, just stuff, you know?" Mingi enjoys how the rumble in his voice makes his throat and - obviously - you feel. "There's just a lot, going on. Like big... big stuff. Stuff that just keeps coming and coming, in and out, just like that. Ugh, I wish I could just let all this frustration out you know, all this pent up stuff." He watches for your reaction.

Unmistakably, your hand holding your own pen in a relaxed manner mere seconds ago now desperately grasps the poor objects until your knuckles turn white, your breathing is uneven and loud as if you'd just ran the entire way from Mingi's place to the next convenience store (seriously, why the fuck is he paying so much for this godforsaken apartment?). And - Mingi's favorite reaction to him ever: you're pressing your thighs together.

Oh, how Mingi loves himself a good reaction like this.

"Big stuff, huh?" Your voice trembles as your nervous eyes search for his. "H-how big?"

"Oh, really big. Just really fucking big," Mingi confirms with a slight smirk. He loves how you just fold easily like that. One second, you're over there feeling superior on your little throne of knowledge that Mingi lacks, and the next, you're making a little mess in your panties just because Mingi so much as spoke. Absolutely incredible. People should start calling him "the rizzler".

"I think-" you clear your throat, "I think I should head home then?"

Mingi smiles to himself as soon as you turn away to pack your stuff into your backpack. His hands automatically reach out to play with his pen, his long, slender fingers toying with the object, inevitably drawing your attention to the movements. "Already?"

"Mhm." You stare a second too long, gulp, then hastily stuff your belongings into the big compartment of the backpack, Mingi listens to the sweet melody of stressed breathing and papers crunching.

As amused as he is, he decides that it is time for the big reveal.

"Keep it in your pants, baby" he looks over, his eyebrow halfway raised, and stops rocking back and forth and fiddling with the pencil as you freeze in your tracks and stop packing. "What?"

Slowly, you turn your head to look at him. "So you know?" You manage to squeak.

Mingi smugly pushes his tongue into his cheek. He loves how you're basically vibrating out of nervousness. "Oh, I know."

You sigh, hands finally letting go of your stuff and motioning defeat. He wonders what's going on in your mind right now. Are you afraid he's going to call you out? That he's going to make fun of you? That he's going to call you a needy slut and send you home? Or are you wondering if he's going to give you what you want? Mingi loves this game.

That's why he decides to make your situation a little more miserable.

"I also know that you think I'm stupid," he explains calmly, trying his best to no longer show any excitement, smugness, or any emotion whatsoever on his sharp facial features to really confuse you. Well, that's what you're getting for (almost) calling The Song Mingi stupid. Just a little payback, is all. He's not going to go so far and make you cry. No, no, Mingi can't handle when people cry, much less so if it's because of him.

Nevertheless, your breath hitches. Oh, you're fully aware that he didn't like you calling him that at all. Oh, how the gears are turning behind your forehead as you're trying to figure out what's going on, and what's going to go on in the next minutes.

"Thought so," Mingi deadpans. Yeah, that's right. Look how smart he is now! Super smart! He's got you all figured out. He knows exactly what to say and how to act to make you feel - and, fuck, does this feel like redemption - stupid.

"I'm sorry-" you start, back facing Mingi's form, but Mingi is not here for it. Mingi has gotten what Mingi wants. Mingi feels as powerful as he imagines a lion to feel, like, every day.

"Dumb fucks good," he simply states, just putting it out there, throwing it into the room for you to do with that statement whatever you like. Mingi's mind is already satisfied, his ego stroked because he's just proven that he isn't dumb. Although... he wouldn't mind a little diddling because, if he's being honest, you're hot as fuck and seeing you react to him in this way- well, he's also just a man!

"What?" You probably think you must've terribly misheard him as you whip your head around to face the confident Mingi smugly leaned back in his chair. Your eyes meet his, and he is sure that you now realize that, no, you definitely did not mishear him. That was exactly what he said.

In the blink of an eye, Mingi feels your presence on his lap, a last final look into his eyes before he feels your lips against his, desperately chewing away the remaining air separating his spit from yours. It's messy, lips colliding, too much teeth and tongue, but it's all raw and desperate. Mingi gets the vibes that you may have had some pent up want for him, but that's honestly the last clear thought he can muster before you grind your hips against his.

A deep groan escapes Mingi's lips, inevitably echoing against your own quiet gasps that just turn louder with every movement of your hips, your hands frantically trying to touch him everywhere at once to the point where he has to grab your arms and pull you back. Your eyes, wide. And confused, but somehow lidded and hazy at the same time struggle to take in Mingi in front of you. Yes, Mingi is aware of the effect of his siren eyes.

For another moment, he simply enjoys seeing how destroyed you look already, but honestly, there is just one thing on his mind.

"I'm gonna eat you out," he informs, waiting for you to nod frantically, whine and scramble off his lap for him to keep his promise. And you do, allowing Mingi to grab your waist with his large hands and lift you onto the counter. Of course, he can't resist getting another taste of your lips, almost losing himself in the soft pillows that frame your pretty mouth, but the hardness creating a tent in his sweatpants reminds him that he should possible attend a little lower.

Hence, he kisses his way over your cheek towards your jaw, then over your neck and down your collarbones. Mingi is not sure what your opinions on love bites are, so he just hopes you can remember him being right here and here and here even without visual proof, he can save that for next time.

