#every time it's them I write some kind of foreplay or smut
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[PINNED]: sender pins receiver against a wall (For Oraia~)
Her lovely had called asking to see her within the next few days, sounding frustrated. Of course, Oraia had her assistant (who knew about Oraia Levantinis and Artemisia Stavros) clear her schedule. She didn't have any supernatural matters to resolve, anyway, so it was no problem.
She expected Anna Marie to want their usual weekend, which consisted of some fairly passive activity (suntanning on a mostly empty beach, sightseeing somewhere where flowers thrived, taking some horses down a trail, etc.), followed by a meal and several rounds of passionate, loud sex that didn't end until both women were sweaty and panting. Being the person she was, Oraia always treated her love to a quiet shower or a scented bath afterward. But she had a feeling that Rogue wanted something different. The goddess texted the heroine with her alternative, and smiled as she received an address as confirmation.
They had Avengers West's official gym all to themselves, thanks to Anna Marie's connections. Oraia didn't exercise often, beyond frequent swimming, and the running and fighting she did when trying to do her part to save the world. Weightlifting was...well, it wasn't something she was amazing at, to say the least. Anna had to keep correcting her form. But Oraia never stopped smiling, liking the little touches and encouragement she received. She especially liked when she stuck her ass out and had her girlfriend check to see "if it was engaged enough". Then...she got into trouble.
It was a date, and Oraia was who she was, so after a while of her date not talking (beyond giving exercise tips), the curious woman began to prod--literally. She smacked the other woman's tight ass whenever she got the chance, and stole her weights, saying she could lift Oraia and the weights if she really wanted a workout. Basically, she riled Anna Marie up until she was frowning, and then she innocently asked her to spar.
Initially, the superhero pulled her punches. She was used to doing so, given how strong she was. Well apparently, she'd forgotten how strong her opponent was, and how they'd shoved each other around that other time. Oraia trapped her in a hold for the fourth, and Anna Marie was practically spitting venom. She was quickly released.
"You don't have to be anyone else for me. Come on," Oraia said, getting into a fighting stance. The moment she nodded, Anna Marie grazed her chin with a punch and then tackled Oraia, hands around her waist. They flew back, all the way into the magically-reinforced walls with a sound THUD. It wasn't often that someone hit her hard enough to actually daze her. She tried to get up and found herself pinned to the wall by her shoulders (and, well, strong hands).
"Ah got you," Anna hissed, green eyes flashing with a determination and fury that Oraia had never seen before. But then those eyes softened, and the X-Woman faltered, hands falling. She'd seen the pain in her lover's face. "Ah-Ah'm real sorry--Oraia, Ah didn't mean t'hurt ya, not really--"
"Shh, sunflower. Nothing some nectar won't fix, if I even need it. I was hoping I'd see this side of you, actually."
"...why? If ya were any weaker, Ah coulda'--"
"But I'm not." Oraia smiled, holding Anna's pretty pouting face in her hands. "I told you to give me all you had. You sounded stressed out earlier, so I thought you needed to hit something. Better me than a fragile little punching bag. And I enjoyed seeing you flexing, and lifting, and ogling--"
"Ha, ha." But she was smiling. She casually rested one hand on Oraia's hip, and slipped the other into the woman's panties. "Guessin' this is a lil more 'n sweat, hm?" Anna smirked as she began to slowly work her fingers back and forth, earning a breathy chuckle in response.
"How indestructible are the showers?"
#oraia: thread#oof#thanks for the ask!#abrushwithdeath#oh gosh I'm horrible haha#every time it's them I write some kind of foreplay or smut
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smut alphabet | j.wy

❤︎ synopsis — unholy filth with wooyo, read at your own risk :)
pairing: jung wooyoung x gn!reader
genre: smut ❣︎
a/n: second part !! i have a lot of fics i wanna write, but im just gonna crank out some more smut alphabet fics. i’m hoping to do joong or mingi next after wooyoung. enjoy~ <3
cw: smutty headcanons.
a = aftercare (how do they take care of their partner after sex?)
aftercare king. wooyoung is the type of boyfriend to sling on some sweats quickly, just to cook you a nice little meal after sex. he wants his partner energized and taken care of
b = bottom or top? / body part (do they prefer giving or receiving? what body part are they most confident in?)
woo is a vers who fluctuates rapidly, but most of the time he likes to be in “submissive” positions while handling the control.
when it comes to his body, wooyoung is particularly proud of his abs, and eats it up every time you lather kisses all over them. he also appreciates his partner’s ass a lot
c = cum (where do they like to cum on their partner?)
wooyoung likes to come outside of his partner, mainly because he appreciates the view. preferably, he does it on the chest, or immediately after he pulls out and watches his semen splatter all over his lover’s pussy/asshole
d = dirty secret (a kinky secret they haven’t shared with many people)
he jerks off to the secret sex tapes you and him filmed together while he’s on tour, since you can’t be with him.
e = experience (how experienced are they in sex)
he’s a fast learner. probably had one or two hookups here and there, but woo got the hang of things fast in the sex world once he got with you
f = favorite position (what positions are their favorites? do they prefer giving or receiving?)
#1 cowgirl/reverse cowgirl fanboy. wooyoung loves watching you bounce on his cock, and he gets a good view no matter what way you’re facing. he’s also a big enthusiast of lotus position for more intimate moments, where he can just hold you close to him
g = goofy (do they like to be silly during sex? how often do they giggle)
wooyoung is a big menace, and sometimes he’ll giggle a little at your fucked-out expressions every time he fucks you so good. usually during foreplay is when both you and him get super giggly
h = hair (how well groomed are they down there?)
kind of unkempt down there, but wooyoung makes sure to do regularly trimming when needed. mainly for his and your comfort
i = intimacy (are they romantic during sex? how intimate do they get?)
VERY !!! when wooyoung isn’t in the mood for hard sex, he’s genuinely the most romantic person ever. woo also very much enjoys being pampered when he’s on the receiving end. definitely has a thing for holding hands during sex.
j = jack off (do they masturbate often? why do they do it?)
does it more than he admits to. wooyoung will really only jerk off when he’s away from you for long periods of time (tours, fashion weeks, promotions etc.)
k = kinks (what are a couple of their kinks?)
we all know of his degrading kink, and you take advantage of that. he just gets a little harder every time you call him something humiliating like that. while he’s into being called names, he also enjoys praise the same way too. woo’s also into bondage.
l = location (where do they prefer to do the deed? how private are they?)
has preferences for where you do the deed. wants to keep it in the house, but wooyoung’s impulsive, and definitely doesn’t mind taking you for a spin in his car, backstage, in dressing rooms etc.
m = motivation (what turns them on? what gets them in the mood)
viewing sex as a reward. if you tell him, or he tells himself, to get all of the shit he needs to get done for the day/week, the ultimate prize is his dick in your hole
n = no!!! (what are their turn offs? what do they refuse to do?)
anything with knives or blood. wooyoung also gets turned off by the thought of sharing you.
o = oral (do they prefer giving or receiving oral? how do they use their mouth?)
oh baby he LIVES for blowjobs. loves to hold your head in place while you suck the life out of his erection. definitely enjoys giving too
p = pace (do they go fast or slow? rough or sensual?)
can take things slow and sensual when the mood calls for it. wooyoung actually prefers going at slower paces, so he can drag out the intimacy longer and really enjoy being with his partner, delivering smooth, long strokes while kissing in between
(but wooyoung will definitely pound you like a jackhammer if you tease him too much)
q = quickie (what’s their opinion on quickies and how often do they do them?)
sometimes he likes them, but he’s mostly not into them. wooyoung usually doesn’t do quickies.
r = risk (are they willing to try new things? how many risks can they take?)
trying out new toys? using silk for bondage? new positions? wooyoung is all for taking risks and trying new things. he’ll even roleplay if he’s interested enough.
when it does come to genuine risks to your health however, he backs off immediately
s = stamina (how good is their stamina? how many rounds can they go for?)
can last a good while depending on his mood. if it’s some long, intense rounds, usually 4. but his usual stamina makes him last about 2-3 rounds
t = toys (do they own any toys?)
wooyoung has a whole box where he hides all of your guys’ sex toys. he’s got quite a lot, some he hasn’t even used yet
u = unfair (how often do they like to tease? do they get impatient from being teased?)
this motherfucker teases a lot, and he loves it when you tease him back just to rile him up. wooyoung lives on the edge, and he likes to make a challenge when with his lover
v = volume (how loud are they during sex? quiet or hella vocal?)
so loud, even when he’s topping. he will let out hoarse shouts when he’s cumming, and is shameless when he’s expressing his pleasure vocally. woo likes to express how good you make him feel
w = wild card (a wild sex story they have that’s too good to not share)
woo got a nipple piercing, and after it healed you two got down and dirty. however, somehow the ring got caught on your necklace while you guys were making out between thrusts. you spent a good five minutes untangling the jewelry (and trying not to laugh as wooyoung whined about it being a mood killer).
x = x-ray (what’s going on underneath those pants? how much are they packing?)
has that pretty boy pornstar dick. slightly above average (5.5 inches), but makes up for it in girth and knows how to use it. perfectly veiny too, and maybe a couple of beauty marks on it.
y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
wooyoung’s got a pretty high libido, and 90% of the time he’s usually in the mood. anything can turn him on. from the outfit you wore, to you flirting with someone else to tease him, woo can do it seven days a week if he wants to.
z = zzz (how fast do they fall asleep afterwards?)
wooyoung doesn’t really get tired after sex. he wants to take care of you first before crashing. when he gets comfy after doing everything he needs, he’s all wrapped up around you and knocked the hell out.
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#ateez#ateez smut#ateez fanfic#kpop fanfic#ateez x reader#jung wooyoung smut#wooyoung x reader#wooyoung smut#atz smut#smutty smut smut#smutty fanfiction#smut alphabet#jung wooyoung#kpop smut#ateez x you
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Sweet
sin sin sin sIN SIN THIS IS SIN. please enjoy pleasuring our dear college!matt
Ship: Matt Murdock x Female!Reader
Rating: 18+ (pure filth, truly)
Wordcount: 2.7k
Warnings: smut, sexual situations, foreplay, some depressive thoughts (because i apparently can't write anything without them)
Warm.
Soft, warm, gentle, sweet. Sweeter than anything he’d tasted. Like dew that’s been licked off a cold strawberry, or the fragrant scent that wafts through the air outside of flower shops. A delicate and tender sweetness. Subtle, comforting, like the smell of home after being away for years. Such sweetness could make Matt lose himself, letting himself drift away on a current of fond smiles and warm embraces. He would allow himself to drown in the sweet taste, even if it was the last drop to pass his lips before he drifted to the ocean floor.
At the sudden loss of the warmth, the tenderness, the sweetness, Matt’s throat let out a whine of annoyance. His body moved of its own accord as he scrambled to reconnect himself to the source. Fingers tangling in silken hair. Hand bunching in a tank top. Teeth nipping at a plump, pink lower lip.
“Matt,” you sighed. The words cascaded past Matt’s tongue and down his throat, carrying a breeze filled with cherry blossoms in their wake. He could distantly feel delicate fingertips brush at his jaw. A tingling warmth trailed behind the gentle touch, only fueling his need to swallow as much sweetness as he could.
“Matt, honey. Breathe.”
Matt’s eyes fell open as he pulled away from his brief reprieve. His senses came crashing down like a cave in. All he could see was a haze of swirling oranges and reds that filled every inch in sight. Streaks of flame and blood painting the college dorm room like a canvas on fire. His cotton shirt was too tight, too scratchy. The humid air settled in his pores like an unwelcome visitor. A sudden cacophony of noise spilled into his ears through the crack under the door and the thin material of the walls. He blinked a few times to reorient.
The first inhale he allowed himself felt like a punch in the lungs. Gone was the taste of strawberries or cherry blossoms, the feeling of warmth and comfort. A sharp tang of stale alcohol plunged its way into his sinuses and left him reeling. Notes of old, worn carpet and water-damaged ceilings shoved their way through to stand side by side to overwhelm thought and feeling. Matt screwed his eyes shut, trying to recall the smell of flowers that flowed like water down his throat.
“Hey, I’m right here,” you whispered, your melodic voice brushing aside the sounds assaulting Matt’s senses. Your soft hand rested along his jaw and brought his forehead to yours. Matt could feel your breath fan across his face. Warm and gentle and sweet.
“I… I’m sorry,” Matt said. He felt naïve. The world was harsh and cold and unforgiving. He shouldn’t have let himself get carried away by the allure you unintentionally provided. The sweet ambrosia that flowed from your lips could never compete with the torrential downpour of too much all around him.
“Sorry for what?” you asked. Your fingers brushed strands of Matt’s dark hair away from his face, then trailed their way down his cheek to rest on his collarbone.
Matt opened his eyes again in a desperate attempt to see you. See anything. But all he was met with was the clouded reds and oranges that submerged the world beneath a pool of blood.
He tried to focus on where your face would be, using the brush of air currents along your seated body to understand where you were on the bed. Your head was cocked, hair falling in front of your kind eyes. Matt could tell you were looking at him. From the way your heart calmly beat behind your ribs and the pheromones that surrounded you like an aura, Matt assumed you were happy. Content.
“I got caught up in the moment,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. You chuckled at his bashfulness, the sound ringing like a small bell around Matt’s head. Hopefully he could deflect from his lapse in awareness. Of course he had to be blind and easily distracted.
“That’s not a bad thing, you know. Just gotta remember to breathe,” you said. Matt scoffed playfully at the jab. He let his hands drift down to your waist, tucking his fingers beneath the bunched-up hem of your shirt.
“I don’t know, you seem to like it when I prevent you from breathing.”
Your breath caught in your throat as your heart leapt and your face heated. A flash of the intoxicating scent that was distinctly you floated from between your legs. Matt could feel his own arousal swirling like a whirlpool in his stomach. An uncontrollable tempest begging to be released over calm waters. Despite how desperately he wanted your clothes off and you beneath him, he pulled his mouth into a cocky grin while his fingers worked their way up to your bra.
“What’s wrong? Feeling embarrassed? Or are you just remembering how good it felt when I choked you?” he purred.
That got you riled up. Your chest started heaving as your skin grew hot and clammy over your entire body. A fresh wave of wetness and delicious scent warmed the inside of your thighs. You swallowed heavily and Matt could practically feel the way the muscles in your throat moved.
But you hesitated. Your fingers stopped their soft stroking along his sensitive skin. Your breath halted just behind your soft lips. Matt’s brow furrowed as a frown tugged at the edges of his lips.
“You okay?” he asked warily. Matt forced his hands to cease in their uphill climb and placed them on your hips. Anxiety gripped at his chest. Did he misread the situation? Misread you? Did he make you uncomfortable? God, what if you finally realized you’d made a mistake in dating him? It was bound to happen, sooner or later.
“Can I be on top tonight?” you asked, as though that sentence didn’t hit him like a ton of bricks to the stomach.
“W-What?” Matt spluttered.
“These past few times you’ve been making me feel good. Really good. I want to try to return the favor,” you explained. Your nails began to pick at a stray thread on Matt’s shirt collar. Matt’s ears picked up on the uptick in your pulse. Were you… nervous?
“If you don’t want to, that's fine, you can be on top. We can also just kiss if that’s more what you’re feeling today. I don’t want to make you feel weird and-”
“Sweetheart, slow down,” Matt said, interrupting your fast-paced tangent. Your mouth clamped shut as a deep breath filled your lungs. Matt grabbed loosely at your shoulders, thumbs rubbing back and forth on your bare skin, as an easy smile fell over his face.
He gave you a few seconds to catch your breath then said, “You can be on top. I just wasn’t expecting you to ask.”
In all honesty, he wasn’t expecting you to ask. Matt’s life was a never ending learning curve of discovering that love was not guaranteed. His mother left before he was a year old, his father died when he was nine, his mentor, Stick, abandoned him at the first sign of affection. He learned long ago to not expect anything from anyone. That was the first lesson Stick had taught him.
And yet, against all odds, here you sat. An enigma if ever there was one. Offering your affection on a silver platter at Matt’s feet. A clear sign of trust, of devotion, of love.
“Okay,” you said. A relieved smile broke out across your face. You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you cleared your throat. Matt’s heart raced in time with yours. His fingers began kneading in the soft flesh at your hips.
“Lie down for me,” you said. Four words, spoken softly with the gentleness of a feather, yet they struck Matt in the chest like a wide haymaker. A sentence that carried the weight of authority and a gentle caress all in one. Suddenly all he wanted to do was follow instructions.
In a flash he had his head on the pillow, arms at his sides, breathing at an alarmingly fast rate. Anticipation burned its way through his veins and clouded his senses. The world outside the dorm room faded away. Like a memory retreating into a dense fog. Loud voices down the hall quieted into nothing, the humidity in the air evaporated, his shirt felt like the softest silk, and the scent around him. God, all he could smell was you. Your breath was like the first day of spring, your skin like rolling hills of green grass, your hair like soft strands of pure sunlight. Matt’s world was, yet again, sweet.
“Let me know if I’m making you uncomfortable,” you breathed, your lips suddenly brushing against his earlobe. Matt would have jumped had he not been so relaxed beneath your comforting presence. Your sense of calm had washed over him like a warm wave at low tide.
“I will,” Matt replied, having to use what remained of his mind to form two coherent words. A soft hum of acknowledgement rustled the baby hairs by his ear. He had just enough awareness to track you as you pressed a soft kiss under his jaw.
A sigh escaped his lips as he tilted his head back against the pillow. You smiled against his skin, rewarding the accommodation by pressing a firmer kiss into the soft skin beneath his ear. Tendrils of goodgoodgood shocked their way through his veins from where your lips connected to the sensitive skin. His breath hitched as he let his eyes fall closed.
“Good spot, I take it,” you said through a smile Matt could hear. Matt barely got out the word “yes” before you licked a broad swipe up his neck and ended at that sensitive spot. Matt’s back arched as a groan kicked its way out of his throat. His hands fisted into your tank top out of pure instinct, practically begging the source of his pleasure to stay put. Another pass of your tongue stoked the embers in his abdomen into a bonfire, flames licking their way over his damp skin.
“Sweetheart, please,” Matt begged, the words a whisper on his parted lips. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was begging for. All he knew was he never wanted you to stop.
Blunt fingernails traced the exposed skin beneath his shirt. Matt’s hips bucked up, chasing the light touch. The muscles beneath his skin jumped as you slowly, so slowly, started pushing his shirt up. It was agonizing, the feeling of your nails lightly scraping along his stomach. Each finger lit up thousands of nerve endings, each nerve ending pushing him further and further toward the edge of a steep cliff.
You pressed a soft kiss to the shell of Matt’s ear as you whispered, “Arms up, Matt.”
You could tell him to kneel at your feet for the rest of his life and he would.
Matt did the best his melted body could to help you take his shirt off. The two of you were a mess of limbs and cotton for a moment before you were able to pull the infernal garment away. Matt’s arms fell beside him like two sacks of grain. Palms as soft as calfskin ever so gently glided down his bare chest. You made sure every divot and round muscle got the attention it deserved, caressing Matt like he was the finest lace. When your pinky brushed against his nipple, a sharp hiss escaped through his teeth.
You hummed, hands retreating in their path, fingers dancing along the edges of Matt’s nipples. Matt choked out a moan, baring his neck as his back arched into your touch. Your tongue made another pass of his throat as feather-light glances of your fingers across both of his nipples chased the last coherent thoughts from Matt’s mind.
