#for now i shall settle with drawing him

[museofvoid]

i want to cosplay him so bad y'all have no idea

[askblueandviolet]

*appears in front of your house at night, stands there and gives you a headpat*

You're cool

*proceeds to disappear into thin-air*

(your writing is so good wtf)

MASTER POST

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[msgexymunson]

Soft Touches

Description: you and your dealer Eddie get a little closer than anticipated.

Warnings: acquaintances to lovers, reader is AFAB, weed smoking (both parties so no real dub con), fem oral receiving, praise kink, p in v unprotected sex.

A/N: It's my birthday! And I'm high, and horny, so happy birthday! If you've read my work you KNOW I'm a sucker for the first time y/n fucks Eddie. When I'm a benevolent dictator it shall be a universal holiday ;)

4k words

Masterlist

“Eddie, what the hell was in that?” 

Floating in a cloud of your high, the entire room seemed to glow in pink and orange, senses tinged in a sunset glow. You were definitely stoned out of your tree if you were comparing Eddie's stuffy, cramped room to a breath-taking sunset. 

“It's a new strain I got from Rick. You feeling it?” 

“Oh, I'm feeling it alright. I can hear colours.” 

Eddie's rich laugh echoed off the walls of his trailer. He laid on the bed casually, one arm slung beneath his head making his tight t-shirt ride up slightly. Just a peek of his happy trail was on display, which you tried, and failed, not to stare at. 

It was proving difficult, especially since you sat criss-cross apple sauce on his floor. His body was eye level, handcuff belt shining softly in the low light. The glint of that drew your eyes even lower, concentrating on the bulge you could see in his jeans.

You thought you were being sneaky. You absolutely were not. 

“Hey, sweetheart, you gonna answer me or just stare at my dick?” 

“Huh?” 

Shaking your head as if to clear it, you finally met his gaze. 

“I said, you can come lay up here if you want.” 

Halfway between getting up and still in a weird little crouch his words finally filtered through your addled brain. 

“I wasn't staring at your dick!” 

“Whatever you say, baby girl.” 

Frozen, mind empty of comebacks, you clambered out of your goblin stance and stood up, when the blood decided to rush to your head. 

“Oh Holy shit.” 

Your knees buckled, and you would have ended up face first on Eddie's carpet if he hadn't caught you. 

“Easy there, I've got you.” 

Eddie's firm hands held your upper arms tightly as he manoeuvred you to sit on his bed. The room was spinning, everything was drifting out of focus. 

“I need to lie down.” 

Eddie pulled you towards his pillows and laid you down gently, picking your legs up and settling them on the bed with you. Staring up at his off white ceiling, things began to drift back in. Once the room finally stopped swooping around in your vision, you started to come to your senses. 

You are on Eddie Munson's bed. You knew him, sure, only in a ‘can I come round so you can smoke us out and listen to music’ kind of way. You'd hardly call him a friend. This though, feeling the heat of his body next to you, him leaning on his side staring at you worriedly seemed entirely outside of your current arrangement. 

Suddenly the air was stifling, Eddie's warmth only exacerbating the matter. 

“You alright?” 

“Yeah, just really warm. And fucking high.” 

Eddie laughed, relieved.

“Thank fuck, I was scared for a minute.” 

You fumbled at the hem of your oversized sweater, attempting to wriggle it up your body but all motor skills were beyond you right now. 

“Eddie.” You pouted at him, flapping the edge of your sweater with frustrated hands. 

“You want this off?” 

“Please.” 

He flashed you a mischievous grin and pulled up upright, beginning to draw the offensive sweater up and over your form. 

“Didn't think you'd be begging me to undress you sweetheart.” 

Rolling your eyes in response, you held your arms over your head like a petulant toddler. Sweater removed and tossed to the foot of the bed, you risked a glance at Eddie. He was entirely preoccupied, staring at your bare midriff that was now on display. 

“It's a crop top Eddie, get over it.” 

Flinging yourself back down on the pillow, Eddie coughed, looking a little flustered, and settled in next to you. 

“Sorry, I didn't expect it. You always wear baggy shit.” 

“Comfortable shit, thank you. I come here to smoke, it's not New York fashion week.”

Eddie ran a finger across you, just below your belly button. The barely there touch blazed across your skin. 

“I didn't know you had your belly button pierced.” 

Looking down, you watch as his fingers circle it, then flick the little jewel dangling off the end. Thighs clamping together out of sheer necessity, you attempt to ignore it. 

“Yeah, got it done when I was like 15, two towns over. Probably my least painful piercing. Apart from ears, of course.”

Apparently, Rick's new strain also makes you run your mouth, as well as being insanely warm and horny. It seemed you had captured Eddie's attention. He turned further towards you, one hand holding his head up. The other, much to your relief, stayed on your stomach. You're not sure he was even aware he was still stroking your skin. 

“Least painful? What other piercings do you have?” 

You seriously considered dodging the question, but it's difficult to be devious directly to those big wet eyes of his. It's like trying to lie to a baby cow. 

“Well, I got my nose done, but the piercing fell out and I didn't bother to get a new one. That one stung. But the worst had to be my… my nipples.” 

The whole bed lurched as Eddie jumped up and sat cross legged facing you. He practically flew into action, grabbing his cigarettes and a lighter as if you were about to tell him some epic tale. 

“Right, tell me everything.” 

Whilst laughing at his wide eyed expression, you realise he's being completely serious. 

“Well, they er, they like, sanitise the… area, draw a dot where they're going to pierce you and tell you to take a deep breath in and it's done. It's super quick actually. It's more the after part that hurts. Why are you interested?” 

Eddie pushes his hair behind one ear, the tip of it is glowing scarlet, you notice. 

“I was thinking about getting it done my last birthday but I didn't have the cash.” 

He's staring at you, nervously chewing on a hang nail. You can practically see the unasked question dancing on his tongue. You weren't going to offer, hell no. If he wants to see he has to ask. The thing is, the way your tummy is bubbling right now, you don't think you could say no to those eyes of his. 

The question remains unsaid. He merely offers you a drag on his cigarette which you take gratefully, before he's stubbing it out and laying back down next to you. 

“How you feeling now? Bit less baked?” 

“Oh I'm still fucked, but I can see straight and I don't feel sick.” 

His fingers begin their dance again, skating over your exposed flesh, stroking down your side to your hip, across your stomach, and back again. You want to mention it. He's never touched you like this before, but you also don't want him to stop. 

“Good. Not inviting you over again if you hurl on my bed.” 

Giggling, you turn and face him. You're both on your sides now, knees close to knocking. His shirts ridden up again and before you can even register what you're doing you've placed a delicate hand on his hip. His eyes widened briefly, but that's it. Both of you are touching the others bare flesh, whispers of touches. Little, tentative things, like the bursting of soap bubbles on skin. 

“I wouldn't hurl on your bed. I'm sure I'd at least make it to the bathroom. I'm not an animal.” 

Eddie just grins in response, and you look at each other, really look. His dopey smile is the same as yours, and it seems neither of you want to mention how this seems to be rolling into very unfamiliar territory. 

“Eddie?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Why are you touching me?” 

He pushes infinitesimally closer, his knee now slotting between yours. It's a small gesture, but suddenly the situation feels even more intimate than before. 

“Because. Because it feels good. You're soft, and warm. And you keep making little noises.” 

“I do?” 

He smooths his hand higher, thumb dragging along the underside of your breast, and you let out a tiny, quivering whimper.

“See? Like that.” 

Opening your legs slightly wider, Eddie's knee pushes naturally further forward, his thigh now wedged between yours. His breath is fanning your nose; cigarettes, weed, and sweet snacks. 

“So sweetheart, why are you touching me?” 

Your hand presses a little more firmly, snaking underneath the hem of his shirt. With no complaint forthcoming, you reach further up, stroking his side, up over his ribs, and back down again. He responds in kind. Every kiss of fingers is electrifying, filling the room with a soft, dense tension. 

“Because it feels good. Because I saw a bit of skin and I couldn't resist.” 

“Yeah?” He's smirking as he says it, but you're beyond playing games at this point. 

“Yeah.” 

“I didn't know I was irresistible.”

You pinch his skin a little and he stares at you like you just betrayed him. 

“I didn't say that, you're twisting my words.” 

“Pretty sure I heard-” 

Cutting him off with a tickle to the ribs, he grabs your hand to stop you. 

“OK, OK! You were right, I was wrong. Nice touches again please.” 

His hand swiftly makes its way back to your skin and you continue to stroke him. 

“Nice touches?” 

“Yeah, it feels really good.” 

Running your hand up, you graze his nipple, and then bring it back down, down, until you reach the top of his jeans. You graze a finger, just one, under them, sweeping across his tensing abs. Then, you move up to more innocent flesh. 

“Jesus Christ.” 

Eddie's chest is heaving, fingers pressing indents into your flesh. 

“Nice enough?” you're the one smirking this time, pleased at the effect you're having on him. 

“Yeah.” 

It's barely a word, more of a breath. You scoot closer toward him, just a couple of inches, but it's close enough to feel his thigh start to press against your heat. Gasping at the pressure, you rub subtly against his thigh to try and relieve your mounting feelings, no matter how slightly. 

Eddie's hand starts making a trembling journey up your form, fingers twisting underneath your top. Feeling the underside of your bare breast, you both gasp. Eddie undoubtedly because you weren't wearing a bra, you because, well, the obvious. The slightest graze had your nipple hardening instantly, hips rocking forward without your control. 

“Is this OK?” 

“Yeah. Please.” 

Fingers stretching further, Eddie finally brushes your nipple. The feeling is magnified by your piercing; they've felt more sensitive since you got them done.

The moan that escapes is louder than you meant but it couldn't be helped. This simple touch is igniting through your nerves and rushing to your high brain. 

“Shit, they are pierced.” 

It seems to be a thought that Eddie said out loud by accident as he rubs his fingers over your ruddy nipple, slowly circling the silver balls of the jewellery. 

Another moan breaks from you, even louder this time.

“Fuuuuck Eddie.” 

“Yeah?” 

His touches become firmer, rubbing your nipple between thumb and forefinger, mapping the way your face scrunches up with his eyes.

“Yeah, jeez. They're really sensitive.” 

Practically panting in each other's mouths, your noses rub together. 

“Can- can I kiss you?” 

His words are so hesitant that it makes you giggle. Pressing your lips in a swift kiss to his full bottom lip, you respond. 

“I'd be mad if you didn't.” 

Eddie wastes no more time, pressing a hot open mouthed kiss to you that you reciprocate in kind. You keep it slow, leisurely traversing new territory with soft, exploring tongues. Naturally your arms encircle him, pulling him closer, closer. His arm snakes around your back as your bodies press together, like puzzle pieces slotting together and finding their perfect match. Eventually you break away to take a gasping breath as Eddie presses kisses to your collarbone.

“I don't know why we waited so long to do that.” 

“We? I thought you just wanted me for free drugs!” 

You giggled loudly at that, so loud it came out as a snort, but it didn't matter. The moment was so honest that being cool had nothing to do with it. You were bare, in a way, and so was he. 

Eddie chuckled with you as he slowly but surely pushed you onto your back, slipping both of his legs between yours. Pushing your hips up, you feel his hardness graze your pubic bone. 

“Eddie?” 

He hums a response, lips and tongue busy loving on your neck. You tug at the hem of your top and pull upwards. Eddie gets the message, moving out of the way briefly so you can strip it off. 

There you are, bare chested in front of him. You'd be nervous, if you hadn't seen the longing in his eyes. He's kneeling, one arm leaning on the mattress whilst the other compulsively strokes your side. 

“Jesus Christ your tits are perfect.” 

The moment stretches just a little too long for comfort; you're a hair's breadth away from crossing your arms over your chest when Eddie leans down and runs his tongue around and around one nipple. Mewling pathetically, you lace your fingers in Eddie's soft waves and tug. In response his teeth graze you as he sucks softly; then he gives the other just as much attention. 

Shuddering and wriggling under him, you can't do anything but whine, your hips undulating upwards to chase some friction, some release, anything. 

“Eddie, please, I need you.” 

“Umph,” He responds, muffled by your chest, “I need you to say that again.” 

“Eddie I swear to God if you don't- ” 

He laughs, cutting off your sentence. 

“Alright baby girl, I got you.” 

Working his way down your front, he takes his time planting soft kisses, making you writhe at each touch of his lips, until he reaches your shorts. 

Flicking the button open, he slowly drags the zip down and finds the little sliver of red panties poking out. 

“Hearts? Cute.” 

Thick fingers plunge into your clothes and pull them away, flinging your shorts and panties across the room into the void that was Eddie's carpet. 

Insecurity finally gripped its claws into you. What if he didn't like what you looked like down there, smelled like, tasted like? 

A moment of unadulterated panic, and then Eddie licked his tongue, slowly yet firmly, between your lips and all the way up. Barging your thighs further apart with his shoulders, he rooted your clit out with his tongue, running dizzying circles and sucking at it desperately. 

Eddie's moans rivalled your own, such neediness etched in you swear his fingerprints will be left on the outside of your thighs like tattoos, simply from the force he held you with. Barely able to shake, you compensated by pulling his hair and guiding his tongue exactly where you needed it. 

He pushed a thick calloused finger into you slowly, looking up at you as he did so. You back arched off the bed. He felt around, staring at you with such intensity you that you were seconds away from telling him to quit staring when-

“Oh God, oh fuck!” 

Eddie smirked, sliding another finger in gently to join the first, and worked your clit between his lips. He incessantly stroked a spot inside that you'd never reach on your own, a firm, beckoning gesture as if he were willing your orgasm to come hither. 

It was working. Your insides tingle, a tightness pulling straight from your gut and shooting out to your fingers and toes. Beyond control by this point, your hand pulls his hair tightly. To your amazement, his other hand reaches out to you, seeking, and you lace your fingers in his own. 

As soon as your digits touched, you were gone. Your release plummets out of you, shaking through every bone you have, leaving you a twitching puddle of a woman. His fingers chase after it, dragging every inch of squelching pleasure out of your insides until you're tugging him away and begging for it to stop. 

As he moved back up your body, licking and sucking as he did so, you tried to think of an answer to the smug grin he was just about to flash at you. 

There was none. Brain unravelled, threads wound into your nerves instead of your thoughts, you laid there, ruminating on how he'd made you come faster than any other man.

Eddie hovered over you, nose nudging your own. He must have wiped his mouth at some point whilst you were in la la land. 

“Hey pretty girl.”

“Eddie, you're really fuckin’ good at that.”

“I know.”

You laugh, tapping his side.

“Cocky.”

“Confident.”

Before you can retort his mouth is back on you, peppering kisses to your jaw, as his solid member presses into your naked heat.

“Fuck Eddie, please, please please-”

“Please what baby girl?” He asks, then sucks a hickey on your neck. 

Pulling him towards you by his shirt collar, you bite down sharply on his earlobe, pulling a little groan from his chest.