Okay, Mingi admittedly was not able to hold himself back completely, his teeth only gently nipping at your skin on his way down. He simply hopes for the best, but your sounds seem to imply that you do not mind him one bit. Instead, you sound as if you wouldn't mind him taking a few bites more.

Impatient as you are, you assist Mingi in pushing your shirt out of the way, the straps of your bra automatically falling down your shoulders to reveal more of you to his hungry eyes.

And as much as Mingi would like to spend hours playing with your chest, he keeps it down to a minimum, kissing the soft flesh while gently pushing the remaining material out of the way for better access. His lips wrap around a nipple, his hands meanwhile busy with massaging the other and carefully holding your waist. God, Mingi loves boobs. But he might love the way your fingers comb through his hair and gently pull on it a bit more even.

Finally, the time has come, and Mingi kneels down on the floor. Pushing your skirt up, hands caressing your thighs, he creates eye contact with your eyes glazed over by lust and want. It doesn't even faze him that he hasn't cleaned these floors in weeks, honestly, he is in so deep he probably wouldn't even realize if the stove was on, lighting his study notes on fire.

He wants to tease you more, make you wait, maybe make you beg even, but he just feels too hungry to keep waiting. His fingers hook into the hem of your panties, pulling them down your legs as quickly as possible before spreading your legs and groaning in anticipation.

Throwing your thighs over his shoulders, he pulls you forward a little further, chuckling as you almost lose balance and smile at him. Okay, maybe Mingi feels a little tingle, and maybe that is not a horny tingle, but that's something to worry about later, if ever. Right now, he has a mission: dive in.

So that's what he does, obviously, planting a careful kiss right on your clit to wait for your reaction. And you do not disappoint, gasping slightly at the first sensation before getting louder and bolder the more Mingi tastes you.

His tongue gently parts your folds, getting a first taste of your juices. You basically cry out as his tongue prods at your hole, carefully easing its way inside to caress your walls.

Automatically, your hands fly to his hair, gently pulling at the roots to find a way to ground yourself, the feeling assumingely overwhelming, Mingi thinks, not to brag, but-

Mingi's eyes roll back at a particularly hard tug at his hair, paired with the way your hips grind closer until you're basically riding his face. Fuck, how are you so hot? Mingi's fingers grab hard at your thighs, loving the way the soft flesh feels in his hands.

To experiment a little more and, first and foremost, to get more rewarding reactions out of you, Mingi lets his mouth wander back up to your clit, gently sucking the nub between his lips, his tongue carefully flicking as not to overwhelm you. At the same time, a fingers sneaks its way over to circle your entrance.

Your throat coughs out a broken moan at this, your eyes switching between looking at Mingi's eyes and his mouth, and closing completely. Mingi loves taking in the pleasure written all over your face. He might not admit it, but he loves this kind of praise much more than verbal praise because your body really can't lie. He can literally taste how good he is at this.

He finally pushes his finger inside, loving how the wetness and muscle contractions are basically pulling him deeper and deeper until past his second knuckle. He feels around a little, trying to find the spots that seem to appeal to you the most, watching carefully how you react to each and every flick of his wrist.

Although, he feels that one finger is not enough to prepare you for the rest of him, so he adds another, massaging them into the spot that seems to be making you see stars with the way you grip his hair even tighter and mutter something he interprets as a warning that you're about to cum.

Keeping his pace, he successfully sends you over the edge, letting you ride out your high on his tongue before removing his lips, only getting his fingers massage the last clenches out of you.

Looking up he realizes you look, respectfully, wrecked, with your chest heaving, your hair a little messy and your eyes hazy and glossy, parted lips asking for his. And who is he to deny them, as he leans in to allow you to taste yourself. You seem to like it.

Pulling back after a while, he looks at you. You look so happy and relaxed like he's never seen before. For some reason, it reminds him of the weight in his pants that he suddenly feels the need to inform you about.

"You make me so hard," Mingi says lowly, carefully taking your hand to prove it to you, "feel." It's more your hand guiding his with how fast you reach down to feel him, eager to touch the outline of him through the sweatpants. And as if you're getting paid to stroke Mingi's ego even more, you gasp at his size.

Mingi can't help but smirk, of course, who wouldn't?

"Big stuff, huh?" You repeat your words from earlier, but this time no longer nervous, but cheeky as you bite your lip playfully. Oh, how Mingi would love to make you choke on his dick right now, just a little, and in a loving matter, but he's honestly waited long enough and he really just needs to be in you right now. And besides, Mingi is more in his giving > receiving era.

Instead, he grins. And he feels like there is something more.

Impatiently, you tug at his pants, successfully moving them a millimeter. Mingi helps you push his pants further down until it pools around his ankles. You giggle.

Damnit, Mingi. Why couldn't you've changed your underwear? Mingi mentally scolds himself, a good amount of his previously earned smugness flying out the window. Instead, he gives you kind of a sheepish look.

"I don't mind," you assure, tugging at his anime boxers next, "it's actually relieving to be reminded that you're still the cute, dorky Mingi and are not possessed by a sex demon."

"Incubus," Mingi points out.

"I don't fucking care. Just get this hideous thing off and have sex with me!"

Mingi does not need to be told twice, although he makes a mental note to scold you later for calling the one and only Naruto printed on a piece of fabric shielding his balls from the outside world hideous.