“Fuck,” Matt groaned. Every millimeter of his skin felt like it was aflame. Fire left in the wake of your gentle touch. Burning away all sense and reason until all that was left was Matt’s writhing body.
He was close. Embarrassingly so. Matt clung to the cliff’s edge by his fingertips, each kiss and caress prying his fingers off one by one. His hips moved of their own volition. He was bucking into your thigh like a dog in heat. Whines and moans flew from his glistening lips while his hands scrabbled against the sheets.
With your hands still toying at Matt’s chest, you shifted in his lap until the warm heat between your thighs settled over where his shorts had tented. A slurred string of curses and your name spilled from between his teeth. His wild grinding now dispersed your scent in the air around him. And God, there was so much. It settled into every inch of Matt’s skin until he could taste it on his tongue, feel it coat his lungs as he breathed it in.
“Sw-eetheart,” Matt choked out. He could feel his fingers falling away from the cliff in rapid succession. The precipice below him seemed to climb up the cliffside until it was just beneath his feet, tempting him to let go and plunge into its depths.
The final nail in his coffin was when you nipped at his neck, teeth closing around where his pulse flowed strongest. The air in his lungs leapt through his throat in one big gust. His unseeing eyes rolled back in his head, hands grabbing at anything in their vicinity.
Matt’s final grip on the cliff fell away, plunging him into warmth and gentleness and sweetness that surrounded him like a strong embrace. Held him tight and wove its way through every muscle in his body. A shock of white hot pleasure rolled through him like a steam train. Starting in his groin and washing over him in wave after wave of fuckyesgoodfuckkeepgoingdon’tstop. He could barely register how loud he was over the roaring in his ears. His heart pounded against his chest like an animal behind bars.
Your lips found his again and everything clicked into place. Matt lapped at your mouth like he was drinking his first glass after a month in the desert. The sweet nectar that you produced flowed down his throat and prolonged his orgasm. His hips rocked up into yours, chasing a heat that he could feel in his bones. Hands, trembling, bunched themselves in your shirt and pulled your chest flush to his.
It took several minutes for the aftershocks to calm down. Every breath, every twitching muscle made his overwhelmed senses go haywire. In his mind, the world around him was a swirling cloud of bliss. All he could hear was your breathing, all he could feel was your heartbeat against his chest, all he could taste was strawberries and cherry blossoms. He let his fingertips trail along your exposed shoulders, zeroing in on the feeling, bringing himself back to reality.
When you felt the movement, you lifted your head to look at him, “Back with us?”
A tired smile spread itself over his lips. Matt opened his eyes, the effort to lift his eyelids like lifting a dumbbell, and let his empty gaze land somewhere on your face.
“Yeah, I’m here,” he sighed. You responded by giving him a quick peck on the lips. Matt grumbled, brow furrowing, then guided your chin back up to kiss him again. You chuckled against his lips, a whisper of “ridiculous man” absorbed between your mouths. Matt relished in the familiar sweetness before letting you pull away.
“I take it you enjoyed that?” you asked. Matt gave you a solemn nod, at which you laughed. He shifted beneath you so he could attempt to meet your eyes.
“Did you like it?” he asked tentatively. He fiddled with the hem of your shirt as he waited for your answer. He hadn’t done anything for you, he just laid there and made you do all the work. What kind of boyfriend was he? Not to mention you didn’t even touch him. A few grazes of your fingers over his chest and he was done for.
“I loved it. It was fun to figure out what buttons to push,” you laughed. The tinkling tune of your laugh erased any negative thoughts Matt retained about the experience. He let his smile return, holding you tighter to his chest.
“Give me a few minutes and I’ll return the favor,” Matt said, letting that seductive edge find its way back into his voice. You shuddered on top of him. Your thighs clenched instinctively around his. You blew a stray strand of hair out of your face, attempting to mask the want clearly written on your skin.
“3 minutes, then we’re back in business.”
“Deal.”
HUGE thanks to the Murdock Tuna Team for being the inspiration for this fic. i have them to blame for the filth that fills my head on an hourly basis.
Murdock Tuna Team 🐟: @vigilxnte-shit @pastafossa @yarrystyleeza @ecxlipse @sunflowersandsapphires @amphitrite-5 @fuckyeahpommelstrike @mar-thewriter @zomtart @what-i-call-men
#charlie cox#daredevil#matt murdock#marvel#matt murdock x f!reader#matt murdock smut#college!matt murdock x f!reader#i love writing matt soooooo much#getting to play with how different sounds and smells effect him#man oh man is this guy fun to tease#murdock tuna team
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Blood running amongst us
No one had ever spoken of the waves of tingling lust running through your body caused by your lifeblood rushing from your body to the vampire’s as he felt your pulse under his lips. A sensation almost as intimate as if he was buried deep inside of your body.
Either way he had a tendency to get lost in you.
That’s what you would be going for tonight - either way.
MASTERLIST | AO3 | PART 2
Author's Note: I wanted to write some smut again when I got that request asking for Astarion receiving some sweet sweet head. And he will. But you know I wouldn't be me if it didn't completely spiral out of hand. So this willl be a hopefully nutritious three-course meal (plus dessert maybe?) - this being merely the appetizer. Gif by @cheekylittlepupp (pls follow them!)
Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You)
Warnings: explicit sexual content, foreplay, blood kink, light predator/prey dynamic, dryhumping
Wordcount: 2,1k
The day had been strenuous for all of you. Your adventures had been tiring before you had entered the cursed Shadowlands but now it had taken on a wholly new quality of exhausting.
All of it weighed especially heavy on Astarion it seemed, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. Not only was the fact that he was once more surrounded by darkness the cause of a perpetuous knot in his stomach but there was nearly nothing here to keep him fed. It was more than just an uneasy feeling that had become his continuous companion roaming these godsforsaken lands.
His usually glinting crimson eyes seemed to have lost their sparkle and the dark circles around them seemed deeper than you had ever seen them before. His behaviour had become a lot more skittish again too: eyes flitting around as if he feared his old master could await around every corner now.
It made your chest clench in agony to see him like that. Especially since he had opened up a little about his past and what pain it had meant to become and be a vampire.
Now he'd barely begun to enjoy a bit of sunlight and freedom again, only to be thrown back into the shadows. Like a flower that had just sprung up only to be wilting away so quickly again.
You wouldn't let that happen. You swore it silently to yourself as you kept watching the man that had managed to make your heart stir, despite everything.
Not that you had planned to fall for the pale elf that had grazed your neck with a blade the first time you'd met. It hadn't exactly been love at first sight. And now you didn’t quite know how you would ever tell him. But all gods above and below be damned, you would rip your own heart out and hand it to him on a silver platter if only it meant, Astarion would be safe and happy.
But thankfully this wasn’t yet needed - a bit of blood this far had sufficed to nurture him. And you had an idea how to make him at least temporarily forget some of the worries he so obviously was carrying around with himself.
Immediately when your party set up camp for the night you sauntered over to your vampire, dragging him into his tent telling him that he should feed on you. You would make sure to take some of the worry off him - make him feel happy.
“My, aren’t you a little too desperate to get my fangs sunk into your neck, darling?” Astarion teased, one eyebrow lifted. His tone sounded a little flat compared to his usual flamboyant manner. But he still obviously wouldn’t reject your generous offer. You laid down on his bedroll like you were used to from all the times before to let the vampire climb on top of you so he could easily access your graciously offered neck.
It had become a well practised ritual between the two of you. All steps meticulously planned out and followed through. You were laying on your back, trying to stay relaxed. But an exhilarating mix of anticipation and some kind of primal fear took hold of you like usual. Your hands became a little clammy and your fingers began to tap a nervous tune as you watched Astarion kneel down beside you. After all, you were about to hand yourself over to a mortal predator.
For now though, it was merely the anticipation nearly killing you - or was there something else to it?
If you were honest with yourself, it was more than instinctual fear that made the pace of your heart pick up. The whole process was - as you had quickly found out - incredibly intimate and titillating; despite - or rather because of - the pain.
You knew that as much, if not more, was true for the vampire as well. In fact, it was often quite evident - and not only because he enjoyed taking his time when he saw you already quivering beneath you.
Not uncommonly after Astarion had taken enough of your blood to keep up his strength did the tension in the air become overwhelming and lead to both your bodies entangling further and a night was quickly wasted away wrapped up fully in each other.
For now though he had you pinned to the ground beneath him with the way his knee slid between your legs, one hand next to your head and the other gently wandering over the delicate skin of your throat. Cool, smooth fingers wrapped around the back of your neck to steady you for him - one by one.
His grip was firm. You knew his fingers would soon dig into your soft flesh even harder - as soon as his instincts at least partially took the better of him. It was those moments that had your heart gallop near to collapse: knowing what he was while you were fully assured that Astarion was very well capable of keeping the reins on himself firmly.
The vampire hovered over you as you watched him close in on you, your heart beat tumbling. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips.
His angelic face above you could have been enough to forget everything else-
But you mustn’t lose track of your objective - he was the sole focus tonight. As hard as it was with Astarion’s crimson eyes already devouring you as he bared his fangs right above where your racing heart beat showed him where his lifeline laid.
You wrapped your arms gently around him when he leaned into you. Some of his bodyweight settled down comfortably on you, rendering you fully immovable. You didn’t mind in the slightest as he pressed you down to the ground.
And as soon as Astarion’s thigh pressed between your legs, brushing against your core as he pinned you down more, coherent thoughts evaporated.
People had always only taught you to run from the big bad monster. No one had ever told you what might happen if you ever got caught. No one had ever mentioned the thrilling sensation of being in the monster’s grasp, feeling its grip tighten around you. No one had ever spoken of the intense pleasure between the two heartbeats of fangs grazing your skin and them sinking in, the breath that was held and the muscles that tensed.
No one had ever spoken of the waves of tingling lust running through your body caused by your lifeblood rushing from your body to the vampire’s as he felt your pulse under his lips. A sensation almost as intimate as if he was buried deep inside of your body.
Either way he had a tendency to get lost in you.
That’s what you would be going for tonight - either way.
Right now you felt the familiar shot of pain echo through you that quickly turned into this icy, numbing sensation that felt weirdly pleasant. A soft mewl left your lips as Astarion began drinking your blood. He could always feel how your heartbeat quickened even more as he indulged in your exquisite and generous offering of blood. The taste was promisingly and uniquely you, nothing would ever compare to this.
For a few long moments the tent was filled with nothing but soft moans and whimpers. Something you hoped would linger when Astarion would’ve had his share of blood from you to keep up his strength.
So - time to set up a trap on your own.You let your hands softly wander over his back, pressing down gently so he would lower himself fully onto you. And when he quickly let himself be roped in by you and your tender offer, you made your hips roll into him, eliciting a groan from Astarion as he was still buried in your neck.
You were delighted by the friction it caused. Every tiny bit of traction made the coil in your lower body wind tighter - until this alone could have become your undoing.
And to your satisfaction you clearly felt the vampire’s desire already manifest too. Only hesitantly had Astarion admitted to you how arousing the whole act felt for him. How he hadn’t be prepared for the primitive lust it caused him to have you like this, to taste you. And how it had taken every last ounce of his self-control that first night he’d drunk your blood to not take you right then and there until you would have been nothing but an overstimulated, drained whimpering mess.
Now he embraced this sensation and latched onto it deliberately.
His hardening length was pressing against your stomach now with the way you worked on eliminating even the last bit of space in between you. Instinctively and subconsciously he began slowly grinding into you. You coaxed him on with breathless, almost obscene gasps and moans spilling from you and rolling your hips against him again and again. Effectively grinding on his thigh between your legs.
The two of you stayed like this in this unbelievably intimate embrace, lewdly writhing against each other as you offered Astarion the life force he needed.
He could have kept living off meagre critters. But getting to indulge in your exquisite, incomparable taste heightened the pleasure and sensation tenfold for the vampire - the difference between merely surviving and enjoying life and all the sinful pleasures it had to offer to the fullest.
A whole eternity passed as you felt Astarion’s fingertips dig harder and harder into your neck - just as you had wished for. Only part of the beast within the vampire was unleashed - the part that enjoyed playing and teasing and made it enjoyable for both of you. The delicious pain added onto the hazy, floaty numbness spreading through your body and made your eyes roll back. The moan that drifted off your lips was immediately answered by Astarion with another groan of his own. The faint metallic scent of your blood filled the air.
You felt his rock hard cock drag along you. You were already desperately longing for it.
But this was first and foremost about your vampire tonight.
He bucked his hips into you harder now, almost losing control. But Astarion always remained having the upper hand in the end.
When he finally withdrew from you, you saw how the pupils in his eyes were diluted. Giving him more animalistic than humanoid air. The creature within him was barely in check.
He licked a last trickle of blood off his lips as he sat up again, sitting back on his legs. And with the gesture you saw him regain some of his composure, the man getting a hold on his more primal side again.
Your heart hammered against your rib cage as you observed Astarion. You got up onto your elbows at first and then sat up while the vampire took deep breaths, trying to find the anchor within him again. A massive bulge was clearly outlining against his pants.
Astarion’s crimson eyes wandered slowly up your body. Surely your arousal must be visible too, you already felt your nipples press against your shirt and how sweat made it stick to your torso.
“You’re playing dangerous games, my sweet love,” Astarion murmured, sounding breathless despite his lack of needing respiration. One of his hands was clawing into his knee, the grip slowly loosening the more breaths he took. With his other he tried to capture an escaped drop of your blood before it would be lost. He surely couldn’t be accused of letting anything go to waste.
As you gazed upon him, you saw that some of the vigour he’d recently been missing had returned to him. Which was most prominently evident by his cock achingly straining against his pants.
Your eyes dropped to it and your tongue darted out to wet your lips subconsciously.
“Maybe I enjoy that,” you replied firmly, catching his gaze and holding it while you crawled over to him. He smirked softly at you as you prowled closer.
“Proceed at your own caution then, darling,” he replied, purring the last word. You hummed contentedly, smiled and pressed an almost chaste kiss to his soft lips. It felt almost innocent after what you had just engaged in. He kissed you back just as lightly.
And when you had lured him with your gentle caress, you pushed him back by his shoulders, making him fall backwards.
The vampire gasped curtly but was already smirking lasciviously at you as you roamed closer with a grin that bared your teeth - as if the roles were reversed now.
He’d fallen right into your trap.
You had brought him to an edge once already this night.
You would take him to another - and then beyond.
~~~
Part 2
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the counterpart
• chapter 1 — a welcome threatening stir
rating: explicit. please don’t skip straight to (future) smut parts though, i’m currently learning chess just for this fic /hj
word count: 4,5k
pairing: viktor x fem!reader (no use of ‘y/n’)
cw: alcohol, occasional cussing, reader is a smoker (she plays chess and lives in the 90s, how do you expect her to have healthy lungs in these conditions?). a LOT of tension, viktor is a certified brat tamer. i think that’s it — please come yell at me if i missed anything. basically just a silly little chess rivals (sort of) au.
i am finally writing this multichapter and i hope it will be a fun read for you and an excellent torture for me. i have a vision but i don’t know how to make shit perfectly executed. we’ll see how this goes. an ao3 link will be added later. any feedback is highly appreciated.
part 2
⸻
You weren’t obsessed with him.
Nor with the way his tongue would click against his teeth so astutely irritating — a gesture you grew to define as some brief foreplay before the mentioned appendage touched his palate precisely one torturous time, whispering a victorious ‘check’. Nor with the crease dissecting his forehead — a rare occasion you managed to grasp only twice: the first time being your failed attempt to capture his queen, and the second — a recent one, at that — being the foolish way you’ve lost a freshly promoted rook: concurrently the most humiliating way to jeopardize an intellectual sparring.
You weren’t obsessed with his bizarre contemplative humming, nor with his Czech last name — needless to mention the disheveled mayhem of dark hair: Viktor was but a mere enigma you fancied to occasionally demerge — sneakily, patiently, with a positive passion to it. Habitually in the private ambiance of either his or your dorm room, though, more commonly, his — something about it simply screamed peace, as contradictory as that sounds. Sweetly quiet, relatively neat, with the never properly made bed being the only truly concerning mess in it.
His apartment looked like the embodiment of a grandmaster’s mind, and it certainly had every chance of belonging to one at some point: if only he had kept up with those meticulous tactics you were (secretly) so jealous of.
"Envy is a waste of time," he unkindly reminded you one particularly languid evening. "You should pursue ways to expand your knowledge—not to contract it with such trivialities."
That reproach got into your ambitious head. Call it a reality check or a simple first impression (since that encounter happened to be the first one you two had shared).
Though, could someone really blame you? You didn’t need humbling. Well, not any more of that crude kind, at the very least: the local college chess club had more than enough of it to offer. You could consume their disdain for weeks and it still wouldn’t make them run out of it — they had plenty in stock specifically for women. That much became obvious the second you'd appeared in front of those arrogant, prejudiced fools. You stepped in there innocently hoping to enroll, but stormed off with a genuine intention to commit homicide — manslaughter, to be precise, and god weren’t you going to be merciful.
‘You can’t enroll without a rating,’ hissed that bespectacled, caricaturely tall boy — all heavily starched collar, a stupid checkered tie, and a greasy strand of dirty blonde hair plastered across his forehead.
Bullshit, you thought, gathering every last ounce of your forced politeness, who needs a rating to enroll in a fucking college chess club?
‘We don’t accept amateurs,’ assented his just as grimy interlocutor, his expression a tad more bearable. ‘Please, leave,’ he demanded, lancing your face with his hostile eyes.
Well, it’s a good thing you accept ill-mannered bastards, you almost muttered, feeling both fists clench hard into white-knuckled disasters.
And perhaps you were even willing to negotiate, to have their best players all lined up in front of you — each waiting for a turn to be relentlessly put in his place by you. And you would certainly show them — quick, efficient, and dangerous. You would force them into submission, professionally so, in a way that would make them all wonder whether the next Judit Poglar has decided to bless them with her presence.
Because, sure; you were certainly many things — an excellent mind, a trickster, a fanatic, but that list never included an amateur. The mere audacity of them to insult you in such a way — and without even sparing you one game of chess — was, frankly, deeply humiliating.
So you decided to let your pride win. You walked out of that damned club with an ostentatious huff, muffling their demeaning, misogynistic brouhaha with your heels — an addendum to your passive-aggressive ‘good luck, gentlemen’.
They didn’t want you — fine, whatever, you didn’t want them either. You’ll find yourself a counterpart soon — not any less intelligent, and, most importantly, very respectful. They’ll come crawling back to you once you gain a rating, mourning their loss and pathetically begging for sweet mercy. You could already imagine the holes they'd rub in the fine fabric of their dress pants from all the kneeling you’d make them do.
Besides, Jayce had already promised to introduce you to someone decent. ‘He’s sweet,’ he assured you, a friendly arm wrapped around your tense shoulder. ‘Incredibly smart,’ he proceeded with his wholehearted praise, proud grin so wide the corners of his mouth must've hurt. ‘Somewhat awkward,’ he mused, raising one eyebrow in consideration, ‘though, I’m not entirely sure if it’s awkwardness, per se, Viktor is simply… pensive.’
Viktor. Your eyes squeezed shut, offering your restless imagination a brief opportunity to brainstorm. A competent, pensive, and sweet chess lover: what is his temper like? Does he have a FIDE rating yet? What if he’s already playing professionally? Perhaps he even has a title?
