#hit most of the points while keeping the tone

[gingerkunoichii]

How They'd React to You Teasing Them.

MASTERLIST Characters: Naruto Uzumaki, Shikamaru Nara, Sasuke Uchiha, Kakashi Hatake, Warnings: NSFW and SFW descriptions, tables turned against you

♡ Naruto isn’t exactly subtle when he gets flustered, and teasing him is like pressing a big red button. If you compliment him in an over-the-top way—like calling him “strong and heroic” with mock seriousness—he’ll grin at first, thinking you’re being genuine. But the moment he realizes you’re teasing, his face turns bright red, and he stammers out something incoherent while scratching the back of his neck. “H-Hey! I mean, yeah, I am pretty strong… but you don’t have to make a big deal out of it!” ♡ His attempts to play it cool usually backfire hilariously. If you tease him about how cute he looks when he’s mad, he’ll immediately prove your point by getting even madder. “Mad?! I’m not mad, I’m—wait, stop smiling like that!” ♡ Naruto doesn’t like to lose, even in teasing battles, so if you keep pushing, he’ll fight back in the most chaotic ways. Expect tickle attacks, goofy faces, or him grabbing you and spinning you around until you’re laughing so hard you can’t tease him anymore. “Ha! Now you can’t talk, can you? I win!” ♡ Naruto is weak for your voice, especially when you drop it to a sultry, teasing tone. If you lean in close and whisper something suggestive, like how much you’ve been thinking about him or how good he looks shirtless, he’s immediately turned on. His throat tightens, and he gets a little dizzy from how fast his blood rushes south. “You can’t just say stuff like that and expect me to keep my hands to myself, y’know…” ♡ One second he can be stumbling over a compliment you've given him and the next a complete different person, especially if you try to tease him further. For example, your hand trailing along his thigh under the table or your fingertips brushing over the waistband of his pants when you pass by drives him fucking crazy. He’ll catch your wrist, his grip firm but not rough, and pull you close, eyes dark with need. “You know you’re not subtle, right? If you wanted my cock that bad, you could’ve just said so.”

♡ Naruto gets so turned on when you pretend like you’re not doing anything on purpose—like pressing your ass against him when you “accidentally” back into him or lightly dragging your nails over his abs while pretending to admire them. He chuckles, low and rough, before leaning down to murmur in your ear. "Why are you acting all innocent now? I know what you're trying to do. You want me to fuck you, right?"

♡ He loves when you accidentally make sounds, especially when you were acting all confident and trying to tease him. It makes him want to take you right then and there. He loves knowing that you get turned on just from messing with him. His grin gets wider when he leans in close. “That sound? Fuck, that’s hot. Bet you’ll be moaning a lot louder when I’m inside you.”

♡ At first, teasing Shikamaru doesn’t seem to do much. He’ll sigh dramatically, lazily leaning back while pretending not to care. His typical response? A half-smile and a nonchalant, “How troublesome…” But that tiny smirk on his lips? It gives him away every time. “You’re putting way too much effort into this. What a drag.”

♡ Shikamaru is a master at flipping your teasing back on you without lifting a finger. If you comment on how “cool” or “handsome” he is in an exaggerated tone, he’ll nod casually, throwing in a dry, “Yeah, I get that a lot,” just to annoy you.

♡ If you push him too far, he’ll give you a small, knowing smirk and drop a sarcastic comment that leaves you sputtering. His dry humour hits right where it hurts—in the funniest way possible. “You’re teasing me now, but you’re going to trip over your own joke in a second. Just wait.” ♡ Shikamaru loves when you’re direct. If you lean in close and whisper something dirty, like how much you’ve been thinking about his cock or how wet you are, he gives you a lazy grin that’s equal parts amused and turned on. “Troublesome woman. You’re bold today, huh? That’s dangerous, you know.”

♡ If you try to rile him up by brushing against him “accidentally” or kissing him in a way that doesn’t quite go far enough, Shikamaru plays along—at first. He’s patient, letting you think you’re in control, but he’s calculating every move. When he’s had enough, he’ll pull you onto his lap and tilt your chin up with his fingers, speaking in that low, slow voice that makes your stomach flip. “You think you’ve got me all worked up? Cute. Let’s see who’s teasing who now.” ♡ Shikamaru loves it when you're on top and grind yourself against his cock - it's a failed attempt at teasing really, especially when he’s too “lazy” to do more than groan softly and put his hands behind his head. He’ll let you take your time, enjoying every roll of your hips without rushing things. “Huh, guess you weren’t lying about being turned on. I bet you’re soaked already." ♡ When finally you go too far and the haze is too much even for him he doesn’t get rough; instead, he smirks and takes control in that maddeningly calm, deliberate way, dragging out every touch just to make you squirm. His calm demeanour only makes it more intense when his fingers finally dip between your folds, testing just how wet you are. “You’ve been asking for this all night. Now sit still for just a second..”

