#high stakes gambling games | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aventurineswife · 1 month ago

Note

I'm currently experiencing hsr brainrot help me, may I request aventurine, blade, sunday, jing yuan and boothill about their types or preferences(appearance, personality, and stuff like that) for their future significant partner? I'm not sure if this had been already done so ignore if yes!! Also I'm a new follower and I've read many of your works recently, I really love your writing style and how it ticks my brainrot just righttt ♡♡♡

HSR Characters and their preferences in a S/O

A/N: I tried my best here, but I didn’t get into specifics about hair color, eye color, or other physical attributes (except for scars and such). So please, don’t come after me (I’m joking, of course). After all, at the end of the day, it’s all fictional! 💀 And this is just my personal opinion on what the men would want in a S/O 😇. I hope you like this!

Appearance:

Aventurine is captivated by individuals who radiate subtle individuality—those who blend sophistication with an undercurrent of boldness. Unconventional touches like asymmetrical accessories, vibrant patterns, or a daring hairstyle intrigue him, especially when worn with confidence.

He’s drawn to a balance between practicality and elegance—someone whose style is functional yet carries an artistic flair, a quiet rebellion against conformity.

A piercing gaze, sharp and confident, mesmerizes him. He loves the challenge of eyes that seem to see past his charm and into the broken truths he hides.

Scars, blemishes, or physical imperfections catch his attention. They whisper untold stories he aches to unravel, providing a glimpse into the person beyond the surface.

Personality:

Aventurine seeks a partner who thrives in the dance of words and wit. He’s fascinated by someone who can keep him guessing—playfully resistant to his charm and never predictable.

He’s drawn to people who’ve endured hardship and emerged stronger, finding common ground in shared trauma or survival instincts.

While Aventurine guards his vulnerability, he craves someone with the emotional intelligence to see past his bravado. Their ability to intuit his needs, even when unspoken, creates a sense of safety.

He admires a grounding presence—someone self-assured yet humble, who can counterbalance his more dramatic tendencies without overshadowing him.

Compatibility:

High-stakes situations invigorate him, so he appreciates a partner who thrives under pressure. Whether it’s in a game of strategy or a tense negotiation, he seeks someone who can match his composure and cunning.

Trust is a slow-burning process for Aventurine. His partner must be patient, willing to navigate his walls without forcing him to open up before he’s ready.

Dynamic:

Aventurine doesn’t just want a lover—he needs a partner-in-crime. Someone willing to embrace the thrill of calculated risks, whether it’s a dangerous gamble or a perfectly executed scheme.

They balance his indulgent tendencies, providing a steady hand when he flirts with self-destruction. Together, they form a dynamic duo—equal parts chaos and control.

Appearance:

Blade has little concern for traditional beauty, focusing instead on the feeling someone evokes. He’s drawn to understated traits that exude calm, mystery, or quiet strength.

A serene or enigmatic aura captivates him, especially in those who seem like they’ve weathered storms of their own. Scars or imperfections are less flaws and more badges of survival—silent testaments to a shared pain.

There’s a certain poetry in subtlety that Blade finds magnetic, such as the way someone carries themselves or a fleeting, knowing glance.

Personality:

Blade’s ideal partner must embody gentle resilience—a quiet strength that offers stability amidst his chaos. He’s not drawn to overt displays of power but rather to those who endure with grace.

His partner needs to respect his emotional distance and allow their bond to deepen organically. They provide solace through presence, not pressure.

Understanding his guilt and anger without pitying him is crucial. He needs someone who offers comfort without trying to “fix” him.

He admires individuals who remain true to themselves, even in the face of his volatility. Their grounded nature becomes his anchor.

Compatibility:

Blade struggles with verbal affection and grand gestures. His partner must value actions over words—small, meaningful gestures like a shared silence or a comforting touch.

Loyalty is paramount. Blade often tests boundaries, whether intentionally or not, and needs a partner who remains steadfast in their care.

Dynamic:

Blade seeks a relationship built on mutual protection. His ideal partner isn’t there to save him but to walk beside him as he confronts his demons.

Their love is a slow-burning fire, marked by quiet moments of vulnerability and unspoken understanding. They don’t demand his trust but earn it, piece by fractured piece.

Appearance:

Sunday gravitates toward those with an ethereal or graceful quality—a beauty that feels otherworldly yet grounded. He appreciates the quiet elegance that reflects his Halovian heritage.

Symbolic trinkets or meaningful accessories, like earrings or pendants, resonate deeply with him, mirroring his love for intricate details and subtle meaning.

Personality:

Sunday is drawn to those who counter his melancholic worldview with a hopeful, compassionate perspective. He needs someone who gently challenges his ideals without dismissing his emotions.

His partner must possess a quiet, unwavering self-confidence. They confront his twisted philosophies with patience and understanding, offering a grounding presence.

A partner with a playful streak appeals to him, especially when it contrasts with his solemn demeanor. Their lightheartedness reminds him of life’s simple joys.

Compatibility:

Sunday needs a partner who can understand his lofty ideals and gently challenge them, offering a grounded perspective that helps him reconcile his desire for a perfect world with the imperfections of reality. They should help him navigate his philosophical struggles without dismissing his emotions.

Sunday thrives in a relationship where emotional depth is paired with moments of lightness. His ideal partner balances serious conversations with a playful streak that brings joy and reminds him of life’s simple pleasures, helping him reconnect with spontaneous joy.

Trust is built slowly for Sunday, so his partner must be patient, allowing their bond to deepen organically. They should provide stability and comfort, supporting him as he works through his emotional walls and guiding him toward growth without forcing him to change before he’s ready.

Dynamic:

Sunday’s ideal relationship thrives on emotional intimacy. His partner navigates his philosophical struggles with care, providing warmth and optimism without trying to fix him.

They challenge his tendency to idealize perfection, helping him rediscover beauty in imperfection and spontaneity.

Appearance:

Boothill is drawn to raw, unrefined beauty—someone who’s lived and survived, marked by the stories their body tells. Scars, tattoos, and bold fashion choices are a reflection of resilience and adventure, and he admires individuals who wear their history as a badge of honor. He’s captivated by those who can rock vibrant, contrasting colors or mismatched styles with confidence, projecting a sense of strength and individuality.

He’s particularly fond of eyes that burn with fire and determination—eyes that match his intensity, yet hold a vulnerability only the right person can see. Confidence is key, but it’s that unpolished confidence, the kind that’s earned through hardship, that pulls him in.

Personality:

Boothill craves a partner who can match his fierce energy and boldness. He’s drawn to those who share his burning passion for justice and fighting for what’s right, even if it means breaking the rules. He admires fearless individuals who challenge authority and embrace a world of gray, not just black and white.

A sharp, witty partner who can banter with him is essential—they need to hold their ground in arguments, but still know how to make him laugh. Beneath his hard exterior, he secretly yearns for warmth and loyalty, someone who sees past his rough exterior and recognizes the vulnerabilities hidden underneath.

Patience is a challenge for him, but he seeks someone who can balance his impulsive nature, tempering his decisions with wisdom while never dulling his fire. The ideal partner doesn’t just soothe his rage—they fan the flames in the best way possible, stoking the fires of his passion and his purpose.

Compatibility:

Boothill’s partner would have to keep up with his relentless pace, matching him in the heat of battle as much as in life. They must be able to stand beside him during intense moments of action, yet offer solace and understanding in quieter, more reflective ones. His ideal relationship is built on equal footing—where passion and respect for one another fuel their connection.

Their dynamic would never be boring—full of challenges, shared adventures, and a fiery bond formed through trials, risks, and the occasional reckless decision. They would push each other toward greatness, not with soothing words, but through daring acts of loyalty and love.

Dynamic:

Boothill wants a relationship full of intensity, one where his partner isn’t afraid to stand by him, even if it means navigating chaos or defying the odds together.

This is not a relationship where either party is passive—it’s a partnership of equals, where each individual’s strength and spirit fuel the other. Their love would burn brightly, fueled by both passion and unshakable loyalty, with both of them walking side by side through any storm, ready to fight for each other and what they believe in.

Appearance:

Jing Yuan is drawn to elegance and grace—someone whose appearance radiates composure and quiet strength. He appreciates fine details and a refined aesthetic, as he values artistry in all aspects of life. A partner who can carry themselves with quiet dignity, with clothing that flows or intricate designs, would catch his attention.

However, while Jing Yuan admires serenity, he finds himself captivated by the unexpected spark in someone’s personality. A playful glint in the eye or a mischievous smile is enough to unsettle his calm demeanor, drawing him in even more. He appreciates someone who can maintain their elegance but isn’t afraid to reveal the more unpredictable, adventurous sides of themselves when the moment calls for it.

Personality:

Jing Yuan is in search of a partner who has a calm, patient demeanor—someone who understands the complexities of his strategic mind and the burdens he carries. His ideal partner is not only compassionate and wise, but also someone who can see the long-term view, matching his ability to think and plan for the future.

At the same time, he’s charmed by a partner who can bring a sense of spontaneity to his life. While he thrives on stability, he appreciates the occasional touch of unpredictability—someone who can light a fire under his more sedentary tendencies, adding a dash of excitement to the otherwise peaceful routines he enjoys. He values a balance of tranquility and energy, where his partner’s playfulness can bring joy without overwhelming him.