Jayce’s next comment didn’t offer you much help though.
‘He’s handsome too,’ he whispered, a shit-eating smirk instantly leaving his pleased face. Elbows become offensive weapons between the ribs of unfortunate matchmakers, you see.
Either way: the deal was sealed. You were going to meet Viktor the next chance you get, and Jayce’s upcoming birthday has provided you with precisely that convenience.
It still happened rather spontaneously — you can’t mentally prepare yourself for an encounter you're not quite sure what to expect of. Sure, Jayce’s complaisant flattery was still at your service — a source not exactly reliable, yet somewhat welcome nonetheless: but only because you lacked any additional information about this Viktor persona.
But you decided not to upset a dear friend on his birthday. Acting like Jayce was bearable to be around was a part of your gift, after all.
Unfortunately, him being born on an awfully steamy July day wasn’t helping you accomplish that. You squinted, drowning a glass of that disgustingly warm bourbon, a couple of melted ice cubes in it slightly diluting the once-rich taste of liquor. The man of the hour had quickly dissolved into a mess of infuriatingly noisy people after only reserving you a quick hello, shiny eyes already evidently tipsy — either from all the attention or the contentious quality of the booze this bar had to offer.
You didn’t dare to complain. The tab was on a birthday boy, and you knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. Knew better, yet kept staring right at Jayce’s laughing physiognomy, his grin so blindingly toothy it had you regretting ever sojourning this feast of life. Not that you despised attending birthday celebrations, but a cramped bar, a cheap drink, and not a single minute spent with the man you came here for weren’t exactly your ideal perception of said… festivity. Not to mention that Viktor was terribly late — though your darling mutual acquaintance was in no state to properly introduce you two anyway. You slipped off your bar stool, rubbing an erratic little pattern into the weary skin of each heavy eyelid — but the sleepiness didn’t magically dissolve under the persistent pressure of your fingers. If there existed a thing you hated more than cocky men and bad booze — feeling hot had to be next on the loathing list. And this awful place had kindly reminded you of precisely that long-forgotten hatred, all sticky air melting your brain into a dysfunctional mush.
Somehow, you managed to find an exit before the headache became borderline unbearable, letting the evening greet you with a chilly slap on precisely that slick spot where your damp blouse kept clinging to your sweaty back. Summer sure was relentless this year — the outdoors didn’t offer you much of that crispy gentle breeze, but it was still not nearly as suffocating as inside that grimy shelter for drunks.
Your shaky hands slid inside your pockets, frantically fumbling with their contents: glistening candy wrappers, a bunch of keys, and a fistful of coins. Took you long enough to finally feel the shape of your old lighter, its spark wheel so terribly rusty the callus on your thumb started stinging the second you laid it on that rough little bump.
With a sigh, you fetched a folded pack of Camel out of the same stuffed sack, the state of said poor thing utterly matching its owner — all ruffled and messy, its bottom barely intact. Well, fine, perhaps that last trait was not precisely pertinent to you, but your rear was hurting quite palpably after sitting on that awfully uncomfortable stool — which meant that relating to your poor box of cancer sticks was inevitable.
The spark wheel gave in after a few insistent pushes, and within seconds you were taking your first greedy drag, back pressed tightly against the cool wall. The filth filled your lungs with sweet relief, and you let that sedation slowly run through your veins, squeezing the filter in an affectionate little embrace of trembling fingers.
And then your private moment was ruined. But not abruptly in the slightest, with just one simple call of your name – the most careful of all interventions, surprisingly quizzical and polite, heavily accented at the edge of its last syllable. Had you choking ungracefully on your tiny nicotine snack, filling the silence with awfully inelegant coughing.
“Apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you,” spoke your pensive intruder, making your back cling off the wall in one unsubtle movement.
That’s how all meaningful encounters happen. Unfailingly when you least expect them, or, even worse — when you stop expecting them entirely, every thought banished from your utterly relaxed mind. They sneak up on you under shitty bars, giving you a slight vertigo and then offering a polite smile to make amends, gripping the handles of their canes with pent-up awkwardness. And god were they peculiar intrusions — matching your silly, much too improper manner to wear corporate clothes to a night out, with just a few buttons of their tight vest undone; limbs lanky, but not inept, eyes brimming with pretty copper right onto your astonished frame. Made you randomly aware of chipped nail polish and messy hair with just the mere presence of their flawlessness: you knew you were facing a tease before you even managed to acknowledge his appearance, brows curiously raising in a cautious attempt of a greeting.
“Well, you did startle me,” was the first thing to leave your mouth after the coughing assault had ended, lips stretching lazily into an involuntary grin. “How do you know my name?”
His eyes — oh those big shiny tormentors — widened in surprise, and a sinewy hand crawled somewhat haphazardly up his chest, fingers caught the knot of a red tie to pull on it firmly. To either adjust it or to make the clearing of a tender throat easier — you couldn’t quite place it, yet still watched him in silent awe, tasting the bitterish taste of tobacco on the tip of your tongue.
“Well,” he parroted your tone with sharp accuracy and proceeded with distinguished sass, “I believe a certain someone had introduced us to each other… in absentia, so to speak.”
Oh. So that was your new charming counterpart? Bravo, Jayce — there was actually something truthful about your flattery for once.
“For I am Viktor, in case you’re still confused,” he obligingly reminded, abandoning his brief fidgeting with the tie to offer you a handshake.
You gulped, almost extending a dominant arm to accept it, but some weird foreboding had once convinced you that to twine your cigarette-scented fingers with a stranger would be somehow perceived as crude — and so you clumsily caught his palm with your other, less nimble limb. Let the heat of his touch engrave into your hand, eyes swirling the tiny mole above that defined cupid’s bow, making you feel stupid for stealing that innocent of a peek. Had you forgetting about the cigarette as your mouth fell open in oblivious awe, almost dropping a decent bridge of ashes on his pretty shoes.
Regaining your lost composure, you managed to introduce yourself in a manner similar to his — not that it was necessary since he seemed to remember what to call you exactly, but the gesture still felt right — you had vowed to treat people with politeness and liked to think that it was going quite well for you.
“So,” he uttered somewhat approbatory, withdrawing his hand from your tender clasp, “normally I don’t… tutor. But Jayce was rather insistent that I try — and he’d also assured me that you’re quite passionate about the subject.”
You huffed, letting out an undefinable sound of confusion. Not without a mixture of evident irritation to it, if you were to be frank — but that was entirely justified. A tutor? Is that how Jayce took it?
“I’m not looking for a tutor,” you sassed matter-of-factly, angrily inhaling from your cigarette. “I’m looking for a counterpart. What makes you think that you’re competent enough to teach me anything at all?” you inquired with sheer hostility, watching him go limp in silent panic.
You had vowed to treat people with politeness and didn’t care if it wasn’t going well for you anymore. Quite a drastic change of plans, to be honest.
“Oh, I am not claiming that,” Viktor rushed to object, and the way a few strands of hair started treacherously shaking when he wagged his head almost caused you to crack a pretentious smirk. But he quickly soothed the unkempt curl and proceeded with his explanation, “I was simply told you might need some help. Why the unnecessary attitude?”
“Because you were told wrong,” you practically spat the smoke into his face, lips smacking together with an audible pop. It made his beautiful nose wrinkle, entertaining you with an ungainly attempt to wave the livid cloud away.
“And that’s my fault… how, exactly?” he mumbled with an utterly puzzled glare, and you scoffed in silent rejoicement, leaning slightly closer to divert yourself with more of his emotiveness.
“You should have paid more attention to what Jayce told you,” you dodged his rhetorical question, paying it no mind whatsoever. Though later, when you'd reminisce about this exact conversation — your own audacity would make you wonder how Viktor managed to refrain from slapping you across the face. The shitty booze must have turned out not so shitty after all — it sure gave you the nerve, and you were holding onto it a bit too tightly.
But your new companion didn’t take that well. His thick eyebrow protruded into a furious arc, lips twitching slightly at the outburst you were so pathetically proud of. His hands returned to the handle of his cane as if getting ready to turn it into a weapon — and he leaned his whole body weight on it with a displeased gasp, accented voice obtaining a lower, more threatening edge to it.
He’s sweet, you scoffed, ready to press your forehead against his like an uncivilized animal. It’s not like you were acting holier anyway.
Well, at least Jayce didn’t lie about the handsome part.
“I’ll have you know that I was, indeed, paying attention,” he hissed through gritted teeth, “and if you wish to quibble over the words that don't even belong to me — be my absolute guest, but do not expect me to align with your enthusiasm and partake in useless insults.”
He cleared his throat again, evidently reluctant to indulge in whatever spectacle you were so clearly asking for. That man didn’t deserve your resentment, but now you certainly deserved his, and so you backed off, fingers twitching as they curdled around your cigarette for one last awkward drag, lashes fluttering with palpable nervousness.
“I was told you needed a tutor — and I sincerely apologize if your request was miscomprehended,” Viktor sighed, and you blinked at him in baffled reverence. Wishing oh so desperately to burn your trouble-seeking tongue with your smoldering tobacco stick.
“No, I…” you gasped in response, but Viktor held a soothing hand up, stopping you from puking out more of that guilty incoherent nonsense.
“Please, allow me to finish,” he demanded, and you obeyed — a mere culpable inch away from accidentally swallowing the filter filling your mouth with the sharp savor of smoke.
And your submission was appreciated right away.
“So, as I was saying,” Viktor returned to his lecture with a distinguished cough, “I’m sorry if your request was miscomprehended. But it certainly wasn’t miscomprehended by me, which makes your reaction somewhat… unfair, don’t you think?”
“Yes,” you yielded, nodding in weak agreement. “Yes, totally unfair.”
“To say the least,” he was quick to add, emphasizing the last word.
“To say the least,” you parroted in response — just like a tamed misbehaving brat. And that’s precisely what you were — humbled, put in your place, and sorry. You were sorry, and it made you quiver as you timidly chewed on the inside of a half-eaten cheek, frantically counting the scrapes on your shoes. Anything to escape the gentle orbs stripping you off your very flesh in an attempt to find something even you doubted was still there: some prudence.
“With that being said,” Viktor summarized, and you heard a resonant click of his cane against the concrete, “I suggest you take out your anger on someone actually responsible for the incorrect wording.”
You dared to abandon your defeated position, head tilting slightly upwards to witness his departure — just as languid as this disastrous evening — no offense to Jayce and his special day, of course.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He smiled, politely nodding to the establishment behind you, “I still have to wish that someone a happy birthday.”
So that’s how you lose both a battle and a war. He’d just taught you a valuable lesson — and here you were, so appalled at the idea of being tutored. Oh how the tables have turned.
You reached out a hand for him, preliminarily putting out that damned cigarette to the sole of your messy shoe. Grazed his shoulder with a fleeting touch, ever so cowardly unsure if you were even allowed such a luxury in these conditions. But he showed you some mercy — allowed it to linger there, slightly dipped into the curvature of his clavicle. Frowning with the look of a man who’d put you in a checkmate before even pulling out a chessboard.
“Viktor, I’m sorry,” you muttered with the most sincere remorseful look your face could master, “I’m terribly sorry, actually. I shouldn’t have—“ But he interrupted you, eyes drifting playfully to the hand that was still invading his precious privacy. “Oh, shit,” you cussed under your breath, hastily pulling it back as if it was leprotic, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—“
“Please, continue,” he insisted softly. Gave you a few seconds to finish crumbling into stupid tipsy pieces and stepped back, all of his attention focused on your earnest apology.
Oh, never mind, someone please scratch the ‘showed you some mercy’ part.
“I was rude,” you confessed (as if it wasn’t obvious enough already). “Unacceptably so. I’m not exactly… good with social cues — but it’s no excuse, I should never have said that. Especially within the first five minutes of meeting you.” The words were flowing out of your mouth so naturally — surprisingly smooth for someone who normally takes three to five business days to come up with a proper atonement (or even admit the necessity of one for starters).
“Do you think I could… make it up to you?” You struck him with your most pitiable arrow — the one you were saving up for the rare occasions when you actually wanted to atone for the damage, pretty eyes seeking his forgiveness with a sporadic, perplexed blink. But they found none: instead, he frowned, hummed in consideration, and proceeded to torment you with silence for a few more everlasting seconds, making you softly sink your teeth into the edge of your nail and scrape some polish off of it. You instantly squinted at the awful chemical taste, and Viktor finally surrendered.
You’d realize it was your first time hearing him laugh much later. It was, indeed, a thing to remember — all raspy, and strangely domestic, anything but malicious or willing to destroy you further. And yes — technically, he was laughing at you, but if that’s what you’d get every time this man filled the air with that soft sound — you may as well become a circus employee just to figure out how to make him emit more of it.
“All is forgiven,” he assured you, shaking his head, “the second you made that face, actually. But no more of that, please. If that’s how you plead, I’m afraid someday I might forgive you something utterly unacceptable.”
He’s sweet, you sighed, an unsure smile returning to your face once again.
Perhaps you should start listening to Jayce every now and then.
Viktor was quick to interrupt your pondering. “But back to your request,” he mused. “A counterpart — is that what you need? Why not join a chess club, then?”
His question didn’t mean any harm, and he was obviously inquiring out of sheer curiosity, yet it still made you feel a bit diminished. Not by him, of course — just by those arrogant fucks who dared to deny you their sportsmanship.
Perhaps they would be willing to reconsider if they saw your behavior tonight?
You sighed, shrugging it off. “I tried to. They didn’t let me because I'm unrated.”
“Really? Well, that’s just strange... Since when does one need a rating for it?” His confusion was genuine, eyes widening drastically as if he’d just heard the biggest absurdity of his entire life.
“That’s what I said,” you whined in the tone of a natural gossip girl, almost ready to chain-smoke the entire rest of your pack now that you were reminded of your misery.
“I see.” Viktor hummed, stroking a thumb over his sharp chin in deep scrutiny. “I’m certain I’ve never heard them demand a rating for enrollment before. A club is not a tournament, after all.”
“Wait, are you a member of our chess club?” Your voice pitched up in realization, but Viktor didn’t quite catch on to your astonishment.
“Yes,” he dryly confirmed, “yes, I am. Not that I spend much time there, though — those gentlemen are simply… how do I put it politely? Mediocre. Incompetent. I don’t like careless opponents — what’s the point in playing them if you can picture how exactly you can win within seconds?”
Within seconds. You froze in apparent disbelief, trying to figure out whether he was bluffing. Tensely awaiting something — anything — that might've indicated a joke. But not a single muscle on his pale face twitched into a smile — he’d responded with a look as awfully inquisitive as yours, unsure of what exactly you expected him to do.
So he does mean it. In that case, he’s either very full of himself — or these boys are, in fact, that hopeless at chess. And something kept telling you that it most likely was the latter.
“I’m jealous then. I suppose.” You offered him a safe answer, thoughtlessly toying with your rusty lighter.
“Don’t be,” he countered. “Envy is a waste of time. You should pursue ways to expand your knowledge — not to contract them with such trivialities.”
Bold of him to assume that you might envy his skills. Well, yes — you were definitely beaming with envy, but he didn’t need to know that just yet.
You snorted, almost letting that toxic conceit take over whatever pieces of common sense Viktor had just punched back into you — and his words dwelled, slinking through your skull, filling you not with thirst for vengeance, but with inspiration. It gave you some time to form a decent comeback, but you didn't use it wisely, playfully rolling your eyes at his discreet lecture instead.
“I don’t envy your tactics,” you informed him, gracefully holding your head up, “I'm just jealous you have someone to show them to.”
And that boy smiled again, forcing your light vertigo to return — but this time it had nothing to do with tipsiness.
“So do you,” he whispered and watched you derail with the most victorious countenance known to a man. Reminding you nonchalantly that he doesn’t need a single chess piece to have you in a stalemate. That muggy bar might’ve offered you the experience of being trapped in a figurative, impossibly narrow coffin, but Viktor’s presence was the thing that truly made you feel like an actual cadaver — all empty thoughts, and stiffness, and skipped heartbeats. Positively so.
But Jayce forgot to mention that your new competitor was also deeply laconic.
“Meet me in the library next… Friday, if you’re available?” He wasn’t generous enough to offer you any more seconds on recovering from this exchange, impatiently expecting a confirmation. You could only manage a non-verbal one, nodding weakly.
“Say… somewhere around noon?” He mused, and you instantly nodded again, obligingly waiting for his next suggestion. What a pleasure it is to do business with you!
“Perfect,” he snatched the words out of your mouth, already half-turned to the bar entrance, “Please bring your board, and I shall bring the clocks… Yes, the library should suffice — it’s not like a game of chess requires much conversation anyway. Now, please, do excuse me — I really need to steal Jayce away for a minute.”
You watched him vanish into that devilish and utterly unfitting for a man of his kind place, eyes nailing into his back as the crowd of feasting people swallowed your new interlocutor. Letting an excited little breath slip past your open mouth, escorting him with an uncoordinated wave of a shaky hand — a rather silly, excessive gesture since he didn't witness it and yet it still felt right — like a perfect little goodbye to strengthen this newfound friendship with.
That’s how you met your counterpart — or, rather, that’s what you used to see in him back then.
What you were still oblivious to was that this man would conquer you in many more capacities than just the game that brought you together.