“I want you to stuff me full Eddie. I'm- I'm on birth control. Fill me up.” 

You can practically feel Eddie's eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Fuck, you can't just say that, I nearly busted in my pants!” 

Pulling himself off you for the shortest time he could, he peels his t-shirt over his head and flops back on top of you. Desperate kisses and urgent gropes spill from you both; grinding, needy things that tore at clothes and grasped at flesh. 

After fiddling and failing with his belt, you huff and tug harshly at his waistband. He chuckles, biting at your bottom lip as he unlatches it with ease and then wriggles his pants and boxers down his legs with urgency. 

More desperate grasps, teeth and tongues clashing violently, your hand reaching down to clutch at his- 

“Holy hell!” 

His eyes widen, hands coming to a halt, waiting for the rest of your sentence. You're too busy trying to glance down his front as he hovers over you, your fist firmly stroking his hardened cock.

“You're huge Eddie!” 

He smirks and thrusts into your hand, the velvet smoothness of his dick massaged  by your palm. 

“Bet you say that to all the guys.”

“Er, no, Rick's made some truth serum or some shit because that's the biggest I've ever felt.” 

You guide him firmly towards your entrance, dragging the tip of his enlarged cock through your slickened folds. He quivers over you, arms thick with tension. 

“Baby girl just, just slip it inside, please-” 

“Now who's begging?” 

Grinning mischievously, you wait for him to start forming an answer with his mouth when you slip the head inside your sopping opening. His open mouth turns into a long drawn out moan. 

You would tease him if the feeling of him splitting you open wasn't all consuming. Which it fucking is. He just keeps pushing, and pushing, until his chest is flush with yours and he's mumbling platitudes in your ear. 

“Doing so good for me. Such a naughty, naughty girl. Getting filled up by her drug dealer? Baby girls a little dirty, isn't she?”

You're trying not to let him know how much his words affect you, but the fluttering of your satin like walls tells a different story. 

“You're not my dealer.” 

“Oh really? I'm not?” 

Pulling out nearly all the way and pushing back in, you bite your lip at the drag against your insides.

“Dealer implies I buy shit. You just give it to me, like a little simp.”

Eddie's mouth drops open in mock outrage.

“You want me to give it to you now? I'll fucking give it to you baby.” 

Hooking an arm under your thigh, Eddie thrusts into you hard and devastatingly deep. And again, and again, until you start moaning wantonly right in his face, all bravado forgotten.

“Yeah? Atta girl. That good baby? Wanna feel me right here?” 

His other hand pushes against your lower stomach, the pressure deepening the pleasure he's giving you tenfold. 

“Oh Eddie, oh fuckfuckfuck!!” 

Your release explodes out of your cunt with a gush, liquid spurting out of you so hard you nearly force his impressive length out. It waves drastically, like the sea against the shore, washing and washing over you until it's hard to breathe. 

“Baby, baby! Holy shit, I think you squirted.” 

“Ya think? My God, that was… mind blowing.” 

“Yeah?” 

Looking up at him, you expect that arrogant grin, but he just looks pleased and innocent. Like a kid at Christmas. 

“Yeah, fuck yeah.”

Rolling him over with all the power left in your thighs, you pin him down and move firmly into him, ferality taking over your actions. 

“Jesus Christ, you are a dirty girl, aren't you?” 

“Maybe just a little.” 

Smirking, you hump against him, your swollen clit bumping against his pubic bone on each delicious pass. 

“Holy shit, I'm not complaining- fuck, what the- what are you doing? Jesus Christ!” 

You bounce hard on him. Seeing him writhe under you is a special kind of power, one you aren't willing to let go of. Ever.

“Fuck, b-baby girl, you're gonna make me come!” 

His intense moans spur you on further. Unable to bounce so much on shaky knees you snuggle down close to him, arms clutching his shoulders, as you grind into him. It's massaging sensations into your clit, as well as teasing your g spot with his imposing length. 

“I can't, I’m-  baby girl-” 

“I'm gonna come, Eddie please, fill me up, I wanna feel it, I wanna feel your cum inside me, please, fuckin’ breed me Eddie. Oh fuck!” 

Quivering against him uncontrollably, your legs give out, collapsing on his body as he tenses and releases inside of you. It spurs your own orgasm, snaking up your spine and gripping on your system like a fly caught in honey. An open mouthed scream is all you give him, silent but chock full of feeling, as your back arches in its own tension. 

As it curls out of you, your back gives up, and you flop forward, bones turned to pudding. 

“Well.” is all that comes out, a puff of a word, just air escaping from a collapsing chest.

“Well.” Eddie responds, waiting for what you're about to say. 

You're sure he doesn't expect it. A laugh bubbles out; a weird, inside laugh, that you probably should never share with anyone. But it keeps coming. And coming. Laughing uncontrollably, you roll off of him and try to get your stomach muscles in check. 

You'd be worried about his reaction, if he wasn't laughing with you. It was this odd mixture of tension and relief that was bursting in the air, a barrier broken and left crumbling at your feet. 

“Eddie. Fuck, Eddie.” 

“Yeah?”

‘Yeah.”

His heated hand found yours, and squeezed your fingers hard. For some reason, it felt more intimate than all of this combined. 

Giggling again, you lean into his chest, fingers dipping up to weave into his hair. 

“Baby girl, you can't just-” 

“What? Pull your hair? Because you like it?” 

Tugging on his hair dramatically, Eddie tosses his head back and groans. 

“Knew it.”

“Yeah, yeah, certified genius. It's like you don't wanna be railed again.” 

Huffing, you pull yourself on top of him again, hardened nipples brushing softly against his flesh. 

“Oh, I think I'll be the one railing you. You wanna make a bet, for next time?” 

Smug grin forgotten, Eddie stares at you in disbelief.

“Next time?” 

“Well, I hope so. Got to be the best I've ever had.” 

Stupid Rick and his stupid strain. 

“Best you've ever had?” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Only if you wanna.” 

The teasing stopped. At least for now. It was pretty clear, your need for each other was outranking any goading you'd been sharing. 

At least for now… 

Taglist (Some permanents, some likely candidates, if you want to be added, jus say the word sweetheart)

@eddiesprincess86 @zestychili @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @roanniom @usedtobecooler @josephquinnsfreckles @mrsjellymunson

[furuu]

◝　‿ 　　　After an hour of playing with the King of Curses, you coaxed him sweetly, your voice soft and soothing. His lower set of eyes fluttered, heavy with exhaustion, as he struggled to stay awake, lulled by your gentle tone and tender words.

"Come now, my lord," you cooed, noticing his stubbornness manifesting in low, territorial growls. He didn’t want to stop playing, knowing it meant you would leave once you were done. "It's time to sleep now, I'm afraid. We shall continue tomorrow if you wish." As you stood, one of his large, tattooed hands stopped you, preventing you from rising from your seat on the floor beside him.

A possessive hold gripped your wrist, the pressure firm and unyielding, preventing you from standing. A deep, dissatisfied growl rumbled from Sukuna's lips, reverberating through the air with a primal intensity. "I don’t want to stop," he stubbornly declared, his tone laced with a hint of impatience. As if to emphasize his point, his additional set of arms swiftly encircled you, drawing you closer.

The heat of his body pressed against yours, the tattoos on his skin seeming to pulse with his frustration. His hold was firm, almost desperate, as if letting you go would mean losing something far more significant. His crimson gaze bore into yours, a mix of desire and possessiveness in his eyes, making it clear that he had no intention of letting you leave just yet.

You smile down at him, and his cold facade falters slightly as if he can sense the disappointment behind your warm gaze. "Oh? Are you not tired yet?" you ask softly, carefully sliding your wrist from his possessive grip and bringing it closer to his tattooed face. Your thumb gently brushes just under one of his lower set of eyes, coaxing it closed with the tender touch. His tough exterior momentarily softens under your gentle care. "It's quite late now, you know," you murmur, your voice soothing as you continue to caress him, trying to ease him into a state of restfulness.

A soft hum escaped his lips, a blend of relaxation and defiance. "Late or not, I want to keep playing," he grumbled, his lower arms still stubbornly holding onto you, reluctant to release their grip.

He let out a frustrated growl as his powerful body began to relax under your touch, his reactions betraying his words. "Shhh, I told you we can continue tomorrow as always," you murmured, your voice soothing and steady. Slowly, you pulled your hand away from his face, and the content expression that had briefly graced his features was replaced by a pout. "Are you ready now, my lord?" you asked gently, your words carrying a tender insistence as you waited for him to relent.

The pout on Sukuna's face deepened as you pulled away, a mix of annoyance and disappointment surfacing in his expression. His eyes remained fixed on you, filled with a blend of irritation and reluctance to give in.

"No, I'm not ready," he grumbled, his lower arms tightening their grip around you, pulling you back towards him in an attempt to hold you in place.

"Come now, you stubborn thing," you cooed, your tone teasing yet affectionate. If anyone else dared to speak to him like this, they would have been dead with a mere flick of his hand. But you were different, not like anyone else in his domain. Sukuna's resolve wavered ever so slightly, enough to let you slowly rise to your feet as he looked up at you from his place on the floor. "It's important for a king to get his rest."

A flash of irritation crossed Sukuna's eyes as you successfully stood, despite his efforts to cling to you. Yet, his usual fiery defiance softened, and a flicker of vulnerability showed through. His expression turned into a petulant pout as he gazed up at you, begrudgingly acknowledging the truth in your words.

"Fine," he grumbled, his voice still tinged with stubborn resistance. "But don’t leave."

Then, Sukuna settled into his king-sized bed with you sitting next to him, your gentle tone and soft words coaxing him toward sleep. He grumbled to himself, his voice a low, stubborn protest as if he were resisting even as sleep began to claim him.

Gradually, Sukuna's gruff grumbles started to subside, his resistance fading under the soothing cadence of your voice. The tension in his powerful body began to unravel, and his eyelids grew heavy with weariness. Despite his protests, the fatigue was too strong, and soon he fell asleep, his breathing steady as he finally drifted off.　　𓈒 ꒱ა

[acid-ixx]

I have this thought in my head of reader calling Connor "my heart" and Connor calling reader "lovely" and Jason calling Conner "bitch"

just a taste (again &. again drabble)

ft. yandere connor kent x reader w/ the batfamily.

masterlist ! reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

— tw suggestive, making out scene. i need someone to draw what i envisioned for this omg... pls let this blow up i love connor and u guys seem to love him too hehe. if u guys want to see me write more of these (w/ other characters) pls do comment below!

the 90's version of connor will have no filter in front of your ex-family and will literally appear right beside you moments before tim could drag your ass back to the manor, your already vulnerable state panicking at what seems to be a sleep inducing drug that he'll soon inject into your system.

but your boyfriend, kon, is one step ahead of your entire family, already having planned against them shall they ever abduct you.

he'll greet you with a flirtatious smile, even biting his lips as he checks you out, eyes flittering throughout your entire body like it was you were a glamorous display of meat for him, ignoring your brother's presence while at it.

"hello to my lovely darling!~" is what he tells you with a purr in his tone, kissing your cheeks for what seems longer than a second, hands immediately encasing your waist right before tim could make a show of grabbing your wrist. your boyfriend's grip is tight but comforting at the same time. you feel like you don't deserve it but if you voice out your insecurities now then you'll only find yourself smothered with kisses; him flirting with you in front of your supposed abductors would only worsen the situation. but you don't feel too anxious right now, because he's kneading the soft flesh of your waist, rubbing sensually in up and down strokes as if making a show in front of tim and the countless of cameras that litter the public space.

it's his way of telling you that you don't have to worry about anything but his affection, and his way of telling your family to 'fuck off, don't bother our moment together'.

you reciprocate with a hasty kiss to his lips, ignoring the side eye and the smug grin he gives to your brother after.

"hello to you too, my heart..." you fight back the urge to melt right into him, but it seems like he could easily read your mind, his hand settling itself into your head comfortably, scratching your scalp with well-timed precision whilst he leans your head right against his chest, right where you can hear the soft thumping of his heart.

what a flirt.

but you expect it. after all, he's the same guy who brags about your relationship to anyone and everyone he knows. it's no wonder tim easily tracked your location to the same place where connor lives, every puzzle seemingly being put into place.

when you had both caught bruce wayne tailing after you when you had gone on a date with him, it was connor who immediately devised a plan after he had to calm you down from panicking.

your lover is willing to sacrifice everything for you.

so it's not a surprise to you that his next course of action was to shamelessly take you flying away with him, off to somewhere desolate where he knows your family couldn't easily track you in, somewhere only you two kept a secret from everybody; a shared house, if you will.

nothing is shocking about what he had done...

... not until his grip on your body provides enough opportunities for him to just, make out with you then and there, tongue and all, without a care if your brother bears witness to his shameless display of lusting towards you.

what a prideful asshole he is, but he's your asshole now. and you can't bring it in yourself to reprimand him, enjoying the sweet sounds of your lips smacking in tandem and the taste of your favorite brand of coffee in his saliva as you two soar off into the air making out, exploring each other's body; your hand finding each other on his neck, another on his head, pushing him further near you, until your noses touched and until you struggle to breath, tongues lapping in tandem, refusing even a second of reprieve, even allowing him to bite your lips teasingly.

you love it when he uses his charms to take you away from the stress of your current life.

it was a distraction for both you and him, from the thought of your family turning kon into their new target as he defiles what little innocence they thought you had.

yet you enjoy this life, and you'd rather not come back to the stuffy manor, especially not right after kon offers you a taste of what you had never experienced; love.

and you embrace the giddy thumps of your heart for once with all the joy in the world, because you're not alone anymore in your own personal endeavors; you finally have someone. and that someone is your boyfriend who's always there for you, at the right time in all the wrong moments.

and kon? he especially enjoys using his superhearing just to eavesdrop on his ex-friend's seething because he was far too late, he loves hearing the growl on jason's voice over the comms as he calls connor a bitch, a seething pile of trash for taking away from them. he loves being an audience to their well deserved suffering. but...

but he can't focus solely on them, no, not when he's barely finished devouring every drop of saliva his eye candy offers him.

... ah, he loves it when you give yourself so willingly to him, when you let him wrap his arms around your body without fear he would hurt you, when you allow his hands to explore further below, fingers dangerously close to your thighs as it kneads the meat from your hips.

connor is never letting the world take you away from him.

it was you who parted first from the kiss, a string of liquid dispersing from both your swollen lips. if it wasn't for the fact you both are still high up in the air, you wouldn't doubt that your boyfriend wouldn't hesitate to undress you then and there.

but he could control himself for now, just for now.

'oh, babe... whatever you're doing to me is so irresistible.'

whatever happens after in your shared home is a different matter.

[andy-15-07]

hi! I love your feyd rautha fics 🥰 can you write one where the reader is pregnant with his child, a female, and he’s upset and cold with the reader because she’s not a male heir? but then, when she’s born, he’s so transfixed by her beauty and just the fact that she’s his, and that he just melts and swears to kill anyone for her?