♡ Sasuke’s initial reaction to teasing is almost always a glare. He’ll scoff or mutter something under his breath, trying to act like he doesn’t care. But the way his jaw tightens or how his eyes flick away from yours for a second gives away that he’s just barely tolerating it—because it’s you. "Hn. Do you ever stop talking?"

♡ Sasuke isn’t one to engage in playful banter, but if you really push him, he’ll quietly turn the tables on you in a way that leaves you flustered. A quick, dry remark or a barely-there smirk is all it takes to remind you he’s not as unaffected as he pretends to be. “If you have time to mess with me, maybe you should find something useful to do.”

♡ He doesn't rise to the bait with words. Instead, he retaliates in small, calculated ways—like stepping closer so his presence feels heavy, brushing past you deliberately, or locking eyes just a little too long. His quiet dominance makes you second-guess whether you’re still the one in control. “Are you done yet?” ♡ Even though he acts cold, Sasuke can’t hide his soft spot for you entirely. If someone else joins in on teasing you, his demeanour shifts to something even colder, his sharp words quickly shutting them down. “Mind your own business. This doesn’t involve you.” ♡ Despite his composed demeanour, Sasuke’s soft spot for you slips out in subtle ways—like the faint smirk he gives when you’re being particularly cheeky or the way he leans slightly closer when you tease him. He won’t admit it, but he likes the attention from you only. “You’re lucky you’re not completely insufferable.” ♡ Sasuke admires your confidence but refuses to let you get the upper hand. When you run your fingers along his chest or brush your lips against his jawline, he doesn’t pull away or react immediately. Instead, he watches you with sharp, calculating eyes, letting you think you’re in control—for now. “That’s it? I thought you’d be braver than that.” ♡ If you get bold enough to murmur filthy words in his ear—telling him how wet you are or how much you’ve been thinking about his cock—Sasuke doesn’t blush or fluster. Instead, his jaw tightens, and his lips curl into a faint, humourless smirk as his dark eyes pierce into yours. “You talk too much. Why don’t you show me instead?” ♡ Sasuke really doesn't get flustered when you tease him, instead his cock twitches when you grind against him or sit on his lap - whilst his face is completely straight, he doesn’t lose his composure as easily as other men might. His hands settle on your hips, holding you firmly but without rushing. He lets you take the lead for a moment, but the intensity in his gaze warns that he won’t let you stay in control for long. “Tch. You’re always so demanding… enjoy my mercy whilst it lasts."”

♡ Kakashi is hard to fluster, so your teasing rarely gets an obvious reaction. Instead, he raises a brow or gives you that infamous eye crinkle, his amusement barely hidden behind his mask. He lets you think you’re in control, but his relaxed demeanour makes it clear he’s enjoying the game. “Oh? That’s cute. You’ve been practising your teasing all for me, haven’t you?” ♡ If you tease him about his mask or his obsession with Icha Icha. Kakashi doesn’t just let it slide. He’s quick with a sly comeback, usually something flirty enough to leave you second-guessing whether he’s joking or serious. "Careful, teasing me about Icha Icha. I might have to give you a demonstration. Unless that's what you've been aiming for this entire time?" ♡ Kakashi’s first reaction to any teasing about his age is the classic, unimpressed eye crinkle. He doesn’t get mad, but his expression screams, Really? That’s what you’re going with? “If I’m old, then you must like older men. Should I be flattered?”

♡ One of Kakashi's biggest turn-ons is the allure of mystery, so when you tug at his mask or pretend you’re going to pull it down to try and tease him, his cock awakens instantly. He doesn’t stop you but lets you toy with him, enjoying the game just as much as the payoff. “Not so fast. If you want more, you’ll have to earn it.”

♡ Kakashi thrives on verbal teasing as much as physical. If you call him a pervert or mention his obsession with Icha Icha, it only spurs him on. He leans in close, his breath hot against your ear, and murmurs something that makes your knees weak. “Pervert, huh? Let me show you just how imaginative all that reading has made me.”

♡ The table always ends up reversed against you. Kakashi is an absolute master of teasing. He's not shy about dragging things out either, especially when you tried to play a grandmaster at his own game. He loves running his cock along your folds without pushing inside or stopping just when you're about to cum. The more you whimper the more it makes him tease you to teach you a lesson. “Patience, sweetheart. Good things come to those who wait… or beg.”