Compatibility:

Jing Yuan’s ideal partner would have the patience to stand by him through quiet moments of reflection, as well as the capacity to engage with him in deep, meaningful conversations. They would respect his thoughtful, strategic nature, while also encouraging him to take moments of respite, enjoying the beauty of life’s simpler pleasures together.

They would need to understand his need for a sense of long-term stability, yet not let him become too withdrawn or passive. A deep intellectual connection, rooted in shared wisdom and mutual understanding, would lay the foundation of their bond. Their connection would be built on the steady progression of trust and affection, growing subtly over time.

Dynamic:

Jing Yuan seeks a partner who can offer emotional intimacy without pressuring him for more than he’s ready to give. They’d share moments of serene companionship, where quiet silences are comfortable, and words aren’t necessary to convey their bond. However, his ideal partner wouldn’t shy away from challenging him, nudging him out of his intellectual ruts and helping him see the world in a new light.

The dynamic would be one of mutual respect, with his partner both grounding him and adding an unpredictable spark to his life. While he values peacefulness, he enjoys the occasional adventure or light-hearted moments that break through his more serious demeanor, reminding him that even in the pursuit of wisdom, life can be full of wonder.

P-please don't come after me...😭😕

553 notes · View notes

evnseokz · 27 days ago

Text

{ ☆ the power play ~ l.hs }

pairing: office rival! heeseung x f.reader

contents: pwp, office rivalry trope, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), pet names baby, sweetheart, cum eating, fingering, big dick! heeseung, dirty talk, cream pie, think that’s it

a.n: based off this request here! so sorry for how long this took!!! wc: 2.3k i’ve marked where the smut starts if anyone wants to skip the plot!

the rivalry between you and heeseung had grown so thick that even the slightest exchange felt like a battle for supremacy. it started innocently enough with a few competitive projects, but over time, it had turned into something almost corrosive. every conversation felt like a subtle game of one-upmanship, every meeting a battleground where the smallest mistake from one could send the other into a smug, quiet victory.

it all came to a head one monday morning during the weekly team meeting. the new project proposal was up for discussion, and everyone knew that whoever led it would have the best shot at the upcoming promotion. heeseung leaned back in his chair, a slight smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he presented his ideas. the room was silent as he spoke, confident and composed, like he had already claimed the role as the project's lead.

you sat across from him, arms crossed, waiting for your turn. it wasn’t that heeseung’s ideas were bad—they were, in fact, quite brilliant. but the way he presented them, as if they were the only option, the only way forward, grated on your nerves.

when it was your turn, you stood and cleared your throat, the quiet tension in the room only amplifying as you faced the team. "while heeseung’s idea is solid," you began, keeping your voice even but firm, "i think we’re missing something crucial. we can’t afford to rely on just one approach, especially when we haven’t even considered the long-term impact of some of these strategies."

heeseung’s eyes narrowed, and his mouth set into a thin line. he leaned forward, hands clasped on the table in front of him. "you’re suggesting we scrap the proposal entirely?" he asked, his tone deceptively calm but with an edge that couldn’t be ignored.

"no," you replied, your voice unwavering. "i’m suggesting we think bigger. diversify our strategies before we commit to anything. we can’t put all our eggs in one basket, especially not with this much at stake."

heeseung’s gaze flickered with frustration, but he kept his composure. "that’s a nice theory, y/n, but in reality, it’s impractical. you’re overcomplicating things. sometimes, a single focus is more effective."

"overcomplicating?" you shot back, your temper flaring slightly. "it’s called planning for every possibility, heeseung. not everyone is content with playing it safe and hoping it works out."

the room grew uncomfortable, the rest of the team shifting in their seats, but neither you nor heeseung looked away. the air crackled with a silent challenge, both of you unwilling to back down.

after a moment, heeseung finally broke the silence. "fine. we’ll see whose approach works out in the end, won’t we?" his tone was still controlled, but the undercurrent of rivalry was unmistakable. you didn’t flinch. "we will. and i’ll be ready when it does."

the rest of the meeting dragged on, but the rivalry was the only thing anyone could focus on. it was clear now: both you and heeseung were determined to outdo each other, not just professionally but personally. neither would back down. and as the weeks went on, the tension only deepened, fueling a silent war between you that made every interaction feel like a high-stakes gamble.

in the bustling, fluorescent-lit office, your eyes were fixed on the spreadsheet in front of you, but your mind kept drifting. every few seconds, you could feel heeseung's presence in the room, like an electric charge in the air. it wasn’t just the fact that he had a way of effortlessly drawing attention with his quiet charisma—no, this was something more. it was the tension, palpable and thick, that seemed to hang between you like a tightrope waiting to snap.

heeseung, sitting just a few desks away, was no less aware of it. his calm, collected demeanor couldn’t hide the flicker of competition in his eyes every time your paths crossed. a few months ago, he’d started as the golden boy—quick, efficient, charming, and always one step ahead. but you weren’t one to back down from a challenge, and ever since that first project where heeseung had stolen the spotlight, the rivalry between you had only grown more intense.

the stakes were high now. with the promotion looming over the department, both you and heeseung were scrambling to prove you were the one to lead the team into the next quarter. every glance, every subtle comment, was a silent battle for dominance, each trying to outdo the other without saying a word.

you could feel heeseung’s gaze on you again—this time not as a quiet observer, but as if he were assessing you, calculating. your pulse quickened. this wasn’t just business anymore. this was personal.

you shifted in your chair, trying to focus, but the weight of his stare was unbearable. you had to do something. your mind raced, trying to push past the tension that wrapped itself around every thought. the idea of him constantly one-upping you, trying to assert his dominance—it made your blood boil.

but then, there was something else—something that you couldn’t ignore. a part of you that wasn’t just fighting for the promotion anymore. a part of you that felt a strange, undeniable pull toward him, something that went beyond rivalry.

you glanced up and caught heeseung’s eyes. this time, the challenge was different. it wasn’t just professional; it was something more raw. the silence between you deepened, and in that moment, everything else in the office disappeared. the hum of the fluorescent lights, the tapping of keyboards—it all faded away.

you stood up abruptly, unable to sit still any longer. heeseung didn’t move, but his eyes never left yours, the intensity of his gaze heightening as you took a few steps closer. the air between you felt charged, thick with all the words you hadn’t said, the emotions you hadn’t acknowledged.

you stopped a few feet away from him, your heart pounding in your chest. the office felt suffocating, but strangely electric, as if the universe had decided it was time for this standoff to come to a head.

“you know,” you said, your voice low, but the challenge still clear, “i could beat you at this.”

heeseung’s lips curled into that smirk of his—the one that always made you want to wipe it off his face. he leaned forward slightly, his voice almost a whisper. “you think so?”

before you could respond, he stood too. the movement was quick but calculated. he took a step toward you, his body closing the distance between you until there was nothing but the slightest breath of space separating you. his presence overwhelmed you, a mix of intensity and something else—something that made your thoughts scatter, your breath catch.

you swallowed hard, unsure of what came next, but before you could even think about it, heeseung’s hand reached up, brushing against your cheek in a gesture that was at once soft and daring. your pulse skipped. his touch was gentle, but the way he looked at you, like he was waiting for you to make the first move, made everything inside you tense.

then, almost as if the universe itself had decided you both were done with pretending, heeseung leaned in.

his lips brushed yours—barely a touch, but enough to send a rush of heat through your entire body. you froze, heart racing, not sure whether to pull away or lean in. but before you could make that decision, he kissed you again, this time more firmly, his lips moving against yours with a quiet, relentless urgency.

for a moment, all the tension, all the rivalry, all the years of fighting for dominance seemed to disappear. in its place was something that felt wild, untamed, and raw.

you kissed him back, unable to fight it any longer. the world outside the office—the promotion, the competition, the rivalry—vanished. all that mattered in that moment was the taste of him, the electric pull between you.

{smut starts here}

the kiss deepened quickly, his tongue swiping your bottom lip for entry, which you grant. your hands trailed up his shoulders to around his neck, his traveling to your waist, gripping tightly. before you could react, heeseung lifted you and placed you on the edge of the desk, knocking things over in the process but not even sparing them a second glance.

your hands moved down to his tie, gripping it harshly while pulling him even closer to you. his hands rested on your thighs, fiddling with the seam of the tight pencil skirt you wore that drove him crazy. hugging your curves in all the right places. his fingers slipped underneath, pushing the skirt up and bunching it around your waist. your tights came next, him pulling them down to pool around your ankles. at this point, you have broken the kiss to quickly get him undressed.

you let go of his tie to help his shrug his blazer off his shoulders, your hands dipping down to his belt next, unbuckling it frantically before tossing it to the side. his pants were next; he took over unbuttoning them as you reached inside his boxers to rub his length. fuck he felt so big in your hand. his body shuddered at your touch, sweat already starting to pool at his temples. he removed your hand from his pants. guiding your arms around his neck again.