My precious one

masterlist ! pairing: Feyd Rautha x reader

Dune Masterlist

The halls of the fortress echoed with an air of tension as Y/n, heavily pregnant with Feyd Rautha's child, moved cautiously through the dimly lit corridors. Feyd, the formidable heir to House Harkonnen, had been distant and cold ever since learning the gender of their unborn child. Tradition demanded a male heir, and Y/n's heart ached with the weight of disappointment as she faced the impending birth of a daughter.

"Y/n," Feyd's voice, usually smooth and commanding, was laced with discontent as he entered their chambers. "What use is a daughter to the House of Harkonnen? You were to bear me a son, a worthy successor."

Y/n's eyes welled with tears, but she fought to maintain her composure. "Feyd, she is still our child, a part of both of us. She will carry the blood of House Harkonnen."

He scowled, turning away. "A daughter will bring us nothing but weakness. I need an heir who can command respect, instill fear in our enemies. This changes everything."

As the days passed, Feyd distanced himself further, leaving Y/n feeling isolated and burdened. The weight of disappointment settled upon her like a heavy cloak, but she clung to the hope that when their daughter arrived, Feyd's heart would soften.

The day of reckoning came, the air thick with anticipation as Y/n went into labor. Feyd, though present, maintained a stoic silence, his eyes betraying the turmoil within. The labor was arduous, but when the cries of their newborn daughter filled the room, Y/n felt an overwhelming sense of joy and relief.

"She's here, Feyd," Y/n whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "Our daughter."

Feyd's eyes met the tiny, squirming bundle in Y/n's arms, and for a moment, the hardness in his gaze softened. The baby girl had a delicate beauty that seemed to captivate him, a sight that defied his earlier expectations.

"What shall we name her?" Y/n asked, her heart swelling with love for their precious child.

"Feydra," he said, the name rolling off his tongue with a tenderness that surprised them both.

Feydra's arrival sparked a transformation in Feyd. The once cold and distant heir was now consumed by an overwhelming protectiveness and love for his daughter. As he held her for the first time, his fingers traced the contours of her tiny face, and he couldn't help but marvel at her innocence.

"She's ours, Y/n," he whispered, his voice filled with awe. "I will do anything to protect her. No harm shall come to our Feydra."

From that moment on, Feyd became an attentive and devoted father. He would spend hours cradling Feydra in his arms, his stern countenance replaced by a softness that only she could evoke. The fortress, once a place of cold authority, became a haven for the blossoming love between father and daughter.

As Feydra grew, Feyd's determination to shield her from the harsh realities of their world intensified. He vowed to eliminate any threat that dared to cast a shadow over her, swearing to protect her with a fierceness that only a father's love could inspire.

One day, as father and daughter strolled through the fortress gardens, Feyd's eyes gleamed with an unspoken promise. "Feydra, my precious one, you are the future of House Harkonnen. No harm will befall you as long as I draw breath. I would destroy worlds to keep you safe."

Feydra, oblivious to the dangers that lurked beyond the fortress walls, gazed up at her father with adoration. In those moments, Feyd's heart swelled with a love that transcended bloodlines and tradition. The bond between father and daughter had forged a legacy that defied the expectations of House Harkonnen, proving that love could be a force more powerful than any political alliance or familial obligation.

[celestialowlbear]

✨♡ Gale NSFW Drabble ♡✨

Pairing: Gale x Fem!Reader (Tav)

Summary: Gale indulges in you. Hehe.

WC: 1200

Warnings: 18+, NSFW. No plot. Just smut. Face riding. Female receiving oral. Mention of PiV sex. Established relationship. Reader/Tav not described. Bulleted list.

A/N: Now it’s Gale’s turn for thots I just needed to get on a page. It became longer than I expected, haha. He’s an oral king. I don’t make the rules. Enjoy!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚

You lifted your gaze from your book, sneaking a glance at Gale who sat on a comfortable loveseat across from you.

You weren’t surprised to catch Gale staring right back at you with a peculiar twinkle in his eye.

You knew the look, his brown eyes drinking in your form from where he sat.

He quietly shut his book, placing it to the side.

Gale stood up and settled by you on the plush couch you were lounging on.

He kissed your shoulder as you tried to pay attention to your literature.

You already knew what he wanted, but you loved making him work for it.

“Don’t mind me, my love,” Gale whispered, his voice already husky with desire. “You know I can’t stay away from you for long.”

Gale’s skilled hands wandered as his lips did the same, kissing up your neck and letting his fingers dance under the hem of your top

You smirk, no longer paying attention to the words on the page, your body immediately pliant under his touch.

“We’ve been in the tower all day…you haven’t been far from me at all.” You teased quietly, tilting your head to give him better access.

Gale hummed against your skin. “Still not close enough, I’m afraid.”

One of Gale’s hands was fully under your top now, caressing and teasing your breast.

“I want to taste you if you’ll allow me the privilege.”

You let out a soft sigh, Gale’s beard tickling you as he kissed your neck, nipping at the points he knew made you melt.

“How can I deny such a request?”

Gale lifted his head from your neck, pressing his lips to yours in a deep kiss, his hand cupping your cheek.

“Let’s get comfortable then, shall we?” Gale pressed his forehead to yours, muttering something under his breath.

In an instant, you were lying on your shared bed with Gale next to you, both of your clothing gone.

The perks of being in a relationship with a wizard.

“Come here, my love. Take a seat on your throne.” Gale smirked as he gestured at his face, lying on his back.

You settle on top of him, your thighs surrounding his head.

Gale squeezes the fat off your thighs, looking up at you with a wild hunger in his eyes.

“You are stunning like this.”

Gale brought his lips to your folds, not giving you a chance to respond.

You gasped his name instead as he slowly kissed your thoroughly wet cunt, probing his tongue at your entrance.

You gripped the bed’s headboard, your thighs already trembling around his head.

You could feel his beard wonderfully scratch against your inner legs, adding more pleasurable sensations to what he was already doing.

Gale was taking his time, still lazily kissing at your folds as he would your mouth.

You wanted to rock down onto him desperately, your clit beginning to throb with need.

Gale was purposefully avoiding that part of you, drawing out your pleasure.

Gale also didn’t want this to end too quickly, thoroughly enjoying servicing you just like this.

“Gale…” you ground out. “More…please…”

Gale hummed in response, tightening his grip on your thighs.

“Patience, my love.” He murmured, grazing his nose against your clit. “Like a good wine, you must be savored. You deserve such treatment.”

You let out an airy laugh at his comparison, feeling him smile against your swollen folds as he picked up the pace, swirling around your clit.

You whined, his tongue providing the relief you were so desperate for.

Gale gently probed at your clit, alternating between your entrance and swollen bud.

“Ah…Gale…!” You cried out as he began massaging your clit with his tongue, his composure quickly crumbling at the sounds leaving your throat.

Your trembling body, his name leaving your lips in broken moans, feeling your clit swell with each pass of his tongue, it was all absolute perfection.

No magic could ever compare to having you like this.

Gale released one of your thighs to cup your ass, giving it a hearty squeeze as he continued his meal, obscene sounds filling the room as you rocked your hips on his face.

Gale was completely lost in you, your scent filling his nostrils, your arousal coating his beard, your soft skin now damp with sweat under his fingertips.

The molten pleasure was building in your spine, Gale finding a rhythm he knew would have you shattering above him before long.

Your fingernails were digging into the fabric of the headboard, bucking your hips against his lips in time with his tongue, which was now fully focusing on your clit.

“Gale…don’t stop…please…I’m…” You were breathless, opening your eyes that had been squeezed shut, looking down between your legs.

Gale was once again already staring at you, his eyes dark and blown with lust. Strands of his hair were stuck to his forehead, looking disheveled.

His eyes weren’t just filled with lust, but pure passion. Love. Unwavering commitment.

You crashed over the edge, locking your eyes with his as your orgasm rocked your body.

Ecstasy blossomed from your core to every nerve, intense and mind-numbing.

You chanted Gale’s name like an incantation, your entire body convulsing and shuddering above him.

Gale moaned loudly into your pussy, keeping up his pace, wanting to taste and feel every bit of your pleasure.

Gale lapped up the gush of your release, your cunt pulsing with your orgasm against his mouth.

Gale could feel his cock aching between his legs, his body ignited with desire, knowing he could make you feel this way with just his mouth. He couldn’t help the bit of pride that swelled in his chest.

You came down from your high, ragged breath and limp body, sliding off his face to lay next to him.

Gale was breathing heavily too, his beard dripping with your release.

He turned on his side to face you, a smile gracing his features.

“Thank you for letting a wizard indulge himself.” He traced his hand over your flushed cheek.

You chuckled, bringing a hand down to his rigid length, caressing it ever so gently.

“I should be the one thanking you, love.”

Gale’s eyes closed as he let out a low moan.

You captured his lips with yours in a fiery kiss.

You could taste your tangy release on your lips, his beard soaking with it. Your tongues danced momentarily, desire burning between your legs once again.

“I don’t think we are done indulging in one another, my dear.” You purred, gently pushing Gale over to be on his back once again.

You climbed on top of him, positioning yourself over his cock.

Fire danced in his eyes as he gripped your hips, lifting his own hips ever so slightly to push his leaking tip into your tight entrance.

Gale entered you with no resistance, both of you groaning in bliss as you took him to the hilt.

You both sat there momentarily, taking one another in. You leaned forward, entwining your fingers with his above his head for leverage.

Gale let out a deep rumble, something between a chuckle and a growl as he felt you clench around him.

“Oh no, my love. We are far from being finished. I’d say we are just getting started.”

-ˏˋ⋆ Thanks for reading, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! ⋆ˊˎ-

Tagging @ladyzirkonia as requested 😘

[arc-misadventures]

I don't know why, but I'm enjoying the thought of Coco and Jaune being bros.

99% Lesbian

Blake: Coco!

Yang: Hey, Coco!

Coco: Yes?

Blake: We need your help

Coco: My help? Well, first off: Stop wearing all black. Add more colour to you apparel; I recommend purples, golds, and perhaps some deep blues. I think those colours would really make you 'pop!' Otherwise you look like a poorly dressed goth girl hipster. And no, you do not look like a goth girl the way you are dressed, and most certainly a sexy goth girl.

Blake: That's not 1hat...

Yang: No. No, take notes you could use a make over.

Blake: Hey!

Yang: But, no this isn't fashion related!

Coco: It isn't? Then what the hell do you two want help with me, you utter fashion slobs!

Blake: Hey!

Yang: I know it's true that, Blake dresses like a slob!

Blake: Hey?!

Yang: But, does that include me too?

Coco: Only two people in this entire school have any sense of woman's fashion, and neither of them are you.

Yang: Who?!

Blake: Yeah, who?!

Coco: Jaune Arc.

Blake: Jaune?

Yang: Him, really?

Coco: He has seven sisters, he knows plenty about woman's fashion.

Blake: So you say...

Yang: Who's the other person?

Coco: Glynda Goodwitch.

BY: ...

Blake: I'm not going to argue against that.

Yang: She's drop dead gorgeous, what else do we need to say?

Coco: So, what do you need help with?

Yang: We need to help settle a bet.

Coco: A bet?

Yang: Yeah, Ruby said you weren't gay, and that you were in fact, bisexual. We called bullshit, she said it was true, so we made a bet on whether or, not you are actually gay.

Blake: So, are you bisexual?

Coco: No I'm not bisexual.

Blake: Ha!

Yang: I knew it!

Coco: But, I'm not... 100% a lesbian.

Blake: Eh?

Yang: Beg pardon?

Coco: I'm 99% lesbian, but I am 1%... straight...

Blake: You're 1% straight...?

Yang: So... you are bisexual?

Coco: No... I love woman 99% of the time. But, 1% of the time... I'm straight... exclusively for, Jaune...

BY: For, Jaune?!

Coco: For, Jaune.

Yang: How are you attracted to, Jaune? He's... he's...

Blake: He's, Jaune!

Yang: I was going to say a guy, but that's true.

Coco: Gods, does everyone have to pick on my, 'If I had to pick a dude?' He's a great guy, a bit of a goofball sure, and a dunce. But, he is a really nice guy once you get to know him.

Blake: And, because you know, Jaune so well he becomes the 1%?

Coco: Well, there's also the fact that he is the only person I can discuss fashion with; he has great taste, and has even convinced me to wear a helmet as part of my fashion assemble. I just started to enjoy being around with him. So the intrusive thought of us... 'mingling' just popped up. So, I'm 99% a lesbian, and 1% straight for, Jaune.

Blake: Oh, that makes sense. Somehow...?

Yang: So... did we win the bet?

Blake: We didn't bet anything, so we could call it a draw if we wanted to. Right?

Coco: I'd call it a dra...

Jaune: Coco!

Coco: Hey, Bunny Boy, what's up?

Blake: Bunny boy?

Jaune: I found another helmet you could wear! Only this time if completely covers your head, which of course would make it that it doesn't go with your current outfits design. But, that does mean you have to choreograph an entire wardrobe to fit the helmet. Of which, honestly sounds fun to do on it's on.

Coco: Oh-ho-ho~! Really now? Okay, show me this helmet you're so confident about?

Jaune: Tada~!

Coco: ...

Coco: Holy shit...

Jaune: You like it?

Coco: This is a old helmet, so I would have a more detailed lion head, and mane. The colours would definitely involve more gold, maroon, and crimsons.

Jaune: Red, and caramel browns, with complementary cream whites?

Coco: Oh that sounds perfect! Colours aside, what would this outfit entail?

Jaune: Boot's that are at least knee height...

Coco: High heels?

Jaune: Oh, but of course. Next should... Hmmm... Oh no...

Coco: What is it?

Jaune: Nora pulled a, Nora again. I'm sorry I gotta go. Shall we continued this discussion later?

Coco: No problem, Love. Have fun~!

Jaune: See you later, Mocha!

Coco: Hmmm... Should the face mask be a copy of my face, or should it be a generic face?

BY: ...

Coco: ...

Coco: What?

Yang: 'No problem, Love?'

Blake: You sure it's just 1%?

Coco: ...

Coco: Maybe... 10%...?

Yang: Coco's bisexual, but only for, Jaune.

Blake: Agreed.

Coco: ...

Coco: That's fair...

[aviiarie]

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ LOST & FOUND platonic arlecchino & reader !

synopsis. hell hath no fury like a parent whose child has been taken from them. contents. PLATONIC. description of blood and injury (mildly graphic but not gory), violence, mentions of kidnapping, swearing (like once), implied murder. house of the hearth!reader. angst & slight hurt/comfort. 2.5k words. notes. LAST REPOST!! my house of the hearth series is all moved here now :'D

It had been fifty-eight hours, and twenty-seven minutes since [Name] had vanished.