⸻
tags (please let me know if you’d like to be added to them) : @zaunitearchives @blissfulip
#viktor arcane#viktor x reader#viktor fanfic#viktor x f!reader#arcane fanfic#viktor smut#*throws this thing at you and vanishes*#the cunterpart
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I've been thinking about fem/gn reader losing their virginity to kaeya, venti and kaveh... But maybe they accidentally get hurt and have to stop? I wanna know how they'd act when something like that happens (:
a/n: I love this kind of prompt <3 here you go anon! I'm slowly trying to fight writer's block so its only headcanons and not drabbles but I tried my best. sadly there's no venti because i dont really feel comfortable writing suggestive or nsfw things with him (i know i got your request before changing my rules so you did nothing wrong. sorry for the inconvenience). and remember everyone: a yes can turn into a no at any moment, and that's completely fine. consent is key. also I think that my love for kaveh shows in this one because his part is twice kaeya's one
warnings: it's not graphic smut but sex is mentioned so don't read if you're uncomfortable with that. no mentions of protections (make sure use them irl)
♡Kaeya♡
I imagine Kaeya being a super sex positive person, like for him sex is not a big deal as long as there's respect for the other person
so he was probably ready to have sex with you since you started dating 💀
but of course he didn't push you, he waited for you to be ready to have your first time with him
one time you have dinner at his place and an heated make up sessions evolves in discarding eachother clothes
he asks for your consent like 100 times while you two move to the bedroom
he knows how important foreplay is, so he makes sure to prepare you for the main act
then he slowly pushes himself in, an heavy breath leaving his lips as he hides his face in your neck, his arms supporting him so he doesn’t put all of his weight on you
you immediately feel uncomfortable
the stretch feels too much and its almost painful
at first you think it's normal but it doesn't go away even after he begins to gently trust in you
if anything, it gets worse, but he fails to notice tour discomfort
tears start to spill from your eyes as you put your hands on kaeya chest and tell him to stop
he immediately freezes, concern and guilt flooding his face
"Can I pull out?"
you nod and he backs away from your body, opting to sit back to give you some space
"Did it hurt? Did I do something wrong? Should I go get you anything?"
he listens to you as you try to explain him how you felt
he goes getting a warm cloth to gently clean you up before embracing you in his arms
he feels really bad for not having noticed your discomfort sooner
you tell him that's its fine, you thought you were ready but maybe you were too nervous
you two keep talking about it for a while until you fall asleep
after that for a while he's a bit reluctant to try again because he doesn't want to hurt you
but when you tell him that you really want to take this step with him, he finally agrees
expect 3 hours of foreplay
♡Kaveh♡
now now
sweet kaveh loves to spoil you, taking you out to have dinner and go shopping
however his wallet does not enjoy it as much as he does
so you often have dates where you just go for a walk together or have a picnic
it's during one of those dates that he casually mentions the subject of sex
now, he doesn’t want to force you but he loves you so much and the idea of you two doing that together looks amazing to him
the conversation its not meant to push you, but rather to offer you an occasion to talk about it together and see if you feel the same about him
when you tell him you're ready (be it that same date or after years) he gets so excited
he can't believe you're going to share the magic moment of your first time with him of all people
he probably asks you if you two can go at your place since he doesn't want alhaitham around
once you two get down to business, he's the sweetest guy ever
he kisses every single inch of your body, basically worshipping you
makes sure to keep eye contact with you most of the time so he can notice if anything is wrong
after the foreplay, he lets you get on top of him, straddling his lap while his back is propped up by some pillows
he wants you to be the one in charge so you can choose the pace of events
the moment you lower yourself on him, he knows something is wrong
yes, he does feel a lot of pleasure from finally being inside of you, but he doesn't miss the face you make
when after a few seconds he sees tears pooling in your eyes he has the confirmation of his suspects
he immediately grabs your hips and pulls you up, making you sit on his thighs before comfortly rubbing your arms and shoulders
"What's wrong baby?"
he's so gentle with you, holding you close while you sniffle in his neck, hands resting on his chest
he strokes your hair and reassures you that you don't have to do anything if you're not ready, that he'd wait a thousand years for you, that he loves you as much as before, that sex is not the important thing in your relationship
he waits for you to calm down before asking you what exactly you think went wrong
if you tell him you want to try again he's completely fine with it, but he becomes even more attentive and gentle, making sure that this time you'll be able to enjoy it
#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader smut#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader fluff#genshin smut#genshin fluff#kaeya smut#kaeya x reader#kaeya fluff#kaveh smut#kaveh x reader#kaveh x reader smut#kaveh x reader fluff#kaveh fluff#kaeya x reader smut#kaeya x reader fluff
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What The Heart Desires ❤️💚 (BakuKiriMina x Black!F!Reader 18+ Short Fic)

❤️💚❄️❤️💚❄️❤️💚❄️❤️💚❄️

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Kirishima Ejirou x Mina Ashido x Black!Fem!Reader
Synopsis: In which two lonely-hearted girls make a wish on a star one Christmas Eve for their hearts’ desires: a Daddy Dom. What they don’t expect that night after their annual Christmas party is to receive that wish in two. When their very special party guests and secret crushes show up unannounced at their door proclaiming their romantic feelings and that these two cuties are theirs, what will our two lonely hearts do? Will they have to choose?
Tags: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Pro!KiriBakuMina (Late 20s-Early 30s); Bimbo!sub!Mina x Bimbo!sub!Reader; Dom!KiriBaku; Fantasy; Comedy; Size Difference; Aphrodisiac; Dubcon/R*pe; Body/Chest Worship; Scar Appreciation; Foreplay; Messy Kissing; Spit Play; Cum Play; S*x w/ S*x Toys; Anal Play; Spanking; Choking; Hair-Pulling; Degradation/Praise; Daddy Kink; DDLG; Mild BDSM; Oral (Giving & Receiving); Slutifcation; Objectification; Multiple Positions (Doggystyle, Missionary, Daisy Chain, etc.); Polyamorous; Everyone Is Bi; Mutual Os; Creampies; Ownership; Aftercare
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
Writer’s Note: This chapter contains MAJOR SMUT AND NASTY SHIT. GO TOUCH GRASS AFTERWARDS. LOVE YOU! 🥰 -Jazz
Chapters: ONE. TWO. THREE. FOUR. FIVE. SIX. BONUS CHAPTER.
❤️💚❄️❤️💚❄️❤️💚❄️❤️💚❄️
SIX: NAUGHTY, NICE OR SLUTTY?
As the night stretches on, the cold wind blows and the snow falls outside. But you and Mina aren’t worried about any calls for a blizzard tonight.
Right now, you’re too busy burning from the intense arousal that your Daddies and adoring pro heroes are giving you as they lay you down in front of the blazing fireplace. The Christmas lights on the tree twinkle, illuminating Bakugou and Kiri’s impressive physiques in green, red, and white.
They are truly the most perfect Christmas gifts, worthy of being under your tree every year…if you’ve been good, of course. But you know that these pros aren’t looking for good girls tonight.
They want two slutty, needy, desperate little girls to play with, use, and dick down tonight…and then maybe some good girls to snuggle afterward. Lucky for them, you and Mina are on the exact same time.
Mina naughtily giggles as Kiri coaxes her into a kiss, his hand on her throat. You’re stuck with Bakugou for now, but you wouldn’t give that up for anything. Not when he’s lying you back and currently spreading your thighs apart, his vermillion eyes all aglow with lust. A bottle of cherry-flavored heating lube and a rose toy sit next to him, making you tingle with excitement.
“Just lean back for me, baby,” he orders. “And you’d better pay attention while I do it. Just ‘cause your girl looks so good doesn’t mean you get to avoid me.”
Kiri tsks, rolling his eyes at his boyfriend. “He’s such an attention whore, ain’t he?” he cackles. “But I think our baby here one-ups him at about five points.”
In a split second, he has Mina bent over in front of the fire, her perky ass up and her face down on the plush rug. You watch in fascination, awe, and arousal as the redhead spreads your girlfriend’s asscheeks apart, showing off her glistening, sobbing wet, pink pussy lips.
Then he is leaning in and sloppily eating it before sliding his tongue up to her ass. Mina gasps, her lashes fluttering as her eyes roll to the back of her head. Whimpering, she tries to push her ass back into Kiri’s mouth, but he clamps a hand on her lower back, keeping her still as he licks away.
After coating her asshole in his spit and stimulating her as much as possible, he takes one of Mina’s favorite butt plugs—the kind with a gem on the end—from next to him, sucks on it, and gently begins to rim the tight hole with it.
The moans that leave Mina’s lips are lewd and loud, fit especially for a porno. Kiri gives her a toothy grin, his cock twitching between his thighs. “That feel nice, Mina?” he cooingly asks her.
”Y-Yes, Daddy,” she moans and a sly smile stretches across her face. “But I’d know what would feel even better.”
Before you can peep more on their moment like a little pervert, you feel the rose toy vibrating against your clit while Bakugou’s hot, wet tongue caresses your slit. Your thighs clench and your hands move to grip his spiked, blonde hair as he slurps and licks away, the toy buzzing against your clit. “Ah, fuck!” you moan. “Yes, ‘Suki, that’s so good!”
Bakugou stares at you between your thighs, his stare hot and possessive. “Mmm-hmm,” he hums against your pussy. “You taste so good for me.” He uses the flat of his tongue to press against your slit while he rubs the rose against your clit, stimulating you in both places. You twitch in pleasure, trying to move away from it because it is just too much!
But Bakugou stops you, placing his scarred hand on one thigh to keep it pinned open. “Uh-uh, no moving. Don’t you dare try to run from this.” He continues to turn tricks with his tongue and soft lips, practically French kissing your pussy. You whimper at the agonizing pleasure. “B-But, Daddy—“
“Fuck, Eji, yes!” Mina yelps from beside you. You turn your head, finding Kiri’s tongue rimming her asshole, replacing the plug for a moment to tease her with his tongue. “Yeah? My little slut likes getting her ass ate, doesn’t she?” Your girlfriend nods, her whimpers and soft moans desperate and needy.
“I bet you love gettin’ it fucked too,” Kiri hums. “Let’s find out.” He pulls his lips away from her and begins to slowly push the plug into her ass.
Your pussy throbs watching the tight hole stretch around the plug, especially when Kiri begins to fuck her asshole with it, turning and twisting the bullet-shaped plug this way and that. “That’s it, take it, baby. Take it like a good girl for me.”
Mina grips the rug for dear life, winding her hips, unashamed and slutty as the pleasure Kiri gives her washes over her. “Oh, my God!” she whines. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!”
“Hey.” Bakugou slaps your pussy with his hand, making you jump. He glares at you, irked that your attention isn’t on him and only him.
“Pay attention. I’ve got my tongue in you after all.” He presses the toy harder against your clit, earning a moan from deep in your chest. “I-I’m sorry, ‘Suki,” you whimper. “I-It’s just that…”
He smirks at you, jutting a chin at your whining, whimpering, writhing girlfriend. “You like watchin’ your slutty girlfriend get that pretty asshole fucked, don’t you?” he asks. “Nasty little whore, ain’t she?”
So are you. Your pussy creams and gushes around Bakugou’s skillful tongue as he licks away at your pussy, alternating between sucking on your clit and using the rose to stimulate it.
You can’t help yourself—you begin to grind your hips into his mouth, desperate for more. “That’s it,” he coos. “That’s my girl. Fuck my tongue.”
He watches greedily as you, his good, sweet little baby girl, fucks his face and soaks his mouth in your juices. You turn into a babbling, whining mess, unable to keep your voice down or stop your moans. “Oh, Daddy, yes, yes, yes!”
Mina is in the same state as you, bent over and writhing against Kiri’s tongue as he eats her out and fucks her asshole with the butt plug at the same time. The pros toss you and your girlfriend into a sea of bliss, constantly stimulating you until you have no choice in the matter of orgasming anymore.
“O-Oh, shit, I’m gonna cum!” Mina wails. “I’m so fucking close!” Kiri pulls his lips away from her pink pussy lips to give her ass a smack. “Such a nasty mouth on you. We’ll have to fix that later.”
Bakugou peers into your eyes from between your thighs, still masturbating you with the rose. “You cummin’ too, baby?” he asks. “What’s the magic word?” He turns to Mina, glaring into her glazed, lustful eyes. “Both of you. Say it to us.”
“Please!” she wails, gripping the rug underneath her.
“Please let us cum, Daddies!” you sob, feeling that knot in your core tighten like a fist. “We need it so bad!”
Bakugou must be satisfied because he dives back into your cunt and drinks it like a starving man, desperate to make you cum. Kiri lovingly strokes Mina’s ass while she frantically rubs her clit, her glossy, candy-apple red nails looking so pretty against her pussy. “Go ahead and give it to us, darlings,” he coos. “Cum for us.”
He, too, goes back to eating Mina out until the both of you are moaning so loud that you imagine the neighbors hearing among the quiet snowstorm. When your orgasm comes, it comes fast, hitting you like a freight train. Your back arches as you gush all over Bakugou’s face and the rose toy, tingles of pleasure rushing through your body.
Mina cums too, her moans mingling with yours and filling the air. Bakugou and Kiri continue to lick away until your bucks of pleasure stop and your moans die down into weak, soft whimpers and sighs.
When your orgasm high fades, your pussy twitches as Bakugou gently smooches it, having successfully cleaned all of your cum off of your pussy lips and thighs. He pulls the toy away from your clit and sucks your juices off of it, not leaving anything to waste.
“Good girls, mamas!” Kiri praises, pressing a twitching Mina on the backside. “You both listen to directions so well! How’d we get so lucky, huh?”
A lazy, satisfied smile stretches across your face. You are totally spent. “Thank you,” you sigh. You don’t have to look at Mina to see that she’s smiling. You can hear it in her soft, weak moans.
Bakugou gives you a crooked smile, wiping at his bottom lip and snakebites. “So sweet. Unlike your woman here.” He nods at Mina who has fully recovered and is now making her way over to the blonde.
She has turned into a cat, seducing Bakugou with her eyes and bimbo charm. “Can I thank you both in another way, Daddies?” she purrs. With a mischievous smile, she reaches out to grab Bakugou’s inviting, hard, throbbing cock.
The blonde grasps hold of her tiny wrist, scowling at her. “I didn’t say you could touch me. You forget your manner, Pinkie?”
Mina whimpers, her eyes big and soft. Before she can say anything at all, Bakugou forces her to bend over so she is at eye level with your glistening, wet cunt. “Open your mouth,” he growls. “You wanna be a greedy little slut and put your mouth on somethin’, do it right here.”
Within the blink of an eye, Mina pushes her face into your pussy where she uses her soft lips and magical tongue to eat you out. No matter if you’re whimpering, writhing, and squirming from the intense, almost agonizing pleasure after your first orgasm. “Oh, fuck, Mina!” you whine.
Mina hums into your cunt, sloppy sounds escaping her as she eats to her heart’s content. She has turned into a total pussy slut, needing you like she needs water. “You taste so good here, baby,” she moans. “You’re so fucking—oooooh!”
Her words are cut off when Kiri suddenly slides his cock into her pussy from behind, gripping her hips for leverage. “Now, that’s no way to talk,” he teasingly criticizes her. “Good girls don’t have dirty mouths. Does Daddy have to teach you a lesson, baby?”
He doesn’t wait for an answer. He just proceeds to roll his hips into her, giving you a front-seat view of his jiggling pecs and her ass bouncing off of him as he gives her back shots. You rub your clit at the sight, gushing into Mina’s mouth.
You can only enjoy the scene for some time before Bakugou’s throbbing, hard, veiny cock is suddenly in your face. He is hovering beside you, holding his dick above your mouth.
“Open up,” he demands. “We don’t need to wake the neighbors, now do we?” A sly grin pulls at his lips. “Or would you rather them hear how you sound gettin’ that pussy ate?”
Plap, plap.
His cock bobs against your lips, staining them in his pre-cum like lipgloss. “Oooh, I bet she does,” Kiri cackles through his huffs as he fucks Mina. “Bet both of them want the whole world to hear how they sound gettin’ their brains fucked out of their heads.”
You open your mouth, wanting to taste your man, and Bakugou slides his cock into your pretty mouth. He groans, tossing his head back at the velvety, wet walls of your mouth.
“So, so cute,” he groans. “So pretty with my dick in your mouth.”
He begins to rock his hips against your mouth, his head just kissing the threshold of your throat while Mina sucks on your clit. “C‘mon, mama, take him deeper,” Kiri coos. “You know you love suckin’ on pro hero cock. Just as much as I love fuckin’ your pretty girl.”
He bumps his hips roughly into Mina’s ass, causing her tongue to slip inside of you. You moan around Bakugou’s dick as Mina is see-sawed between you and Kiri, him pushing and pulling her back.
“Our pretty girl,” Bakugou grunts. “They’re ours now.” He looks down at you as he feeds you more of his big cock down your throat. “Aren’t you, baby? Aren’t you ours?”
Your throat flexes around him, causing you to gag as he begins to stroke the inner walls of your throat. “Mmm-hmmm!” you mumble around his cock. Saliva pools from your lips, dripping down your chin.
Kiri���s handsome face is flushed, his crimson eyes slitted as he stares at his boyfriend fucking your mouth. “Fuck her mouth harder, Kats. I wanna see those eyes roll back into that pretty head.”
Bakugou swears, pushing himself flush against your mouth. “Don’t tell me what to fuckin’ do,” he growls. “If ya want me to do that, you’d better fuck that little slut harder.”
Mina whines into your pussy, still licking and lapping at your juices. Kiri grins, gripping onto her asscheeks. “She sounds like she likes the sound of that,” he chuckles. “Hang on tight, Mina, baby.”
Together, Kiri fucks Mina’s pussy off of its hinges while Bakugou fucks your face, grunting as he does. Through it all, Mina continues to eat you out, making your moans grow loud and unabashed around Bakugou’s dick. Your second orgasm begins to crest, rising to the surface.
Bakugou’s cock slips out of your mouth, allowing you to warn your girlfriend and your Daddies of your end. “I’m gonna cum!” you whine. “I c-can’t! Can’t stop!” Mina whines into your pussy, signaling that she’s close too.
Bakugou slides back into your mouth, fucking your throat like he’s trying to hit a home run. “M’cumming too, baby,” he groans. “Take it all. Don’t you dare waste a drop of me.”
“M-Me too,” Kiri stammers, his handsome face etched in pleasure from Mina’s pussy squeezing around him. “Both of you cum with us. Go ahead, babies.”
Your second orgasm slams into you so hard that all you can do is gasp around Bakugou’s cock. As you gush into Mina’s mouth, she cums around Kiri’s cock, causing him to shoot his load deep inside of her. “Oh, fuck!” he groans, throwing his head back as he releases a fat load deep inside of her pussy.
With a groan, Bakugou cums too, shooting his own creamy load of spunk into your throat. You gargle in surprise at the amount he gives you, doing your best to swallow each ounce like a good girl and not choke (thank God for your nostrils).
Finally, the blonde sits back and pants, his cock still semi-hard. It slips out of your mouth, allowing you to swallow and breathe. “Oh, wow,” you sigh
Your body is tingling, your muscles like putty from two orgasms. Mina pants, leaning against your inner thigh while Kiri leans against her, being careful to not crush her. “‘Oh, wow’ is right,” Bakugou chuckles, his eyes flaring. “But we ain’t finished with you two whores yet. And I know for a fact that you ain’t done with us yet either.”
You feel an excited shiver run through your entire body. Despite those two mind-blowing orgasms, you want more. You want to give more. Judging from the look in Mina’s eyes as Kiri wraps his big arms around her, she does too. “What’d you have in mind, Daddies?” she purrs, nuzzling her cheek into Kiri’s forearm.
The redhead gives Bakugou a deviant, wicked grin that makes your stomach flip. “Whatever else you got up in that goodie drawer.”
Unfortunately for you and Mina, your Daddies raid that damn thing and sometime later, the pros are playing with you again.
Suddenly, you find yourself on all fours with Kiri’s thick cock balls deep inside of your soaking pussy with a butt plug snuggly in your asshole. Lube drips from both of your holes, mixing with the juices that drip down your thighs, making it much easier for Kiri to sink in and out of you.
Your eyes fill with tears from the pleasure and your arch is wobbly. You can barely stand the constant stimulation. “K-Kiri,” you whine. “I feel so…s-so—“
“Full?” he finishes for you. He chuckles, gently stroking your back. “I know, sugar, but you’re doin’ sooo good for me. Just look at how pretty this ass is, Kats!” He gives your ass a smack as he strokes your walls with his dick, taking his sweet time and making you feel all of him.
Bakugou is too busy focusing on Mina who he’s got bent over, face down ass up, his finger stuffed in her pussy while he fucks her asshole with a butt plug. “I will once I show this bratty bitch down here who’s boss,” he growls. “She seemed to forget and tried to reach for my dick…without permission, mind you.”
Mina mewls into the carpet, grasping onto anything as Bakugou fucks both of her holes. “I-I’m sorry, Daddy! You just look so good!”
Spank!
Kiri gives her ass a swat, earning a loud, wanton moan from her. “Couldn’t help myself,” he snickers. “You get one too, mama.” He raises his hand, smacking your ass once more.
Spank!
You gasp, the slight sting making your pussy clench around him. You need more. You need so much more. You push back against him, fucking him yourself. “N-Need you,” you whimper pitifully. “Please, Daddy, fuck me.”