"God, fuck," you let out, and Mingi chuckles at your reaction to his naked lower half, "come here. Please."

You pull him closer, wrap your legs around him and beg him with your eyes. Mingi wastes not another second, aligning himself with your hole and slowly pushing forwards. Your eyes roll back as he enters you, causing you to hold onto him for dear life as he inches inside, filling you completely.

God, must your walls hug him so perfectly? Must you be so unbelievably wet just for him? Must you make these sounds? Mingi feels like he doesn't want to be inside anyone else ever again.

"I feel like I don't want to inside anything else ever again."

How did that get out there?

You chuckle, and have the nerve to pinch his cheek, as if he wasn't balls deep buried inside you right now. "You're so cute."

Cute?!

Mingi will show you cute. He grabs your jaw, admittedly still gently, and makes you look at him as he pulls almost all the way out until his tip catches at your entrance. "Cute?" And he pushes in all the way all at once. You moan, the feeling too much, too intense for you to still keep your eyes open. Helplessly, you cling to Mingi's body as he repeats the action 4 more times before setting a steady rhythm, angling his hips in a way that should stimulate the spot you liked so much earlier.

With your mouth hanging open and your eyebrows scrunched, you look like the prettiest thing Mingi's ever seen. He wants to see you drool, watch you completely lose your mind over nothing else but his cock. At the same time, he is surprised how good it feels. Well, not surprised that it feels good, but that it feels abnormally good, like he's about to nut in the next minute or so. Hopefully, he's able to coax another high out of you before that.

"What was it that riled you up so much earlier? My voice?" He growls, and you as much as whimper in return. "Yeah, like it that my voice is so deep?" You nod pathetically. "Cute."

"Mingi- 's so good."

"Yeah, am I fucking you good?" Mingi grins and you nod weakly, struggling to keep your eyes open. Mingi really shouldn't be the one talking big because honestly, he feels like if u moan one more time, if ur walls clench around him one more time, he is going to lose it. Something about this entire situation is just super surreal to him, or maybe it's simply you that is the reason for his premature high that is coming for him with fast steps.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, kissing your cheek before whispering, "can I please cum inside?"

"Shit, y-yes," you confirm, nodding quickly as you fight your hardest battle to keep your eyes open, focused and on the man that's currently grinding his tip into your sweet spot. Mingi feels like he loves you.

Mingi also feels like he's loosing his grip on reality, which is why he grabs your hips harder than before, using his strength to really slam his hips into yours with force, drowning his thoughts with the sounds of your moans. There is nothing on his mind except for you, you, you, and the primal need to make you his.

"Please," he groans, not quite sure what he's begging for, but it doesn't really matter in the end, does it? All that matters is that Mingi's ears catch the way you're begging him to cum for you, to fill you up, to please, please finish inside. He is not going to deny you that wish.

His hips stutter, his mind goes numb as he feels his muscles tighten and contract, releasing deep inside you. The feeling spreads in his body, feeling high and happy with such a forceful orgasm like this one.

Everything after is just a blur in his mind, he just remembers realizing that you didn't cum a second time, and he wouldn't be Mingi if he kept it that way. That's why he found himself back on his knees seconds after pulling out, sucking your clit back into his mouth, tasting his own release that's threatening to drip out if it wasn't for his fast fingers pumping in and out of you to push you over the edge.

It doesn't take long until you do, orgasm fueled by the lewd action of Mingi eating his own cum out of you, he assumes. Somehow, you two end up in his bed after, mostly because Mingi is a cuddler, partly because Mingi is not able to let you go yet. Or ever. Who knows.

© 2023 YUTASBELLYBUTTONPIERCING all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works.

[fanficsformyfaves]

Now, You're Mine

Rhea Ripley x Fem!Reader

WARNING: SMUT 18+, ANGST, Possessive!Rhea, Breeding Kink, Hickeys (R Receiving), Choking (R Receiving), Cum-Filled Strap On (R Receiving), Bulge Kink, Mommy Kink

PREFACE: Rhea and Reader were hooking up on and off, but Rhea wanted her all to herself

A/N: Rhea's P.O.V. in Bold and Colored!

Flashback in Italics!

Texts in Bold and Colored!

Some surprise appearances by other WWE Stars!

THIS HAD ME GRIPPING THE SHEETS FOR REAL

Kinda toxic, but eh

RHEA'S P.O.V.

She was all I've ever wanted. From how beautiful she was, to her kind-hearted nature and quick wits, she was nothing short of perfection. I remember the day we met vividly.

I had just gotten done with my match and was grabbing a bite to eat with my friends.

"I'll take-"

"The chicken tenders", I say in unison with Fin and Priest.

The three of us laugh, as Dom shook his head.

"Typical", Priest mocked,

"Hey, I know what I like, alright?", Dom argued.

Snapping the menu closed and handing it back to the waiter.

"I'll be back", I say,

Dismissing myself and heading to the bathroom, but as I did, somebody walks out.

Time came to a sudden halt, as I took in just how beautiful she was. It was as if everyone else disappeared and we were the only people there.

She gives me a shy smile, before walking past me and heading back to her table. My eyes never leaving her, as she took her seat.

YOUR P.O.V.

I immediately walk back to my friends, trying hard to hide my flushed cheeks.