Freminet sat curled up in a velvet armchair that dwarfed his small frame, with Pers on his lap and his brother and sister flanking each side. They had both refused Father’s offer of a seat, which showed the severity of the situation more than words ever could.

No one ever refused Father. Even she had raised an eyebrow at their sudden rebellion.

“Lyney, Lynette. Defiance will not make [Name] come home faster. Take a seat.” Father sipped her tea, poised as ever. Even with that impassive mask, Freminet still noticed the tension in her shoulders.

He always noticed.

“There’s no need,” Lyney said shortly, adding on a respectful “Father.” as an afterthought.

“What my brother means—” Lynette cut in smoothly. “—Is that we do not want to draw this conversation out any longer than necessary. We only came to get permission to postpone our current assignment and search for [Name]. I’m sure you can see the circumstances are dire enough to warrant such action.”

“I’m afraid I do not, Lynette.” Father placed her cup down and folded her hands over her lap. “They are a very skilled agent, and this mission was hardly out of their ability. No need to compromise your current—and very important, I might add—mission, for trivial matters.”

“It isn’t trivial, it’s our sibling!” Lyney burst out, causing Freminet to flinch. He reached out a hand blindly to settle on Freminet’s shoulder, squeezing it quickly in both a comfort and apology for startling him.

“I would be mindful of your place within this household, Lyney.” Father said mildly, the warning clear. “I have given you a direct order, and you will follow it. Do not stray from your assigned mission. [Name] will be fine.” She paused for a beat. “You are dismissed.”

“That’s it?” Lyney hissed. “So, you’re going to just leave them to die?”

It sounded like less of a question and more of an accusation. Freminet winced, feeling Lynette stiffen beside him as well as they waited for the consequences of Lyney’s bluntness.

Arlecchino rose from her seat, the tension in the air thick enough to choke all three of the siblings.

“I never said that. [Name] will be home in due time.” Her gaze shifted from the left to the right side of the armchair. “Lynette, you will have tea with me later, won’t you?” Father asked, causing the girl to freeze.

She bit her lip, answering carefully. “I may. Maybe if [Name] returns, we can all have tea together.”

“A good plan,” Father agreed, ignoring the quiet angry undertone of her words. “When I see them, I shall invite them.”

“It had better be soon; it’s getting late.” Lynette countered. Freminet’s eyes darted back and forth between the two of them. Lynette was always better at matching Father’s games. Freminet crumbled under the weight of her gaze, and Lyney wasn’t any better at handling the pressure without his emotions causing him to crack and splinter.

“Lynette, Freminet. Let’s go.” Lyney said sharply.

Throughout the entire exchange, Lyney’s hand had not moved from where it was planted firmly on Freminet’s shoulder, as if he was refusing to let another of his siblings out of his grasp. Freminet might have remarked that Lynette was handling her worry better, but he noticed how her tail kept curling around his leg when they walked into Father’s office. Neither of the three was willing to part with the others for even a second; not when one of their own had gone missing by doing just that.

As he drew back his hand and moved away, Freminet caught his arm.  

“Just… a moment, please. Wait outside, I’ll join you soon.” Freminet murmured, letting go. Lyney pursed his lips.

“Be quick.”

The twins vanished through the doorway, leaving Freminet alone with his Father.

“Freminet dear. You’re hesitating.” Father raised an eyebrow. “Are you waiting for something? Do you want me to give Pers a kiss on the head before I leave?”

Freminet flushed at the memories of holding the toy up to Father when he was young, insisting the penguin deserved a proper goodbye too. “Ahem. I’m not a child anymore… Father.”

“No? Then why are you still here?”

He swallowed awkwardly, forcing himself to look her in the eyes. He met her stare

“I know you’re just as worried as I am.” He said bluntly.

Father’s expression was almost impossible to read, but Freminet managed to catch a hint of surprise at his words. “I see. How did you come to that conclusion?”

It wasn’t denial, nor was it defensiveness. That was a good sign. Freminet continued, “There is a pinch between your eyebrows that you keep trying to smooth over. You’re gripping your teacup much tighter than usual. Your shoulders are tense. And you were far too quick to dismiss the twins’ concerns. You of all people would know that the situation is severe enough to allow a brief pause to their investigation, but you were swift in making sure they were kept as far away from the situation as possible.”

Arlecchino stared back at Freminet silently. She always had that unsettling way of watching him, as if she was picking apart the cogs and wheels spinning in his mind to know exactly what he was thinking.

“Observant as always, Freminet.” Freminet stood up straighter, pink touching his cheeks. “So, tell me this: what am I to do next?”

“You’re… going to find them yourself?” He asked slowly.

“That is correct. I will be.” Father agreed, and something inside him swelled. If only Lyney was still in the room, he would have collapsed with relief. “And what will you be doing?”

“Helping.” Freminet said without a thought.

“Incorrect. You are going to return to your room, go to sleep, and not say a word to your siblings.”

“But—”

“No. You are not involved here.” Arlecchino turned her back on him, looking out the window with her arms folded behind her.

“Father—”

“Do not forget that if you or your sibling’s interference costs me my mission, [Name]’s blood will be on your hands.”

Freminet recoiled sharply, as if she had struck him across the face. Arlecchino refused to lay a hand on any of them, but her words were more than enough to wound them.

“I—”

“I’m not looking for an argument, Freminet.”

Freminet shut his mouth with a click, lowering his head. He forced back the wave of emotions sweeping across him, sinking them so far into the depths of his mind that not even a champion diver like himself would be able to reach them.

“I am looking for an answer.” Father raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, Father.” He said quietly.

“Good child,” She murmured, laying a gentle hand on the top of his head. “You are dismissed.”

-----

Arlecchino made her move at the stroke of sundown.

It was disgustingly easy to track them down, and the sheer incompetence only fuelled her rage until it burned brighter than the flames that curled beneath her skin. The assailants were sloppy, leaving plenty of traces for her to find, as if they were waiting for her to find them.

One of her agents had returned with a slip of paper that evening���a ransom note, crudely explaining that they had captured a House of the Hearth agent, and demanding a hefty sum in exchange for their safe return. She had chuckled at that last part. They would be lucky for her to leave them with their lives after what they have done, let alone a reward.

Their hideout was located in a quiet cave near the ocean, with an entrance half-hidden behind a curtain of vines. It was a quaint spot, a cosy place to sit back and watch the sun set over the water. She was sure the view behind her was breathtaking, but she made no move to take a glance for herself.

The vines made way for a long, narrow tunnel, ending with a wooden door. Arlecchino quietly turned the handle, scoffing under her breath when it turned without a key being inserted, and slipped through without making a single sound.

Six were scattered around the dingy room; one woman, five men. Seeming to be aged between their mid-twenties at the youngest, and early-forties at the oldest.

“Have we got a response yet?” The woman muttered impatiently, tapping her foot against the floor.

“How should I know?” One of the men grunted. “We left the note. Eventually it’s gotta make it’s way to the boss herself, and we’ll get the reward.”

“Just gotta be patient,” Another murmured. “Gotta be patient.”

Slightly past them was a wooden cage, secured with a metal lock.

They were in a heap on the floor of the cage, breathing weakly—Arlecchino quietly thanked the Tsaritsa that they were breathing at all—and looked to be passed out.

The fire inside her sang, and she could hardly breathe under the heat of it all.

“How long is this woman gonna take?” The woman rolled her eyes. “I’m tired of waiting.”

Arlecchino chuckled, causing all of the six to jump. “Oh, then allow me to assure you that you won’t have to wait much longer at all.”

Instantly they were on their feet, grabbing whatever weapon was closest. Their expressions ranged from outright fear, to an egregious amount of confidence for how weak they were in comparison to her.

“Knave,” the closest man grinned crookedly. “How kind of you to join us. I’m assuming you’re here for—” he jerked his head towards the figure still unmoving. “—that one?”

“‘That one’?” Arlecchino repeated slowly, drawing her scythe to her side. “I am here for my child.”

Two of the men—the ones closest to the cage—looked at each other nervously. Arlecchino smiled. It was a pity the rest of the group didn’t share the sense to fear her, but they would learn soon enough.

“Well you see, we’ll be happy to hand them over—” the man’s grin widened. “For a price, of course.”

“A price, you say?” She mused. “How about this. You step aside, I retrieve my child, and offer you a quick death. I would say that is more than fair, considering what you have cost me.”

The smile dropped off the man’s face. “That ain’t an option, lady.”

“Then I think you misunderstand.” She took a step towards him, then another, eyes glinting dangerously in the low light. “I wasn’t asking.”

“Boss—” one of the men tried to say.

“Shut it.” the first man hissed, bringing his shovel up in a defensive position. It was almost laughable, how he thought that would protect him.

“You made four mistakes tonight,” Arlecchino said smoothly. The tip of her scythe brushed the floor, sending a loud scraping sound across the walls. All of the people inside the room winced at the sound, but Arlecchino was unfazed as she continued prowling towards them.

“One… you failed to cover your tracks, making it remarkably easy to track you down.” In one swift motion, she lunged. The group barely had time to blink, before her scythe sliced across the chest of the closest one.

There was silence, before the man made a low gasp, bright crimson blood spilling down his shirt. He collapsed forward onto the ground with a thud, and the room erupted into chaos. A scream tore from the throat of the woman, and she dropped to her knees at his side, desperately clutching his shoulders. Arlecchino aimed a quick strike at her back, and she fell against the man heavily.

“Two, you left the door unlocked.” A pair charged towards her, hammers and shovels swinging. She knocked the weapons from their hands with one hit, and knocked them down with a second.

“Three—” One snuck up from behind, quickly tossing a string of rope over her head and around her neck, pulling harshly to cut off her breathing. An elbow in his ribs winded him enough to loosen his grip, and a knock to the head with the hilt of her scythe sent him to the floor. “You brought far too few people to last in a fight against me.”

The final man stumbled backwards until he hit the wall, shrinking against the bricks. Arlecchino walked with slow steps, stalking towards him like an animal cornering their pray. He shielded his face with his hands, in a desperate attempt to protect himself. Once she was about a foot away, she stopped, leaning in close.

“And four.” Arlecchino grasped the man by the throat, digging her nails into his skin hard enough to draw blood. “You hurt my fucking child.”

She tossed his body to the side, watching him hit the wall with a thud and collapse to the ground like a ragdoll.

“Pathetic.” She scoffed under her breath, stepping over his limp body. Her anger wasn’t nearly quelled—an inferno is not easily cooled, after all—but seeing them all lying lifelessly across the floor of their own base at least brought some vindication. She turned her back to the man, looking over at her child.

They were curled up in the cage like a trapped animal, rattling breaths ringing through the bars. Arlecchino gritted her teeth at the sight, making sure to step on the nearest captor’s fingers as she walked over. She swung her scythe against the lock, shattering it into bits of metal.

Her hands were gentle in reaching into the cage, hooking a hand under their knees and cradling their back with the other. They made a pained cry, and Arlecchino hurried to pull them out. She held them close to her chest, letting their cheek rest where her heartbeat pounded against her chest. Her face didn’t falter from that stony expression, but inside she was burning with fury.

“My child,” She murmured, more to herself than the shivering form in her arms. There was something dangerous in her tone, a note of warning to the assailants still conscious enough to hear her voice. She kissed their forehead, a tender gesture out of place among the bloodshed. “Didn’t I promise you that while you’re with me, no one can hurt you?”

“F-Father…?” A broken whisper slipped through their lips, followed by a sob, first sinking Arlecchino’s heart then shattering it into two.

“Shh… it’s okay. It’s okay, darling, I’m here.” She crooned, carrying them out of the room and through the tunnel. All throughout the journey through the tunnel and back onto the beach, she didn’t stop murmuring comforts and pressing kisses to their head in the most maternal way she’d ever remembered acting.

“I’m sorry, Father…” they mumbled, cheek pressed against her chest.

“Darling…” Arlecchino hummed, even as the smouldering ashes in her chest began to spark and flicker. “You have nothing to apologise for.”

The night was cold, but her child was a warm weight in her arms. She revelled in the warmth, a gentle reminder that they were still alive.

“We’ll be home soon,” Arlecchino promised, even though they were barely conscious enough to hear her. “Soon.”

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai.

[ravenswritings]

── pretend

> love & deepspace; rafayel x fem reader > smut (explicit sexual content - nsfw) > 5.2k > a slight re-envisioning and expansion of the kindled scene from the gem affection card > content: 2nd person pov, petnames (your highness, princess, good girl), mostly pwp, switch rafayel and switch reader, cowgirl, missionary, creampie > [ ao3 ]

The best way to convince the palace maids to leave you two be is to act like you are lovingly wrapped up in each other. But where’s the fun in just pretending?

“Then I shall wait by the door. I’ll always be ready to tend to you, Your Highness.”

What had initially begun as a way to hide the marked-up map and mask your discussions of escape was gradually devolving into pure indulgence. Words of let’s make it convincing turned into what’s the harm if we continue? Rafayel sits atop the soft velvet covers of the bed - map long forgotten even though it was only moments ago that he threw himself on the bed to hide it - with you perched on his lap and your own self-control quickly waning. You hold a grape between your fingers, the fruit coated in a light, watery syrup, pressing it lightly against your lover’s lips.

It’s not as if you two could continue discussing your potential escape with the head maid just outside the door. It was too risky, all too likely that she would overhear something that would compromise your chances of getting back home. In the short time that you’ve been stuck in this world, you’ve deduced that the staff here would much prefer to have you stay, to fill the place of the missing princess and act like nothing is amiss.

You refuse to remain here forever, though.

Still… You two are so very close to settling on a concrete plan. It wouldn’t take much more time or effort to decide on your next steps, make the necessary preparations, and set out into the desert to search for the cave that should hopefully allow the two of you to return home. The temptation of indulging in Rafayel’s affections in this moment is simply too good to pass up. There’d be plenty of time later to finish your discussion.

In the meantime, you’ll continue to play the roles of the salacious princess and her favorite haughty beauty, basking in each other's company, plying each other in soft touches and teasing kisses, until the maid standing just outside the door leaves. It seems like a perfectly fine way to spend the time.

“Since Your Highness wants to spice things up, I’ll do my best to satisfy your every need.”

Of course, Rafayel just has to draw things out; he didn’t immediately part his lips and accept the grape that you had tried feeding to him, and now he’s teasing you back, playing. He grasps your wrist, long fingers curled firmly against your skin. Bringing it to his mouth, his warm tongue swipes up towards your palm as he tastes the syrup that had begun dripping down your inner wrist. Your fingers twitch at the jolt of anticipation that runs through your body, suddenly losing their grip on the slick fruit.

Your eyes immediately lock onto the grape as it bounces down Rafayel’s jewelry-adorned chest, leaving a shining, reddish trail as it soon rolls to a stop right at the edge of his waistband.