“hold on for me, sweetheart,” he cooed into your ear, his breath fanning your skin, making you shiver. you nod eagerly as his hands make their way to your dripping pussy. his fingers press against your clothed heat, and your body jolts slightly. “you’re so wet already,” he smirked to himself as he spoke. “you’ve wanted this, haven't you? wanted me all over you? inside you?” he purred into your ear cockily. you couldn’t even bring yourself to roll your eyes, too desperate to have him inside you.

“please, heeseung, just do something!” you whine, your usual competitive self, not even desiring to argue with him. he chuckles at your eagerness; not wasting any more time, he pushes your panties to the side before plunging two fingers inside you without warning. your chest heaves as your back arches, a loud moan falling from your lips. all that can be heard in the quiet office is the squelching of his fingers pumping in and out of you at a brutal pace.

“think you can take three? hm?” he challenges. “y-yes! please!” you cry out; he quickly adds in a third finger, the obscene noises becoming even louder as your slick makes a mess of his fingers and the desk beneath you. your body is shaking at this point, and he hasn’t even put his cock in you yet. you feel yourself begin to unravel, the knot in your stomach tightening. “close!” you cry out, gripping heeseung’s neck for dear life as you prepare for your orgasm to wash over you.

but as soon as you feel it coming, heeseung removes his fingers from you entirely, making you whine at the loss of stimulation. he brings his fingers up to his mouth, licking and sucking them clean before digging his cock out of his unbuttoned pants. your eyes gawk at the sight in front of you. this was the biggest dick you had ever seen. fuck, you weren’t sure if you could take it. heeseung chuckled at your reaction; he was used to it; he knew he was larger than most.

he stroked himself a couple of times before lining himself up with your entrance. your breath hitched in your throat as you felt his thick tip prod against your entrance, your body still shaking from the letdown of your previous orgasm. slowly, he pushed the tip inside you, your fingers raked down his back, his thick cock stretching you the most you’ve ever been stretched. he pushes further inside of you, about halfway, and you feel like you’re being split open.

“f-fuck! you’re so big,” you moan, your chest heaving as you try to adjust to his size. “just a little more. you can take a little more, can't you?” he coos as he tucks a stray hair behind your ear, caressing your cheek lovingly. you nod slowly, preparing for the final stretch. in one swift motion, heeseung bottoms out completely inside you, his tip poking your cervix. your head is thrown back, your lip is between your teeth.

heeseung stays still inside you for a moment before rocking his hips slowly against yours. quiet pants fall from your lips as he picks up the pace; one hand is holding your waist, the other is bringing your face back towards him as he kisses you feverishly, lips molding against each other perfectly in sync.

his cock drags through your walls, finally maintaining a steady pace as he stretches out your tight cunt. small grunts land against your lips as he kisses you, your arms tightening around him to bring him closer. you want to be inside his skin at this point. he pulls away from the kiss. “relax, i’m not going anywhere, baby.”

his kisses the corner of your lips before trailing down your jaw and neck, sucking lightly in some places. the combination of his lips on your skin and his thick cock inside you driving you to your previously denied orgasm almost immediately. “c-cumming!” you moaned out as your body shook, your legs trembling as your hips bucked. “fuck!” heeseung hissed as your cunt clenched around him, sucking him in and keeping him there until you milked him for all he’s worth. his load shooting deep inside of you as his thrusts became lazy and slow.

he pulls out of you, his cum dripping out of your sopping hole, and heeseung is quick to react. taking his fingers and scooping his cum back into your pussy before moving your panties back into place, pulling up your tights, and pulling down your skirt before helping you up and off the desk. he puts himself back in order as well before leaning back down to look at you.

“finish your work for the night with my cum sitting inside you, and we’ll see what else i can do for you later.”

…

507 notes · View notes

lumiambrose · 3 months ago

Text

✰ the winning hand

kinktober 24 - day twelve

featuring: aventurine x f!reader

summary: you were taken by surprise when the aventurine of the ten stonehearts requests a private match from you. although, a gamble with him requires high stakes, and even higher rewards.

tags: smut, gambling, praise, degredation (if you reaaally squint), p in v, cunnilingus, use of sex toys, public sex, petnames (sweet girl, pretty, doll), not proofread (i drank too much last night mb fam)

wc: 2.2k

“so the winner of this next round takes all?” you clarify, unsure if the man in front of you has gone insane.

“spot on, pretty. if you win, i’ll be your loyal servant for the rest of the night. although if i win… you’ll be mine.” yeah. he’s lost it.

you’re currently in a private sector for the eclipse’s executives. it’s slightly elevated from the rest of the floor, almost like a private balcony with a gorgeous view of the grand casino. how you ended up here? you don’t even know. you were sipping on a sweet cocktail when aventurine, one of the ten stonehearts, requested a game from you. his assistant didn’t give you time to react as he led you away from the central casino and toward a far more private, lavish, hall.

ever the gentleman he is, aventurine picked you up there and stole you away to the balcony you now find yourself at. seeing as it was too late to decline, you figured you should get the most out of this experience as he explained the rules to you.

a standard game of poker shouldn’t be too hard, right? is what you tell yourself, despite struggling immensely against the man in front of you. you’ve only won… twice? out of the many rounds you’ve played and you’re getting worried, you can’t keep losing like this. almost on cue, aventurine suggests one final round to decide the winner, which is how you’ve ended up in your current predicament.

you eye the cards in your hand, desperately trying to keep your expression neutral. aventurine lounges across from you, one arm draped over the back of the sofa, his other hand casually toying with his chips. he’s confident. too confident.

“ready, pretty?” he’s teasing you at this point. the dealer, not making a sound, reshuffles the cards before sliding them your way. you glance at your hand and immediately regret your decision, but you don’t lose hope just yet.

the dealer reveals the first three cards on the table: jack of diamonds, queen of clubs, seven of spades. your stomach drops. aventurine smirks. it’s over.

with a hand like this, you shouldn’t even bet, but you go all in anyway, hoping the bluff works. of course, it doesn’t. he meets your bet, then raises.

the final card flips. king of hearts.

aventurine reveals his hand—ace and ten.

a straight.

you blink, stunned. aventurine leans forward, that damn smirk widening, “looks like you’re mine now.”

this was it, your fate had been sealed. only god knows what this man has planned for you. you let out a long sigh, accepting your defeat before locking eyes with him, waiting for his orders.

with a quick snap of his fingers, the dealer leaves the room, disappearing through the door without a word. “stand up,” you oblige, adjusting your short dress and hair as you rise from your chair, facing him. he does a one-over on your body, taking in every inch and curve, staring like a starved man.

the room suddenly feels much smaller as you’re left in aventurine’s company. he’s still lounging on the sofa before you, but this time, a more terrifying aura radiates from him.

his next command is simple. with a predatory smile and commanding tone, he orders, “your panties, take them off.”

for a second, you thought you didn’t hear him right. you hesitate for a moment, but the look in his eyes leaves no room for argument. slowly, you reach through your skirt, your hands trembling slightly as you hook your thumbs into the waistband of your panties and push them down.

he holds out his hands, glancing at the panties before his gaze shifts back to you. you hand them to him as a blush creeps up your cheeks. his hand grazes yours as he takes them from you, stuffing them into his pocket with a victorious smile playing on his lips.

“oh, one more thing,” he reaches over to a small box resting on the table, opening it and taking out a small vibrator. “you’re a smart girl so i’m sure you understand what i’m getting at. if you manage a few games without cumming, i might even reward you,” he coos. “you like the sound of that, doll?”

even if you wanted to refuse, you know you couldn’t. begrudgingly, you put the vibrator in your, now naked, pussy, letting out a soft sigh as it enters you. as much as you should be disgusted right now, you’re filled with nothing but adrenaline facing the man in front of you. the fear that you once had now slowly turning into excitement.

he sets up the next round of poker, shuffling a new deck of cards and sliding some your way. “no need to bet with chips anymore, if you manage to win as much as one game, i’ll make sure you’re cumming on me tonight.” his voice suddenly shifts into a darker tone “although, if you fail… we’ll keep up this little game of ours until you're begging on your knees for me.”

the hums of the vibrator fill the room as he turns it on from the small remote in his hand. any fear you should’ve felt from his threat going straight to your core, letting out a small moan at the danger.

the next few hours we’re nothing but agonising pain. you played his cruel game, as he abused the power he had over you, making you crumble for him. you were close? too damn bad, he turned the vibrator off, leaving you whimpering in agony. you tried bluffing? he saw right through it and set the vibrator to pulse inside of you, only switching it back to normal once you confessed your lie. sometimes you’d even be so distracted by the sweet pleasure between your thighs that your hand would accidentally slip, giving aventurine a complete view of your cards. but lady luck was on your side today as somehow, somehow, you beat him. maybe he let you and you didn’t notice as you were too distracted by the vibrating pleasure or perhaps you just got lucky. either way, you celebrated your victory, excited for what came ahead.

“congratulations, sweetheart,” he leaves the sofa for the first time tonight, slowly approaching you. “i’m a man of my word,” he kneels in front of you, pushing your legs apart. “i won’t stop until you’re cumming all over my tongue.”

without any further warning, he removes the vibrator, leaving you empty, only to replace it with his tongue.

he eats you out like it’s his last day alive. sucking, biting and slurping on your pussy. “so good,” he muffles, “you taste so fucking good.”

he continues to lap your folds, stuffing your cunt with his tongue and sometimes nibbling on your clit. he’s so shameless too, not attempting to hide any noises he makes while drinking you up. the longer he eats you out, the more dissolved his words get. filthy encouragements and teasing praises slowly turning into incoherent babbles, growling against your cunt. each vibration going straight toward your impending orgasm.