"You good?", Nikki questioned,

"Yeah", I hesitantly answered,

As my gaze fell upon her once more. I couldn't help it, even if I tried. Besides how breathtaking she was, there was just something about her that intrigued me. Maybe it was the jet black hair or the tattoos that masked her hands, either way, I couldn't take my eyes off of her.

"What's got you all shy?", Brie questioned,

Taking me out of my head.

"What?"

She turns to try and see what I was looking at and immediately caught on.

"Oh, she's so your type"

"Dear God, please shut up", I pleaded,

"Who?"

It was now Naomi's turn to look and she also began teasing me.

"Oooh", she taunted,

Nudging me.

"Guys, come on. Let's not embarrass her", Nat ceased.

During the time of my friends poking fun at me, she looks over and sends another smile my way. If my heart wasn't racing out of my chest already, it surely was now.

Once we were done with our food and paid the bill, her table was also finishing up their dinner.

"Now's your chance, don't be shy", Nikki egged on,

"Nikki!", I warned in a whisper,

"Oh come on, what's the worst that can happen?"

"Um, she could hear me?"

"You're really gonna let her go?", she emphasized,

Pointing, when I smack her hand away.

"Keep your hand down!"

"Sorry", she whispered,

"I think you should go for it", Nat chimed in,

"Oh, not you too"

"(Y/N), you've got nothing to lose. She says no and then what?"

"And then I die of embarrassment"

Causing her eyes to roll.

"Look, nothing's gonna happen, if I don't talk to her"

"Exactly. Nothing's gonna happen if you don't talk to her, which I personally think is worse", she retorted.

I take a deep breath, slouching back against the booth chair, when I notice her table begin to gather their things.

"It's now or never, champ", Brie added on.

Was I terrified? Absolutely...but after battling with the anxious chill in the pit of my stomach, I ultimately got up and carefully made my way towards her.

Every step feeling like boulders strung at my feet.

Once I was less than a foot away, I clear my throat in an attempt to catch her attention. She turns around and somehow, she was even more breathtaking up close.

Her eyes reflecting baby blue skies in them, as her lips curled up into a grin.

"Hi", I greeted,

"Hello", she smiles down at me,

"I hope I'm not being too forward, but, I think you're...really beautiful", I struggled,

I knew my face had turned a bright red by the way she eyes my cheeks.

"Do you, now?", she challenged,

"Yeah", I chuckled nervously,

"Well", she began,

Taking my hand inro hers.

"I said the same thing to my mates earlier. You're quite the sight"

My heart was on the verge of giving out.

"What are you doing after this?"

"Um", I say,

Glancing back at my friends, who immediately turned away.

"It seems we have an audience"

"Don't mind them, they're just nosy", I reassured,

Making her laugh to herself.

"I'm not doing anything"

"Perfect", she said,

Gently leading me outside.

We head back to the hotel she was staying at and after letting my friends know where we went, she started up a movie for us.

Let's just say the movie had simply become background noise.

Since then, we'd been hooking up on and off, but in all honesty, I wanted more. Don't get me wrong, what we had was beyond my wildest imaginations, but I often caught myself daydreaming about being more than just 'friends'.

It didn't help, the fact that she fueled these delusions. Intentionally or not.

In those moments, post-sex, there would be a glimmer of softness that made me melt from the inside out. A contrasting difference from how she would usually treat me in bed.

Little gestures she'd do, like playing with my hair till I fell asleep or tracing mindless shapes onto my back. It all just added to the already burdensome weight in my chest.

The longer this went on, the harder it became to keep my feelings at bay. The harder it got to avoid the questions that plagued my mind.

Would she want that too? What if she didn't? Would she get upset and cut me off entirely? I could have all the time in the world and none of it would be enough to find a single answer.

I was planning to just keep my mouth shut and take this secret to my grave...until I heard about Liv. She was Rhea's tag team partner and at first, I didn't think anything of it, till I saw their backstage interview, where she kissed Rhea's cheek.

Alarms immediately went off in my head.

I knew she'd been sleeping up with other people, but to actually see her flirt with someone else was the wakeup call I needed.

I decided to keep my distance for a while and eventually, she caught on. For the last few weeks, I'd been responding less to her texts and have ignored her late night calls all together.

As much as I hated to admit it, I missed her, but I knew I had to hold my ground.

(SUNDAY)

Rhea: Hey

Seen at 5:06 pm

Rhea: I haven't seen you in a while, how's things been?

Seen at 5:25 pm

(MONDAY)

Me: Good, you?

Seen at 9:03 pm

Rhea: Pretty busy lately, aren't you?

Seen at 10:00 pm

But what I think finally made things click for Rhea was when I run into her at Dom's birthday party.

As it was being thrown at her house, I knew to come prepared, so I put on the dress I knew she liked and paired it with the perfect heels. Between my hair, makeup and outfit, I was undoubtedly sure to make some heads turn.

Not even a minute goes by, before Rhea spots me and makes a beeline toward where I stood.

"Ladies", she greets,

As they all nod, before heading inside. She eyes me up and down, before taking a few steps closer.

"(Y/N)", she grins.

I cross my arms over my chest, avoiding her daunting stare.

"Beautiful, as always"

"Thanks"

She goes in for a hug, when I simply brush past her, leaving Rhea undoubtedly confused. For the rest of the night, I stood by, watching my friends get wasted and have the time of their lives.