Kiri shudders, hypnotized by the way you look on his cock. He presses a kiss to your backside, totally in love with you. “Well, since my baby asked for it so nicely…”
Finally, he grabs your hips and begins to fuck you deeper, giving you as much dick as you need, no matter the inches. Mina is right in front of you, her face etched in ecstasy as Bakugou slides his fat cock inside of her finally. Your fluttering eyes and open-mouthed expressions mirror one another as each cock fills you up.
Kiri hums in enjoyment, placing a hand around your throat. “Such big girls takin’ two big cocks in those pretty pussies.” His lewd praise makes you whine, your vision blurry from the pleasure.
“Look at your girl gettin’ fucked,” he growls into your ear. “Doesn’t she look so pretty? Why don’t you give her a kiss?”
You stare at your girlfriend’s soft, glassy eyes, full of tears from the pleasure, her smudged lipgloss, and gorgeous tits bouncing as Bakugou rails her from behind and her nipples pinched pink from the nipple clamps. Pain slut. Yes, she does look pretty. The prettiest.
“B-Baby,” she whines. “You’re so beautiful.” She reaches for you at the same time you reach for her, pressing your lips together in a sloppy, messy kiss that Bakugou and Kiri definitely enjoy watching.
You moan into the kiss, your taste lingering on Mina’s tongue. But the magic is interrupted when you suddenly feel Kiri begin to fuck the butt plug in and out of your asshole, squelching sounds escaping you. Mina whines as Bakugou does the same to her, pushing her further into the throes of pleasure. “K-Katsuki, that’s s-so mean!” she stammers.
The blonde scowls at her, a blush on his cheeks at the way her body lewdly moves. “Greedy whores like you deserve it. Now shut the fuck up and keep bouncin’ on that dick.” He twines his hair in her pink locks and pulls, much to her enjoyment. You love seeing your girl go slutty and dumb on a cock.
Kiri pushes his face into your hair, breathing in the scent of your fruity hair cream. “C’mon, baby, throw that ass back on me,” he groans. “Fuck me back. Show me you need this too.”
You do just as he wants, tossing your ass back into him and meeting his thrusts. Hot pants and moans reach a crescendo as you bounce back onto Kiri’s dick while your fingers toy with your clit, bringing you closer to a third orgasm. “That’s my baby,” he grunts. “That’s my good, good girl.”
He uses one hand to cup one of your juicy tits while the other massages your ass as he plows himself into you again and again, turning your pussy into wet mush. “Kiri, I’m gonna cum!” you moan. “Please do it faster! Please!”
The redhead smirks to himself, drilling his hips into you faster and faster. “Is this good enough for you, mama?” he pants. “Huh? Is this dick good enough for you?”
You can’t even describe how it feels. All you can do is babble and wine, your voice reaching heights it never has before. “Fuck yes!” you practically scream. “Oh, shit, I’m gonna…I’m gonna…!” You don’t finish your sentence, the urge to climax once more too much for you to contain.
Mina whines and moans in front of you, still taking Bakugou’s cock like it is her profession. “M-Me too!” she sobs. “Please, Daddies, make us cum! Please! I promise I’ll be a good girl!”
The blonde wickedly smiles down at her, overjoyed to turn you both into some stupid, brainless cumsluts. “We’ll see about that,” he huffs. “Go ahead and give it to me then. Cum for us, you little sluts.”
Kiri groans as he fucks into you deeper, gripping your smaller, softer body to him in an effort to keep you close. “Cum with me, baby,” he begs. “Cum with me now.”
You let out a broken sob while Mina practically sings as you both cum together, your pussies gushing all over your Daddies’ cocks. Your orgasms trigger Bakugou and Kiri and with two loud moans in unison, they finally bust inside of each of you, filling you both up with two, warm, creamy loads.
You gasp as Kiri grasps your hips hard enough to leave bruises, gripping you like you’re about to disappear. You feel his load drip out of your pussy and down your thighs, coating you.
With a sigh and a weak moan, Kiri pulls out of you, allowing you to slump to the floor in exhaustion. He nuzzles your cheek and presses a kiss to your forehead. “That’s my good girl,” he coos, earning a goofy smile from you. But Bakugou isn’t so touchy-feely. He pulls out of Mina and lets her slump to the floor before drilling you with a hot stare.
“Not done yet,” he growls. “‘Bout to fill you up too. Come the fuck here.” You gape at him, shocked. Again?! He just came twice! He’s like a damn machine. “And you.” Bakugou crooks a finger at Mina in a ‘come hither’ motion.
Despite her sexed-out curls and hooded eyes, she crawls towards him obediently. “How do you want me, Daddy?” she softly and oh-so seductively asks, batting her long lashes.
“Get underneath your girl and please us while I fuck her,” he demands. “You don’t get to just sit there and look pretty. I want you to work that mouth the way you know how.”
Mina is more than happy to oblige, her eyes lighting up like Christmas trees at the prospect of more messy sex. “Yes, sir,” she exhales as she lays down on her back, her gorgeous body on full display and her skin illuminated by the firelight.
Bakugou helps you climb on top and straddle her face, your limbs tired and achy. Mina grips your hips as he slides himself inside of you, filling you until his balls touch your clit. You groan at the delicious stretch and the ache in your cunt, squirming around from his stroke game as he begins to thrust.
He grips your waist tightly, refusing to let you go. “Don’t run from me,” he growls. “No, you take this shit. You wanted it and now you’ve got it.”
You can’t take it! Any of it! Not his delicious cock. Not Mina’s soft lips and tongue caressing your clit or eagerly sucking on Bakugou’s balls. Not any of it. You feel like you’re a balloon expanding with too much air. Bakugou presses his nose into your hair, his snakebites tickling your ear.
“You’ve got it, baby,” he whispers. “You’re a big girl, right? You don’t wanna disappoint Daddy, do you?”
No. Never.
"N-No!” you sob. Bakugou smirks into your hair, wrapping his hand around your throat as he drills your shit over and over again. “Fuckin’ fuck me back then.” Despite your aching thighs, you rock yourself back into him, riding Mina’s face at the same time, your eyes fluttering closed.
When you open them, Kiri has appeared in front of you, his lips parted in a silent moan as he fists his hard cock. “Damn slut,” Bakugou cackles. “He’s so pussy-whipped that he can’t keep his hands off of himself.”
The redhead grows as red as his face, his fist gripping his hard, veiny cock. “Can’t help it,” he sighs. “You’re all just so goddamn hot.”
He moves closer to you on his own, his cock swinging between his thighs. “Come here,” Bakugou growls before grabbing Kiri and pressing his lips to his. The two messily kiss, moaning into each other’s mouths as Kiri jerks himself off to the sounds and sights of you and Mina.
You can feel a mixture of your cum and Mina’s spit drip down your thighs, making the area so wet that it stimulates you even more intensely. You can feel it—that fourth orgasm. It rises to the surface like a tidal wave ready to wash you away.
Bakugou can feel your pussy clenching tight around him, signaling your final nut. “Whose are you?” he asks, squeezing your throat. “Tell me who the fuck owns you.”
He pistons his hips harder, faster, making your pussy squelch and Mina struggle to keep up with licking and sucking you. “‘You do!” you sob. “I’m yours, Daddies, I’m yours!”
“Show us then,” Bakugou demands. “Cum on that dick, baby.” Kiri kisses his boyfriend’s cheek, still stroking his cock in tandem with Bakugou’s vigorous thrusts. “You cum too,” he coos. “Fill her up for me, babe. Give her all of them babies.”
It doesn’t take long for either you or Bakugou to cum. With a shuddering groan and a growl of pleasure, he releases a warm stream of spunk into your pussy, leaving enough droplets for Mina to slurp up from underneath you, moaning as she does.
Kiri appears in front of you, his fist moving like a blur across his cock. “Where do you want it, babe?” he teasingly asks. “You better tell me now before I choose for you.”
You stare up at him as the aftershocks kick in, making you buck against Bakugou’s cock. “In my mouth,” you beggingly reply. “Do it in my mouth, Daddy.”
Kiri is more than happy to fulfill your request. After a few more strokes, he releases into your open mouth with a groan, spurting drops of spunk onto your tongue and lips. You take it all, including Bakugou’s smack and kiss mark on your ass before he pulls out of you. Exhausted, you roll off of Mina onto your back, panting heavily.
Bakugou makes Mina clean your cum off of his cock which she happily does, slurping up all that he gives her. Finally, you and your girlfriend lay side by side in the firelight, panting, sweating, and twitching. Totally fucked. Totally spent. Absolutely satisfied.
The two pros stare down at you, proud of their work. Bakugou grips both your and Mina’s chins in his hands, squeezing your cheeks together. “Now you know how it feels to be ours,” he says, his voice low and seductive. “And you’ll remember that, right?”
He stares into your eyes, silently demanding a response. “Yes, Daddies,” you reply in unison.
The two smile, flashing their gorgeous smiles at you. “Good girls,” they reply. You and Mina shiver at the praise. “Now let’s get you two cleaned up,” Kiri coos.
The rest of the night is all about aftercare. Nothing but oil massages to ease your aching muscles, a hot shower complete with bubbles and tender kissing, and mugs of tea to relax your mind. At some point, you four snuggle in front of the fireplace together, the night nearing the AM hours. You’re tucked under a blanket between Bakugou and Mina while Kiri lays beside her, nuzzling into her hair.
As the wind howls outside, you snuggle into Bakugou’s chest, earning a soft, tender kiss on the forehead. “Go to sleep,” he murmurs. “Don’t fight it.”
You don’t remember when you fall asleep, but you do remember that you fall asleep with a smile on your face.
#black fanfic writer#smutty smut#my works#black coded reader#bimbo reader#mina x black!reader#bakugou x black!reader#kirishima x black!reader#black writers#bnha smut#poly smut#poly love#kiribakumina#poly kiribaku
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Girl your “love is dead” anon got me tweaking! I don’t want to disrupt your fictober flow - but I have a prompt request for later. Can you write some petty fight or argument about Jerse or Diana while they’re already together, preferably set after s7? I’m not in the mood for their usual “we’re gonna be mature and discuss it maturely” - I want some petty and petulant heat of the moment fight. Bonus if there’s smut — SINCE MULDER AND SCULLY ARE HOT AND IN LOVE AND THEEEE SHIP BLUEPRINT with so much sexual tension and chemistry even after 30 years, and even if they weren’t soulmates you can’t look at them and honestly think they don’t have hot sex ANONN!!
It should be a nice afternoon. Mulder's over at her apartment. They're watching baseball. She's on maternity leave. She's relaxing. And yet every single thing in her life is irritating. Her body doesn't feel like her own. She didn't sleep well, because her belly is inconveniently big. Every craving she's had lately seems to exacerbate her heartburn, and she has to pee all the time, and even her walks around the neighborhood make her short of breath. She's tired of stretch marks and she's afraid of hemorrhoids, especially since it's harder to turn to wipe at this point.
Mulder seems blissfully unaware of all this and she's glad about that, but irritated too. It was only weeks ago that he was still icing her out like it was her fault he'd been buried. She knows that's the trauma—God knows she felt some of it herself after her abduction—but it's still frustrating as hell.
She prayed so hard for this pregnancy, but being pregnant comes with its own strange burdens, even during the moments that she's not afraid for her life and her child. She prayed for Mulder to be returned to her, but not for this alternately blithe and bitter version of him who's sometimes acting like nothing's wrong and sometimes seems to blame her for all of it. A quarter of the time, he's so solicitous it's as if he thinks pregnancy has broken her. A quarter of the time, he seems like he's about to bolt. The other half of the time they're together, it's like he ignores the whole situation, except for the occasional quip. But she never gets to forget it.
Whatever happened to him seems to have reset their relationship, and that also pisses her off. Seven years of foreplay, and all for what? For him to act like now that she's pregnant, she's the Virgin Mother? Especially now, when her hormones are at extreme high tide and she just wants to be railed within an inch of her life? He just sits there looking like the man who used to eat her out until her whole body ached from coming too many times, and watches baseball like he doesn't remember the way he thrust against her when he was pretending to teach her how to play.
There's a sharp crack from the tv, the sound of a ball hit hard and fast, and Mulder whoops. Scully jumps in her seat. The fact that she's startled makes her seethe.
"What do you think?" he says, turning to her. He's grinning widely. "Is it finally time for me to get NY tattooed on my ass?"
Anger bubbles over inside her. He said the same thing when he saw her tattoo for the first time. "Fuck off," she suggests, almost cordially, and starts to heave herself up from the couch. She can read in bed or something. Drink pathetic herbal tea at the table. Anything but sit here and want what they used to have.
"Hey, whoa." He catches her arm. "What did I say? Do you not want me to get a tattoo?"
"Far be it from me to suggest you do anything with your body," she says frostily, sort of crouching on the edge of the sofa. "Although I can't imagine you extending me the same courtesy."
"What's this about?" he asks, putting the tv on mute.
"You never miss a chance to needle me about my tattoo," she says. It's a completely unfair statement, the kind of deranged nonsense that only couples say to each other, and she didn't even mean to put "needle" and "tattoo" in the same sentence.
His face clouds. "It wasn't about that."
"No, of course it wasn't," she says, looking away from him. He's still holding her arm. "Because you don't care what I do unless I'm fucking someone else, even if you don't want me."
"I don't want you?" He finally sounds a little bit angry. Good. She wants to stoke those fires. Maybe he'll kiss her, maybe he'll storm out: either way, they'll have reached a tipping point. Something seems to click in his brain. "Are you fucking someone else?"
"Would it be your business if I were?" she challenges him.
"I guess not," he says, but he's got that stubborn set to his jaw.
"If you're not going to make it your fucking business, you should leave," she tells him. "It'll save me the effort of boxing up your stuff the next time some leggy brunette from your past shows up."
"Not pulling any punches, huh," he says, breathing fast. She hates the way his chest looks in that t-shirt. She hates the way his jeans strain over his thighs as he shifts.
"You never hold back when you're kicking me when I'm down," she says, looking at him levelly, and it's not fucking fair and she knows it, but none of this is fucking fair. She has everything she thought she wanted and all of it's just not quite right. She's half an inch from bursting into angry tears.
"What the fuck is happening right now?" he asks. "I thought we were watching baseball." As if he doesn't remember the way he talked to her about Ed Jerse. He remembers. He remembers everything.
"Just go," she says, turning her face away. She puts one hand on her belly, as if she could calm the roil of lust and resentment and disappointment.
"Uh uh," he says. "You don't get to kick me out before I leave you. I know that trick." His chest is heaving now.
"You've left me before," she says in a low voice.
"I'm not fucking doing it now," he tells her, anger crackling in his voice. "Diana's dead, if you remember."
"It wouldn't be the first time you've abandoned me to chase a ghost," she says, and it's a low, low blow.
He flinches like she slapped him. She didn't mean Samantha, of course she didn't. But there were other ghosts along the way, and she knows he knows that.
"What do you mean I don't want you?" he asks, the words rasping out of him.
She shakes her head. "You haven't so much as kissed me on the cheek since you got back."
"Scully, I want you all the fucking time," he says, and the intensity in his eyes and his voice hits so deep she feels it in her bones. It's like he's really looking at her for the first time since the hospital. Her lips part. She watches his eyes drop to her mouth. Fuck, she wants him so much even that makes her wet. "I didn't think you wanted me anymore."
"I want you so badly," she says, almost whimpering it, and she hates herself a little for that, for being so weak in him, but he pulls her forward and crushes her against him and his mouth is against hers at long fucking last and God, that's exactly what she needed. To be held by him, to feel him against her, really and truly here, really and truly hers.
"Please," she says, and he's already tugging her into his lap. She straddles him, the ridge of his cock making itself known under her thighs. She's wearing some t-shirt dress and leggings her mom got for her and she hates it, she absolutely hates it. She misses her sleek suits and her jeans that didn't have an elastic panel in them and being able to wear any of her sweaters without feeling like she's stretching them out in the bust. She misses the body Mulder couldn't stop touching. But he can't seem to stop touching her now, either: his hands cradle her tits, slide down her back, mold themselves over her hips. He even touches her belly, very gently, but like he's maybe a little less afraid of it.
"Can we...?" he asks.
"If we don't, I might die," she tells him, and kisses him. He kisses her back like her mouth is the only thing that can save him. His tongue is in her mouth and God, she missed it. She missed everything about him. Even the smell of his skin is intoxicating. She grabs him around the neck like she'll float away if she doesn't hold on.
They kiss until she's dizzy with need. She breaks away and sits back on her heels, panting a little. "That was a joke. About dying."
"I got that," he says, "but we can't take that chance." His hands skim up her thighs, under the hem of her giant unflattering t-shirt. She lifts her hips and her arms so he can pull it up and over her head. Immediately, his eyes are on her tits, and then his face is buried in them, his lips wandering over her skin. She moans as he thumbs her nipples through her ugly maternity bra. They're so sensitive and he knows exactly how to touch her somehow. He always did.
"Is it weird if I suck on your tits?" he asks, the words muffled by her cleavage. In answer, she lifts her nipple to his mouth and moans again as he tongues her through the fabric. Fuck, it feels good. She grinds on the bulge of his erection. She's come just from this, but not for a long time. She moves faster, torn between wanting to hump him into oblivion and wanting to come with him inside her, his skin against hers. The second possibility wins out. She crawls off his lap.
"Everything okay?" he asks. His eyes are hazy with desire and his hair is mussed. He looks so much like Mulder-Before that her heart squeezes and she almost wants to cry. They're not who they were. But they can be themselves again.
"No," she says, and gets to see his panic face. "You've got way too many clothes on."
"You got me," he says, stripping off his shirt. His scars are fading, much less livid than they were in the hospital. She studies him with an appreciative eye as he undoes his jeans. He's still got it. He wiggles out of his jeans and helps her peel out of her leggings and her maternity underwear.
"How do we do this?" he asks.
"However we want," she says. "Mulder, pregnant people can have sex." She is very, very slightly worried given how many problems she's already had, but not enough to stop. They deserve one fucking break in the midst of all of this, one thing that's still the same.
"Lean back," she tells him, nudging him toward the corner of the sofa. He goes where he's told, his cock bobbing as he moves. The slightly reclined position makes room for her stomach. It might not be the most comfortable, but she wants to look at him. She straddles him again, up on her knees. His hand is between her thighs, sliding between her folds. He swears in a low voice when his fingers find where she's wet. She echoes him when he brushes his slick thumb over her clit. It's like Fourth of July fireworks and twinkling lights on Christmas morning all at once, but inside her body.
"I want you," she tells him, looking down at him.
"You got me," he promises. "I want you so much, Scully."
"Show me," she says, sinking down. He guides his cock into her. God, it's been too long. She's tight, and even though she's so wet for him, it takes a minute to take all of him. She eases herself down and down and down the hot length of him. She moans as she takes him deeper, spreading her knees on the sofa to get another half-inch. Finally she's resting against his thighs and she's so full she thinks she could come just like this, just feeling him all the way inside her. He puts one hand on her face, as tender as if it's their first time. In a way, it is, all over again.
"I missed you," he whispers, and she bursts into tears as she starts to move. But she's laughing and crying at the same time, riding him. She lets herself be loud, lets herself be messy. He should see how he undoes her. But his mouth is open and desperate under hers too. His hands tremble on her skin.
"I missed you so much," she says, the words broken up by kisses and by the way he thrusts up into her. She loves feeling the strength of him under her. She loves his arms around her. His bare skin against hers is what she's been craving the worst her entire pregnancy. She has brief flashes of what it would have been like if he'd been here the whole time: the way he would have caressed the slight swell of her growing belly, the delight in his eyes feeling the baby kick.