“you close, pretty? can feel you shaking around my tongue,” he says with one last lick on your folds before you come undone all over his face. your orgasm hits you like a wave, your juices crashing down on aventurine’s mouth.

he pulls back, slowly rising from his knees. “fuck– you taste divine,” he licks any excess juices from his face, “could eat this pretty pussy every day.” he grabs your hand, pulling you up from your chair and bringing you to the sofa he was once lounging on, “but that wouldn’t be any fun now, would it?” he bends you over with your back to the casino table, giving you a perfect view of the central casino.

“try not to attract too much attention, sweet girl.” with that, he hikes up your tiny dress and enters you in one slow, painful thrust. you moan at the sensation, definitely attracting a few curious eyes from below, but you’re in to deep to care anymore. he lets out a sigh of relief as he bottoms out, feeling your tight cunt already squeezing him.

“hah– so tight f’me,” he started to rock into you at a slow pace, taking his sweet time destroying you. as much as he desperately wanted to give into his primal urges, rutting into like there’s no tomorrow, he wanted to keep his promise. he wanted you to completely come apart on his dick, turning you into his little fucked-out doll. his one hand rest on your hip, keeping him steady as he moves inside you while the other snakes its way down to your clit, teasing your overstimulated bud.

the pleasure is overwhelming, leading you closer to your orgasm by the second, moaning out praises for the blonde behind you. “aah~ so good– i’m so close!” you can barely get the words out, but once you do, he can’t hold back anymore. “gonna make a mess on my dick, pretty?” he speeds up, thrusting at a faster pace, fingers working harder too.

“you close, doll?” he vibrates against your ear, “that’s my good girl… go on, cum on my dick, make a mess for me.”

that was all it took to push you over the edge, you clenched him tightly as your second orgasm hit you. moaning out his name as you gripped the balcony railing, letting yourself come undone for him. it didn’t take him long until he was also reaching his high, swiftly pulling out and releasing his cum all over your ass and back, staining your dress.

after he releases his grasp on you, you collapse on the sofa, breathless and still sensitive from the little game you both played. he takes his place next to you, moving your legs to rest on his lap. “looks like your dress is stained,” he traces a line down your leg. “give me your number. i’ll arrange a replacement.”

after exchanging numbers, you clean yourself up as much as possible before heading to the exit.

“oh, and sweetheart,” he calls out to you before you can leave. “call me when you want your rematch.”

taglist: @ryescapades @iamjellyfish @143-ilyuu @maruflix @pixelcafe-network

©lumis kinktober 24' ─ do not translate, repost, copy any of my works

#✰ ─ the devils month #ambrose.fics #kinktober #kinktober 2024 #hsr smut #hsr x reader smut #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x reader smut #honkai star rail smut #aventurine smut #aventurine x reader #aventurine x reader smut #aventurine hsr #aventurine x reader

559 notes · View notes

anthurak · 1 year ago

Text

So with everything we learned and saw in Episode 4 from Angel, Valentino, Charlie and Husk, here’s a little theory on how the Hotel crew saving Angel from Valentino might play out. Particularly in how Husk’s status as a former Overlord may factor into things.

Because I have a hunch it’s actually going to be Husk, rather than Charlie who gets fed up first and goes out to make a real attempt at getting Angel away from Valentino, given everything we saw between Husk and Angel in this episode. Specifically, Husk aims to lure Valentino into gambling for Angel’s contract.

Now that raises the question of what exactly Husk could gamble with. I see two possibilities:

Option One, Husk full on bluffs Valentino that he still has substantial power as an Overlord and has been hiding it all this time, tempting him with more souls and power. And as we’ve seen most notably in Episode 2, Val in kind of a massive fucking idiot, so I could see him actually falling for this. Essentially, Husk gambles with nothing, save his own soul, for a chance to save Angel.

Option Two, Husk actually gets his power BACK from Alastor. Specifically through fulfilling some mysterious, nebulous condition Alastor set up for him. It could even be that this is what sets up Husk to gamble Val for Angel’s freedom. Alastor returns Husk’s power as an Overlord because he’s curious as to what Husk will do with it now. Which we see, is putting it all on the line again for a chance to save Angel.

Whichever way we get to it, we find Husk in a high-stakes card game with Valentino. And of course, Husk does the classic trope of NOT telling his friends or even the guy he’s doing this for what he’s doing to ‘keep them safe’ and all that. Of course, they do find out. Which will come into play later…

As for the all-important gamble; Husk actually does WIN legitimately against Valentino. However, because Valentino is… well, Valentino he welches on the deal and attacks Husk, and perhaps a recently arrived Angel as well.

Now in the event that Husk was bluffing Valentino the whole time and is actually helpless against a fully-powered Overlord, this would be when Alastor, from afar, actually returns Husk’s own power as an Overlord as some offhand, magnanimous whim. Which of course now allows Husk to actually fight back against Valentino.

What ensues is a full and proper fight between Husk/Angel and Valentino, with all the requisite emotional drama of Angel and Husk admitting their feelings for each other and all of Valentino’s shittiness as a person coming out in force. Maybe like an mlm version of the Bees vs. Adam fight.

However, despite getting his power as an Overlord back, Husk ultimately turns out to not be as powerful as Valentino. Alternatively, perhaps he never gets his power back at all and we just skip to here from Husk winning the bet. Whichever way we get here, Husk and Angel are now at the non-existent mercy of Valentino.

Which is precisely when CHARLIE shows up.

And I imagine what ensues plays out in a flash. Like everyone is only just registering that Charlie has appeared when suddenly everything is on fire. We get only the briefest glimpses, perhaps only in silhouette, of the full-sized horns on Charlie’s head, the great leathery wings coming out of her back and the pitchfork in her hand before she has Valentino by the throat and the mothman starts BURNING, screaming in pain as he is consumed in hellfire.

Basically, I feel that after this episode we are going to see Husk be the one to step up first to try and save Angel from Valentino, given everything we saw between the pair this episode. But at the same time, I think the interactions between Charlie and Valentino, particularly Charlie starting to transform in rage, sets her up as the one who’s going to ultimately put Val down. Specifically via giving us a glimpse at Charlie’s true power.

And I do say glimpse because I imagine the full and proper reveal of Charlie’s ‘Devil Form’ is almost certainly going to be saved for when she’s forced to take on the likes of Adam and the Exorcists, the ones who have been set-up as proper antagonists to Charlie herself.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin theory #hazbin rambling #angel dust #hazbin husk #huskerdust #husk #hazbin valentino #charlie morningstar #devil!charlie #how valentino dies a horrible painful death theory

1K notes · View notes

insertdisc5 · 4 days ago

Text

✨COOL THINGS I PLAYED/SAW/READ THIS YEAR, 2024!!!!!!!✨

✨MOVIS✨

Knight of Fortune was such a delight. karl's wife is dead-- he has to go to the morgue. to see her one last time. SURPRISINGLY funny given the theme, and incredibly sweet. AND you can watch it in its entirety on youtube

youtube

american fiction! incredible movie that made me think. what does it mean to tell "our stories"? what does it mean to show "representation"? how authentic can you truly be about your own lived experience? funny as hell too

youtube

if you havent seen Monkey Man, quite frankly i dont want to talk to you. dev patel i will watch whatever you make for the rest of time

youtube

the rest under the cut because this list got long

playtime by jacques tati. just slapstick. oh my god this was so goddamn funny

youtube

yeah you know it. i was very strong the whole time and then the credits hit and i started sobbing uncontrollably in the theater

youtube

challengers and i saw the tv glow are tied in first place for my favorite movie this year. incredibly funny and SO WELL EDITED. highly recommend watching it with friends so you can scream "OH NO HE DIDN'T" together

youtube

✨TV SHOWS✨

SHOGUN!!!!!! oh my god there is so much to praise in this show. the costumes! the actors! the story! how they integrated both english and japanese speakers in a realistic way! so good

youtube

korean reality shows are not fucking playing around. the editing and sets are truly top notch

youtube

✨BUUKS✨

-Friday Black by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah! what if black mirror was actually good. AND centered the stories of black people. highly recommend

-Character Limit: How Elon Musk Destroyed Twitter by Kate Conger and Ryan Mac! you probably were on twitter when The Whole Thing happened. maybe you dont know the exact details like i do. what if the details were worse i also dont read non-fiction very often, surprised at how fun this was to read!

-The Chromatic Fantasy by H.A.! I've been following their work since forever, and this was a delight to read as always! THE COLORS…………. BITES BITES BITES BITES

-sad girl space lizard. hell yeah (18+ only!)

-Gritli - The Moth Diaries by Sophie Florian und Hanako Emden! this one was just so strange and fascinating. per words of the authors: "Taking on the voices of anthropomorphic animals, the authors write about labour, companionship and crushing."