“Can’t take it anymore?” Rafayel teases, taunting you for your slip up, lifting his gaze to your face before his eyes flick down to where the grape had settled. There’s a ghost of a devious smirk on his lips, so subtle as he feigns innocence, eyebrows lifting to sell the sweet puppy-dog look while he tilts his head. “It’s so far away. I can’t get it. Your Highness, could you…”

You laugh quietly at Rafayel's apparent helplessness, rather enjoying the situation the two of you have found yourselves in and his insistence on playing coy. “I suppose I can get it for you…” you murmur, unable to help the smirk that twitches at the corner of your own lips. He wasn’t the only one who could draw things out, tease, drive the other wild.

You lean forward, pressing into Rafayel’s space, grasping his chin firmly as you tilt his face to the side to allow for easier access to his neck. Your hand cups his jaw briefly before trailing lower leisurely, the pads of your fingers brushing against his throat. If you pressed harder, you knew you’d be able to feel his pulse - but your touch was agonizingly soft and sweet against his skin. He swallows; breathing shallow.

“Did it fall over here?”

The words lilt in the same feigned innocence Rafayel used earlier. Pretending to be oh so clueless about where the grape had gone and thoroughly investigating its potential whereabouts, you allow your nails to graze his collarbone, brushing lightly against the gold adornments he wore.

“I think you need to go… a little lower,” he rasps, clearly trying to appear more unaffected than he truly is at this moment. A soft huff of laughter leaves your lips, but you happily play along with his false ignorance. Your hand runs down his chest almost lazily, the metal and gems of his body jewelry softly clinking as your fingers brush across them, the muscles of his abdomen jumping at the feather-light touch as your search continues lower and lower. Soon enough, your touches halt once they make contact with the fabric of his pants.

“Here?” you ask, head tilted and eyebrows raised, fingers hovering just over the runaway fruit. When you glance back up to your lover’s face, you see that a red flush had already settled across his cheekbones. His smoldering gaze is heavy on you, the gradient of red of his eyes prominent and rich in the subdued, warm candlelight of your bedchambers. You can’t help but notice how well his eyes and blush compliment each other.

Before he can say anything else, you pluck the grape up between your fingers, then pop it into your own mouth. If he wouldn’t eat it, fine; it’s yours, then. Swiping your tongue across your digits to clean the residue off, you make eye contact with him. The mild surprise in his eyes makes you feel giddy, and you want to keep pushing your luck.

So - given he had propped himself up on his elbows to play around and tease you - you firmly press him back down against the bed, in a rather similar manner that echoes the beginning of this little session between you two. But this time your push is much more slow, deliberate. His hands instinctively move to your hips, holding you steady as your positions shift against each other. You can’t help but smile at the way his eyes narrow; he’s trying to figure out your intentions, your next move. With him splayed out beneath you, that dark trail the syrup-coated grape left behind practically begs for your attention. You know what you’ll do.

Despite the intensity in your eager gaze, Rafayel is quick to regain his composure. “You're quite the tease, aren’t you?” His voice is husky, barely above a whisper. He looks amused as he watches you, sitting so pretty and coy on his lap. “I think you enjoyed that more than you let on.”

“Maybe,” you respond vaguely with a cheeky smile. And then you’re scooting back slightly, putting a necessary distance between you two so you can enact your next course of action. Leaning down, your lips press against the bare skin of his collarbone, right at the very beginning of the sticky, sweet line of syrup. You hear his breath hitch in anticipation, his chest stilling beneath your lips.

With your hands placed on his biceps as you brace your body against his, you move your face a bit lower, flatten your tongue against his pec, and drag it upwards towards his shoulder, licking the skin clean. Rafayel’s digits noticeably twitch against your hips and you hear him exhale a long, shaky breath just above your head. Pulling your mouth away from his skin, the tip of your tongue swipes across your bottom lip, and you glance up at him briefly while you shift further down his body. But before you can get too far ahead of yourself, one of his hands moves to grasp your chin firmly, stopping you from reaching your next destination.

A swift tug pulls you up, and a moment later your lips lock with Rafayel’s in a firm kiss. Despite the initial surprise you felt, only a heartbeat passes before you’re melting against him, a little sigh leaving your nose as your arms loosely loop around his shoulders. You break the kiss to breathe, to press yourself ever closer to your lover. Rafayel's eyes, hooded as he gazes up at you, flutter shut as you lean in once more, meeting in another searing kiss. His hands depart from your hips and slide upwards to cup your face, leaving tingling trails that cause you to shudder. He lets out a soft moan against your mouth as your own hands roam down his chest in return, fingers tugging at the gold jewelry adorning his torso.

“Mmm, I love it when you take charge,” Rafayel purrs, words mixed into a sigh as he breaks the kiss. His fingers tangle in your hair and tug you back gently, preventing you from pitching forward and stealing another kiss. Who’s really in charge here? Regardless, arousal washes down your spine at his easy confession, at the light but persistent grip he has on your hair. Your eyes are half-lidded as you stare down at him, head tilted back just slightly due to Rafayel’s hold.

His eyes flick to the closed door of your bedchambers at that moment, and your gaze follows his. That’s right, you think to yourself, pulled slightly from the fog of your arousal as if just remembering where you two are and what transpired before you two started getting lost in each other. Is the maid still out there?

Well, it didn’t matter either way, in the end.

A charmingly wicked grin spreads across Rafayel’s face as your eyes meet his again. “Someone might still be out there. But don't hold back, my love. Let them hear every moan, every gasp,” he whispers, his warm breath fanning against your skin. His hands move to your hips again, gripping the flesh tightly as he ruts his hips up against yours, the friction causing your breath to hitch in your throat. His thumbs massage little circles into your hip bones and you squirm at the slightly ticklish sensation. “I want you to ride me, Your Highness. Show me how much you enjoy your favorite concubine.”

His pupils are blown wide with adoration and desire, red flush still so pretty across the apples of his cheeks. The dim candle light casts shadows across his features, but you swear it only accents his already devastating beauty. A smitten sigh escapes your lips. “Well, I can’t say no when you look at me like that,” you coo, lifting a hand to trail your fingertips across his face, brushing strands of his dusky purple waves away from his eyes and lingering along his jaw. You certainly couldn’t deny his demands when they sounded so sweet coming from him, no matter how haughty they come across. And why would the princess deny her favorite’s wishes, anyway, when they are so easy to grant?

“Besides…” you add, voice coming out in a whisper while you tilt his chin up with a single finger, your eyes locked on his. The heady emotion in your eyes reflects your next words: “I want it just as much as you.”

Lifting your hips slightly, you begin to untie the navy blue sash around your waist. A more desperate part of you wants to just bunch your skirt up to your thighs and get on with it to save time, but you know it’s just going to interfere, getting in the way of you enjoying your dear, sweet, beloved Rafayel. While you love to tease him and draw things out, this side of you is warring with the one that wants to dive in and lose yourself in him. His hands grasp and lightly tug at your skirt, pulling the now-loose fabric a few inches down the flare of your hips.

As much as you loathe to separate from him, you shift off his lap, moving to the side and stepping off the bed. Working the skirt the rest of the way off your hips, you let the light, flowing layers drop to the floor along with your panties. After stepping out of the little pile around your ankles, you settle back down on the bed beside him, drawing your legs loosely up beneath you. Your palm brushes across his waistband, a short distance above the tent that had been steadily growing between his legs, your nails lightly teasing the skin right along the edge of his pants. Rafayel’s eyes flutter closed as he exhales shakily.

“You’re pretty like this,” you hum, allowing your eyes to roam his figure from head to toe before returning to his face. He opens his eyes with a soft chuckle and the heat in his gaze sends a buzzing anticipation across your nerves.

“Pretty, huh?” The words are smug, as if he already knows just what you thought of him. He knows he’s pretty, of course. But you nod, readily feeding his ego. Your fingers deftly tuck themselves into his waistband, tugging the sash loose. The sheer coral fabric that draped across his chest, as well as the teal and crimson panels of fabric that hung around his hips, fall slack. Rafayel flicks the coral fabric over his shoulder while you remove the excess fabric from his lower half.

Once he kicks his pants off, nude aside from the gold adornments across his chest and the shimmering teal cloth tied to both biceps that loops behind his back, you waste no time alighting yourself on his lap once more. Rafayel places his hands at your waist, though they only remain there briefly before sliding upwards, drumming along your ribcage. His thumbs brush against the fabric of your top; the body jewelry you wear, identical to your lover’s, softly jingles with the motion. Your hands press against his shoulders to steady yourself, pussy hovering above his hard cock. Lowering your body, the pretty flushed tip catches at your slick entrance briefly before it slips, brushing right past your clit.

You bite down on your lip to stifle the whine that threatens to leave your throat. Rafayel’s breath stutters; a short, shuddering gasp at the sensation of his tip dragging across your folds. Your walls clench at the spark of pleasure stemming from that sensitive bud, and you can’t help yourself; you rock against him again, folds practically gliding against his shaft, leaving your arousal along his length. A groan leaves your partner’s lips, equal parts frustrated and eager.

“Make me yours, princess.”

His demand is strained, desperate; as if he’s barely holding himself back from grabbing your hips and rutting into you. He wants you to indulge, wants you to claim him - and you’re going to grant that wish of his. It’s your wish, too, after all, even though you know very well that he’s already yours… and that he’s been yours for a while now.

Your response to him comes in the form of your hand grasping his length, holding him steady as you tuck the leaking tip against your entrance again. You ease yourself down onto him slowly, taking him into your slick heat inch by inch. The leisurely descent is almost agonizing, but you pride yourself on your self control as you try to draw the act out; you’ve always relished the initial stretch of your walls whenever he first enters you, his girth providing the perfect amount of stretch. Rafayel’s jaw clenches while you take your time, trying to keep his breathing and hips steady as you work your way down. A pleased little sigh escapes you once you’re fully seated on his lap, his member nestled all snug inside you, filling you so deliciously.

With both of your hands braced against his shoulders once more, you lift your hips until just his tip remains inside. A short pause, a deep breath. Then, your tight heat engulfs his length again, quicker this time. You grind against him, back arching as you rock your hips, though you continue to take your sweet time. The languid drag of his cock as you ride him drives you crazy, but it allows the pleasure to swell gradually; the warmth of arousal slowly spreads from your core to the rest of your body.

“Your Highness…” Rafayel gasps out between breathy little moans that you manage to pull from him. Every few thrusts, his hips buck upwards as he ruts into you - a whine escapes your throat each time it happens, and you find yourself shuddering as your head starts to hang between your shoulders. Your hands curl into fists against his chest, leaving pale pink lines as your nails scrape against the skin. “Aren’t you being too much of a tease, now?”

When Rafayel’s grip around your waist tightens and he starts to control the rhythm of your bodies, clearly tired of your mischief, you put more of your weight into your descent and firmly plant yourself on his lap. His brows twitch and his lips curl into a pouty scowl when he’s unable to continue to thrust up into you, the pace coming to a grinding halt. Your knees tightly press around his hips, further restricting you both, though you can’t help but rock your hips in small, torturously languid circles while you try to catch your breath. A strangled groan leaves Rafayel’s lips as he throws his head back, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh of your abdomen, one of his thighs jumping in response to the constrained, regulated pleasure.

A breathless laugh escapes you in a huff and you can’t help but smirk at his crumbling composure.

All movement on his part halting, Rafayel’s eyes narrow, shades of ruby red briefly gleaming in stark contrast against the dark azure surrounding it. His expression is dangerous, and suddenly you realize your mistake. A shudder wracks your body, though you’re not sure if it’s due to uneasiness or anticipation.

He’s going to swallow you whole.

And you’ll let him. You’ll welcome it, even.

There’s a moment of stillness, of bated breaths - then, your vision spins as Rafayel flips your positions. Fingers clutching his shoulders, you cling to him as your world shifts. Your back is pressed into the mattress now, and he’s hovering above you. With the way his bangs frame his face, the flickering candle light is blocked from fully reaching his eyes; the shadows make his gaze even more intoxicating. Given how tightly both your hips had been pressed together before your hubris, his cock easily remains firmly lodged inside you despite the shifting of bodies and power. You suppress the low moan that bubbles up in your chest, arousal spiking as he pins you beneath him, his cockhead pressing right up against your cervix. Fuck, you feel so full like this.

He leans down and nuzzles his nose against your cheek; it feels almost cool against your warm skin. One of his palms rests on your hip, while the other is planted against the bed. A shiver runs down your spine as his breath fans over your ear, and you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to calm your heart pounding with anticipation. Quietly, he chuckles; you almost feel it more than you hear it. When he pulls his face away slightly, you open your eyes and they flit up to meet his gaze. With a smug smirk, not unlike the one you gave him moments ago, he speaks. “Forgive me, but I’m getting impatient tonight. I need you, princess.”

“Rafayel–?”

As if to prove his words, he pulls out just slightly before rutting back into you again sharply. You’re left breathless as your back arches upwards, and your thighs twitch against his hips. Rafayel pushes himself into a more upright position, moving both palms to your waist, using your hips as an anchor and holding you tight as he starts to steadily roll his hips against yours. A keening whine leaves your throat as your head lolls to the side, overwhelmed with pleasure even as your walls greedily suck him in.

“You’re - hah - so gorgeous like this… Gonna make you feel so good…” Rafayel groans, heavily affected by the exquisite sensation of your walls clenching around him, your arousal drenching his length and making a mess where your bodies meet. Though subtle, you can feel your own pulse in your walls that are stretched tightly around his girth whenever he presses his cock in as deep as it can go.

Your body begins to adjust - somewhat - to his unrelenting thrusts, becoming used to the waves of pleasure that flush through your core. You focus your gaze on him; his cheeks are flushed with desire and exertion, a sheen of sweat glistening at his temples and along his delicate neck, lips parted as a result of his panting breaths and husky groans that accentuate the cadence of his hips. Eyes fixated on his mouth, his pretty lips that you want on yours so badly, your fingers twitch against his shoulders before they move.

Hooking your fingers through the gold metal dangling inches away from his sternum, you yank him down; he yelps and frantically catches himself with his palms against the mattress, pulled off balance by the sharp movement. His rhythm falters, hips stilling at the sudden change in position. You then loop your arms around the back of his neck, keeping him close and not allowing him to escape. Most of his weight rests on you, though his forearms dig into the bed on either side of your ribcage, propping him up just enough so that he isn’t crushing you. Capturing his lips with yours, you muffle the gratified groan that crawls up your throat.

The kiss is messy, sloppy as your open mouths press against each other. Teeth graze plush lips, slightly too abrasive, though neither of you can bring yourselves to care. Tongues meet, brush past one another, depart. Rafayel coaxes a moan from you as the tip of his tongue curls up against the roof of your mouth, and you retaliate by sucking his bottom lip in, biting down; a breathy whimper escapes him. He breaks the kiss momentarily to inhale deeply, rocking his hips against yours as his lust-hazed mind remembers that his length is buried deep in you, hard and throbbing.