"It's not too late," she says, and he groans in agreement. She's close. She sits up so she can ride him hard, grinding her pelvis against him. His fingers find her clit and she gasps, a sharp noise. He grins up at her.
"Hips before hands," she pants.
"I knew you loved baseball," he says roughly.
"Just the nice piece of ash," she says, and he flicks her clit just right and she's coming, shivering around his cock. He throbs inside her, thrusting up like he can't help himself. It's all she can do to grip his thighs with her knees as he pounds into her, but she won't shut her eyes. She needs to see him. She watches his pleasure build. His mouth is open and his cheeks are flushed. There's a light in his eyes she hasn't seen since Before.
"Come on," she urges. "I need this."
He makes an inarticulate noise that's about half her name and comes hard, his thighs like steel under her. She holds him as her muscles flutter in delicious empathy. His eyes are shining as he looks up at her. A tear rolls down his cheek. She catches it on her thumb and brings it to her lips. He laughs, sounding surprised.
She climbs off him. It's a slightly difficult process, but he braces her with his hands and that helps. She retrieves the detested t-shirt dress and wads it under herself to shield the couch from any sticky residues. They both lie back against the cushions, breathing hard.
"What were we fighting about?" she asks.
"Whether I love the Yankees more than I love you, I think," he says, sprawling next to her.
"You do," she says. "But that's okay."
"I don't," he says. "I don't love anything more than I love you, Scully. Not even ghosts."
She meets his eyes. His gaze is steady. "Okay," she whispers.
"Okay." He nods. "As for things I might have said about anyone else you were fucking, it's not an excuse to say that I was insanely jealous, but it does explain it a little. Sorry I was a dick."
"Sometimes we were both dicks," she says. "I think that's how love works."
"You wanna find out together?" He holds out his hand.
"Yeah," she says, taking it. "I do."
On the television, a baseball soars into a cloudless blue sky. It's a grand slam.
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safeword
it’s not a rare occurrence to spice up some things in your love life with rúben, including but not limited to the sex aspect. but when things get tough for you, you have to tap out and at that sight, rúben has never felt so sorry for you.
rúben dias x you
tw: filthy smut (like, foreplay to overstimulation while being blindfolded kind of filthy) and its aftercare
wc: 2.3k
prompts: “using safeword during sex” + “aftercare”
note: so many of you ask for a rúben smut, therefore may i present you, in this 1st post of smut week... this is based on these two asks! I never said I didn’t warn you, guys… pls DNI if you’re not 18 yet! but as usual, I happen to write at dawn so this is not beta-read yet.
“oh fuck, rúben!”
you didn’t know if your mouth produced a groan or a gasp or something in between because they sounded so carnal to you that you didn’t want to find out what that sound was categorised as. your brain had been melting since the first touch rúben landed on your skin after he’d managed to persuade you to put on a blindfold.
it’d be fun, he said.
of course it’d be fun for him. your boyfriend wasn’t on the receiving end of his torturous, sensual touches.
of course it’d be fun for him. your boyfriend wasn’t on the receiving end of his torturous, sensual touches.
it wasn’t your boyfriend that felt the sensation of his fingers pinching on one of your nipples while his mouth engulfed the other pink bud, his sinful touch worked wonders simultaneously with his teeth lightly biting.
it wasn’t your boyfriend that arched whenever his thumb pulled your nipple to a stiffness you didn’t know could make you more receptive than any other time he’d done this with you.
it wasn’t your boyfriend that was taken aback whenever he switched his thumb with his mouth, left and right, so relentlessly without giving you a break to breathe. it wasn’t your boyfriend that felt the striking difference between the cold air of his bedroom and the warmth you were provided by his hands and mouth.
it wasn’t your boyfriend’s ears that were fed by the disgusting sounds of his tongue lapping the areola like it was his last supper—sucking them good to the point he could tug on the erected bud gently, circling them around, back and forth like he didn’t want this to end.
but god, you did because he’d been doing these sinful things to you that it endangered your sanity. because you couldn’t see whatever he was doing.
it wasn’t your boyfriend that was being blindfolded, resulting in every of your senses heightened in sensitivity. as if being cuffed to the bedpost above you wasn’t enough, rúben killed you twice by heightening your anticipation.
it wasn’t your boyfriend that already came—thrice, mind you—under his ministrations because of that spiking anticipation, not knowing what to expect and when to expect his agonizing foreplay, and he hadn’t even touched you where you wanted him to.
and now his hands was stroking gently from the death grip of yours against the silk tie he was wearing earlier, down to your armpit, while his mouth alternated between the left and right sides of your mound like he couldn’t pick a better one to settle. so selfish of him, so arrogant, yet so sexy. “rúben, I—”
“I know, baby,” he said, and god was he not satisfied at your posture underneath him. arching so sexily like a vixen in need of mercy not to be killed, anything to get you off. fortunately for him, it was the figurative meaning. “you can come.”
“I don’t think—ow, fuck!”
you trashed your body to the left this time because he was nipping on the sides of your right, down to your belly button, before settling down just an inch before your opening, which had been dripping wet shamelessly even before you came for the first time this evening.
with his touches everywhere and his mouth so close yet so far to the very itching part of your body, you felt like your insides were exploding but too weak to combust. “I can’t, rúben, I can’t—”
“yes, you can, baby,”
you wanted to—god did you want to reach your high so bad—especially with the way rúben left trail of kisses all over the inside of your thighs, ending with a gentle kiss on top of your swollen labia.
but you didn’t have the energy too. your stamina had been diverted elsewhere—to your senses when kept blindfolded, to your hands when you gripped the silk material preventing you from touching your boyfriend, to your brain when you forced your lungs to breathe.
“you’re my good girl,” rúben whispered huskily against the sensitive skin, his teeth and tongue grazing insanely close to where you wanted him. with the way you were spread submissively, an inch closer to your inside would grant you his tongue on your clit. “I know you can.”
you knew you could, but not now. you needed a break first.
“rúben, I—” you bit your lips because you wanted to cry. you wanted to cry as rúben dived into your clit, licking them like they were a gelato served on a plate, because you couldn’t take it anymore, yet rúben was incredible on his tongue work you didn’t want to miss it. “rúben, no, no, no,”
if you thought the sounds rúben was making earlier was disgusting, the sounds rúben was making now was downright dirty. his tongue went up and down along your clit, circling the bud for a while as he enjoyed your bodily reactions, even went to dip the tip of his tongue to your hole slightly before pulling out. and before you realised it, you were shaking and trembling as orgasm knocked on your door.
“oh fuuuuuuuck—”
you could feel your juices coming out so liquidly fast you would’ve been so embarrassed at it if it was any other sex for you, but it wasn’t and you were now limping out of energy. strikingly different to your boyfriend who you were sure could still hold up another dozen rounds of sex, indicated by the patient pace of him licking your cum and devouring it like the drink to his last supper.
he even still had the guts to suck your swollen clitoris like he wanted to bring you to another orgasm. you swore that tongue—oh fucking hell.
not the fingers coming into play now.
rúben inserted two of his fingers while his thumb supported his tongue, going up and down while his tongue went sideways against the clitoral hood and his other fingers stroked in and out of your insides. you swore you had never heard a raunchier sound than what your boyfriend was currently torturing you with, so wet it became so slick and smooth for his fingers to glide in and out.
“you taste so delicious, meu amor,” you could even feel his smile against the hot skin of yours. the audacity, you groaned inwardly. “give me one more.”
you were now on the edge of consciousness, you could feel it. especially with the way you were slowly but surely spurting in his palms. you really couldn’t to it anymore, for god’s sake.
so you cried in your scream while you were brought down to another earth-shattering high. fuck the bedpost if you succeeded in bending them. “red! red! red!”
gone immediately was your boyfriend from literally every inch of you. you could sense him pulling away from you, and as much as you hated him for pushing you over the edge—quite literally at that—you missed his warmth exuding from his giant body already. it was the only thing that kept you going during the excruciating moments that you just passed with not-so flying colours.
seconds later, you felt the bed dipped on the sides of your head, along with rúben’s hands—gone was the harsh touches too—freeing you from the restrains on your hands. you might have to ask how he could tie something so tight while untangling them so easy.
“I’m going to take off the blindfold now,” you could feel rúben rubbing off your wrists, kissing the insides of them that must’ve gone red by now because of your constant bodily protests against the material of his tie. “please stay with me, meu amor.”
the kisses went down from the insides of your wrists, to your arms, to your temple before it settled down on your lips. which had gotten swollen from his ruthless bites and your attempts to suppress your moans from getting too loud, you were sure of. you then felt his lips touched the sides of your cheeks, simultaneously with his hands cupping your face gently.
his thumb wiped the fresh tears escaping your shut pair of eyes as he whispered against your lips. “me perdõe, minha vida. I’ve pushed you too far.”
you couldn’t respond to his apology because you were still silently crying underneath the blindfold. not because you hated him for pushing you too far—his words, that is—but because you were so relieved it was over this time and you gained back your ever gentle, ever loving boyfriend back.
tonight was only a test from rúben of how far he could take you and how far you could trust him, and you wished to remain that way. tonight only, not more.
“please talk to me, baby,” you could feel him detaching one of his palms from your cheek, before feeling them stroking the top of your head and ended up on the back of your head, where the knot of the blindfold was. “please, I’m so sorry, my love.”
you could feel the material slipping off around your head but you were still gathering your composure and leftover energy before you could face your boyfriend without feeling ashamed. you initially wanted to show him how much you trust him, that your trust never wavered, but you failed. pretty badly at that. it felt like you were the one that was supposed to be apologising.
you could feel your throat getting dry from the endless intake of broken breaths and gasps and moans in between rúben’s relentless ministrations earlier, so you asked for a glass of water before you could embarrass yourself further by producing an ugly screeching noise. rúben immediately dashed for the kitchen, and you utilised the small space of privacy to adjust your eyes to the light dimming in the bedroom.
your earlier suspicion was confirmed—your wrists were very red, your breasts were swollen badly, your thighs were disgustingly wet. not to mention the blue-ish and purple spots trails everywhere from your collarbone to the insides of your thighs. you tried to sit up to see whatever more your boyfriend gifted your skin with, but your body ached everywhere. you could even swear the muscle on your abs were even tenser than the first time you did poundfit.
just as you plopped back your head back to the pillow, resigning from the reality that you wouldn’t be able to be out of bed for the remaining of the weekend, the culprit of all this came back with a glass of water and a mini basket of what you’d like to think as creams. hopefully one of them had the capability to soothe the tense muscles.
“I can’t move, rúben,” you chuckled, feeling ridiculous yourself, as you were handed the quench to your thirst. “please help me get up.”
your boyfriend visibly flinched at the implied information that he had, indeed, pushed you too much over the limit. so selfishly, like you weren’t someone so precious to him. but he collected himself in seconds, dropped everything else to the bedside table, before scooping you in his arms in bridal style as if you weighed nothing more than a stack of paper.
you took the chance to bury your nose on the crook of his neck, wondering how the hell his signature smell could still stay on despite being sweaty the past hours. it shouldn’t be fair, you thought, while your boyfriend sat down on the bed, leaning against the bedpost he tangled yourself to earlier, with you in his arms still.
by the looks of it, he didn’t have the desire to let go of you. he almost lost you in less than 15 minutes ago, mind you.
“are you comfortable now?” and you could only nod in your position, cradled like a fine china by your favourite giant. he took it as a sign to fetch back the glass of water he brought for you, guessing you must’ve been very perched from voicing your exasperations being held back. “what else do you need, baby? tell me.”
this time you shook your head as you downed the clear liquid, while rúben’s hands were both drawing circles on the top of your hip and on the side of your thigh respectively, in hope it could further relax you. he certainly wasn’t lying when he said the last words—he was on that level of sorry he would do anything for you this instant.
but he knew you weren’t one to jump into the water when given the opportunity. at least, materialistically.
“please stop saying sorry, big guy,” this time was your turn to hold the side of his face, directing them so you could see him eye to eye. “I want this too, remember?”
“but still—”
“okay then, you’re forgiven,” you said, but the widening smile on your face signalled him you had something else up in your sleeve. “but you have to carry me everywhere because I really think I can’t walk.”
and he truly stood by his words, for he carried you bridal style everywhere you wanted until the weekend ended. despite being embarrassed on some locations—your favourite baker down the block laughed at the sight when you told rúben you were craving for her sourdough—you weren’t complaining. you were confident that he’d always love you like this.
#anon asks#oh-saints answers#oh-saints writes#oh-saints writes requests#ruben dias#rúben dias#ruben dias one shot#ruben dias smut#ruben dias fluff#ruben dias imagines#ruben dias blurbs#ruben dias drabbles#ruben dias x you#ruben dias fic#ruben dias fics#ruben dias fanfic#footballer x you#footballer smut#football fanfiction
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Long Day?
PWNP like no bs I’ve had a very, very long few weeks at work. Stress makes me skin-hungry. I wrote him kind of service top-ie here honestly I think that's the most realistic picture of what slightly tired, lovestruck Jungwoo would be like. Trust me when I say I'm Obsessed capital O with him so my opinion must be fact, just joking. Anywhoo I hope you guys enjoy and let me know if there's any requests tbh I have an easier time getting motivated to write for a request (I'm a pleaser like that) <3
Word Count: 2,656
Warnings: Smut, pretty tame pretty vanilla
You’ve just had the longest day at work. Luckily you’ve got a good outlet waiting at home.
Bursting through the door of your shared one bedroom apartment your eyes are instantly locked on target. “Oh hey sweetie you’re home early” Jungwoo is splayed over the couch, not unlike a starfish. One long arm draped over the back and his legs take up multiple cushions, even with one bent knee. A fluffy head of hair rests on the arm of the couch. His metal framed glasses falling slightly down his nose as he glances your way with a loving smile. Your pupils trace the subtle movement of his fingers as he pushes them back up into place. He rises to a sitting position and beckons you over with outstretched arms. You trudge over towards him and slip into his warm embrace. He nestles into your midsection. You can feel the heat of his face through the thin fabric of your work shirt and puffs of his warm breath on your stomach. You card your fingers through his hair and he hums in rapture. You’ve never met a man who didn’t enjoy having his hair played with, but Jungwoo seemed to love it the most. He leans into it unconsciously and a faint patch of goosebumps appears on the back of his neck accompanying another faint sigh.
Large palms that lay flat against your back pull you further against him. He sighs softly, lovingly pressing a kiss to your clothed skin. A softly whispered “Missed you baby” further weakens your tired limbs. Jungwoo does miss you frequently, but the utterance has an entirely new meaning when you’re alone together. Unintentionally, it’s become your secret signal mumbled before a fit of passion. When you’re too exhausted for filthier words or carefully constructed foreplay. Sometimes you just want to bask in the attention of your lover, your very souls aching for closeness. His touch on your skin could cure any ailment. With every press of his lips to yours your bustling mind falls silent. As if by telepathy, his fingertips coax their way under your clothes and tease the small of your back. “Long day?” He breathes, sweetly nipping at the fabric separating him from what is his. You only have the energy to huff and nod quietly. He hums disappointedly, scolding the universe for distressing his lover. His nose nudges at the buttons of your shirt, “can I help you relax”?
As if you had restraint left to deny yourself his proposition. You push his hair away from his forehead, not unlike he does out of nervous habit. It's usually difficult to see his pupils floating in a sea of chocolate brown. At this distance you can only just make out the line his eyes have drawn to your lips. The small attention draws you in meters more. He's often compared to a dog with good reason. He's loyal to a fault, gently protective, and utterly transfixed on any object of his interest. You're fortunate to be his, just as he feels fortunate to be yours. At the end of the day there are no two beings more obsessed, more cosmically bound together than you and him.
Before you can answer with your words, your body answers for you. Crawling onto his lap as you treat yourself to a tender, slow kiss. God. The serotonin courses through your veins ridding your thoughts of anything but him. You begin to feel faint when you realize you should, at some point, breathe. Pulling apart from your lover, your chests nudge gently with every inhale. His eyes are slightly hazy and he slips his hands over the pockets on your backside to ground himself. A spike of heat pricks you at the thought: he would not have pulled back if you hadn't, he would've kissed you until he nearly passed out if you wanted.
The delicious thoughts are rudely interrupted by a vibration of your phone, also in your back pocket. You sigh and stand up from your perch on your partner's lap to his utter displeasure. Pulling your phone out you tap the screen to reveal a text from your boss, then another, and another. Something about a project you're working on and a forwarded email chain? You don't get to read many messages before a shadow glowers over the screen and your phone is gently lifted from your hands. Nothing is said, only done. Jungwoo's lips are on yours and his hand cups your cheek tenderly. Your phone thrown onto the couch in favor of sliding an arm around your waist. Words are not needed, his lips tell you what he's too shy to say:
'Pay attention to me'. You're stepping backwards down the hallway, trusting him to guide you. 'I won't let anyone else bother you' His sweater doesn't last the short walk to your room, only separating for a brief moment to drop it on the floor before meeting again. Neither does yours; with every step another button is undone. A kiss pressed to any newly exposed skin before it can get lonely. 'I love you so much it hurts' you make a soft landing on the bedsheets, your back arching to help him get your top all the way off. One large hand slowly trails down your arm, the other follows his mouth ghosting down your torso and undoing the button of your trousers. Fuck he always knows exactly what you want. Cold air hits your core as your pants and panties are slipped off in one solid movement. You can barely lift your head what with all your energy going to your twitching clit. But Jungwoo gets right to it. His tongue peeks between the folds at first, then lathes in long strokes. He laps up your wetness slowly but feverishly, as if he’s holding himself back. Doesn’t wanna work you up too fast, wants to savor the moment. Wants to bring you up slowly, like massaging out a muscle knot, and be there to catch you as you fall over the edge of pleasure.
Of course he seeks his own gratification, but the truth is he gets such a rush from pleasing you. He’s always making you finish first, twisting his fingers in at just the right spot to make you squeal. Even when he’s in charge, he has to hold himself back from cumming until his abs twitch when your voice reaches that pitch you can only sing after being thoroughly overstimulated. He lives to please and boy does he ever.
“Shit” you curse as he circles one thumb on your clit just hard enough to work you closer and closer. You start to squirm a little against his tongue which pushes in and out lazily. “So good” you praise him breathily. He draws his mouth away from your needy cunt and straightens up a little onto his elbow. The hand that was thumbing your little bead is now two fingers deep in your slit. He drags the digits slowly back out before plunging them back in. Setting a rhythm that’s as unpredictable as it is electrifying. He curls them up and your hoarse moan cracks a bit in a way that tells him he’s doing it right. He leaves calm open mouth kisses on your clit as if your brain isn’t in total meltdown. It would be sweet if not for the way you’re squelching around his two, now three, fingers. Your right hand is ripped from its grounding white-knuckled grip on the sheets and it’s replaced with his warm, firm palm in yours. Your fingers lace together cutely and he squeezes your hand back in support. His lips seal over your clit again, and he hums wantonly like it’s his favorite candy. It might just be. His infinitely long and slender fingers dig deeper than ever before. That’s all it takes to throw you overboard. Your vision whites out as you cum, hard, all over his face and hand. Meanwhile, he’s working you through it pumping his fingers in and out slowly and kissing your swollen bud. You’re surely crushing his fingers in your hand but he doesn’t seem to mind. He would never mind. He finds it sinfully adorable how your small hands are dwarfed by his and yet your iron grip on his fingers can hold him in his place. It makes him feel like nothing but a servant to you. A wild beast leaning into your gentle touch, listening only to his master. He tries not to think too deeply about how much that turns him on.