✨VIDY GAMES✨

skipping balatro, splatoon side order, fields of mistria and webfishing, because you probably know about those. uuuuh

i am too stupid for Void Stranger, but My God if you're smart this game will become your favorite game ever. 2D sokoban with so many secrets

marchen line!!! nth circle never misses. the visuals here are so fun!!! the UI! the plot! the almost-automatic-censoring when you see gore, as if your mecha body took a second to load!! hell fucking yeah

"adrienne, of the devil was this year" OH WORD? THEN EVERYONE SHOULD PLAY OF THE DEVIL'S FIRST EPISODE WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR

life after magic! magical girls are now adults, and magic is disappearing. what now? the art is so cute, and the story was very engaging. thank you for the additional episode with [spoilers]

i started nine sols and i think i might be enough of a gamer to beat it

shadow generations game of the year no contest. thank you for your time

you can also look at my massive list of stuff i played/watched/etc here. i am not posting this whole dang thing

#recs #Youtube

277 notes · View notes

hhghgt · 11 days ago

Text

undercover agents Buck & Eddie

Buck and Eddie were undercover agents on a high-stakes mission, tasked with infiltrating a covert arms deal. Forced to work together despite their clashing personalities, they spent most of their time snapping at each other. The mission had been a disaster, a whirlwind of close calls and chaos, leaving them both battered and bruised but somehow alive. Back at the safe house, the adrenaline still coursed through their veins, making the air between them feel volatile, ready to ignite.

Buck leaned against the wall, trying to catch his breath, while Eddie paced across the room like a restless predator, his jaw tight, fists clenching and unclenching as if trying to contain the storm inside him.

“You think you’re some kind of hero, don’t you?” Eddie snapped, his voice razor-sharp, slicing through the tension like a blade.

Buck straightened, his eyes narrowing as he met Eddie’s glare. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Eddie stopped pacing abruptly, pivoting to face him, his expression a mix of anger and exasperation. “do you even think! You just dive in headfirst. You treat every mission like a damn game of chicken.”

Buck bristled, crossing his arms defensively. “I didn’t hear you complaining when it worked,” he shot back, his tone defiant.

Eddie took a step closer, his movements deliberate and charged. “Worked? You made yourself a target! You nearly got yourself killed! You don’t get to gamble with your life like that—not when other people are counting on you.”

The accusation hit Buck like a punch to the gut, but he refused to show it. Instead, he pushed off the wall, his voice rising to match Eddie’s. “What’s your problem, huh? You were fine. I made sure of it. You think I don’t know what I’m doing?”

He added with a forced smirk. “You think you know me, Eddie? You don’t.”

Eddie’s eyes darkened, and in a flash, he grabbed Buck by the front of his shirt, slamming him back against the wall with a force that rattled the room. The air left Buck’s lungs in a grunt, and for a moment, he was too stunned to respond.

“This isn’t a joke, Buck!” Eddie shouted, his voice raw with emotion. His face was inches from Buck’s, his eyes blazing with fury, but beneath the anger was something deeper—fear. “Do you even care that you almost died tonight? Or are you so damn selfish you don’t think about the people who’d have to live without you?”

The words hit harder than Buck expected, cutting through his defenses. He froze, his gaze dropping. “As if there’s anyone who would care,” he muttered, his voice quieter now, almost broken. “But I couldn’t let you get hurt. You’ve got Christopher. You’ve got people who love you. I don’t have that.”

Eddie’s grip on Buck’s shirt loosened, his anger giving way to shock. The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of Buck’s confession hanging between them like a storm cloud.

“You’re not invincible, Buck,” Eddie said at last, his voice trembling as he lifted Buck’s chin, forcing him to meet his gaze. “And I can’t—I won’t—keep watching you destroy yourself like this.”

Buck swallowed hard, his throat tightening with unspoken words. “Eddie…” he started, his voice softer now, hesitant. “It’s fine. You don’t have to act like you care. I know you hate my guts.”

Eddie let out a bitter, humorless laugh, stepping back as if burned. “Hate you?” he repeated, running a hand through his hair. “If I hated you, I wouldn’t be standing here, yelling at you for almost getting yourself killed. You think I enjoy this? That I don’t care?”

Buck stayed against the wall, his heart hammering in his chest. There was something raw and unguarded in Eddie’s voice that left him speechless.

“Just… stop being so reckless,” Eddie muttered, his tone strained and quiet now. He turned away, his shoulders tense, refusing to look at Buck. “Because I can’t—” His voice cracked, and he exhaled sharply. “I can’t lose you.”

The vulnerability in Eddie’s words left Buck reeling. He stayed where he was, his breath shallow, the weight of everything sinking in. For the first time in a long time, Buck didn’t have a clever retort, didn’t have the words to fill the silence.

And for once, the silence didn’t feel like something he needed to fix. It felt like something they both needed to understand.

#911 abc #eddie diaz #buddie #evan buckley #buddie au #911edit #911 au #buddie fic #buddie edit #911 fic

133 notes · View notes

whxtedreams · 4 months ago

Text

Familiar yet Foreign

A Din Djarin x f!reader oneshot

Summary: In the depths of Canto Bight, you find something you thought you lost; his trust.

Written for @burntheedges roll-a-trope challenge - my trope was fake dating/marriage.

Word Count: 3.7k

Tags: fake marriage, untrustworthy reader, mentions of past injury, one bed hehe, protective!din, unwanted male attention, fear of loss, handcuffs, thief!reader.

Main masterlist - series masterlist

Canto Bight, the infamous, glitzy gambling hub, was a paradox.

On one hand, it was no place for a thief like you. With security cameras, guards and wealthy patrons on high alert.

On the other hand, the place was ripe for a skilled crook like yourself. With the promise of hefty winnings on the casino floors and in private games, temptation was everywhere. The dimly lit alleys and extravagant parties provided perfect cover for those with the expertise and daring to take advantage of the high-stakes environment.

In a way, Canto Bight was both forbidden territory and an opportunity waiting to be seized.

The only problem was you had made a promise to the Mandalorian you were traveling with.

The Mandalorian, or rather, Mando, had stood in front of you where he had sat you on a crate on his ship earlier that day. His arms crossed over his chest. The glare you knew he gave you, hidden behind the helmet.

"Listen," he said, "you're going to sit here and you're going to stay out of my way. You're not going to cause any trouble, not going to bring any attention to yourself. You're going to stay right here. Got it?" His voice was cold and unwavering and his stance made it clear that the matter was non-negotiable.

You had waited ten minutes after he left before you left.

There was too much to see and steal after all.

The city was a sprawling, pulsating beast by night. The dimly lit alleyways and shadowy rooftops were your playground as you navigated discreetly through the city. You moved like a ghost, flitting from one venue to another. From the lavish cantinas to the high-rolling casinos. Your fingers were nimble and sure, plucking riches from the hands of the wealthy as easily as if they were picking ripe fruit.

You had missed this, the thrill and adrenaline of a thief's life.

Mando was like a jailer recently, keeping you caged on his ship. He had refused to let you leave for months. The reason was clear - your error. It wasn't just a simple slip-up; it had led to an injury that had stained both Mando’s and your hands with your own blood. It had caused the bounty hunter's protective instincts to kick in. He was determined to keep you under his watchful eye, his actions both a punishment and a precaution. The atmosphere on the ship had turned heavy with tension, the silence broken only by the hum of the engines and the occasional sigh or muttered curse from the stoic warrior.

He used to talk to you, used to seek out your company.

It had been months since a conversation lasted more than five seconds.

You felt so lonely.

The air of Canto Bight was like a drug, a potent mix of excitement, opulence, and thrill. It was just what you had been craving. The atmosphere was electric, the glitz and glamor everywhere you looked. The streets were filled with people eager to gamble, party, and seek out adventure. The promise of a good time and the chance to escape your mind was intoxicating and you found yourself drawn in like an Alderaan furry moth to a flame.

You were navigating the cramped, labyrinthine ventilation shafts as you tried to avoid detection of the guards. They had thrown you into the trash filled back alley as you tried to enter the high states casino. It was a risky move, but you had done it many times before.

You were skilled at getting into places you shouldn’t be in after all.

However, this time, your luck ran out the moment you crawled out of the vent and made a turn into a narrow corridor. Unknown to you, the hallway was not empty. You turned the corner and head butted into a solid, metallic surface. As you looked up, blinking in surprise, you realized with a pang of dread that you had head butted Beskar.

Mando.

Shit.

"I can explain," you said. The words tumbled from your mouth in a rush as Mando’s gloved hand grabbed hold of your wrist.

“We can talk about that later. I need you.” He said.

You trailed behind Mando, your footsteps echoed softly in the dimly lit corridors. The music from the cantina below was a distant, booming pulse. Its sound muffled by the thick walls but still strong enough to fill the air. The occasional glimpses of flashing lights spilled out through the doors you passed and it painted the floors in a deep purple hue, providing the only source of illumination in the otherwise dark and ominous hallway. You could feel the tension in the air and the Mandalorian's steps ahead of you seemed purposeful.

Mando came to a sudden halt in front of a guard that stood in front of large golden double doors. His hand that had been grasping your wrist just moments before moved to rest on your spine. You felt a slight pressure, a silent command to stay put. You looked up at Mando, confusion and curiosity in your eyes as you tried to puzzle out his actions.