With the current angle of his hips, each time he moves against you, friction greets your clit. Your legs, hooked around his waist to keep him close, help corral his body in towards yours each time he rolls against you. “Nn, Rafayel…”

“Hm?” His answering hum rumbles against the crook of your neck, where his lips are leaving soft kisses along with light, pinching nips from his teeth. A swipe of his tongue and a loving peck soothes the skin, and his hand - one now roaming your body, nails dragging lightly across the side of your plump breast and down the curve of your ribs - provides a sweet, tantalizing distraction. Your eyes flutter shut and you tighten your hold on him, fingers clutching at the string of body jewelry that rests against his spine.

Each time he drives his length into your sopping wet pussy, a short little moan bubbles out of your mouth. You’re too far gone at this point; any thoughts of banter and teasing nonexistent in your mind. All that matters right now is Rafayel, how he’s making you feel, and how he’s indulging in you as he chases his own pleasure. “Please, Raf… I need…” your begging drops off into a whine. The muscles in your lower abdomen are tense, a manifestation of your desperation because you need to cum soon, or you’re going to lose your mind.

“You’re taking my cock so well,” Rafayel praises, statement husky and ending in a low moan. “Nngh–! Such a good girl, such a perfect little princess for me.” He’s just as close to falling apart as you are, his breathing heavy as he pants against your skin. His fingers press into your skin in a halfhearted attempt to ground himself.

Your eyes roll back into your head when he calls you a good girl, his perfect little princess - his voice sends a white-hot flash of arousal straight to your core, and your pussy practically drools around him in response, body shuddering as your orgasm edges ever closer. When Rafayel’s fingers start moving in tight, quick circles on your clit, you bite down sharply on your bottom lip, subduing the high-pitched cry torn from your throat.

“Raf - ah - Rafayel…” you babble, and your fingers clutch at his back, tugging at the jewelry as if it’s your lifeline. His tip brushes against that spongy spot repeatedly with each pass of his hips, and you vaguely notice the barely perceptible tremble of your limbs in the midst of your lust. “I’m–I’m close–”

And with a well-timed, sharp thrust while his fingers press down on your clit, you come undone. Your back arches and you cry out, walls clamping down tightly around his cock before fluttering, subsequently coaxing his orgasm from him. Your breath hitches when you feel the subtle, telltale warmth pooling deep in your canal, right up against your cervix. The sensation is accompanied by a sultry mix between a groan and a whine coming from Rafayel, forehead pressing against your collarbone.

With a shuddering exhale, he relaxes against you, weight bearing down on you, suffocating you just a little. Your fingers untangle themselves from the body jewelry and ghost over his shoulders, his skin sweaty and sticky beneath your touch. After a few moments where you try to catch your breath, you lightly smack his bicep. “You’re crushing me.”

Rafayel grumbles a bit, complaints unintelligible, but pushes himself up onto his forearms, peeling his body off of yours. He shifts back, pulling his softening cock out of your pussy - your walls clenching almost instinctively as if trying to keep him in - then flops over onto the bed beside you. Now with his weight off you, your lungs can get the air they need. Inhaling deeply, your eyelids slide shut as you allow your body to go limp against the gold-embroidered velvet donning the bed. It’s soft, easily holding onto the warmth from your activities.

Moments later, Rafayel’s hands grasp at you and pull you against him. Your face scrunches at the tacky feeling of your sweaty-and-cooling skin against his, but the mild distaste is easily overshadowed by the warmth of your heart as you indulge in a bit of skinship after your little romp. Lying on your side, you press yourself against his front and sling an arm over his waist lazily, letting out a tired but pleased little sigh. A few heartbeats later, you crack your eyes open and look up at him, head resting on his arm - your own personal pillow (until your beloved complains that his arm is going tingly and numb, and then you’re going to have to deal with him rolling away in the other direction, and you’ll delegate yourself as the big spoon).

Rafayel’s eyes meet yours and his eyes light up with the grin that spreads his lips. He nods his head to the side, gesturing vaguely towards the door. “Think she’s still out there?”

Snapped out of your blissful little reverie, you huff, a pout on your lips as you reach up and pinch his cheek softly. The way his skin squishes between your thumb and forefinger is reminiscent of a marshmallow. “I don’t know,” you answer with a sigh and you press your face against his chest again, hiding away from reality. “I guess I don’t really care. It’s not like they don’t already expect this from us.”

“True.” The agreement is punctuated with a quiet laugh from Rafayel, softened as he nuzzles his cheek against the top of your head. “Though I think it’s funny that you took on the role of the promiscuous princess so easily.”

He yelps as you retaliate with a sharp bite to his shoulder.

The candles in your bedchambers continue to burn late into the night.

You’re unsure when exactly the maid beyond the door left - all you knew is that she was gone from her post by the time you and Rafayel had bothered to extract yourselves from each other to go check.

You’re leaning against Rafayel’s side as you two sit up side by side in the bed, cheek pressed into his shoulder. Even though the incense has long been extinguished, the faint smoky fragrance continues to linger in the room, contributing to the ongoing intimacy of these moments.

Plucking a grape from the bowl in your lap, you hold it up to your beauty’s lips. He obediently opens his mouth and you pop the fruit in, fingertips brushing against his lips. His eyes flick from your face to the map that he’s holding up before the two of you. Chewing absentmindedly, his gaze traces over the notes the two of you had scribbled into the parchment earlier.

Popping a grape into your own mouth, you also look over the map. You two have marked the caves that are most likely to hold the mural that should allow your return back to your original world. With a decisive hum, Rafayel folds the map up, setting it off to the side. He then turns his body towards you, and you make a disgruntled noise in the back of your throat as your support - in the form of his shoulder - moves away from you.

His hands grasp the bowl, taking it off your lap as he cradles it in his arms; then he slots himself in your arms, resting his weight comfortably against you. You slump against the propped up pillows and cushions that support your back, allowing him to use you as his own pillow. He noses your collarbone, brushing freely along the skin, your jewelry having been removed some time ago. Rafayel picks up a grape and holds it up to your lips to feed you and pamper you, just as you had done for him. You take the grape into your mouth while giving a teasing nip to the tip of his finger at the same time. He smiles up at you, eyebrows raised in amusement.

“You know, all things considered, I’d say our time here hasn’t been terrible,” Rafayel starts, grabbing another grape to feed you. Once you take it, he licks the watery syrup that lingers on the pad of his thumb.

You shrug and nod your head. “Yeah,” you agree, though your tone is more ambivalent. “I won’t lie, it’s been kind of fun. A vacation in and of itself, almost. But…” You run your fingers through his dusky purple hair, lightly massaging his scalp. Rafayel practically melts against you. “I’m looking forward to being back home.”

“Mm, me too.” Rafayel’s long arms deposit the bowl of grapes - now nearly empty - onto the side table before settling back down into your embrace. His fingers trace languid, abstract images into the bare skin of your torso, his blue-pink eyes drowsy and half-lidded. A yawn escapes his lips and he nuzzles his face against your chest. “Does tomorrow night sound good to you?”

“Yeah, we’ll leave tomorrow.”

In the meantime, you’ll happily luxuriate in these moments with Rafayel as the princess and her sweetheart, certain that you two will find your way back home.

[plussizefantasia]

Don't Cry over Spilled Lemonade pt.2

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x f!reader

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: A little bit of dread on the reader's part but mostly it's fluff and yearning, just the way I like it.

A/N: hahaha I finally finished it!!!! Thanks for all the love on part one it really made me so happy to see so many people liking the little story that I wrote half asleep <3

Anthony wrestled with his thoughts for the rest of the evening. He hated himself deeply for hurting you and even more for not remembering it. Knowing himself though, he knew that his actions were probably fueled by a desire to leave the gathering and visit Siena, she had been his refuge in the years before and during Daphne’s debut. 

He would never forgive himself if the reason you would not ever stand to be in the same room with him was his naive infatuation with the opera singer. Especially given the fact that as soon as he met you all thoughts of her flew from his eyes and he never thought of her in that way again. Deep down he knew that his heart now belonged to you although that thought was much too terrifying to dwell on for more than a minute.

You on the other hand were reeling with the new information. You had vowed to hate Anthony Bridgerton until your dying day but his pleas for forgiveness had shaken your will. You still held a deep anger towards him, one that you didn’t think would go away any time soon. But it was becoming harder and harder for you to find the detestation in yours that had once been bubbling at the surface.

You didn't know what to expect from the Viscount anymore, you had always had a pretty clear picture of the man in your mind, and in one fell swoop he had shattered it like glass. Seeing him playing with his younger siblings in the park the day after your conversation in the hallway certainly didn’t help settle your mind.

If there was one thing you knew about Anthony Bridgerton it was that he loved his family. Sometimes he goes about it in the wrong way but you could tell that he does everything he does for them, even getting grass stains on his trousers because Hyancithy and Gregory are insistent that he plays tag with them in the great park.

It is their laughter that draws your attention first followed shortly by a sharp shout and even more giggles. You are fortunate enough to catch sight of the Viscount tripping and landing on his backside, his hands falling to the side of him and right into what looks to be some freshly planted flower beds. His head hangs and he takes a heaving sigh before pushing himself back up. You can’t help but laugh at the sight.

Anthony would be able to recognize your laugh anywhere, he hears it flowing through the halls of his home enough that it’s become ingrained in his mind. His head turns to where you are and your eyes meet. He is taken aback by the warmth he finds in them. How long has it been since you’ve looked at home with anything but detached coldness?

It is Hyancinth who bridged the gap between the two of you, with a shout of your name she comes bounding across the green and practically leaps into your open arms. 

“Hello sweet girl, having fun are we?” Your hand runs down the back of her head and you smile down at her.

“We were playing a game of tag, would you like to join us.” Sometimes you forget how innocent the young girl is. Her smile is contagious as it spreads across your own face.

“On any other day my darling but I’ve only cut through the park on my way to visit with Lady Danbury and you know how she is about punctuality.”

“Oh.” Her face falls and your heart follows.

“How about this? Once I am done calling upon her ladyship I shall stop by and you can finally show me the new dresses you got for dolly Molly okay?”

Her smile returns full force and she squeezes you a little tighter before conjuring up a mask of faux indifference.

“I suppose I can accept that.” 

“You’re starting to sound like Viscount grumpypants over there.” You tickle at her side.

“I heard that,” Anthony calls from a ways away, Greg held under his arm.

“I was not trying to keep quiet my Lord.” Your eyes meet his once again and Anthony cannot help the little bubbling of hope that builds inside his chest when he sees the lightheartedness contained in your gaze.

“That’s Lord Grumpypants to you.” He shoots back and delights in the way your smile widens. 

“Very well Lord Grumpypants, I must be off but I’ll see you all later.” You say the last words down at the young lady still wrapped up in your arms. You give her one final squeeze before releasing her and bowing your head slightly at her older brother. You try not to dwell too much on how much you enjoy the viscount’s smile.

Anthony takes the day in the park as a sign, one that shows him all hope is not lost. All he needs to do is fix his mistake. He craved you, that much he knew. He craved your smile and your laugh, he yearned for your kind eyes and the way you seemed to float when you walked. He has never considered himself a particularly creative man but the images his mind conjures of the two of you make him second-guess himself.

He did not have time to imagine for very long, however, as Colin was due to return today for the start of the season and Eloise seemed to need constant supervision lest she run away the first chance she got. The Danbury ball could not come soon enough.

The Danbury ball was one of legend, the older woman’s opening ball was not one to be missed as it set the tone for the rest of the season. Young women not lucky enough to gain the Queen’s favor had a second chance at the Danbury ball, a chance to show themselves off to the ton once more in the hopes of catching the eye of an eligible young man. 

You were no different than those young ladies, primping and preening all day long with the hopes that you would be able to secure a match this season before you become too old to do so. Your mother was adamant that this season had to be spectacular, you had to look and act your best always. She was weary and weeping, moaning about how you’d be letting down the family if you were unable to secure a match.

It was interesting you thought, how quickly she changed her tune. During your debut season, she had spoken dreamingly about a love match and finding happiness and now you were sure that she would shove you off to whoever if it meant that you would be married. It seemed your Mama’s greatest fear was you becoming a spinster. 

You obliged her whims, after all, you did wish to find a match. You had always dreamed of a love match. With every year that passed by the candle of hope held within your heart flickered, it was small now, but you had to admit that it still burned. You still soothed your restless nights with dreams of a husband and children, a loving home full of laughter and joy. That is the future you want, that is the future you will fight for.

Tonight you aim to make an entrance, any attention at this point is better than being snubbed. You wore a gown of deep red, with golden lace around the bodice and black and gold beading around the waistline and down the back. Your maid pulled and twisted your hair, piling it upon your head and creating a bold and dramatic look. You were going to pull attention, you had to.

And pull attention you did, from the moment you entered the ballroom all eyes were on you. Ladies whispered and hid behind their fans. Men stood in circles with their peers but you caught the glance of more than one bachelor. And yet, nobody had approached you. You were beginning to feel the flash in your cheeks. Perhaps this was too much, such boldness was offputting and you should have stuck to the known. Dressed in soft pinks and whites, proclaiming purity and softness. 

Anthony was beside himself. You were the most ethereal creature he had ever had the privilege of laying his gaze on and he wished to spend the whole night by your side; catching up on all the lost time. He knew though, that you would never allow that, and he would rather die than hurt you again. 

So he watched and watched and watched. As time ticked on those cowards kept you waiting. Dances began and ended, people arrived and left and all the while you were stood, bathed in candlelight and alone. 

The sun had long since set and you were done. No longer would you endure this embarrassment. You had followed your gut and put yourself out there and it had failed. You were destined to be alone you suppose.

Just as you were getting ready to turn away and retreat back to the safety of your family home a hand entered your sight. Palm up and inviting, your eyes traced slowly up the arm and towards the face of the gentleman who had finally put you out of your misery.

Anthony Bridgerton stood before you, arm outstretched and a small smile on his face. “A lady as beautiful as yourself does not deserve to spend the whole night without a single dance.” 

“Are you offering?” You looked him in the eye and raised a brow. This was the first time since your conversation in the hallways that Anthony had approached you without one of his siblings present to be a buffer.

“I’m giving you an opportunity.”

“And what might that be?” You tilted your head to the side and watched as a smirk slowly spread across his face.

“You have a choice, right here and right now. Either grasp my hand and we dance the rest of the night away, opinions be damned. Or you snub me, snub me like I snubbed you that night, and get your revenge.”

You exhale a laugh and look at him. His face held a smile but also a certain seriousness that belayed his intention. This was him making it up to you. He would accept rejection if that is what you wanted. 

Here he was, the man who had hurt you and who you still held a flame for offering himself up to like a lamb to slaughter. 

You must’ve been taking a long time to answer because the Viscount began shifting on his feet. He looked around the room at the other couples who began to take to the dancefloor.

“I do not mean to rush you my lady, but the dance will be starting soon.”

“Anthony you must promise me.”

“Anything, name it and it’s yours.” 