You’re able to regain consciousness after a moment. Your hips buck unconsciously as his tongue swipes over you again. On a normal night you’d let him eat you until he’d had his fill of your tears and incoherent cries. But not tonight. You wanted to feel him inside all day long. Nothing complicated, nothing difficult. Just wanted him as close as physically possible. You take your free hand and paw at his hair, “Jung. No n-no more baby”. His hand laces around your wrist and pins it back to the bed parallel to your left hand. Misunderstanding your signal, he grunts lowly as in, ‘stay still’ and starts to work you up with his mouth again. You insist this time, “Jungwoo no baby. Just want you inside. Please. I needed you, wanted you all day just. Please”.
His dick was hard before, but now it’s absolutely aching. He gets his knees up underneath him and crawls over your body. Your mouths meet and it’s sloppy, slow. You can taste yourself when he slips his tongue across yours. Your chests are flush together save for what’s covered by his canvas joggers and your bra. You bite down gently on his lower lip, and he grinds himself down on your bare pussy. The way he practically whimpers at the stimulation has you clenching around nothing. You’re tempted to hide a tape recorder in your bedroom so you can replay his symphonies over and over whenever you want. His whines turn to breathy groans and he grinds himself down harder, unable to deny himself the dull pleasure. Your remaining slick is soaking through the fabric, multiplying the feeling by one hundred. But you can’t let him cum like this, he’ll be so bummed out he didn’t fill you up like you requested. Your hands, resting on his back since he let them go moments prior, slide around to his hips and you push him away with all your strength. “No Jung. You can’t”. He huffs frustratedly but he complies, knowing that you’re right. You’re always right. He loves you so much. “Okay, okay” he pants, “M’sorry. Got excited” he hangs his head on your shoulder and takes some deep breaths before he creams himself. Meanwhile you’re shimmying his joggers and briefs down enough for him to kick them off. He leaves a trail of wet kisses along your jaw, down your neck and over your still covered breasts. His hands slip under your body gingerly and undo the clasp of your lacy bra. Carefully unwrapping his present. His lips drag along each nipple, entranced there, as he pumps himself back to full hardness. He drags his head through your slick and primes himself at your entrance. Cheekily, he bites down just over your right breast as he slides home. He loves to mark right over your heart. Every time it beats you’ll be reminded it’s his.
You’re so warm and wet he sink down to his hips with no issue. He’s about average girth, but he’s just so long it’s like every time you fuck you feel it in your stomach. Suddenly you’re reminded of the time he pressed down on the bulge he made on your torso and your eyes practically rolled back. Your pussy squeezes over him like it remembers and he whines breathily. He’s so close to you in missionary like this. His arms cage you in and his skin clings to yours with the friction of sweat and spattered juices from your cunt. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he pulls back out. You feel every vein, every ridge drag along your insides and it breaks you. His pace starts at a crawl, just dipping in and out shallowly. Your frustration with the day comes to a head at his games. Scratching up his back, you take a fist full of his hair and yank it as hard as you can. He’s a little confused at first before you whisper in his ear “Jungwoo. I swear to God I’ll get up and leave you hard right here if you don’t get on with it”.
You don’t have to ask him twice. Jungwoo fucks you like it’s his damn job. The headboard banging against the wall makes you so glad your neighbors moved out last week. The helpless sounds that escape your lips are so embarrassing that your cheeks heat up. But there’s no way you can stop. Your body is responding too strongly. You’re panting, your head is blank. Except for the mindlessly strung together exclamations of ‘yes’ ‘so good’ ‘love you’.
“Love you too, baby I love you too” his thrusts come to a stop so he can lock lips with yours. It’s not pretty. It’s so filthy and shameless it can hardly be called kissing. But your stress is melting away anyways. He takes your legs and wraps them around his waist to push in even deeper. He resumes his onslaught with deep, punctuated thrusts. He’s groaning as if he’s in pain. One of his hands slips down to tease your clit again. This time it’s fast, not gentle. He’s pinching and pulling and rolling it every which way. You’re hitting that upper octave he craves and he takes the opportunity to fuck you into the mattress with his head resting just by your ear. If his actions didn’t get you, the sounds he’s making definitely do. He’s so sooo close to cumming. He wants to fill you up so bad, fuck his cum back in as many times as you wanted him to. But you had to cum first. He has to make you cum first. You’re his ruler, his queen, Her Majesty. And when Her Majesty comes home from work ready to jump his bones he’ll be damned if he doesn’t make you scream.
You’re clamping down on his dick as if you’re attempting to hold him in. A singular sweat drop drips from your lover’s chin onto your chest. You can’t even remember what was bothering you so much in the first place. You think you’re yelling a list of expletives but you’re so close you can’t even hear yourself. All you can hear are his strangled groans in your ear and all you can feel are his fingers on your spot and his member filling you. “M’ close Jung- fuck”, he’s got some sense of consciousness to respond, “use me, tell me what you want- how to make you feel good” you’re clawing at his back and flying off the cliff already when he hits a certain angle, “th- right there please god don’t stop”. His huge hand cups your cheek again and he aims directly at that sensitive spot just as you’ve asked him to. “Use me. Shit- use me to get off. I like, god I love it” his abs are so sore from clenching, holding himself back when you finally clamp down on him so hard your head lulls back completely into the mattress. He fucks you through it until he himself snaps and spills his load into your still twitching hole. You’re both breathing as if you’d ran a marathon. Yet you feel strangely lighter than before. Like all your burdens have been lifted. All your responsibilities and fears forgotten.
Chocolate brown eyes flutter open and peer into yours. He’s got a dastardly little smile on his post-coital face.
“Hmm you still seem tense. I think a second round would help”.
#nct jungwoo#nct 127#jungwoo imagines#jungwoo smut#jungwoo#nct dojaejung#nct scenarios#nct drabbles#nct reactions#nct x reader#nct smut#nct imagines
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Thank you @morelikeravenbore for the tag! I love answering these kind of questions and I loved reading through your answers!
I know I'm hardly known here on Tumblr, but that's fine. For those of my followers who are interested and because I find it fun to do, here are my answers to the following questions!
How many works do you have on AO3? I have 21 works. Most of them are oneshots or oneshot collections, but I also have a trilogy and a currently ongoing chaptered story.
What's your total AO3 word count? Uhh.. *checks* 429.608. Most of them are from the trilogy.
What fandoms do you write for? On AO3 I only write for the Hogwarts Legacy fandom. A long time ago I wrote for the f(x)/EXO/SHINee fandom on Asianfanfics, but I have deleted that account.
Top five fics by kudos? Oh, I'll have to look that up.. hm, alright:
1. In the Shadow of Sixth year (97)
2. In the Shadow of Seventh year (68)
3. A Naughty Collection - Hogwarts Legacy (48)
4. Sense of Touch (44)
5. In the Shadow of Summer (43)
Do you respond to comments? Yes! I try to respond to every comment, but I must admit sometimes I'm not able to respond right away and I might forget to, but I think I have responded to nearly every comment on AO3. I live for comments and am always happy when someone took their time to write one.
What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I don't like angsty endings, but "Happier" does have an angsty/unhappy ending. Together with "You look Happier". Both are oneshots I wrote to the song "Happier" by Olivia Rodrigo and "Happier" by Ed Sheeran respectively.
What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Hm.. considering all that happens in my trilogy, I'd say "In the Shadow of Seventh year", which is the final part, ends the happiest.
Do you get hate on fics? Not really. Only on one, but I still think that must've been a troll. They hated Poppy, yet commented on a oneshot that was Poppy centric (literally her and Ominis were the only characters in it). Other than that, no. Not that I am aware of at least.
Do you write smut? Yes. Though I don't write it in my chaptered stories. At most I'll have it heavily implied or some non-explicit foreplay. For my trilogy I made two seperate oneshots to write the smut. That way I leave the choice to the reader if they want to read that or not. It's not needed for the plot anyway.
Craziest crossover? None.
Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know. It's despicable some people actually do that.
Have you ever had a fic translated? Not for this fandom, but back in the day on Asianfanfics a couple of my oneshots were translated in Vietnamese and Tagalog.
Have you ever co-written a fic before? No, but if someone would want to, I'd be open for it.
All time favorite ship? Ominis x Poppy or Poppinis. When I first heard Poppy tell us about her family my immediate thought was like: I wonder what Ominis would think of that? And somehow that got me into shipping them and now I'm obsessed in love with them as a couple. And fun fact: it was my shipping them that got me into writing again after not having done so in over 8 years.
What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I have a lot of ideas, but only few of those I have started on. I tend to delete WIP's that I don't want to finish and the ones I do want to finish, I'll make sure to finish lol.
What are your writing strengths? Good question! But I think I'm good with writing certain emotions/feelings to the point the reader gains empathy for the character... other than that I really don't know. I try to be consistent with updates, do my research (to an extent) and try not to make any continuation errors.
Thoughts on dialogue in another language? I am totally fine with that (though I probably will never write it myself), as long as the correct phrasing is used and that the reader understands (or at least gets an idea) of what is being said.
But I do think it reads easier when the writer uses Italics to underline when a character speaks another language.
First fandom you wrote in? F(x) (Kpop group) back in 2012.
Favorite fic you've written? Definitely my trilogy "Shadows of Love" that consists of Part 1 "In the Shadows of Sixth year", Part 2 "In the Shadows of Summer" and Part 3 "In the Shadows of Seventh year".
The first part was my very first chaptered fic and the fact that I didn't only finish it, but wrote two more parts (25 chapters for the 1st part, 7 chapters for the 2nd and 45 chapters for the 3rd) and two smut oneshots accompanying it has been a major achievement for me and it really is my baby.
Special shoutout for my friends on Discord who supported and inspired me to continue! As well as all the readers (silent or not) who made me want to keep powering through! I love all of you!

Thank you for whoever it was that made up these questions! I had a great time thinking about them and answering! As well as look through the stats of my works haha.
Np tags for @writingannyred @mspegasus17 @sallowslove and @zetadraconis11
#hogwarts legacy#romance#gingerlegacy writes#sebastian sallow#mc#fanfiction#hogwarts legacy fanfic#sebastian sallow fanfiction#hogwarts legacy fandom#ominis gaunt#poppy sweeting#garreth weasley#sebastian x reader#ominis x poppy
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wheelercest smut headcanons?
Wheelercest Smut Headcanons!
I'm not great with writing/coming up with smut ideas but I hope you enjoy these thoughts I can come up with!
Warnings: Smut/nsfw (obvi)
-okay so FIRST AND FOREMOST
-Dom! Bottom Nancy and Sub!Top! Mike -I'm sorry i just can't see that boy as a top- especially not with NANCY -A switch/brat? 1000% but never a dom
-Okay so when they first start dating they don't actually start having sex -In attempts of justifying their relationship they always excuse it with "well we are only holding hands and kissing! We're not doing anything bad by just kissing and cuddling :D" - meanwhile they are white knuckling their chairs because theres only sm their own hands can do for them
-Eventually the frustration gets to them, they get into even more arguments than they did before they began dating and their friends are tired of them. Eventually Lucas makes a comment about Mike 'being so mad because he's celibate' and that 'he needs to get some before Max murders him'
-Nancy, being the older sister she is, decides to sit him down and find a solution when mike brings up the teasing, and after a few hours of back and forth, they decide that mutual masturbation could be a good even middle ground. -After all, they aren't touching each other just....getting off to each other. totally different -They lay down beside each other and (to no ones surprise) Mike shows Nancy a skin mag he kept hidden from their parents to get them started -Nancy is eh about it- she doesn't really like using porn for her pleasure but it gets her started -They sit so close- barely a hair lengths away with the magazine across their thighs as they shuck their clothes. -It starts off well enough, Mike- being a typical teenage boy- just tries to get into it meanwhile Nancy berates him for not even trying to make himself feel good. -He, of course, complains and bitches about her correcting him but she just rolls her eyes and tries explaining foreplay and building up your pleasure - "You've got to get yourself into the mood- starting soft isn't going to do anything than give your friction burn!" -"If you're so great at this then why don't you just do it then?" -And lets all remember, Wheelers are not ones to back down from a challenge. -And so Nancy doesn't even think twice before reaching over and grabbing his thigh, massaging his skin before kissing under his jaw. -Mike just bluescreens -Eventually it develops and it ends up with Nancy behind Mike, holding him to her chest as she stroked him- her fingers rolling over his cockhead and squeezing at his most sensitive spots. -He's moaning so loud that Nancy is praying to every god out there that a neighbor doesn't complain or hear them. -when he comes she doesn't pull off, instead stroking him through it before swiping his cum across his stomach, complaining about not having been able to even touch herself. -And Mike- he goes to help her cause while he's a douche sometimes he does want to return the favor. -but he's inexperienced, a bit sloppy and tries putting a finger in her without even checking if she's wet -She is, but not enough for straight penetration -So begins Nancy's neck lesson, teaching him where to touch, where to stroke and just where she was most sensitive. -he ends up getting the hang of it surprisingly well, and when she comes on his fingers he visibly deflates because he wanted to keep going now that they were finally touching -and that is when Mike learns girls have shorter recovery periods, and he makes it a personal mission to see how many times he can make her cum per session
-After this they kind of accept they're gross and just keep track of birth control options and fertility cycles because Nancy does not want to explain that
-Mike is the most sensitive of the two- especially when it comes to his sides, chest, stomach and inner thighs -Meanwhile Nancy's chest, thighs, the backs of her legs and her neck are her sweet spots. -Mike grows pretty tall, and so during sex he usually holds Nancy- sometimes from behind but typically he keeps her in his lap.
-They have a few preferred positions: The Amazon, Cowgirl, Lotus, really they mostly prefer facing eachother with Nancy on top. However Mike does sometimes having a bit more control of the pace (but thats reserved for when Nancy is rewarding him) -While I love couples doing pegging, I imagine they don't like it much- Mike doesn't mind it but he hates how odd the plastic feels. meanwhile Nancy would rather thrust and actually feel something more than a bit of clit stimulation. -Overall just not really their thing -they love exploring things- kinks, new positions, new acts, everything Mike's preferred Kinks: -Mike finds he enjoys pain- but not a ton of it. A few slaps here and there, spanking his thighs and ass, nails on his back and chest -Even more so he loves being told what to do (in the bedroom that is). -Loves oral- he prefers receiving more than giving but that doesn't mean he won't -He finds he really likes her hands- likes how they feel on him and how they look gripping things
Nancy's preferred kinks: -my girl loves being in charge of situations where she isn't saving lives -She also likes tying ropes and making intricate designs when she ties up mike. She thinks he looks particularly handsome with dark rope against his pale skin -She enjoys the feeling of lingerie and the texture of silk so she brings its into the bedroom and finds she enjoys it
-They kiss like they're starving, like- practically eating eachother
-like this type shit
Thank you for reading/ asking for this! It's kinda fun writing these- please give me any feedback if you can of anything!
#proship#proship community#antis dni#stranger things#proship please interact#wheelercest#wheelercest headcanons#mike wheeler#nancy wheeler
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Twenty Questions for Fic Writers
Thank you @iwrestledavongonce for nominating me :)
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
Lucky 13
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
460,677
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Almost exclusively Sailor Moon. I have a few other stories for Gargoyles and Legend of Korra that will probably never see the light of the internet.
4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
Cruelty and Fairness of Fate (surprising no one)
Much Ado About Dragons
Tangled Web
Dreams/Upon Waking (combo posting of both stories)
How the Dragon Queen Stole the Winter Festival
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
I do! It took me a minute to realize that feature was available, but I love that I can answer questions, geek out about these characters I love, or just say thank you 🥹 because I really appreciate when people leave comments.
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Dreams - nobody was happy and Makoto was spirling.
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Much Ado About Dragons - Rei’s fairytale had a classic happily ever after
8. Do you get hate on fics?
Not really. There were a few people back in the day on FF.net who took exception to teenagers having sex (have they actually read/watched the series?) or Makoto getting pregnant and being allowed to be happy in the end. But other than that, most interaction has been really good.
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
I did once, sort of. They got interrupted. 😅 But my writing filter is set to “fade to black” after foreplay. That said, if I can ever get up the nerve to put the words on paper, I’m game.
10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?
I have never written a crossover, but I’m not opposed to them.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I know of.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
I have! Or at least I’ve had a few people ask, don’t know if they ever completed the project. I believe it was for Spanish and Chinese.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Yes! My wife is also an SM fanfic writer, so we had to collaborate at least once. The result was Definitions of Longing and Desire. A fun little romp through post-baby hormones.
14. What’s your all time favourite ship?
Ami/Makoto. I don’t know what got me onto these two, but this ship means the world to me for so many reasons.
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
Every WIP I’ve got going will be finished. It may just take a really long time.
16. What are your writing strengths?
Characterization. I think I’m good at catching the character’s voices most of the time, though I find some a lot harder than others. And fleshing out their backgrounds/families/the world they live in. I like to think my OC’s (main characters’ families mostly) have just enough personality but don’t take over the story.*
*The one exception is Ami’s mother in the most recent series of stories. She became a main character because I wanted to pair her up with Setsuna.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
I love exposition. Sometimes a little too much. I need to get a little more action in and do a better job with economy of words in dialogue heavy scenes.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?
I’m not opposed to it. Like any other element, as long as it fits. It’s probably not something I’d do, but never say never.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
Probably Guiding Light. I’ve been putting stories on paper since middle school, and the soap operas I watched with my Grandmother were the first ones I wrote for. Sailor Moon was the first fandom I shared the writing with.
20. Favourite fic you’ve written?
This is hard and will change every time I’m asked. Dreams is the one that first comes to mind. I just really like the premise. Christmas Cheer is another that just makes me smile. I had a ton of fun with Christmas Elf Rei, and the Setsuna/Serenity segment makes me cry every time even though I wrote it. LOL
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{minors & ageless blogs dni}
🍑 on writing smut..
1 - writing smut is an exploration not a reflection of who you are and it’s great way to delve into your sexuality/kinks in a safe manner. your writing should turn you on, just as much as your audience 😌 so, don’t force yourself to write about things that you don’t like - even if you think it might generate more notes and give you more interactions.
2 - if you’re stuck while writing a piece try focusing on the five senses - sight, smell, touch, sound, and taste. ask yourself some questions to help build the scene > ex: are the characters looking into each others eyes or a specific body part? what kind of cologne/perfume do they smell on their partners? are they warm to the touch? can they feel the goosebumps on their partner’s skin? are they vocal or quiet? did their breathing change? can they taste strawberry lip gloss or a lingering cigarette with just a kiss? etc.
3 - don’t get intimidated by inexperience (& I am using this description a little loosely, but it applies however you may take it). you can always draw inspiration from videos, gifs, audio clips, and reading other works + researching certain subjects/kinks is also super helpful!
4 - respect your boundaries/space as a writer - you don’t have to explain your reasoning for why you want to write about a certain kink or sexual act. in turn, the best way you can respect the boundaries of a reader is by tagging fics appropriately!
5 -not all smut has to include some type of penetration. you can deliver an equally steamy piece by merely focusing on foreplay.