[glossykissies]

no one can tell me scott's solution to an attitude problem isn't an orgasm!!! worst mood ever and he's already backing you against wtv surface and lulling you into it with his voice - 🍓

okay but this with babydaddy!scott.

your one free day, and you’ve had one million things to do — most of them going wrong in some way, costing you money or just plain stressing you out. it’s times like this you dwell on not being in a relationship with scott, living together. yes he works alot, but he’d still be able to help you out — and at this point you would have taken anything. oh well, you’d made that choice.

evening falls, and speak of the devil — the door bell is ringing.

scott stands alone at the door, looking casual if not tired himself — and revved up from the day, you don’t even give him a chance to speak.

“wheres the baby? scott where is my baby— i told you not to leave her in the car so she better not be—” you go to shove past him, body on high alert and he effortlessly grabs you by the shoulders, rolling his eyes as he walks you back inside.

“shes with my mom, remember? i mean i did literally tell you.” he’s sassy with his response, letting go of you to close the door behind him with his foot and rubbing a stressed hand over his face. you relax instantly — despite everything, scott’s mother was good. you could tell she’d been waiting for a baby to come around, a toss up between scott and his younger siblings all similar in age. she was alot gentler in nature — it was his father that scott was more alike. strict, business-minded, sarcastic.

“right…” you sigh, wiping your hands down your clothes. “so what do you want? why are you here?” it comes out snappier than intended yet again, and scott blinks. it wasn’t often he was thrown off guard, usually able to take whatever attitude you throw at him and double it — but this wasn’t like you. you were soft, sweet, polite. he takes the moment to eye you, stress in your body language, shoulders tense, clothes and hair a little disheveled. you were still beautiful, but you didn’t look like you were doing too good.

“asked me last week to fix that bathroom cabinet. i’m here now. ring any bells?” he shakes his head and you fiddle with your fingers, breathing all heavy. you didn’t even look like you heard what he just said, just blinking as he watches the cogs in your brain turn, mind in a million places.

“uh…” you’re distracted, trying to shake yourself out of it and he sighs.

“are you gonna tell me what’s wrong or do i have to pull it out of you?” he deadpans and you swallow, resolve crumbling a little as your posture shrinks.

“i’m fine. just tired. baby was up all n—”

“you’re stressed. you keep clenching up your fists, your jaws all tight, could probably crack a walnut between your ass cheeks right now. why didn’t you ask me to help?” he folds his arms, accusatory — brows raised and expectant. your fists only clench tighter and your knee wobbles like you want to stomp your foot petulantly.

“i don’t need it.” your voice cracks a little.

“you need a break.” he tells you off, louder than you, sternly and you pout, eyes on his shoes. “when was the last time you touched yourself?” his voice quietened once more, and he asks like it was a regular question — like he was asking when the last time you ate was.

“wh— scott?”

“tell me.”

“i dont — when i was pregnant? maybe? i don’t see how that’s —”

scott sets his bag down, before walking at you, gently backing you up until your ass hits the little table that held the lamp beside the couch. “so too long?” he shrugs, mouth turned downwards as he starts to work at tugging up the sundress you just tugged on this morning.

“scott!��� you whine, and you try to sound defiant — but it’s the whinyness in your tone that tells him everything. that lilting, high pitched mewl that he missed hearing — telling him just how badly you needed to cum.

“dont wanna hear it. you know you could have just called. i would have fixed that attitude while the babies down for thirty.” he shakes his head, rubbing his fingers familiarly over your comfy, mesh, baby pink panties— arousal already beginning to smear through the gusset just from his stern-talking-to at the door. “yeah. there you go.” you clutch his biceps for support, table wobbling under your ass as you melt— a whimpery sigh deflating from your chest.

that big hand of his slots itself inside the material, rough finger tips working you over and pushing inside after spreading your arousal and you groan, your big, tall babydaddy practically holding all your weight without breaking a sweat as he presses his lips together in concentration, trying to find that spot. “mmph— scotty!” it slips out, the affectionate rendition of his name you’d always call him when you were together. his heart skips a little and cock chubs against his thigh.

“feeling better already, aren’t you? atta girl.”

[krash-8]

im so sorry rick but the tlt musical is actually the greatest pjo adaptation ever. I said what I said

[gojosprettyprincess]

MEGUMI FUCKING HIS DAD’S GIRLFRIEND!!