“Promise me that you will never hurt me again, I don’t think my heart could take it.” You took his hand. And let your lips curve into a gentle smile.

He pulled your hand wrapped within his own close to his heart, and vowed, “I will do everything in my power to protect you for the rest of my days, even if the one I am protecting you from is myself.”

“I don’t need protection Anthony,” you looked deeply into his eyes, “I just need your love, honest and true.”

“Then you shall have it.” 

Anthony pulled you to the dancefloor and led you in far too many dances to be appropriate that night. And every night for the rest of the season. And neither of you cared about what the rest of the ton had to say. You had each other, finally, and neither of you was letting go anytime soon. 

taglist: @ilikestuffs-stuff @cat-lockwood @wolf-phoenix-lover

@tenshis-cake @bridkesby @divergentalwaysandforever-blog @lillysfrogsandbogs @unholyhuntress

[r3leee]

you asked, you shall receive !

HEY QUEENS!! i am SO sorry for getting this out so late, your girl was going through it 😭😭 (two concerts, two tests, socratic seminar prep, and finding out i’m bi all in one week). anyway, thanks for waiting, here you go <333

pairing: dom!billie eilish x sub!fem!reader

summary: your girlfriend, billie’s, been doing promo work all day for her business trip. naturally, when she gets back, she wants a piece of you, and though you can offer that to her, you have to be quiet… (continuation of this drabble)

warnings: RPF!! don’t like, don’t read, established relationship, no direct smut but like a little if you squint (i’m not sure if i’m ready to sail that ship yet), hickeys, pet names (sweet girl n baby), exhibitionism kink if you squint, implied-girly/femme!reader

word count: 716, should take about five and a half minutes to read (IT'S SHORT IKKKK I'M SORRY)

listen to: needy by ariana grande

IF YOU COULD use one word to describe your girlfriend, one of the last things in your mind would be clingy. handsy? yes. possessive? yes. dominant? oh, ya. but clingy? no, not really.

she only ever got like that when she was away from you for a while or really, really horny; today’s case was the latter.

you two were currently in paris for a bit of promo. you both were very happy you were able to be on this trip, since you were usually subjected to staying at home.

the past few days were relatively normal: getting settled in and a photoshoot. but today was more intense.

today, billie had multiple photoshoots and an interview. she had to wake up early for them, so by the time you were up, she was gone. instead of heading straight for the studio, you decided to treat yourself a bit.

that morning, you ate at a small café and went shopping at the local stores. you got lots of things: jewelry, makeup, accessories, and of course, clothes.

while in a certain store, you found this gorgeous dress. it was sleeveless and shiny in your favorite color, fit with a bow in the back.

you immediately bought it and changed into it before going to visit your girlfriend.

she was on her break when you walked in, hands riddled with bags galore. when she heard the door open, she looked up, a stern expression on her face, but it immediately softened when she saw you. “hi, sweet girl,” she immediately beamed.

you walked over to her, placing a light kiss to her cheek before she cupped your face and kissed you in the lips. “hi,” you replied softly. she smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before you sat on the velvety couch.

“where were you?” you quickly set your bags down, going on about the morning you had. but, she couldn’t help her eyes constantly drifting down to your dress. the way it fit on you, slightly raising up on your thighs was enamoring and she couldn't tear her gaze away.

later, billie was doing a photoshoot as you sat behind the camera and watched. she was stunning with her ocean-blue eyes and long black hair. you weren't aware of it, because, at some point, you had some emails to reply to, but when she wasn't being photographed, she was staring at you. so much so that at some point, the director had to tell her to focus.

that's how you ended up here: in your girlfriend's lap, a hand over your mouth.

“shh…gotta stay quiet, baby, right?” she nodded towards the bathroom.

for this specific trip, like most, you booked a connected room for you two and finneas. but, upon arrival, the staff had informed you there was some kind of plumbing issue in finneas' bathroom, and that the shower there was shut off.

of course, it was unrealistic to make him not shower the whole trip, so right now, he was borrowing yours. you were just wondering why he had to be borrowing it right now

you nodded as she whispered, “good."

at this point, she'd been on you for what, 10 minutes now? you weren't sure how she still had room to keep sucking and marking at your neck, almost similar to a mosquito drawing blood. red and purple hickeys cascaded all over your neck to the point it was almost painful, but you didn't ever tell her to stop. not once. she was too precious for you to tell her no.

every time you heard a noise coming from the bathroom, you turned your head, worried you'd get caught. but, never more than two seconds later, a hand on your jaw would turn you back. "it's fine, baby," billie would whisper. "we're gonna be careful, not get caught," she'd reassure you before attacking your neck again. all you could do was whine.

that was until you heard the door creak open. "fuck." immediately, billie threw a stray blanket over you as she went on her phone. you just stared up at the ceiling.

finneas walked back to his room without a second glance. and as soon as the door shut, your girlfriend took the blanket off you. "come here. we're good now."

[mint-yooxgi]

Kinktober Day 20 - Yandere!Siren!Hongjoong + Biting & Oral Fixation

@stopaskinf Said: Yandere!siren! Kim Hongjoong with biting/marking and oral fixation. A/n: Okay, but a yandere siren just fits him so well... Warnings/Genre/Rating: 18+ MDNI - Smut, Mature, Established Relationship, Possession, Yandere, Monster Features, Blood Word Count: 1,170 Kinktober 2024 Mini Masterlist

Slow hands trace lovingly over your curves, fingers dancing across your bare skin. Each movement is soft, precise in the way he grounds you to him after another earth shattering orgasm.

Around you, waves gently lap at the shore. On the horizon, you can see the peek of the first rays of golden sunlight beginning to streak across the sky. One by one, the stars littering the heavens disappear, leaving nothing but a vast open space left only with a few wisps of white clouds.

“You’re doing so well for me, Gorgeous.” A tender voice hums from between your legs.

Hongjoong’s eyes are sharp, hooded over in pleasure as he watches you carefully. His pitch black tail is bent in the air, the extravagant fin both delicate and flared as it flicks languidly. Each brush of the surf over the two of you offers a refreshing reprise from the heat coursing through your body, the tide ebbing and flowing along with the pools of pleasure he makes flood outwards from deep within your core.

Light kisses are placed along the skin of your inner thighs, Hongjoong taking his time to give his full attention to either side. His lips trace delicately over you, tongue flicking out to tease at such a sensitive area as you catch your breath.

Tenderly, he nuzzles his nose against you, eyes fluttering shut in bliss. “There is no taste in this world sweeter than you, Treasure.”

A soft sigh of his name escapes you, reaching out to gently brush some wet strands of hair out of his eyes.

“How I’ve longed for this… Are you enjoying how I claim you?”

Black eyes flick open to meet your own, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

You clench around nothing in response, reminded of how his mouth felt on you only moments ago. The sand is soft beneath your head as you look to the sky, another blissful sigh falling from you.

“I could stay in this moment forever.”

The admission draws a pleased growl from the siren between your legs.

“Then, I shall never let you leave.” His grip tightens over your thighs, settling them once more over his shoulders. “As if I could ever let such a treasure escape me now. You’re mine, Gorgeous. As I am yours. Forever.”

The moment those words fall from his lips, he leans into you. You manage to catch a glimpse of his fangs in the morning sunlight before he’s sinking them into the tender flesh of your inner thigh.

A gasp escapes you as you feel him bite into you, a low, pleased growl reverberating against your skin.

Not even a moment later, Hongjoong pulls away from you, licking your blood eagerly from his lips. A self-satisfied smile pulls at his features, eyes shining as they admire the new mark he’s just given you. At the small trail of blood he sees leaking from the wound, he hums, leaning back into you in order to trace the droplet back up to the bite. Gently, he laves his tongue over your flesh, a melodic coo echoing throughout the area as he cleans your fresh mark.

Again, your breathing deepens, and instead of feeling a sharp sting of pain, you feel complete. A pleasant warmth blooms in your chest, spreading outwards as you feel him kiss up your thigh from the mark and towards your dripping cunt. Soft whines escape you, eyes hooding over as you watch him between your legs, beginning to squirm beneath him in anticipation.

The corner of his lips quirks upwards, pride swelling in his chest as he watches you silently beg for his touch. His mouth hovers over your pussy, bringing a hand up to part your folds with his fingers. Not once does he break eye contact with you as you watch a mixture of his saliva and your blood drip slowly from his mouth and onto your clit.

Your heart flutters, clenching hard around nothing as you watch him lick his lips. Not even a moment later, his mouth is on you, sucking on that pert little bud eagerly once more.

Shameless moans and growls escape him, his tongue working over your clit as he gathers every last drop of both his and your combined fluids. Black eyes never lose focus, fixated on every reaction you give him as he flattens his tongue against your clit, circling over that sensitive little bud in the next moment.

Your thighs tense, threatening to close around his head at any moment as he keeps your pussy spread for him to devour. Already, he’s made you so sensitive from your previous releases, that every flick of his tongue over your clit makes your body jolt. Whines and whimpers escape you, his name nothing but a plea from your lips.

That familiar pressure begins building inside of you once more, tossing your head back as you feel him shift to trace his tongue over your weeping entrance. The fact that he presses himself fully into you, thrusting his tongue as deep as he can within your cunt to taste all of you has your hips jerking against his face.

Happily, his tail flicks through the air.

His fingers dig harshly into your hips, pulling you impossibly closer as he wraps his lips around your clit once more. Eagerly, he suckles at you, shaking his head back and forth as a guttural moan escapes him.

Your fingers tighten in his hair, holding him to you as your thighs begin to shake uncontrollably. His name is all you can manage to whimper out, head spinning as the pleasure threatens to drown you at any moment.

With one final flick over your clit, your scream his name.

Black eyes shine with nothing but lustful pride as your back arches from the sand. The way your thighs feel closing around his head, your heartbeat ringing in his ears as the mark he gave you presses right against him fills him with a love unlike anything he’s ever felt before.

His fingers tighten on your thighs, helping you to ride through your high and give you the most pleasure that he possibly can. Nothing but pleased growls shake his chest, tail casting an almost protective shadow over your body as the sun rises slowly behind him.

Finally, he pulls away from you, licking his lips languidly.

“Fucking gorgeous, Treasure.” He coos, hands caressing over your body as you come down from your high. “I could never tire of your taste.”

All you can manage is a whimper in response, chest heaving. The fact that you can see your juices shining in the morning light as they drip down his chin makes your head spin. Still, your thighs shake.

A pleased hum escapes him as his fingers dance across your skin, a ravenous look glinting in his eyes.

“Don’t tell me you’re already tired, Gorgeous.” A dark chuckle escapes him as he begins pulling you deeper into the tide. “We’ve only just begun.”

[sukirichi]

dusk till dawn drabble : thinking about a future where kiyoomi marries you and rintaro is married to iris, but rintaro still has feelings for you. and how kiyoomi is the definition of cocky knowing he was the one you chose in the end

note: this is for the team kiyoomi peeps !! but please know that this is not alluding that he is endgame, this is not a spoiler at all 😭 this is just a soft lil something for our prince 💓 (slightly suggestive, light angst for rintaro)

“omi...” treading to where your husband is, you sit yourself on his lap. his face is obscured by the newspaper he’s reading, but he hums in acknowledgement, unbothered as you gently push the paper down with your finger. you smile the moment you’re greeted by his handsome face, still in awe after years of marriage that he was yours now.

“hi, there.”

“hello,” he smiles, soft and tender. folding the newspaper and tucking it at his side, he drags you closer to him, his large hands drawing circles at your hip. “what does my lovely wife need today?”

“you make it sound like i’m only being sweet to get something out of you,” you playfully swat at his chest, “can’t i just come over because i wanted your attention?”

the chuckle that erupts from him is free, unbothered ― as he has been ever since you’d settled down with him and left the past behind. “you always have my attention, darling, but you only ever call me ‘omi’ when you want something else. so tell me, and i shall give it to you.”

your heart flutters at his words, but that same wave of giddiness dies down as you scrunch your nose. “well, you see. . . rintaro’s coming over with the kids later. they said they wanted to play with the horses again.”

you expect your husband to complain, or to refuse your request to welcome them. he isn’t oblivious to your ex-husband’s longing glances at you, or how he takes every opportunity to strike up a conversation on how ‘back in the day . . .’

rintaro’s lingering feelings never dissipated within the years, and you doubted it would anytime now. he had a bad of habit remaining in love with the people he couldn’t have when he was already with someone else.

much to your surprise, kiyoomi only leans back and nods, once. “okay. i’ll let the cook know to prepare dinner for all of us.”

okay . . . that’s it? it was that easy?

“you’re not worried?“ you pout at him, “or jealous?”

kiyoomi snorts, offended by the implications. “why would i be? i am the one you fell for, the one you married, and last time i remember ― if my memory does not fail me, of course ― it was my name you were screaming last night loud enough for the staff to hear―”

you slap a palm against his mouth, feeling his grin and laughter vibrate under your skin. “fine, i get it, you’ve made your point!” removing your hand, kiyoomi tenderly circles a hand around your wrist. your frown deepens, though its lighthearted and unserious. “you’ve been really cocky since i confessed to you. i liked you better when you were still shy around me.”

“forgive me, darling,” your husband grins, effortlessly tugging you to him until you’re stumbling right into his firm chest. “i couldn’t be humble when the woman i’ve pined over for years finally said she loved me, too. but i’ll be more subtle about it,” he amends with a thumb caressing your lower lip, his dark eyes already hazy with want. “your wish is my command, afer all.”

[sinofwriting]

Girls Are Private Creatures - Pierre Gasly & Charles Leclerc

Words: 2,399 Summary: Pierre and her have always been best friends, having a baby together didn't change or complicate that until he says something he doesn't mean to. Note(s): Was very fun to write and somehow Charles managed to sneak in his way into this as a love interest, still not too sure how that happened, lol. This is a one off, no part two, sorry everyone! Also, I don’t speak french and while I didn’t use google translate for the french, I still used a translator.

Masterlist | Support Me!

“Ah, there are my favorite girls!” Charles exclaims, jogging over to them, exchanging kisses on the cheek with her before taking the baby out of her arms. Elodie gives him a gummy smile and he coos at her, nosing at her hair, before pressing a kiss to her cheek, a giggle leaving her because of the smacking sound it makes. “So, beautiful, Miss Elodie. I shall have to keep you and your maman close.”

She shakes her head at the poor wink Charles gives her, but gives a nod, stepping beside him as he begins to walk around the grid.

“Is that Elodie?” Max asks, as they start to pass the Red Bull garage. “Can I?” He asks, looking at her, with his arms already reached out to take her from Charles. Charles pouts at her, but she ignores him, looking at her content baby. “Elodie.” Her little head turns to look her way. “You want to go to Uncle Max?” Elodie gives a little squeal at the name, hands shaking and she smiles, nodding. Max eagerly takes the baby from Charles' arms. “I can’t believe you are letting Max Verstappen hold her.” He pouts. “You are just mad, your Elodie time got cut short.” She playfully scolds, bumping their hips together. He pokes his bottom lips further out for a second, before throwing an arm over her shoulder, tugging her close for a side hug as they watch Max talk to Elodie, bringing her into the Red Bull garage and pointing out different things to her.