I, however, was too distracted by Rhea watching me from across the room. The slicked-back hair, the leather top that perfectly showcased her strong arms. I was intoxicated solely by staring at her.

Somewhere in the night, my friends had completely disappeared and I was left on the couch alone.

That was until Sonya took the vacant spot next to me.

"I don't like parties either", she spoke,

Finally ripping my gaze away from Rhea.

"Hey, Sonya"

"You know my name?", her eyebrows meet,

"Yeah, I saw your match with Nikki and John. They invited me to watch"

"Oh, cool, your Nikki's friend. I'm assuming you came with her and Brie?"

"Yup, but...", I say,

Quickly scanning the room.

"I have no idea where they went"

"Well, Brie's probably throwing up the drinks she chugged and Nikki's probably hooking up with Cena upstairs"

"Probably", I chuckled,

Sipping my cocktail.

"But, hey, at least you got me", she joked,

Playfully nudging me.

"At least", I agreed.

"I hope this isn't me coming on too strong, but would you like to dance?"

"Um..."

I go to look back at Rhea and it was almost as if she was trying to communicate with her eyes.

It was now my turn to have fun.

"I'd love to", I turn back to Sonya,

Grabbing her hand and leading her to the dancefloor.

RHEA'S P.O.V.

What the hell was Deville up to and why was (Y/N) reciprocating it? I knew she'd gone almost radio silent lately, but I didn't think it was this serious.

My blood boiled at the sight of Sonya twirling her around, as her eyes raked up and down (Y/N)'s body. Shamelessly staring at what was mine. I knew I had only myself to blame, but I couldn't help but seethe with anger. It should be me grabbing her hips that way. It should be me making her laugh like that.

Had I messed up by not owning up to how I really felt? Yes, but I wasn't going to lose her over that. She was everything I could ever want and I'd be a fool to just let her go.

Having had enough, I shove my drink into Priest's chest and made my way over to them.

"(Y/N). Deville", I address,

Interrupting their laughter.

"Hey, Ripley", Sonya replied,

As I respond with a sarcastic grin.

"I need to talk to you", I address (Y/N),

"I'm kind of in the middle of something-"

"(Y/N)", I cut off,

Causing her to be taken aback.

YOUR P.O.V.

I couldn't lie, the stern tone in her voice made my core ache and my knees go weak. I had no choice but to comply.

I follow her through the crowd and up the stairs, till we reach her bedroom at the end of the hall.

As we step inside, she closes the door behind her and leans against it.

"What do you want?", I questioned,

"Don't play dumb with me"

"I'm not", I egged on.

She scoffs, leaning off the door and taking a step towards me.

"Are we really going to do this?"

"I don't know...are we?"

I knew me challenging her was a risk, but it was one I was willing to take. I needed to know once and for all if this was something worth fighting for.

With a mischievous grin, she leans down to whisper in my ear.

"Do you really think Sonya, of all people, can treat you better than I can? Hm? Make you feel as good as I do?"

Her hands creep up to the small of my waist and pulled me in closer. I could feel my knees threatening to give out and was fighting so hard to stop it.

"Or was this all just to get my attention?"

She kisses up my neck and chewed on the lobe of my ear.

"You want me? You've got me"

Like I'd weighed nothing, she picks me up by thighs, causing a surprised gasp to escape me.

"All you had to do was say so"

She then carries me to bed and crawled atop me, kissing and licking up my legs.

"This dress. Fuck", she murmured against my thighs,

Before spreading them apart to discover my glistening core.

"I've barely started and you're already making a mess", she teased,

"Rhea", I whined,

"Yes, darling?"

"Please"

"Please what? You know I like to hear you say it"

I take in a deep breath, before finally locking eyes with her.

"Fuck me"

She smirks once more, before pulling away and walking over to her closet. I carefully observe her every move and once she was done digging through her clothes, she turns around, causing my stomach drops.

She's used straps on me before, but this one was...different.

"I've been saving this for something special, but of course you had to be a brat tonight", she says,

Stopping right before the bed.

"Take my clothes off", she ordered.

I crawl over to her, helping her out of her blazer, before unbuttoning her blouse and pulling her pants down.

Unbeknownst to me, she was already completely naked beneath her clothes. The sight of her exquisite body never failing to drive me crazy.

"My turn"

She pulls my dress off over my head, leaving me in just my stockings.

"No underwear? God, you are a slut"

And without wasting another breath, she pulls me in by my waist, whilst wrapping her lips around my hardened buds.

Desperate moans and whines escaping me as she did so.

"You're so much nicer when Mami's got a hold of you, hm?"

She then pushes me onto my back, before spreading my legs and ripping my fishnets down the middle. She must've sensed my concern, by the way her eyes flickered up to me.

"I'll get you new ones", she reassured,

Before pulling back and securing the toy around her hips.

I was practically drooling from how good she looked. From her inked hand rubbing up and down the dildo, to her insatiable eyes eating me alive, I could've cum right then and there.

"I need you, Mami, please", I pleaded,

Tugging her lips up into a smirk.

"I know you do. Why else would you try so hard to get my attention?", she teased,

Licking the shell of my ear and sending a chill up my spine.

In a flash, she throws my legs around her waist, dragging me in closer, whilst rubbing the tip of the strap against my entrance.

"Let's see if you can keep up"

She thrusts into me in one swift motion, filling me up to the brim and causing a cry to escape past my lips.