“Mywife,” Mando said.

His what?

Before you could open your mouth to voice your confusion, Mando’s hand gave a sharp tug at your shirt and pulled you against his chest. The sudden movement caught you off guard and you stumbled into him, your back now pressed firmly against the cool Beskar. The question that had been forming on your lips died on your tongue as you felt the solid presence of the warrior behind you.

The guard looked you over, his expression skeptical as he took in your bewildered face. He raised an eyebrow and directed his attention back to Mando, his tone unimpressed. "You sure about that?" he said.

“It’s new,” Mando replied.

“Very new,” you said.

Your gaze shifted from the guard's face, which was locked in an intense, one-sided staring contest with the Beskar helmet behind you. To your left, a framed sign on the wall caught your eye. It was a gaudy, overblown declaration advertising a casino room beyond was open to married couples only.

Oh.

“My wife and I would like to play Sabacc. Now.”

The guard sighed.

“Fine, but one wrong move and I will throw you out. Mandalorian or not.” The guard grumbled as he opened the door for you to step through.

Mando steered you through the threshold of the doors and into the crowded, lively room beyond. Round tables were strategically placed throughout the space, each occupied by couples absorbed in either their game or live Fathier Racing holograms. Groups of people roamed the floor as they moved from table to table, eagerly watching the games and races unfold. Along the walls, secluded booths provided intimate spaces for groups of people, their conversations hidden behind the low, padded barriers. The air was thick with tension and excitement. The hum of chatter and the clink of credits filled your ears.

Credits to steal.

“I can feel your fingers twitching.” Mando said.

You stole a glance at Mando. His helmet faced away from you as he scanned the room. His gaze moved from table to table, taking in every detail just as you had but for an entirely different reason. His hand was still pressed firmly against your back, its weight a constant reminder of his presence. It was familiar yet foreign. You could feel the slight tension in his touch, the subtle way his fingers pressed through the fabric of your shirt. A silent signal for you to stay close.

You clenched your fists tightly, the action a meager attempt to control the tension that coursed through your body. Your fingers dug into your palms as Mando turned his helmet to look down at you. You could feel the weight of his gaze bearing down on you, even through the visor of his helmet. You took a deep, steadying breath, maintaining the neutral expression on your face despite the hammering of your heart against your ribcage.

"Are you going to behave?" The low hum of his voice behind the modulator sent a shiver down your spine as he spoke. You swallowed hard, struggling to find your voice as you nodded stiffly in response.

“Always.”

He scoffed; the sound muffled through the modulator in his helmet. His hand tightened in your shirt as he gripped the fabric firmly.

“I don’t need a repeat of last time.”

Despite the gruff and frustrated tone in his voice, there was a hint of gentleness in the way this hand smoothed the fabric of your shirt, his touch surprisingly careful. With his guidance, he led you to an empty booth at the back of the room. The dim lighting provided a secluded area away from the main gambling tables. You could sense the tension in his stance, the controlled strength and power coiled beneath his armor. As he motioned for you to sit, his presence loomed over you like a shadow.

As you settled yourself on the cold metal bench of the booth, Mando’s voice cut through the hum of the casino. "If I tell you to stay, will you?" His visor was trained on you, the purple dim lights above the booth casted shadows across his already intimidating visage.

You nodded.

He shifted his weight and rested his hands on his hips. He then cocked his head to the side, his gaze locked onto you. He exhaled, the sound a deep, mechanical huff, as if he were gathering his thoughts or summoning some inner strength.

With a swift, practiced movement, Mando unclipped a pair of cuffs and secured one around your wrist. You felt the cold metal pinch against your skin, the sound of the click as the cuff locked into place. Without a second thought, he attached the other cuff to the heavy table leg, effectively tethering you to the booth.

“You understand why I don’t trust you?”

You nodded again.

Because you do. You really do.

Once you were secured to the booth, Mando leaned in close. The cold, hard surface of his helmet mere inches from your face. In a low, firm voice, he informed you that he would return once he had acquired the information he needed or captured the bounty he was hunting. The weight of his words and the situation's gravity settled over you like a leaden blanket as he took a step back, his figure disappearing into the crowd of gamblers.

So, there you sat, bound to the booth. The minutes ticked by with agonizing slowness. You could have easily slipped free the cuffs and you knew Mando was aware of this fact as well. This waiting game was a test, a trial to see if you could be trusted again. If you had the discipline and restraint to stay put despite the temptation to flee.

You waited for him.

Around the two hour mark a burly Weequay pushed his way into the booth beside you. The weight of his body caused the metal bench to creak and groan under his weight. He settled into the space with a smirk, his eyes scanned you up and down with a leery gaze.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” you said.

"You here all alone?” The Weequay leaned back, his arm slid over the back of the booth and came to rest behind you with a casual familiarity that immediately set your nerves on edge. He chuckled softly as his eyes lingered on your bound wrist. “And handcuffed?” His other hand reached for your bound wrist.

Just as you were about to snap a retort at the Weequay, a deep shadow fell over the booth. Your eyes instinctively lifted to find the source. In front of you stood the imposing figure of the Mandalorian, every inch of his body radiated tension and anger. His hands were clenched tightly by his sides, his stance wide and aggressive, as if he was barely holding himself back.

The Weequay's face twisted into a frown as he turned around, his gaze locked onto the imposing figure behind him. The cocky expression fell from his face and he visibly tensed, his body jolted in surprise at the sight of the armored warrior. He swallowed hard; his confidence vanished like smoke in the wind.

"If you want to leave with your hand attached," he stated, each word punctuated clearly, "I suggest you take your hand off my wife." Mando's voice was as cold and hard as the Beskar he wore, the threat in his words clear and unequivocal.

The Weequay's eyes widened in surprise at the term "my wife," and his head whipped over to look at you. He stuttered over his words, his eyes darted between you and the Mandalorian. He hastily slid out of the booth; his apologies spilled out of his mouth in a rush as he took in the sight of the furious Mandalorian towered over him. In a heartbeat, he turned on his heel and scurried away, disappearing into the crowd.

The moment he left; you could see the tension in Mando’s shoulders relax. In his hand was a drink, the condensation on the outside of the glass glinted in the casino lights. With a nod, he placed the drink on the table beside you. The liquid within beckoned to you, the cool, cold condensation a tantalizing promise of relief. You practically lunged for the drink, your parched throat relishing the cool liquid as you downed it all in one gulp.

“Your wife, huh?” You smiled as you put the empty cup on the table.

After watching you practically inhale the drink as if dying of thirst, Mando bent down as he ignored you. With a swift motion, he unlocked the cuff around your wrist and freed you from the booth. He then stood straight again; his gaze fixed on you.

“Got the information I needed. We can head back to the Crest.” He said as you rose from the booth.

Mando’s reaction was instant as you reached out and grabbed his wrist, his body jolted at the unexpected touch. He turned back to face you.

“What?”

You looked up at him, your hand still wrapped around his wrist and suggested, "What if we get a room? With an actual bed, maybe?"

He stared at you.

“I may have stolen enough credits, so I can pay for it myself?”

His visor betrayed no reaction, but his body seemed to tense beneath your hold. Then, he nodded.

Mando seemed to consider your suggestion for a moment before he spoke, his voice gruff beneath the modulator. "Fine," he said, the word coming out as a reluctant agreement. He then adjusted his grip, his fingers wrapping around your wrist instead. "But only because you didn't run off," he added as he pointed his finger at you, a note of subtle approval in his tone.

As he pivoted on his heel and began to lead you through the casino, you couldn't help but smile to yourself. There was a sense of triumph in the way he tugged you along, your hand encircled by his sturdy grip. The sound of the casino faded into the background as you followed him through the corridors and to the lobby.

The moment Mando reached the counter, he reached out and rang the bell. After a moment, the guard from earlier emerged from the back room, his expression a mix of tiredness and irritation. The guard let out a long sigh, leaning heavily on the counter as he recognized the armored figure before him.

"Two rooms," Mando said. With a flick of his hand, he tossed a small stack of credits you stole onto the counter and it clattered against the hard surface.

The guard darted from the credits to Mando’s helmet and raised his eyebrows. “Two rooms?” He asked.

Mando remained still as he stared at the guard.

"Now, why would a husband and wife need two rooms?" he sneered, a smirk played at the corner of his mouth. The guard crossed his arms across his chest, as if challenging the Mandalorian's response. The tension in the air thickened as he stared at the guard, his grip on your wrist tightened ever so slightly.

“One. Room.” Mando said and you felt the anger radiate off him.

The guard raised an eyebrow at Mando's tone, seemingly surprised by the man's demeanor, but he quickly snatched the credits from the counter and handed Mando one room key.

With a swift, almost violent motion, Mando snatched the key and remaining credits from the counter. The guard's fingers barely moved out of the way in time.

It wasn’t until the door shut behind you with a soft click and a sense of isolation enveloped you that you noticed Mando's shoulders relax again. His rigid stance loosened as if shedding the tension that had been weighing heavily upon him. The dim lighting of the room cast dramatic shadows across his armor, but for a moment, in the quiet of the room, he looked less like an intimidating warrior and more like a man struggling to hold onto his composure.