“How are you feeling?” She sighs, drawing away from Charles. “I’m fine, Cha. You don’t need to worry about me.” He frowns at her, crossing his arms over his chest. “You are my friend. I will of course worry.” He then tilts his head to nod at her face. “You have circles, chéri.” “I have a six month old. Sleep is not a blessing I get.” Her french accent is thicker and his eyebrows raise, her upset clear just from that. “You only get circles when you are worried and not sleeping. What is happening?” She swallows, eyes locked on Elodie who now is babbling to Max in her babytalk, the driver has such a serious look on his face, as though he understands every word of it and is taking notes. The words are bubbling up in her but she sees Christian joining Max and Elodie and upon spotting her, he smiles waving her over. “It is nothing, Cha.” She shakes her head, giving him a smile, before reaching forward to squeeze his arm. “Let me know if you’d like to stay the night with us. Elodie always loves seeing her godfather.” “Of course.” He murmurs, watching as she leaves to join the trio in the Red Bull garage and before he can think better of it, he’s moving to Alpine’s garage.

He’s easily able to get to Pierre’s drivers room and he doesn’t bother knocking, just throws the door open, uncaring of the near naked state of his best friend and his protests as he shuts the door behind him, hands settling on his hips.

“What is wrong?” “Charles!” Pierre is looking at him with wide eyes, a hand over his crotch despite the fact that he has underwear on and it’s nothing that Charles hasn’t seen before. “Get out!” “Non. What is going on? Y/N and Elodie are here, you are nowhere to be seen. She isn’t sleeping and is worried about something but won’t say what.” Charles pokes at his chest, harshly, ignoring the yelp it earns him. “What did you do?” “Why is it me who did something?” He protests, the hand that has been hovering over his crotch, moving to rub at the spot Charles had poked. The younger looks at him unimpressed. Pierre sighs, sitting on his massage table. “I, uh, I fucked up.” “That is obvious.” “Thank you, calmar.” Charles shrugs. “I said it was a mistake.” His brows furrow. “What was a mistake?” Pierre winces and he braces himself on the table. “All of it. Us kissing and then starting our, uh, benefits. And uh Elodie.”

His head wipes to the side before he knows it and he can feel the sting on his cheek and something a bit wet on his lip. His tongue darts out and he can taste a bit of blood.

“Tête de noeud.” Dickhead. Charles spits out, glaring at one of his oldest friends. “Comment pourriez-vous dire une telle chose, penser une telle chose.” How could you say such a thing, think such a thing. “Je sais.” I know. “No, vous ne faites pas de lien. Elle est votre fille.” Charles hisses. No, you don’t. She is your daughter. “Et elle est votre plus grande partisane, la seule personne qu'elle aime le plus est Elodie et pour vous,” He stops himself, shaking his head. Anger and sick tangling together and sitting heavy in his stomach. And she is your biggest supporter, the only person she loves more is Elodie and for you too, “Je ne peux même pas te regarder. Tu me dégoûtes, Pierre. Je ne veux pas vous voir près d'eux ou moi. Et j'espère que personne ne s'en posera la question. I’m not feeling kind.” I can’t even look at you. You disgust me, Pierre. I don’t want to see you near them or me. And hope that no one asks about this.

Before Pierre can say anything else, he leaves throwing the door opening and ignoring the looks from fucking Esteban of all people as he leaves the stupid French garage.

Hours later as she burps Elodie, humming softly as she walks around the hotel room, she hears a knock.

“Charles.” She greets, opening it. “Chéri.” He greets back, pressing a kiss to her cheek before stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. “She ate already.” He notes with disappointment, spotting the cloth over her shoulder. She throws him a sorry look as Elodie lets out a burp, making them both tell her good job and she pats for a few more seconds before rubbing at her back. “She’s been hungrier recently. You missed out by ten minutes.” “Is she still eating at night?” He asks, taking Elodie from her and cooing at the baby, rubbing their noses together just to see her little eyes go cross eyed before pressing a kiss to her forehead, inhaling the scent of baby with a bit of vanilla from that perfume he had bought Y/N for Christmas last year. She watches him with an amused smile. He always did the same thing with Elodie. “She wasn’t, but for the past few days, yes.” “Perfect.” He beams. “I will take the midnight feed.” “Cha,” she warns. “You have free practice tomorrow. You don’t need to exhaust yourself.” “It is free practice. Besides, I've driven the tractor hungover once already this season. I can handle a little free practice with some exhaustion.” He rolls his eyes at the idea of being exhausted from Elodie. She was many things but never exhausting and he tells her that.

“Exhausting, miss Elodie. Why I’ve never heard such a lie!” The baby giggles at his exaggerated tone and expressions, little hand going up to rest on his cheek and he pretends to eat it making her squeal. “Exactly! Your maman is crazy for saying so.” She stares at the two, feeling a pang in her heart as she’s reminded of all the times Pierre did something similar.

He always wanted the late night feeds, really any feeds he could get. He took all the diaper changes too, uncaring of the blowouts or when she started to move more how difficult it could be to get a new diaper on.

Tears prick in her eyes as she thinks of him, a weird concoction of sadness and anger dwelling in her. She knew he had been lying when he said that Elodie was a mistake. Pierre loved being a father. It hadn’t been something he wanted so young or expected but he loved Elodie, truly loved her. She was less sure about them kissing for that first time and then continuously falling into bed together. He could think of that as a mistake. But it was a mistake that led to Elodie. So could it really be one when it gave them such a perfect baby?

“Pierre told me what he said.” Charles murmurs after he sets Elodie on her playmat, which she grunts at before getting distracted by the toys hanging in front of her. She shudders, arms going over her chest. “He is a dick.” “Not in front of Elodie, Charles.” She warns. She didn’t care that Elodie couldn’t truly understand what they were saying or even hear them. She wouldn’t have Pierre insulted in front of her. “I’m sorry.” He apologizes, eyes flickering over to her before returning to Elodie whose babbling. “He shouldn’t have said those things.” “He shouldn’t have said that she was a mistake.” She corrects. “Pierre can say what he pleases about me, not her. Never her.” She murmurs. “Nor you. If you won’t stand for him saying such things for Elodie, which I will as well, I won’t stand for him saying such things about you.” “He didn’t mean it, Cha.” She shakes her head. “He loves her, adores her. Do not burn bridges you’ll regret.” “For you, I could never.” Her eyes snap away from Elodie and meet his eyes. “Charles.” He shakes his head. “Don’t say anything. I’m just telling you. You are worth more than he has given and ever thought of giving you. And if,” he pauses, lifting her hand, her left hand, to his lips. “You ever want to give us a chance, I will be here. And even if you don’t, I will still always be here for Elodie and you.” She watches with wide eyes as he presses another kiss to her hand before dropping it and pressing his lips to her forehead. “Lay down, relax, chéri. I will take care of Elodie.”

She does lay down, but she is unable to relax. Because hadn’t Pierre teased for the last year and a half that Charles had a thing for her? Something she ignored, thinking he was pulling her leg, being a little shit like normal. But to know it was true, to learn the truth of it. It sat heavy in her heart and god it aches at the thought of Charles and his feelings.

Charles wasn’t perfect, no one was, except for Elodie, but that was a bias that the majority of them had when it came to her little girl, but he was amazing even with his faults. His people pleasing ways, pushing his feelings away, not putting himself first, the anger he sometimes carried with him, the grief that still sat heavy on his shoulders. But there were his pluses as well, his dedication and focus to racing, his love for his friends and family, his ability to not have to be on all the time, to be able to sit at home or somewhere and chill, and his patience. He was unbelievably patient but also knew when to push, to not give up or in.

Something warm starts to bubble in her as she considers, admittedly not for the first time, a relationship with Charles. The way he’d come home to her and Elodie after days away. The sweaty hugs after getting out of the car. The dinners and vacations with his family. The gentle way he’d touch and hold her. Not like she was fragile, but something important. And Elodie, the way he’d be with Elodie, more so than he already was. She can see the days and nights when they have Elodie, not Pierre, how they’d put her to sleep together, play with her, read to her. Watch as she crawls and then toddles around. Can see him bringing her around Monaco to the spots he grew up with as a child and sharing them with Elodie.

The thoughts and near dreams are overwhelming but in the best way possible. However there is Pierre to consider. He wouldn’t disappear from their lives, he could never, not just because of Elodie, but because he was a best friend to both of them. He would always exist with them and she knew that Charles could handle her past with Pierre, he had already dealt with the knowledge, had a constant reminder of said past in front of him in the form of Elodie. But would Pierre be able to handle her and Elodie having a future with Charles?

They weren’t in love with each other. They certainly loved each other, but there was a reason that they only had sex and never went on dates and always made faces at the jokes and ideas of being together. Sex was a different beast than a relationship. And they both never wanted a romantic relationship with each other. They both had gone on dates with other people during their time as friends with benefits. She had only stopped after learning she was pregnant and once she was further along, Pierre had too in solidarity. It hadn’t lasted too long as soon as Elodie was two months he went back on the scene, but it had been something.

Her lips twitch into a smile as she's reminded of how excited Pierre had been when he came back from his most recent date. Rambling equally to both her and Elodie about how pretty and smart his date was and how she even liked kids, babies at that.

She’s jerked out of her thoughts by the sound of her phone chiming. Grabbing it, she sighs seeing Pierres name but opens the message.

Could I say goodnight to Elodie. Just goodnight. I won’t stay longer She sighs again, quickly typing out of course and sending it.

“Pierre is coming to say goodnight to Elodie.” She tells Charles, sitting up. He frowns, scooping Elodie up and sitting on the bed beside her before setting Elodie down to the left of her. “Will you be okay?” “I’ll be fine.” And she reaches out to him, taking his hand in hers and intertwines their fingers, earning wide eyes from him. “Besides, I think I need to talk to him.” “You mean?” “I mean, let me talk to Pierre. Make sure he’ll be okay with this. He means too much to both of us to not check.” “I will hit him again if he’s not.” The promise makes her jaw drop, “You’ll what? What do you mean again?” “Ah.” He swallows nervously, and he’s suddenly able to feel the ring that caught Pierre’s lip earlier more than ever. “Nothing?” He offers, with a smile.

@cixrosie @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @badbatch-simp24 @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @copper-boom @benstormy @boiohboii @iloveyou3000morgan @topguncultleader

[theres-a-body-here]

Got No Human Grace

Mohg x Male!reader

A/N: My beautiful, scrumptious, pookie bear beat the mohglester allegations. Me and my homies all hate MIquella the Tiquella.

As Mohg clung to you, his large frame shook, bearing numerous wounds and smeared in blood. His once regal garments were now tattered rags, and two of his horns laid broken beside him.

Despite this, there was a calm silence around you both, interrupted only by Mohg's muffled sobs and heavy breaths.

"I… I feared you wouldn't come…" His muffled voice shook, lips quivering as he pressed into your chest, clutching onto you fiercely.

His mind is his own again.

"Shh, it's alright now." You murmured, wrapping your arms protectively around him. Your fingers gently caressed his back in a calming rhythm. "You're safe now."

As you spoke, you could feel Mohg's breathing slowly return to normal against your chest. However, upon hearing the crunch of debris nearby, you lifted your head to look at the person who had helped make this reunion possible.

A heavily armored Tarnished stood before you, her weapon sheathed and her armor battle worn. She gazed down upon the scene indifferently, seemingly unfazed by the display of affection between you and Mohg.

"Thank you, truly… It won't be forgotten." You assured her sincerely, eyes glancing warmly towards her before returning to look down upon Mohg's fragile form cradled within your arms.

However, it seemed that perhaps requesting privacy might be too much to ask for.

The armor-clad Tarnished remained standing before you, staring at the two of you

It can be helped, it seems.

With a gentle motion, you pulled away from holding Mohg close momentarily and reached into your pocket. After rummaging through it for a few seconds, you produced a small flesh trinket in the jagged, vague image of femininity.

You held it delicately between your thumb and index finger, presenting it openly toward the Tarnished.

"Here, consider this a token of gratitude for your assistance today," you offered politely.

As you handed the trinket over to the warrior, Mohg's grip on you tightened slightly but made no attempt to move or react otherwise.

Septic Womb

"My Dearest, I'll find a way to grant you your wish. The Mohgwyn Dynasty shall have its heir"

An idol used in fertility rites of the Formless Mother.

Restores HP when blood loss occurs in the vicinity.

The Tarnished woman took the fleshy charm without a word of thanks, examining it briefly before slipping it away inside her armor.

She continued observing you silently for a while before casting her gaze over to where he lay dormant within his cocoon.

"Listen closely," You cautioned with urgency in your voice, grasping tightly onto Mohg as if to shield him from the very mention of Miquella's name. 

"I seek no vengeance, nor do I wish to pursue further conflict. I beg of you...leave Miquella untouched!" There was desperation lacing each word as they rolled off your tongue, pleading.

Your warning fell on deaf ears as the warrior paid no attention to your pleas, remaining silent and fixated on the distant figure sealed within the fuzzy cocoon.

An exasperated sigh left your lips as realization settled in; her intentions were never about granting aid or salvation. They were merely self-serving, exploiting opportunities to become Elden Lord.

She was a Tarnished, after all.

You watched as the warrior began to approach the distant cocoon containing the Demigod which seemed to draw her here like a moth to light.

If she wanted to play games involving divinity, that was her choice, however misguided. Right now, though, you had more pressing matters to deal with.

Mohg hadn't moved an inch since nestling against your chest, soft sobs still escaping him periodically.

"Hush now," you whispered gently, cradling his massive head between your hands as you tilted it upward towards yours. Your thumbs brushed at the damp fur from underneath his eyes while your palms rested on each side of his face.

Leaning forward, you kissed his forehead gently, then proceeded to pepper sweet kisses all over his face, even pressing a particularly long peck to the horn in his left eye.

A soft whimper escaped him, hungry for more contact as he nuzzled deeper into your embrace.

With his large hands, he kneaded at your body, leaving no doubt about what he wanted. What he missed.

He released a throaty groan as soon as your lips met his in a kiss, his mouth opening slightly as his hot breath mingled with yours.

His large hands drifted beneath your robe, blazing trails of hot fire across your skin as they traveled upwards, heat blooming throughout your entire body.

As he pulled away from your lips, Mohg looked up at you, a wicked smile spreading across his face as he tugged you closer until your bodies melded together.

He rocked his hips into yours, grinding firmly against you to let you know that he was hard as steel.

"We have much to catch up on…" He practically purred at you, squeezing your waist possessively, prompting a lustful groan to escape your mouth involuntarily.

Your brain short-circuited from the sensation, causing you to let out a meek response.

"W-we do…"