Cheating, Megumi is twenty n reader is a bit older. Not Proofread

⊹ ｡ ﾟ⁖✦

Something about Megumi passionately pounding you into the mattress that you and Toji shared while he’s away for a mission makes me soo horny

Both of his hands are firmly squeezing the back of your thighs—keeping them pressed against your bouncing tits while he’s plummeting his stiff cock deeply into your stimulated, used pussy. His mushroom tip nudging against your g-spot sending waves of ecstasy coursing through your entire body, which is by no means difficult for him to find because ohh, he knows you and your pretty pussy sooo well.

He’s remaining eye contact with you, with a dark twisted grin plastered on his face. Pride swelling in his chest knowing he’s splitting open his dad’s girlfriend’s little pussy in half with his cock while you moan and cream around his shaft.

It’s such an accomplishment to him.

“Fuckk You’re such a pathetic whore, y’know that baby?” He groans grumbly, with a hint of laughter and amusement, watching as your brows furred together cutely, as you pouted. “M-not a whore!” You muttered defeatedly, guilt washing over you as you broke eye contact which made him laugh as it echoed in the room, piercing through your defense—he brought one of his hands up to grip your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“Awe baby, look at me while I ruin this pretty little pussy, no need to be shy—don’t worry, I love cock starving whores like you—ones that cheat on their boyfriends with his son while he’s away. Soo pathetic” he says in a mocking sardonic tone, making both your eyes and pussy leak with shame and guilt.

“Fuckk that’s it, this hungry pussy is sucking me in so well, fuck you're so tight and wet, all f'me” he moans out like a horny teenager.

His fat, swollen tip expertly brushes against your most sensitive area, hitting it precisely with each vigorous movement of his hips, bullying his cock into you like it has a mind of its own. Your eyes roll back in pleasure, drool steeping out of your mouth and pussy as your brain grows foggy.

The familiar sensation building up in the pit of your stomach, making you mewl as he trails his hand down and lightly brushes his thumb across your clit, his touch tracing gentle but fast circles on the sensitive bud.

“Mmm, are you gonna cum baby? Gonna make a mess on your stepson’s cock? Fuck, such a little horny slut, what would your boyfriend think if he found out his slut of a girlfriend is about to cum on his son's dick?” He chuckles mischievously, his deep, husky laugh resonating in the room, as he slowly brings his thumb up to lick the slick building up on it, a low groan escaping his lips as he savors the taste of you before returning to teasing the bundle of nerves—helping you towards your pleasure.

You moaned out pathetically, you can’t lie, Megumi was so much like his dad in bed, it drove you crazy. Whether it was the way he dominated your tight pussy with his cock or his rough demeanor. He was Toji’s son, alright.

“Gumii, m’gonna cum! please, fuck! s’good, please don’t stop”. You begged, desperately holding onto his forearm for support. His hips buckled against you so eagerly, so desperately to feel you cumming on his cock. He licks his lips in anticipation—watching your pretty tits bouncing in syne, accommodating his powerful thrusts into your dripping pussy.

"Don’t plan on stopping baby—Fuckkk” he groaned, putting both of your legs over his shoulders and folding you into a mean mating press. Gradually descending, moving down, down, down into you to the point where your knees are almost touching your ears, The close proximity allowed his minty breath to trace across your face, mingling with the heat radiating from his body and the sweat that glistened as it dripped from his tousled hairline onto you.

The new angle of penetration had his cock drilling deeper into you, making you see stars as your release washes over you. “Fuckfuckfuck Megumiii” you cried out, your nails instinctively gripping his toned biceps, causing him to hiss with a mixture of pleasure and pain as he leaned in closer, pressing his forehead against yours. Your pulsating hole fluttered uncontrollably as you came around his cock. You both breathe heavily, he sticks his tongue out—licking the tears leaking from your eyes as you felt his cock twitching inside of you. Your release was enough to make him cum right on the spot.

“Yesyesyes—fuck yes!, love this pussy so much hah! M’gonna cum, fucking take ittt” he moaned in a breathless whisper against your ear. The room echoed with both of your needy moans and the loud sound of his fat balls slapping against the curve of your ass.

You bit your lip as you felt his balls draining into your little stretched pussy, his seed spurting deep into you as he continues fucking it further and deeper into you. At this point, you both were so utterly fucked out. His warm semen began to overflow, cascading out of your pussy and trickling slow and steady onto your sensitive asshole, and onto toji’s bedsheets.

His body collapsed onto you as he tenderly nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his erection nestled within your already overfilled pussy to cockwarm him.

You squealed at the heavy weight of his body crushing yours so suddenly as you combed your fingers through his hair and that was one of the main differences between Megumi and Toji, Megumi is always so soft with you after he fucks you because he’s always gets fucked out as much as you do after sex whereas toji, he can control himself and maintain his dominance and doesn’t show any ounce of weakness.