Her pace was immediate and rough, like the hand she snaked up my body, before settling around my throat. It felt like I was being split apart in the best way possible. The mixture of the pleasure and pain already causing tears to blur my vision.

"You're fucking mine", she grunted against my shoulder,

"Yes, Mami!", I cried out,

Grabbing her wrist.

With each merciless thrust, my orgasm was nearing faster and faster and I knew it was only a matter of time, till I came undone in her grasp.

"Fuck!", I whined under my moans,

"You're doing so good for me", she licked up my throat,

Reaching down to rub vigorous circles on my clit and yanking a final scream out of me.

"Do it. Cum for Mami", she demanded.

The stars in my eyes were all I saw, before being pushed over the edge.

Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, I feel her hand pull back to squeeze the base of the toy, causing it to spurt out ropes of warm sticky liquid all over my clenching walls.

I let out a surprised gasp, as Rhea chuckled against my neck. She looks back up and smashed her now-smudged lips against my own.

"Now, everyone here knows who you belong to", she teased.

My stomach dropped at the realization.

[porcelian]

⌕ search result ＞ ʬʬ dc ＞ six tabs open !

⎙ tab. 01 ░ jason todd/reader ⤸

⟢ one-shots ⤸

ʬʬ rouge in his hands | smut

There you stand, on the edge of the dance floor. The golden filigree of the ivory floor glows beneath your feet. The crystal chandelier casts a shimmering light upon your dewy skin. The rouge-colored velvet fabric flows across your frame like waves in a calm sea.

He almost chokes on his breath.

ʬʬ coffee and pistols for two? | fluff

His intrusive thoughts wrap around his mind and blinden his eyes like a blindfold, cutting off his senses in a way that he doesn’t notice the shuffling of your feet against the wooden floor, he doesn’t notice you now standing in front of him. He hears you first.

ʬʬ tangled in red | fluff

Your hands grip the jacket closer as you curl into the leather even more, taking in the warmth and feel of him. Red. On you. His red.

ʬʬ tricks, treats and together | fluff

request: Jason and Reader take Damian trick-or-treating and get mistaken for as his parents.

ʬʬ 16, clumsy and shy | fluff

“Searching for something?—” Jason's ears perk up as he hears Bruce's calculated words. Calculated in a way he knows that his dad is trying not to sound obvious that he has figured out the fact that something or a certain someone is tugging at his son's heart. “—or someone?”

ʬʬ a sight so sweet | fluff

request: hello! i went to a party today and i kept thinking about jason. well, i think he'd be the kind of partner who'd watch you from afar to make sure you're okay, he'd definitely have access to your location 24 hours for his own peace of mind. ... anyway, could you write something based on that? xx

ʬʬ you're my man (of bright light) | fluff

request: Okay, but Jason taking the his secret girlfriend to the fair, they're having a good time playing games, winning prizes, eating funnel cake, when they run into the bat fam.

ʬʬ oh, take me back (to the night we met) | angst + comfort

request: Reader meets/is with Jay after he becomes Red Hood. After finding out that he used to be Robin, she recalls an interaction she had years ago with the Boy Wonder, unaware that they would paths again years later.

ʬʬ tongue tied | fluff

request: Reader teasing Jason over his blushing. You can decide whether they're in an established or pre-established relationship.

ʬʬ damsels in distress | fluff

request: hi there! was wondering if you could write a lil something about reader consuming a bunch of horror movies and getting scared and jason ends up teasing reader for it?

ʬʬ hero for a day | fluff

Jason's—or rather, the Red Hood's—all-too-recognizable helmet rests temptingly on the dresser. A little too temptingly. An idea quickly forms in your mind—a truly devious idea.

ʬʬ lilac-blossoms & book stands | fluff

"Though, after I read this and you finish your book, I'd love to hear what you think." Your hands grip the book tighter, you're so nervous. Calm down. "Same place? In a few weeks, maybe?" "O–oh, I will, I mean." He straightens his posture, "I mean, of course."

ʬʬ plushies & cuddles | fluff

The realization that a plushie was currently hoarding his well-deserved cuddles after a long day didn’t sit right with him.

ʬʬ cookies & bake-offs | fluff

It's the faint sound of your soft voice humming that catches his attention first. His ears perk up, and he turns his head toward the sound. Then, the faint smell of warm chocolate fills his nose. You must be baking.

ʬʬ furry new beginnings | fluff

Jason stared at the tabby for a few moments, then at you, with your big smile and pleading eyes staring back at him.

ʬʬ carnation letters | fluff

For you, those gestures came in the form of carnations, delicate and vibrant, appearing at the most unexpected times.

ʬʬ poisoned wells | angst

"Sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof that you've been ruined." – Ocean Vuong, On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous

ʬʬ offered tenderness | fluff

He thanked you every time in his mind for trusting him with this piece of you.

⟢ drabbles ⤸

ʬʬ demisexual + touchstarved ! jason todd | suggestive

ʬʬ up late at night | fluff

ʬʬ wandering hands | suggestive

ʬʬ tinsels and kisses | suggestive

ʬʬ sweet cherry blood | smut

ʬʬ the polaroid in his wallet | fluff

⟢ prompts ⤸

ʬʬ frozen peas pressed against bruised skin | fluff

ʬʬ folktale | fluff

ʬʬ forced proximity | suggestive

⟢ blurbs ⤸

ʬʬ phantom of the opera ! jason todd

⟢ headcanons ⤸

ʬʬ how he loves | fluff

request: Hi! Can you please write headcanons 'how he loves' for Dick and Jason like you did for Damian?