He walked past you, his movements purposeful and measured and made his way to the chair in the corner of the room. He spoke as he sat down, the sound of the chair creaked slightly under his weight as he folded his arms. "I'll take the chair," he stated, his voice flat and matter of fact. He leaned back in the chair, the metal of his armor clinked against the wood.

You sat down on the edge of the bed closest to him, the springs of the mattress dipping slightly beneath your weight. You looked over at Mando seated in the chair he had claimed as his own. "I'm sorry," you said.

His helmet flicked up to glance at you, but other than that he didn't move.

You sighed.

“I’m sorry you can’t trust me like I want you to.”

“I did trust you.”

You looked up at him and nodded slowly.

“I trusted you to trust me and you-” he stopped himself with a deep sigh and shook his head, “Do you know I still find your blood in the Crest?”

Your eyes closed involuntarily as shameful memories flooded your mind. Flashes of his shaking hands on your bloody body in the dimly lit corner of the Crest. The memories played out in quick, vivid snapshots, like photos being shuffled in a deck of cards. The sound of his angry, raised voice echoed in your head. Its volume and intensity were a stark contrast to his usual collected and calm demeanor. His hands tearing at your clothes to get to your injuries. His hands holding you down as you cried. Your cold body drenched in your own blood. His cries as he held you. You could almost feel the fear that oozed from him, a fear you had never seen in him before, and it terrified you more than your injury had.

“I can’t see you like that again,” he said.

You took a deep breath and opened your eyes again, the memories still lingered like ghosts in the back of your mind. Without uttering a word, you nodded in acknowledgment.

You turned away from him, your focus shifted to the bed that seemed too large and too empty for just you. The words "Sleep with me?" left your lips before you could second-guess yourself, your voice almost a whisper in the quiet room.

“What?”

“I miss you Mando. I won’t touch you, I just - miss you.”

Without a word, he stood from the chair.

Mando did not take his armor off like he used to. He did not slip under the covers, instead laid on top of the sheets. He did not hold you close to his chest like he had for countless months.

The distance was palpable; not just the space between your bodies, but also the distance between the connection you once shared.

Instead, you found yourself clutching the soft fabric of his cloak in your hands as you laid beside him. The scent of him that had once seemed soothing and comforting was muted by the metallic smell of his armor. Fatigue tugged at your eyelids, your mind teetering on the edge of sleep as you held onto his cloak. The bed seemed too large, too desolate without his embrace.

He was so close yet so far.

Familiar yet foreign.

As you were on the verge of that sweet surrender of sleep, his arm moved around your waist and pulled you gently closer to him. His touch was unexpected, his movements cautious yet deliberate. Your body slotted against his armored form, the cold touch of his armor against your skin a sharp contrast to the unexpected warmth that spread through you at the contact.

“Can I trust you? Will you trust me to keep you safe? Because I can’t see you like that again and I need to know if I can trust you to listen to me when it matters most,” he said. You could hear the strain in his usually calm and collected voice. The underlying hint of fear in his tone.

You nodded into his side, the strength of his grip on your waist a comfort. You had no intention of leaving his side again, the memories of his angry voice and shaky hands was still fresh in your mind. You wanted to stay close to him, for him to trust you in the way he once had.

He nodded as he sat up in the bed, his movements methodical and practiced. You silently watched as he began to remove his armor, each piece came off with a series of clicks and scrapes as he unclasped and untethered the Beskar from his body.

He left his armor stacked neatly on the chair; each piece placed with a level of care. Then, he returned to the bed, the mattress dipped slightly as he slid under the sheets. His body warm against yours.

You could have cried.

You did cry.

The warmth of his bare hand against your stomach as he pulled your back against his chest emanated more than just physical comfort. The solidity of his body against yours was a reminder that he was there with you. His touch was firm yet gentle, his fingers splayed over your stomach in a way that suggested he was afraid of letting go. You sank back into his embrace, the steady beat of his heart against your back a soothing lullaby you had not been able to sleep without.

You weren't alone anymore.

Notes

Did I stay on track of fake marriage? Maybe? – listen I tried. I sat down to try and write this three times and scrapped it three times before I finally stuck with this. But regardless, I had a lot of fun doing this! I haven’t necessarily written in the Star Wars universe before, only AU’s with Din so this was very intimidating. I did, however, like writing it. It was just scary because I didn’t want to describe something incorrectly or not write it correctly?

#din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin x reader #mando x you #mando x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian

299 notes · View notes

qu1cks1lversb1tch · 6 months ago

Text

Everything | Overlord!Husk x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Overlord!Husk fluff, established relationship with reader, very sweet and domestic, a slightly intimate moment near the end

Word Count: 913

Summary: You were out to support your fiancé while he did his job, but by the end you were about ready to drop, so he steps in to remind you exactly why you're marrying him and not some other overlord.

A/N — I've never written for Husk before — let alone Overlord!Husk, so I'm hoping this gets some love 💗

"It's about that time, my love." You whispered in his ear, watching the hands on the clock tick with every passing second — every passing minute.

Tick.

"I'll be done soon, Doll." His grip around your waist tightened as the men around the table stared you down like a piece of meat.

You thought he was insane playing high stakes games. On more than one occasion you found yourself uttering the phrase 'play stupid games, win stupid prizes', which was essentially the equivalent to 'fuck around and find out'. . . Which you had also said many, many, many times.

Husk nearly always had a good hand, so the prize was often money or jewelry — anything that was bet and valuable at the time of his win. Even souls, if they were put on the line. You loved watching those ones, as twisted as it likely sounded.

Hell, you were almost certain the engagement ring that sat prettily on your finger was won in a bet. No complaints regardless of how it came to be. It was sparkly and just your style.

The only time you had a complaint was when he chose gambling over his responsibilities. . . Namely making sure you were happy and satisfied. Even then, it was a rare occasion, despite practically being his whole job.

Tonight, though, you were bored.

You were hungry.

You were tired and just wanted to go home — but you stayed to support him and it was now long past when the two of you ate dinner and it was rapidly approaching the time when you usually went to bed, knowing your mornings were early and consisted of mentally taxing wedding planning with your closest friends.

You loved them, though, and appreciated all of their ideas. Who in Hell didn't love the idea of an event as important as an overlord wedding?

Bitter, loveless souls obviously — but other than that. . . Who?

When the game finally came to an end, it was no surprise to you when Husk collected his winnings. Almost 10K and two souls. You loved when things worked out.

"Let's get you home, Doll. You look fuckin' exhausted."

"You really know how to flatter a woman." You snorted, allowing him to lead you out of the casino he owned. "I should lock you out of the room for mentioning my exhaustion in public."

"Oh, don't be like that!" He smirked, playing into the little game you always played. When he played back, you knew you were about to get your way. "Gonna make you forgive me, one way or another."

You hummed with a smirk of your own, looking away from him. "We'll see."

"How about. . . Dinner at the house and a nice hot bath, hmm? . . And your favorite ice cream?"

Your smirk morphed into a smile. "Close, but we'll see."

"I'll join you?"

"You're forgiven."

It wasn't long before you were sat at the table eating the quick and delicious meal that Husk made — it was far from something he would've usually made, but it was delicious and you enjoyed it.

He finished eating first and went to run the bath for you, but not without kissing you on the forehead on his way to the shared bedrooms ensuite bathroom.

You loved that bathroom — it had been what sold you on the house in the first place. Sure, the kitchen was nice, but the bathroom had a huge bathtub, a spacious shower, and the colors of the floor and shower tiles went together without clashing or being gaudy.

The lighting wasn't bad either.

You called it your 'own little slice of Heaven'.

You soon finished and put your plate in the sink, but before you could wash up the couple dishes, Husk grabbed your hand and guided you to the bathroom where he urged you to undress and get into the hot bath while he handled the couple dishes.

You did as he asked and got undressed, stepping into the tub filled with water and bubbles. Immediately, the stress from the day melted away as the heat soothed the aching muscles that you surprisingly hadn't noticed until then.

Husk joined you a few minutes later, slipping into the water behind you. He hated water as much as the next cat, but for you, he'd do anything and everything.

"It was a long fuckin' day." He groaned at the hot water, your back pressed against his chest.

"You're telling me. . . I thought it would never end." You chuckled and then sighed contently. "I could fall asleep right here."

"You love going with me and you know it." Husk mused, his hands finding their way into your hair, fidgeting with the strands in a way that raised goosebumps.

"I do. But I also love having moments like this. Moments where it's just us. No gambling. No overlord society gala. No worries. Just us in our slice of Heaven."

He couldn't help but agree, those moments were perhaps the best part of his day.

And he'd give you that.

He'd give you everything.

It didn't matter what it was, whether it was material or otherwise. He loved you, so the world was yours if you asked. Money. Power. Anything. Everything.

"We have all of eternity for moments like this. . . We've already taken the first step." He ran one of his clawed hands down your arm until it was placed in the hand that the sparkly ring adorned, glistening in the light.

Everything for all of eternity.