[primofate]

Drop the towel wrapped around you and appear naked in front of your Genshin husband

In a nutshell: That old tiktok challenge/prank. In your private, shared home of course.

Warnings: My perpetual warning as a writing mother is that I am sleep deprived. Very VERY sleep deprived. SUGGESTIVE: BORDERING ON NOT SAFE FOR WORK, written on a 10 minute timer please be gentle

Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Cyno, Diluc, Itto, Kaeya, Kaveh, Kazuha, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Tighnari, Wriothesley, Xiao, Zhongli, implied fem!reader

Personal Favourites: Tighnari

Aether

chokes on nothing

"Y-Y-Y/N?! What're you doing?"

Comes up to you and tries to cover you up with the towel again, as if it was a sin to look at you naked in broad daylight.

Full on blush on his face and respectfully tries to look away.

"Don't surprise me like that!"

Seems not to like it but actually likes it too much to the point of getting embarrassed for himself.

Yes he's your husband but is still a precious respectful man

Albedo

Blinks a couple of times but appreciates your beauty and gives your body a slow once over. Chuckles in amusement afterwards.

"Is there a reason for this?"

Just to get his reaction, you admit.

"Well..." starts walking towards you. "I do have higher self-control than most others... but let it be known that I'm far from immune to my..."

Stops in front of you and yet again seems to eat you up with his eyes. "...needs," ends with a suspiciously sweet smile.

Alhaitham

Can't help but be a bit surprised and you can see it by the way his eyebrows go up as soon as the towel hits the floor.

Opens his mouth to say something but closes it again, as if hesitating, which is really strange for someone like him.

"...Is this the part where I sweep you off your feet and carry you to our room?" there's a bit of amusement in his tone. Stands to walk over to you.

Places a hand on your waist.

"Cause I can guarantee you that we DON'T need to be in our bedroom for things to happen...but you knew that already, right?"

Ayato

Quirks his eyebrows up, amused smile appearing on his face.

"I must say, this is a lovely surprise,"

Traces your figure with his eyes. Then approaches you to hold your waist and dip in to kiss your neck softly.

"How could I ever resist, my love, when you're standing in front of me in all your magnificence?"

Takes the longest time just admiring and basking in your beauty, tracing every little part of your skin.

Baizhu

Lets pretend the snake ain't here okay?

Does a double take.

"Y/N, first off, you'll get a cold,"

Pushes his spectacles up and gives you a once over.

"Second, you'll give me a heart attack,"

Beckons you over gently with his hand. "Come over, I suppose it's been a while since...I've done a full body check,"

Hides a grin.

Cyno

Blankly looks at you and is still processing what is happening

"Y/N? Is this... Did I do something?"

Is so suspicious that this was some kind of trap.

You tell him its simply to get a reaction out of him.

Immediately shoots out of his seat and catches your wrist.

"Then...Is it my turn to get one out of you? There's several ways to do that...and I know your favourite ones,"

Diluc

Eyes follow the towel down to the floor and head snaps back up to blink at the sight in front of him. Recovers quickly.

Chuckles as he stands and walks over. Picks up the towel and drapes it around your shoulders. "Only because it's quite chilly tonight,"

but still ends up inching the towel off your shoulder, tracing your collarbone. "Although, as your husband, I suppose it IS my job to keep you warm... So how would you like it today, love?"

Itto

"WHOA!" by instinct covers his eyes with his hands but his fingers are actually splayed apart so he can totally see through the gaps

Feels himself getting aroused

I mean the guy gets turned on even just at the sight of your neck

Suddenly stands and walks over to you, easily hoists you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and makes a beeline to your shared room.

"You're asking for it Y/N!"

Kaeya

"Oho?"

Sits back and relaxes, he doesn't really know what he was expecting. Some type of show maybe. "What's this? Finally giving me that lap dance you owe me, snowflake?"

Laughs but you're incredibly flustered at the suggestion.

Beckons you over and grabs you by the waist to sit on his lap.

"Feel that?" he whispers in your ear.

Oh you feel it alright, pressing at your upper thigh.

"Now whose fault is that? You'll have to do something about it now, love,"

Kaveh

"Archons!"

Looks away with a blush on his cheeks.

"Put something on!"

Yes he's seen you naked before, you're married, but the guy's always flustered in unexpected events.

You provoke him further by coming over, sitting sideways on his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Y/N!" He looks down at you and can't help but look at your nakedness in full and close view.