⎙ tab. 02 ░ damian wayne/reader ⤸

⟢ headcanons ⤸

ʬʬ how he loves | fluff

request: hi author!! wanted to just make an ask to see if you would write something with damian? if it's okay with you, may it be sfw and romantic? hc's or not, whatever you prefer!!

⎙ tab. 03 ░ dick grayson /reader ⤸

⟢ headcanons ⤸

ʬʬ how he loves | fluff

request: Hi! Can you please write headcanons 'how he loves' for Dick and Jason like you did for Damian?

⎙ tab. 04 ░ tim drake/reader ⤸

ʬʬ how he loves | fluff

request: If it's not a bother for you can you please write for Tim and Duke 'how he loves'? Thank you!

⎙ tab. 05 ░ duke thomas/reader ⤸

ʬʬ how he loves | fluff

request: If it's not a bother for you can you please write for Tim and Duke 'how he loves'? Thank you!

⎙ tab. 06 ░ stephanie brown/cassandra cain ⤸

⟢ one-shots ⤸

halcyon | fluff + smut

request: The prompt I had in mind was their wedding day, especially ceremony. Going through all the stages of the day (getting ready > ceremony > reception > wedding night 🫣), could be through quick snapshots with bigger focus on the ceremony in the middle because I think it's the cutest part <33 if you don't want to do all of those focus on ceremony.

⟢ miscellaneous ⤸

moodboards

batfamily twitter au

© PORCELIAN ﹕ I do not give consent for my writing to be posted or used on any other platforms without my permission and proper credit.

[misspygmypie]

A Tiny Tifosi?

Part of the "Meet & Greet... and more?" Universe Pairing: Lando Norris x Noah, Lando Norris x reader, Lando Norris x Baby Maebry, Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz appearance Words: 1562 Request: Lando and yn taking mae and noah to a grand prix, but mae seems to favour other cars over her dad making lando jealous and upset. Masterlist

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

Lando Norris had been eagerly counting down the days until this Grand Prix race weekend. It wasn’t just about the thrill of competition or the chance to showcase his racing skills. This particular weekend held a special excitement for him because it was an opportunity to share his high-octane world with Maebry for the first time. The stands were already packed with enthusiastic fans when Lando, accompanied by Y/N, Noah and Maebry navigated through the paddock.

Noah, ever the curious and energetic child, tugged on Lando’s hand. “Dad, can we go see the cars up close later? It’s been so long since we’ve been at a race!”

“Of course,” Lando, trying to mask his own excitement, smiled down at his son. “I’ve got a whole itinerary planned for you guys. We’ll see the cars, the pit lane and maybe even meet some of the other drivers. It’s Mae’s first visit so I have to make it special!”

Y/N, holding said girl securely in her arms, couldn’t help but notice Lando’s extra bounce in his step. “I think you’ve got your priorities straight,” she said, chuckling. “This is a special weekend indeed.”

Lando was eager to introduce his family to his colleagues and teammates. He had been looking forward to showing Maebry, who was just old enough to be fascinated by the colorful chaos of the Grand Prix, what his world was all about. The smell of gasoline and the roar of engines were like a symphony to Lando and he hoped Maebry would catch a bit of that magic.

When they finally arrived at Lando’s car, which was gleaming under the sunlight, he carefully lifted Maebry from Y/N’s arms and held her tiny hand up to the car’s sleek livery. “Look, Maebry, this is Daddy’s car. Isn’t it amazing?”

Maebry glanced at the car, then her attention darted to the car next to it. Lando’s heart sank as he saw her little eyes light up at the sight of the rival’s red machine. The Ferrari was practically winking at her with its bright red paint and Maebry was enchanted.

“Oh, come on,” Lando muttered under his breath, his smile twitching. “It’s just a car. Mine has more... character!”

Maebry giggled and reached out eagerly for the Ferrari. Lando tried to stay upbeat. “Maebry, sweetie, Daddy’s car is super fast and cool. It’s the best car here,” he said, his voice rising to a pitch that would make any public speaker proud.

Noah, who saw his sister gleaming at the red car, had to intervene. “Daddy’s car can totally beat that Ferrari in a race! It’s like, super duper fast,” he said, his McLaren pride clearly showing.

The girl, however, continued to be mesmerized by the Ferrari, her tiny fingers reaching towards it as if she was trying to pull it into her little world. Lando’s smile faltered completely and he felt an irrational pang of jealousy. “Why is she not into my car? Is it the color? I don't understand, it’s basically the superhero of cars!”

“She’s just discovering new things, Lando. It’s probably just the bright color. Ferrari does have a certain appeal,” Y/N tried to reassure him and placed a hand on his shoulder. 

Lando tried to laugh it off but it came out as more of a strangled chuckle. “Yeah, sure. I’ll just add ‘bright red’ to my car’s next upgrade, Zak will love that.”

As the race began, Maebry clapped her hands and squealed with joy as the engines came to life. Lando was focused on the track waiting for the race to start, determined to give his best performance but every time he glanced over at Maebry in the paddock club overlooking the pit lane he saw her pointing towards the rival car. It was like a constant reminder that his daughter had developed an unexpected crush on Ferrari.