🏷Tags: @6esiree

#hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #husk x reader #husk x you #hazbin hotel x female reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #husker hazbin hotel #hazbin husker #husker x reader

232 notes · View notes

nalyniavadelletargaryen · 6 months ago

Text

[ HOTD - Aegon Targaryen ]

HeadCannons SFW + NSFW

First Post…I have 3 other accs for 3 whole different interests. I think I’m going crazy atp. Anyway enjoy my PERSONAL thoughts on The Usurper King.

{ WARMINGS }: SFW + NSFW + MDNI + HIGH VALRYIAN

{ PRESS ▶️ }:

SFW

Aegon is a pleaser. Not in an “I’ll do whatever you want me to” way. More in the “I want you to love me, so I’ll do what it takes to keep your attention on me..” sense. It’s manipulative, but he’s grown up in an environment where love is withheld constantly, so he gives to take from you. Toxicity is his form of affection, and he’s aware of it but struggles to let you go…

Aegon tends to hold you on a pedestal. You aren’t to be touched by anyone but him. He can’t stand the thought of you being exposed to the sins he commits or has committed without his explicit intent to do so. You’re his greatest treasure, and with that title comes the burden of being kept close to him. Your innocence belongs to him; he will defend or defile it as he sees fit.

Aegon has a surreal weakness for his hair being played with. He immediately softens when you run your fingers through, ruffle, or swipe fallen strands from his eyes. More than a few times, he’s fallen asleep just because you are playing with his hair. If you ever bring it up as a weakness, he will deny it til his dying breath.

He will not sleep unless you’re in his bed. Aegon will purposefully preoccupy himself with drinking and every other deviant activity to keep from going to bed alone. You chalk it up as a cute habit of his at first, maybe even a sign of his protective nature, but in reality, he tends to be restless without the sound of your soft breathing and the feeling of your warm skin against his. Your presence eases his mind to a point he can’t always reach when sober.

Aggressive Protector. He has to have a say in your safety. Aegon can not stand when you leave without informing him of your whereabouts. He practically loses his mind when you refuse guards trailing your every move. His sanity momentarily slips when he awakes in the middle of the night to find you gone for a mere second. He’s overbearing in his approach to protect you and is vicious to anyone who implies harm your way.

Aegon will never actually apologize. He tends not to immediately snap at you during arguments, harboring a bittersweet wit for every conversation, but when he does snap back, it’s harsh and unforgiving. You take his words to heart every time, not speaking to him for days on end, and eventually, he breaks, but not in the standard way of admitting one’s wrongdoings. No, Aegon prefers to give you gifts and a semi-thoughtful gesture to regain your favor. “I apologize..” will rarely leave his lips but “You’ll forgive me, right?” Is a constant phrase he finds himself saying to you as a replacement..

He loves to chase. The thrill of playing a cat-and-mouse game through any means feeds his impulsive nature without fail. You can string him along anytime and in any way you prefer, and he will entertain the game with the intent to win by all means necessary. The very knowledge that you put up a fight against his charm to lose to it in the end makes his head spin with pride.

Games. Aegon loves to engage in tedious matches of the mind. It’s not his well-known trait or talent, but he is skilled at logistical gaming or gambling. He will not often put you up to a bet, even over the most minor things, just for the thrill of it. Whether you lose or win against him never really matters. He enjoys the stakes and risks of a challenge.

Physical touch is his primary love language. Second to this is acts of service. Aegon prefers to express himself through action rather than words, feeling as though he can be too harsh in his approach at times, and therefore, he resigns gentle shows of affection to touch. It’s easy enough to get used to him having a hold on you, and he delights in seeing others envious that you’re his and the only one he has. Most of the time, Aegon is somewhat tender with you, with an arm around your waist, kissing your temple or lips, or simply having you sit in his lap whenever he pleases. Then there are the moments where he can be brave with you, gripping your face when he speaks to you so your eyes never leave his, marking your neck with deep bruises just for the whole of the kingdom to see what he does to you.

Likes to be….” babied” but in the sense of “being cared for without explicit reasoning to do so.” The small things you do for Aegon catch his attention at first, simple tasks you don’t think much of in the moment, but for him, they heal a wound he never acknowledges. Bringing him something to sober up with after a long night of drinking and mending his clothes if they tear. Straightning up his appearance whenever you see fit. All and any of those actions touch the Usurper‘s fragmented heart.

NSFW

Innocence/Corruption: Aegon enjoys taking what he can’t have. That includes semblances of purity around him. Finding out you’ve never been touched or fucked will strip an urge in him. It’s primal and dark, but he’s addicted to being the first man to show you absolute pleasure. Aegon's favored approach is teasing you, toying with you whenever he can, to tear you apart under the guise of wanting to teach you what desire means.

Power Dynamic: He is very aware of his status and will use it to his advantage. Knowing you can’t refuse a command he’s given, realizing you’ll obey anyway, and using this information for his gain keeps him on edge. Of course, you’ll fall to your knees and milk him dry. He’s your king. If your sovereign tells you to come undone for the third time in one night by his hand, then you have no right to refuse him. It's as simple as that.

Slight Mommy Issues: When Aegon desires to be under your control, he gives in so quickly. He can be defiant, playful, and challenging to control, but it only makes you relentlessly take him. He adores it. Your soft gaze hardens on him, the steely edge to your tone when you tell him to kneel for you, and the gradual roughness you inflict on him as the tension builds. It’s a little too easy to dwindle The Pretender down to a whimpering and whining mess, but you succeed when the opportunity presents itself.

Praise/Degradation: Aegon doesn’t lean to either. He can balance his words and their effect with little effort. A backhanded comment to you always has an underlying adoration. He’s a skilled charmer, knowing when to push you with words of encouragement and when to belittle you until tears creep down your cheeks. “Don’t tell me you’re so ignorant to believe I’ll let you come undone so soon, sweetling.” “Morbidly pathetic little slut aren’t you?..” “You’re doing so well, sweet girl. “ “Keep your eyes on me..just like that..” “You’re not half as talkative with your mouth so full now…what a shame?..”

Aegon is a master at posing false sympathy and an even better expert at mocking you. Whether he means well by what he says is always the furthest concern in your mind when the pleasure they inflict is forcefully automatic.

Oral Fixation/Enthusiast: He adores your mouth. The softness of your lips, how warm it is, and even the silliness of your tongue when you use it on him has Aegon in a perpetual trance. He discovered the little obsession with your mouth during a tenuous family gathering. You kept nibbling at various fruits, sucking, and licking the juices that leaked from them with little attention to those who noticed you doing so. Aegon certainly noticed, his cock twitching with need when your kitten licked your fingertips, picked another small fruit to sink your teeth into, and swallowed down with a quiet hum. Later that evening, you couldn’t stop him from slipping his fingers past your sticky lips, quietly gagging as you sucked on them gently and moaning quietly as he watched you intently. The slight smile tugging at his mouth when you choke and whine as his fingers fuck your mouth drives him to push you down on your knees a moment later, replacing his hand with his cock with little protest from you. He shouldn’t like the sight of you crying as he fucks your face so much, but oh, does Aegon love to see you indulge in him with nothing but your pretty and supple lips.

Pain: Aegon will leave his mark on you one way or another. He’ll never raise a hand to you out of pure anger, but in the thralls of lust, you’ll endure an affliction or two. He’s pretty handy with you, able to manhandle your more petite frame without much thought, and seemingly forgetful that not all your dresses will cover the evidence of his roughness with you. “Let them see…let the gods see if they must…” He insists that no other opinion is of consequence, and you always fall for it. The next day, you’re left to endure people whispering about the bruises on your exposed skin and the lingering red imprint of his hands around your throat. You leave your marks on him as well, scratches on his skin, little bites on his neck, and the rouge you use for lips staining his collar.

Overstimulation: seeing you writhe and shake under his touch stimulates Aegon. The quick rush of your breaths as you try to contain yourself, tears streaming down your face, with the urge to come overpowering you. He drinks in the sight with a smile, forcing the high from you to reach his own. Seeing your face fall and confront with various expressions as you visibly can't take him anymore drags out Aegon’s demented nature. It's nearly otherworldly how much he loves seeing you come violently, on his cock, in his mouth, on his hand…? It doesn't matter as long as you are physically struggling to stay sane.

Exhibitionism: Aegon chases thrills constantly. Whether it be to disrupt his mother’s peace of satisfy his own desire for fun he ropes you into his ‘harmless’ schemes often. Fucking you to the point of tears in the throne room is a favored past time of his. He knows very well how terrified you are of being caught in the act, of any servant, lord, and lady alike happening upon him having his way with you. He knows and he holds that knowledge over your head, enjoying the way you try to quiet yourself, and prideful of the fact that you fail miserably.

Titles/Pet Names: Aegon is careful with the way he addresses you. Though it varies upon his mood in the moment he’s partial to more affectionate titles. “Sweetling” “My Queen.” “Darling.” “Sweet girl.” “Kēlītsos” (Kitten) “Byka mandia” (Little Mouse) “Hāedar” (Younger sister) & “Dōna mandia” (Sweet sister). You exchange the pet names from him with equal contentment; “My love.” “My King.” “Aeg.” “Rōva lēkia” (Big brother) “Lēkia.” (Elder brother).

This took me way too long to finish but I’m glad it’s my first post. 💚

{ SEALED CONTENT }

136 notes · View notes