Gulps but starts to feel his body heat up, his hands suddenly, assertively planting themselves on your waist as he meets your eyes. "I don't care what you say about yourself, but know that you're the only one who takes me from 0 to a 100 in a second,"

Kazuha

"Y/N?" Chuckles nervously and takes in the sight of your body.

Smiles at you and takes your hand to kiss the back of it.

"I've seen you countless of times... Each time, I'm reminded by how fortunate I am that you chose me to take care of you,"

Caresses your cheek all the way down to your jawline. "You're beautiful, Y/N,"

He has the most tender and gentle look on his face, but its mixed with a passion that you've never seen on anyone before. "Let me show you how much I love you, dear,"

Neuvillette

Eyebrows twitches upwards in surprise. Has no clue what to do in this new situation.

He doesn't say anything but is most definitely enjoying the view of your body. You see his jaw tense up, as if he's clenching his teeth.

"Ahem," he starts. Then seems to have the most trouble prying his eyes away to meet your gaze. "Is this...perhaps another way to tell me... that you would like some attention?"

You say not really and just wanted to see how he would react.

"Ah," he lets out, as if understanding and as if the conversation has ended.

A moment of silence passes and you're starting to wonder if that was all he was going to do. But he then stands and places a gentle hand on your bare waist. "...So you're simply doing it, as people would say, 'for fun'?"

He asks, and you say yes innocently. He smiles a bit and has another hand cupping your face and thumbing your lips. "I see," breathes out slowly.

"Unfortunately, for your actions, the Iudex feels that a punishment is in order,"

Scaramouche

Raises one eyebrow as if he's bored. Then smirks.

"If you wanted it, all you had to do was ask," pulls you by the waist and makes you straddle him "But this is good too,"

Hands actually start to grope you up and down. Will fondle and squeeze in private places immediately.

"What? Startin' to feel good? S'what you get when you play games with me,"

will smack your butt the first chance he gets

Tartaglia

Immediately jumps up and in an automatic daze, eyes glued to his favourite parts, trudges towards you and attempts to bury himself in softness.

You quickly stop him and in turn HE quickly stops you. Hands easily bunching your wrists up together and angling them upwards above your head.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," he grins down at you. "Someone's being naughty,"

You complain that he reacts too fast.

Laughs, but his hand starts to unbuckle his pants and there's a dark look in his eyes. "Oh, I'm just being naughty back. When you want something, Y/N, believe it when I say I'll GIVE it to you,"

Tighnari

ear twitches. Tail swishes back and forth. Does not show any expression except slight curiosity.

"What's the occasion?"

You tell him that you just wanted to see his reaction.

He hums and nods slowly, like processing some type of complicated information.

"Wait here, I'll be back in a minute,"

You ask him where he's going and you're a bit upset at the lack of response from him.

He chuckles and returns to you, tail angling upwards in an attempt to wrap and brush against your waist. Takes your hand, presses your wrist against his lips and seems to take a slow breath in.

"I'm merely clearing off my schedule for today. Now, be patient, I'll be back,"

Wriothesley

Almost spits out his drink but gulps it all down instead.

Eyes widen a fraction at the sudden act but his hand is already loosening his tie.

"Wait right there precious," chuckles while he says this, tie already falling to the ground, now unbuttoning his vest. At the same time walks over to you urgently as if you're going to disappear but laughs nervously while he's at it.

"I swear you'll be the death of me,"

Looks like he's going to pounce on you but when he reaches you he only gives you a chaste kiss, as if asking for permission first.

You suddenly remind him that he has a LOT of things to do today, appointments and all.

Actually barks out a quick laugh. "You're not really expecting me to walk out now? As far as I'm concerned," pulls you flush against him and kisses your jaw "The only thing I need to do today is you,"

Xiao

"Wh-Wh-What do you think you're doing?!"

caught unprepared. Crosses his arms and looks away. Pretends he's uninterested but his eyes still dart back to look at you.

You ask him if he likes what he sees.

He now completely looks away from you. A few seconds pass and when he turns his head back to look at you there's now a carnal look in his eyes.

He walks towards you slowly and captures your chin to tilt it up. Looks down at you as if he hasn't eaten a meal in days.

"...When I'm done with you tonight you'll get your answer,"

Zhongli

Chuckles. Amused.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, dear?"

You shrug and even do a turn for him. He watches you carefully and takes in the image in front of him.

Smiles and strides over towards you. "Truly a magnificent sight," brushes his fingers against your neck

His eyes trail downwards and isn't shy about looking at your body. "Might I remind you my dear, my stamina surpasses that of a normal human," he smiles at you sincerely.