6 - body parts are what they are & there is no reason to complicate what to call them in a fic lol keep it simple
7 - if you’re still insecure about writing a long and drawn out sex scene, try focusing on building the tension leading up to the moment! the few steamy paragraphs you end up writing will always hit different if you have some good tension 🫠
8 - don’t forget that every act is intimate - no matter how fluffy or dirty you write your smut piece and a good way to relay that is by describing the characters emotion in the moment - think about their inner thoughts towards their partner: what are they thinking? how are they feeling? are they happy, nervous, stupidly horny or angry? this is also a good way to enhance the smut without actually writing anything super descriptive regarding actions.
9 - note reactions; lashes fluttering, back arching, jaw twitching, lip biting, legs shaking…point out the responses to every touch, kiss, thrust…
10 - finally, you don’t have to force yourself to consistently write smutty pieces. It does get exhausting/boring writing about it all the time, and that’s okay! if you still want to write about intimacy but not focus on actual sex try thinking about other things like aftercare, domestic moments, or love confessions.
> I feel like you can never have too many writing tips, and wanted to share these because I think it’s interesting that I write smut quite often for this blog. I used to run a blog for another fandom before this account and I was very insecure about writing smut! I definitely feel like I’ve grown over time, and I’m always learning from other amazing writers and creators! I just wanted to give my two cents on things that have helped me 🧡
#writing tips#feel free to add on if you like !#& I don’t mind sharing more of you guys like these 😊#I know so many of us write smut#but if you’re new to writing or are just coming back after a long break (like I did)#and find writing smut intimidating/awkward#I hope this helps in some way 🧡🧡🧡#peach says hi#this did turn out longer than expected lmao
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Crosshair - The First Time
Crosshair x Female Reader (One Shot)
Warning: SMUT 18 + NSFW
PiV Sex/ Cunnilingus/ FiV/ Reader Is A Sex Worker/Sex Work/ First Time For Crosshair
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Author's Comment:
Practically in every story with Crosshair that I read, he is a wild stallion, dominant and the king of female climax. That's fine, honestly, these stories are usually pretty hot and I enjoy reading them. But last night I lay awake in bed thinking about the inexperienced Crosshair and his first time. Of course I had to write something about it. Well, here goes nothing. _____________
The First Time
Crosshair sat in the neatly decorated hotel room. Colorful cloths were hung everywhere, presumably to make it seem more homey.
He was nervous, very much so, but of course he didn't let it show and he would never admit it. He had come here because he wanted to finally have his first experience, of an intimate nature. He was a clone, had not lived long and yet he was a grown man and a certain curiosity had taken hold of him lately.
He had checked you out before, you were one of the best, state certified, regular checkups and you were one of the kind who could pick her clients.
He had had to officially apply for this visit. Crosshair knew you were popular with the men and women, your clients raved about you. The fact that he was sitting here and now in your hotel room on your bed, lit by candles and smelling of your wonderful perfume, was already driving his pulse up.
His armor pieces were on a chair next to the bed, he was sitting there in his blacks. He had put on fresh clothes, showered properly beforehand, and shaved down below. Crosshair wanted to do everything right.
The first time he saw you live, when you opened the door for him, he had swallowed his voice for a brief moment. You were stunning, your holo image did not do justice to your true appearance.
Crosshair was tall, he had to look down at you, yet he felt strangely small for a moment as he looked into your eyes and lost himself in them.
You were wearing a simple wrap dress that was slightly sheer, he could very clearly see your gorgeous curves underneath and how your nipples showed under the fabric.
He blinked as you leaned down to him and gently but firmly took the toothpick out of his mouth and tossed it into a wastebasket next to a desk at the other end of the room.
Walking back towards him you granted him a soft smile.
"Your application was interesting," he heard you say in a gentle voice.
He looked up at you as you stood in front of him.
"Oh yeah?", he asked trying to play it cool.
"Yes" you returned honestly "I don't have many men who will admit that they want to experience their first time with me"
Your hand gently rested on his cheek and on impulse, he automatically nuzzled into the touch, his eyes continuing to fix on your handsome face.
"But there's more" he said hesitantly.
With a smile, you looked at him questioningly.
"And that would be?"
"Before we get to the actual act, could you show me a few things that can be used to satisfy a woman?"
"You mean some things for foreplay?"
Crosshair nodded. He was nervous as hell, but he pulled himself together.
"What would you prefer? To pleasure her with your fingers? With your mouth? With toys?" you probed.
He cleared his throat and said, "The first two."
You opened the wrap dress and let the fabric slide to the floor. You could see his eyes getting bigger and darker as he looked at your naked body.
You took your hand from his cheek and he instantly missed the warmth of the touch. He would never have thought that one could long to be touched so much. In his life there was no place for tenderness, he had been created as a soldier, he knew no other life. But he had often wondered what a normal life would have been like, had it been granted to him.
Crosshair was snapped out of his thoughts as you reached for his hand, his right hand, and brought it up over your belly to your breasts. He stared at you from wide eyes as you placed his long fingers over your boob and then reached for his second hand to place it over your other.
You knelt over his lap, guiding his fingers, and said in a calm, gentle voice, "Move your fingers a little, don't stiffen, relax."
He cleared his throat awkwardly, feeling his Blacks pants already stretching over his hard length. His long fingers moved along the soft skin of your breasts, he reached out, gently, testing. You let him. Your buds stood up, stretching towards him, and he gently caressed them, massaging them softly between his fingers.
When he looked up into your face and saw you closing your eyes with pleasure, he felt pride rising in him.
"Can I touch you with my mouth?" he asked.
Your eyelids slowly opened, you looked at him with a knowing smile and nodded at him.
"Yes, you may."
His hands moved to your sides and up your back as his mouth moved to one of your nipples. His tongue slid over it, circling around it while his lips nestled against your breasts.
He was a natural, you couldn't deny that. Your pearl was already craving attention, pulsing and swelling.
Your fingers ran through his gray hair, your nails gently scraped his skull, and he moaned softly against your chest.
After a little while, he let go of your breasts, leaned back to look up at you and said. "I want to know more, show me more".
His voice was husky and demanding.
You released yourself from his grip, climbed onto the bed, lay down, with your back leaning against a mountain of pillows, you opened your thighs and beckoned him towards you with one finger.
Crosshair swallowed, you could see it clearly, his gaze fell on your open thighs and the velvety bloom of your pubic that now lay uncovered before him. He crawled between your thighs, his broad shoulders resting between them like a spreader.
His fingers slid over the inside of your thighs and you smiled at him.
When his fingers reached your sex, he looked up at you a little uncertainly.
You let your fingers slide down your body until they slid over his fingers and you guided him to your wet folds. You showed him where your pearl was and explained how sensitive it was. Crosshair touched it very carefully, curiously feeling every area you explained to him.
When you finally guided one of his fingers to your entrance and let it slowly penetrate you, he watched with widened eyes as his finger advanced into your body. He felt the moist, warm tightness of your pussy and swallowed.
"That's where you're going to put your cock later," you said with a soft moan.
Unconsciously, he pressed his pelvis harder on the bed, his hard length harder into the mattress.
"Women are different" you said "For some, penetration alone is not enough. That's where the little bundle of nerves I showed you before comes in."
Crosshair looked up at you questioningly for a moment, finally his mouth came so close to your heated sex that you felt his breath tickle your pearl.
"May I?" he asked huskily.
You didn't let just anyone do that, definitely not, but you were curious and if you were honest, you liked this man, a lot. You nodded.
"Try it," you said softly.
A hoarse moan came from your lips as his tongue drove onto your pearl. It took him a moment to find the rhythm and pressure point, but very soon he was applying steady, circular pressure and you felt the intensity building in your pussy.
On his own, he inserted a second finger into your entrance, moving his fingers inside you while his tongue and lips eagerly worked your clit. Your fingers went into his hair again and his moans vibrated through your pussy.
He murmured against your pearl, "Can I make you orgasm like this?"
It took you a brief moment before you answered hoarsely, "Yes, you're already on your way there."
He growled in satisfaction and increased his efforts, applying more pressure. His free hand reached for one of your buns and took a good grip.
"Then cum for me, beauty," he growled into your pussy.
Your thighs quivered around his head, your whole abdomen trembled and you could swear that he grinned contentedly as he worked you.
"Yes... now ..ooooh," his tongue worked you wildly through your orgasm, pulsing tinglingly through your abdomen, down into your curling toes.
When he let go of you, Crosshair sat up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. You could see the bulge in his pants, which wasn't exactly small. He pulled his top off over his head and finally slipped out of his pants as well before kneeling between your legs again. His body was lean but steeled. hard muscles stood out utner tanned skin.
"Was that good enough?" he asked critically.
With a satisfied smile you said, "It was very good, especially for a beginner."
Your gaze wandered to his hard length.
His cock was more massive than you had thought. Thick, heavy, long, it stood out from his body in a gentle curve, the velvety tip slightly swollen, a drop of precum on it. You opened a drawer on your nightstand and took out one of the larger condoms, peeling it from its wrapper. Crosshair watched you do it intently. You sat up, directly in front of him.
"Protection, for both of us, you get to cum inside me with that too," you explained.
He licked his lips nervously and nodded. Crosshair watched you slip the condom over his member, groaning as you touched him down there, no one but himself had ever touched him so intimately.
The heart in his chest was beating fast and wild, he was excited, nervous. Even if he had just carried an incredible feeling of elation because he had given you an orgasm, now he suddenly felt very insecure again.
Gently you kissed his neck, he shuddered and moaned softly.
"Do you want to be on top or at the bottom?" you asked him quietly.
It took him a moment before he stammered, "U.... um top."
You slowly leaned back into the pillows and pulled him with you. Lying between your thighs, he looked at you, nervous as a cornered cub.
"There's no need to be tense, you're not being judged or evaluated. We are alone and none of what we share here today will be painful," you spoke calmly, stroking his cheek.
Crosshair swallowed, but finally nodded. He looked down at your laps touching each other. He looked uncertain.
"Do you want me to help you?" you asked gently.
Again he nodded.
Your hand moved down between the two of you and gently grasped his cock. You guided it to the entrance of your pussy and whispered to him, "Now."
Crosshair thrust his hips forward into your lap, his hard length sinking into your soft, wet heat. The feeling was overwhelming, he could hardly believe how it felt, so warm, so soft, so real. This wasn't one of his fantasies he used when he touched himself to blow off steam. Your warmth enveloped him and befuddled every one of his senses.
You felt him filling you up, a wonderful feeling, but you already knew that this wouldn't last long, he was way too overwhelmed, but that didn't matter, the experience would still stay with you for a long time. He was one of the very few who had been able to bring you to an orgasm at all.
He was breathing heavily as he began to move inside you, his body trembling. Every muscle seemed tense and hard as steel as your fingers slid over his shoulders onto his back and your legs wrapped gently around him. His cock twitched in your cleft and he was breathing so hard that you were afraid he would collapse on top of you.
You kissed his chin and said softly, "This is a learning process, no one expects performance the first time, relax, enjoy it, you've already satisfied me."
Crosshair avoided your gaze and said meekly, "I.... am already done"
"Oh" you said surprised but smiling "That's okay. Even that kind of stamina can be learned if you want to"
With a grim expression he left your body, got up from the bed, pulled off the condom and threw it into the wastebasket where you had thrown the toothpick earlier. Crosshair bent down for his equipment and wiped something out of it. He finally tossed a small but thick bag of credits onto your nightstand.
He looked at you piercingly and growled, "I want you for the whole night. We have a lot of work to do. You have to teach me more"
________________
A little side note, an answer I just wrote to a comment I thought is worth mentioning here: I thought Crosshair is a guy who'd rather learn even intimacy by a professional before engaging in any intimate contact with someone else. I feel like he's the kind of guy who always want's to come out of everything on top. He has that toxic kind of masculinity that makes him want to be an expert in everything, failing is not an option. So, in a way, there is kind of a bitter aftertaste when you think about it.

@the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond
@moonstrider9904
@chxpsi
@brynhildrmimi
@clone-whore-99
@nunanuggets
#crosshair#star wars#the bad batch#clonelove#clone force 99#tbb#sw tbb#bad batch crosshair#clone trooper crosshair#commander crosshair#crosshair bad batch#crosshair tbb#crosshair the bad batch#crosshair x reader#crosshair x you#tbb crosshair#the bad batch crosshair#bad batch#star wars the bad batch#crosshair smut#tbb crosshair smut#tbb crosshair x reader#tbb crosshair x you#crosshair vibes#nervous crosshair#first time corsshair#crosshair fic#crosshair fanfiction#smut
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i saw you did Eddie and that was Top Tier takes... can you do naughty abc's for Miles? 👀 love reading your smut, it's *chefs kiss*
(my essays sitting in microsoft word with 40 words in them, watching me write porn: >:(
also thank you <3 haha i love writing smut because when i write fluff/angst/whatever people are like oh that's very nice but people lose their minds over some cock and balls and it gives me life.
also miles likes toys and public sex so if ur not into that sorry but skip this lmao!!!! ur loss babe.)
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MILES UPSHUR NSFW ALPHABET
Aftercare | Miles is very attentive when it comes to aftercare. He'll spring up immediately (even if on wobbly legs) and go fetch some towels and get a bath running. Will constantly ask if his partner is okay, to the point where it gets annoying, but in an endearing way. But sometimes, when the fuck has been too good, he'll just lay there with a glazed over look in his eyes and a lazy grin, just trying to recover. Then it's his partner who has to do all the work and make sure he gets back to this world in an orderly manner. After cleaning up, lots of cuddles. Maybe takeout.
Body part | He loves a good, chunky ass. The more it jiggles when he fucks his partner from behind, the better. On his own body, he likes his legs. He has beautiful, defined calves. Would you believe me if I told you he runs a lot?
Cum | Let's just say Miles drinks pineapple juice on the daily. He likes to make sure his partner is craving for him to cum down their throat, begging for his musky, bittersweet, potent seed. Also, Miles cums a lot. Lots of precum, too. Quite the load to take.
Dirty secret | If his partner wears panties, he will want to masturbate with them. Something about the naughtiness of his partner's used panties wrapped around his cock as he pumps it on lonely nights, hoping he'd get caught and maybe - he'd get punished.
Experience | Miles has had a few boyfriends and girlfriends in his college times, so he knows what to do and is confident about it. Knows what works and what doesn't and a lot of techniques he's learned from here and there.
Favorite position | Doggy and reverse-anything. Pretty much every position where he can grab his partner's ass or pull their hair from behind, leaning in to whisper sweet, giggly nothings into his partner's ear as his thrusts grow sloppy and erratic as he's about to cum.
Goofy | Miles is very goofy and non-serious, especially when it comes to aftercare and even foreplay. When things get intense, he'll of course shut up (save for his moaning), but he'll be cracking jokes, making sure to ask if his partner's okay or if he needs to adjust that pillow under their hips before diving in - basically, Miles likes to keep the atmosphere light and loving with no shame or discomfort involved. Unless it's a roleplay situation or his partner specifically asks him to be serious, he'll be acting funny all the time.
Hair | Honestly, Miles likes everything to be neat and well groomed when it comes to his downstairs area. But he can sometimes get a little wild with it. He's definitely the kind of guy to run to his partner after the shower and drop his towel and present what wonky shape ("It's a heart, babe - does it really look like a triangle to you? What the hell?") he just shaved in on his pubes, razor burn and all. It's kind of adorable.
Intimacy | Miles is always very intimate and romantic, even when he's spitting in his partner's mouth or spanking them. He's always loving and kind of sappy, lots of compliments and sweet talk throughout, mixed in with little jokes.
Jack off | He masturbates pretty often. It's just a habit, especially if his partner and him live apart. Sometimes he just needs a good orgasm before going on with his day. He'll be kind of annoyed with his body, though, and will reluctantly pull down his jeans while spitting into his hand, but the frustration melts away as soon as he starts to deal with his little problem.
Kink | Exhibitionism, maybe a little bit of voyeurism, mutual masturbation and watching porn together, face sitting, clothed sex and frottage.
Location | His jeep, the bathroom of a bar, against the washing machine - the more unorthodox and semi-public (or very public) the more he likes it. Gets his adrenaline pumping. But he can't deny his soft and comfortable bed is probably the best for everyone's backs. And sanity.
Motivation | PDA. If his partner is all over him outside of the house, he's toast. He'll want to bend them over the nearest surface, even if it's out in public. Of course he won't, but it doesn't change the fact that he gets painfully hard if his partner teases him in public. Also just the usual lovey dovey stuff gets him going. Cuddling always turns into him being all handsy.
No | Petplay and ageplay. He thinks it's weird. Not up his alley.
Oral | When Miles needs to unwind for the day, he'll ask his partner if they can give him a blowjob. But in almost every other scenario, he prefers giving oral rather than receiving. Mostly because he doesn't really know what to do with himself when he's being blown - his hands will wander as he's basically just begging to touch his partner. He needs to be tied up if his partner wants to drain his balls with their mouth. Otherwise he'll just be too eager to return the favour.
Pace | Miles is quite fast, when he's very horny or otherwise pent up. Clothes flying off, sloppy, quick kisses, all that. But he'll slow down if his sweetheart asks him to. He'll blush and apologize profusely for being too fast - but once he's balls deep, all thoughts of taking things slow disappear from his mind.
Quickie | Quickies are one of his favourite things. He likes the casual nature of a good quickie, loves how his partner has to fix themselves up before leaving the room so that nothing's suspicious. Semi-public quickies, car quickies, things like that turn him on so much. It also comes down to the risk factor - will he be able to make his partner cum on his tongue before their lunch break ends? It's almost like a challenge to him and he loves it. Miles loves quickies.
Risk | Miles likes to experiment. And his exhibitionism is also very risky sometimes, as it is dependent on taking risks in public. So, overall, he enjoys a little bit of risk with everything he does.
Stamina | Miles has pretty good stamina. Especially with a cockring, he could go for an hour or so without getting tired at all. He can go two rounds at most before his body shuts down, though. He wants more but his brain tells him not to.
Toys | Miles owns so many toys. He'll definitely use them on himself as well as on his partner. He loves using toys on his partner because he thinks it's incredibly arousing so see someone lost in pleasure. In his opinion, toys exist to augment fantasies and make sex more enjoyable - and who doesn't want that? Miles loves those couple vibrators, too. And mutual masturbation with a whole arsenal of sex toys at his and his partner's disposal. He also loves writing reviews on them. Anonymously, of course.
Unfair | Teasing depends on Miles' mood. Sometimes, when he's feeling super frisky, he'll be very teasing and unfair in the bedroom. However, he also just loves giving in, having cuddly sex where no one gets teased.
Volume | Miles mostly lets out little grunts and groans here and there, but when he cums, he'll be very loud, hissing through his teeth, letting needy moans spill from his lips. Lots of swearing, too.
Wild card | He has a "sex playlist" on Spotify but he always forgets to put it on so it just sits in his library.
X-ray | His cock is a solid six and a half inches with a thick shaft and a somewhat smaller glans. Uncut. Firm balls. Curved, perfect for those hard-to-reach spots.
Yearning | Miles has a pretty high sex drive, but he'll respect his partner's wishes, if they have a lower libido. That's what all of his toys are for, not to mention his hand!
Zzz | Miles will not fall asleep afterwards, at least not very quickly. Miles gets a little boost of energy from his orgasm, but when it fades out, he'll feel pretty tired.
#damn i need to make a gif of miles struggling against his restraints i'm running out of gifs here#tragic#outlast#outlast fanfiction#outlast x reader#miles upshur#miles upshur x reader#not sfw#alphabet#gender neutral reader
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