Noah, meanwhile, continued to be Lando’s most enthusiastic cheerleader. “Go, Daddy,” he shouted, waving his flag energetically. Lando appreciated Noah’s support but every enthusiastic shout from his son felt like a band-aid on the gaping wound of his jealousy.

The race progressed with Lando pushing himself to the limit. He performed admirably, navigating the track with the precision and skill he was known for. However, the nagging thought of Maebry’s fascination with the Ferrari was a persistent distraction. It was as if every turn he took was accompanied by a mental image of Maebry gazing longingly at the rival car.

After the race, with Y/N, Noah and Maebry in tow, Lando approached the Ferrari motorhome. He tried to keep his spirits high, even as he recalled how he’d set up this meeting days earlier without a clue that Maebry would develop an almost magnetic fascination with Ferrari.

He took a deep breath and tried to mentally prepare himself. He hoped the sight of his friends Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz would help take his mind off the day’s earlier frustrations.

The Ferrari motorhome was a hive of activity, filled with team members, fans and the occasional stray driver who had wandered in for a post-race chat. Charles and Carlos were engaged in animated conversation with a few of their team members, their faces lighting up with the energy of a good race and a job well done.

Lando, trying to appear casual despite the slight tinge of envy still gnawing at him, waved energetically. “Hey, guys,” he called out, his voice a bit too cheerful, like someone trying to overcompensate for a bad day and he cast a quick glance at Y/N when he heard her stifle a laugh next to him.

Charles and Carlos looked up from their conversation, their faces breaking into genuine smiles when they saw Lando and his family approaching. Charles waved back enthusiastically. “Hey, Lando! Great to see you all, come on in!”

Noah, bouncing with excitement, stepped forward. “I have so many questions for you two!”

Charles laughed, clearly enjoying Noah’s enthusiasm. “We’ve got time. We will answer all of them!”

Lando shifted Maebry in his arms so she could get a better view while trying hard to keep his cool. “Maebry, this is Charles and Carlos. They’re really good friends of Daddy’s.”

Charles and Carlos turned their full attention to Maebry. “Hi, Maebry,” Charles said with a warm smile. “It’s so nice to meet you!”

Carlos added, “Do you like racing, Maebry?”

Maebry’s eyes widened as she looked around, then her gaze locked onto the Ferrari logo on the side of the building. Without hesitation she pointed at it with the excitement of a kid who just discovered chocolate.

Lando’s heart sank even further. “Seriously? I might need to get her a McLaren onesie and start over.”

“Looks like we’ve got a tiny Tifosi on our hands,” Carlos said with a playful grin and exchanged an amused look with Charles. “Ferrari is pretty iconic.”

“That’s a great choice, Maebry,” Charles added. “Ferrari is all about history and passion, it’s hard not to be impressed.”

Y/N gave Lando a sympathetic look. “She’s just discovering her favorites. It’s perfectly okay and it doesn’t mean she doesn’t love your car.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Lando forced a smile, though he still felt a twinge of disappointment but he didn’t want to make a scene in front of his friends. “I just wanted her to be excited about my car, too…”

Carlos, noticing Lando’s subdued mood, decided to lighten the atmosphere. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small Ferrari keychain. “How about a little keepsake for Maebry?”

Maebry’s face lit up and she eagerly reached for the keychain. Lando, trying to suppress his feelings, joked: “Maybe I should just repaint my car Ferrari red and call it a day.”

“Don’t worry, Lando,” Charles clapped Lando on the back, “we’ll make sure she knows how awesome McLaren is too.”

As they chatted, Maebry continued to admire the Ferrari keychain, her attention completely absorbed by the small emblem. Lando watched her intensely, feeling a mix of frustration and resignation. His daughter’s fascination with the rival team was a hard pill to swallow but he couldn’t deny the joy on her face.

With goodbyes exchanged and a few more photos taken, Lando’s family left the Ferrari motorhome. Maebry clutched her new keychain, her face beaming with happiness, while Noah chattered excitedly about the day’s events.

Later, as Lando carried a sleepy Maebry on his shoulder, her little fingers holding onto the Ferrari keychain and a souvenir flag, he felt mixed emotions. Despite the day’s earlier frustrations, seeing her so content and peaceful made his heart swell but he was still jealous.

Y/N looked at Lando with a knowing smile. “You did great out there and Maebry had a blast, even if she’s got a bit of a rivalry going with your car.”

“I guess she’ll have her favorites just like everyone else. At least she had fun,” Lando chuckled softly, shaking his head. 

Noah, still buzzing from the day’s excitement, grabbed Lando’s hand. “Dad, you were awesome! Even if Maebry likes the other car, you’re still the best!”

“Thanks, buddy,” Lando said, squeezing Noah’s hand. “That means a lot.”

As they walked to their car Lando glanced down at his daughter. Maybe one day she’d appreciate his car’s greatness - or at least learn to love both Ferraris and McLarens.

________

AN: This request made me chuckle so hard lmao I had so much fun writing this!! (Also, the irony of me writing this after the past weekend 😭)... Anon I hope you like it and if not let me know and I can rewrite 😊🫶

Taglist: @eloriis @pacifierbby @landossainz @littlegrapejuice @barcelonaloverf1life @poppyflower-22 @itsjustfranzi @vickykazuya @sltwins