You tell him that you're well aware. He just chuckles again.

"Then you know well what'll come next,"

End

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Masterlist

[sanemistar]

drop the act — satoru gojo

contents ★ fem!reader, fake dating to real lovers, fluff, 0.8k+ wc. ﾉ requested for my milestone event.

event m.list ★ jjk m.list

“let’s just stop.” satoru’s announcement came out of the blue. his tone came off serious and firm, which was quite uncharacteristic of him. it took you by surprise, a dumbfounded expression was written all over your face. even though you knew that this whole ‘fake’ relationship situation wouldn’t last long and that it was bound to come to an end sooner or later the moment he found someone he truly loved, and although you prepared yourself for that day, you just couldn’t help but feel a hint of sadness and hurt as your heart clenched painfully inside your chest.

why? because what first started as nothing but a mere attraction, a show to stop your parents’ constant nagging about you not seeing anyone at you age while most of your peers had gotten married already, turned to real and genuine feelings of love. as time passed by since the start of your relationship with him, you found yourself helplessly fall for satoru and those sweet, tender acts of his. the way your name slipped off his lips ever so sweetly, and how it rung into your ears like a serenade. how he took your hand into his as they fitted perfectly, like two puzzle pieces that complete one another. how he casually threw his arms around your waist like it was the most natural thing in the world to do for him.

you knew that all of his sweet actions and gestures were all just a part of his act to make it seem as believable and convincing as possible, and he did exactly that. no one, not even your parents, had a single doubt that the two of you were really dating. to outsiders, your relationship was what they call 'goals'. not knowing that it was all just a show, a camouflage. although you knew it all along, but you couldn't help but fall for him.

satoru was your ideal type for what a lover should be, and you wanted to do nothing more than to confess your feelings for him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. after all, the two of you only ever agreed to do this was because there were no strings attached. it was only a matter of convenience for both you and him, since he also happened to be in the same situation as you. so when you asked for his help, he was more than willing to oblige.

you wanted to tell him not to leave you, to stay with you longer, that you’d gotten so used to being with him to the point where you weren't ready to live without him, that you needed him. just thinking about how the two of you would part ways from then on, and how satoru would eventually move on like nothing happened between the two of you and maybe even find himself someone whom he’d truly love almost made your head spiral out of control.

if only you had known your feelings for him would grow this intensely, you wouldn't have agreed to do this.

your body moved on its own as your hand grabbed the sleeve of his jacket. you swallowed a lump that was starting to form in your throat.

"do we really have to?" your voice was shaky as you sounded very desperate. your eyes were practically glued to the floor as you anxiously awaited for his answer, refusing to ever look up. your chest moved up and down rapidly as as result of your heavy breathing.

you heard him sigh as he removed your hand away.

"yes, it’s gotten really tiring having to keep up with this act." your heart sank at his response. it really was the ending, and you were trying your hardest to fight the tears that eagerly awaited to fall.

satoru reached his hand out and used his thumb to lift your chin up, forcing you to look at his beautiful sky blue eyes. his lips slightly parted as he began speaking.

“let’s drop the act, i love you for real.”

and the sudden declaration hit you like a truck, did he just say that he loved you? it took you a couple of long minutes to process his words and fully register them in your mind.

the seriousness and earnestness of his tone along with his unwavering gaze at you left no room for doubt, he definitely meant every word he said. and you couldn't believe what started as a mere act at first had actually become something real.

the anxious look on your face began to relax as all tension slowly escaped your body, replaced with a wave of joy and relief. you let a few happy tears fall down your crimson, red cheeks as a result of being overwhelmed with emotions, which satoru gently wiped.

"yeah, let's." you hummed, a soft smile made its way onto your face. you wrapped your arms securely around his neck as you stood on your tippy toes, whispering softly into his ears in a moment of genuine intimacy and affection which you had felt for the very first time.

"i love you, satoru." although it wasn't your first time saying those words to him, but this time it felt much different, much more meaningful.

he smiled softly and leaned closer as the distance between you and him was completely gone.

taglist: @sylusdoll @ayrastv @hanaeriin @spkyssn @stunies @kalsplace

[barbiiecams]

the “first” time

drew starkey x younger!reader, smut, haven’t wrote ina minute yall sorry 😣. i also recommend listening to the song while reading.

you were cuddled up into the side of drew while he had his arm around you, keeping you close to him as you watched the third horror movie tonight.

but little did he know, you were practically soaked down there.

it took a lot of self restraint in you not to squirm around, but you were almost about to start.

the view of him with his blank tank top, grey sweats, a little stubble, a buzzed head and that damn gold chain had you pressing your thighs together for dear life.

it was such a random moment for you to be feeling like this too. he always looked good, that was for sure. him in general had that type of affect on you.

but right now had to have been your peak ovulation or something, because you needed him bad.

you started off with a simple and subtle movement by moving your hand from where it laid on his chest, and slowly down to the top of his abs.

no reaction.

after this, you had to come off a little more bold. you repositioned yourself, pushing your face more upwards into his neck so that plush of your butt would be more into his hand instead of the bottom of your spine.

and still, no reaction.

the only type of movement that came from him was him licking his lips. this did not help your case in the slightest.

it was just throbbing at this point. you wanted him to give it to you so bad, knowing he’d still be a little hesitant.

you and drew had been together for 8 months now, and there were still no real intercourse going on.

of course, drew didn’t mind using his fingers on you, and you didn’t mind using your mouth on him.

but you wanted, no, needed the real thing.

it’s not like you were a virgin either. you’ve had some experience before him.

and still with this knowledge, drew still was convinced you weren’t ready for him.

your core was ready for him at this point, “drew,” you finally spoke up.

“hm” he said in that low, raspy tone of his. *reason number 300 why you needed to be dicked down this instant*

in reality tho, you really did wish he would just take a hint. actually having to say what you wanted was just too… confrontational.

“i’m really like…” you didn’t make eye contact with his eyes. you were trying not to make yourself laugh at how embarrassing it was to actually tell him at the same time.

drew on the other hand was just waiting for you to finish your sentence, confused as ever.

“really what?”

you sighed. “i really, really, really, really need you. like really”

the words were finally out, but not direct. that was the most he was gonna get from you.

the realization hit him and he let out chuckle, “okay.” was all he said before he started kissing you.

but you knew what he was gonna do, and that wasn’t just all that you wanted.

you pulled away gently, “no like i actually need you. i don’t want just the fingers.”

he raised his eyebrows at this, the actual realization hitting him this time.

“a- are you sure baby?” he asked with genuine concern.

“i’m positive. i’ve been wanting it for so long.”

he’s rubbing your thigh with his hand. “i don’t know sweetheart… are you positive you want it?”

you almost started whining. “yess, drew. i’m so very serious.”

you could see that drew was very hesitant just thinking about it, but then also at the same time considering it.

“just so you know, don’t think that we have to do all of that to be together. i love you for you-”

as much as you loved your man right back, you were getting a little fed up. “yes i know babe but i really need to feel you right now.”

he smirked at your bold statement. for the first time in 8 whole months of the relationship, drew finally caved in.

“alright. don’t wanna hear it’s ‘too much’ either.”

you didn’t get the chance to respond because his lips were already on yours, shoving his tongue into your mouth and holding the back of your head.

this is what you’ve been waiting for so desperately. that rough side of his.

he’s laying you down completely on your back, focused on getting your pajama pants and panties off at once.

at the same time, you’re trying to get his shirt off. you were so ready to just take all of him.

you fumbled with his own sweats and boxers while he fumbled with your shirt, eventually resulting in the both of you being completely exposed to each other.

he runs his hands down your body, “shit.”

you felt him getting harder and harder on your leg. you could tell he was starting to feel that throbbing sensation himself when he guided your hand onto his cock and made you run him.

and while you were doing that, his hand moved to your own folds and started rubbing too. you couldn’t help the gasps that came out either.

his mouth moved down to your neck, leaving a bunch of hickies that would be pointless even attempting to cover the next day.

deciding to tease him a little, you started rubbing the tip of his cock, leaving him with his mouth slack and letting out breaths right by your ear.

“you ready for this dick, baby?” he says while moving his hard on from the palm of your hand, to rubbing at your entrance.

“mhm!” you moan out.

that’s all he needed. he clearly was just as needy all this time as you were. not too much foreplay and no multiple asks of confirmation. he just slid right in and bottomed out too.

his face scrunched in pleasure, “so tight baby. so fuckin tight.”

and he was so big. you weren’t unfamiliar with his girthy and lengthy cock, but the feeling of it actually inside you was foreign. you almost didn’t know if you could actually take it.

almost. you definitely were not stopping him from ruining your insides.

as the respectful king drew is, he waited for you to give him the “okay” to start moving. all you had to do was nod, and he started with a medium pace.

the moans that were already coming out of you were loud. it was so nice, especially on a night like this to be making love to drew.

he wasn’t silent either. you felt perfect around him. he had to let it be known too with the groans that came from him.

“you feel so good baby, so damn good.” he throws his head back.

“more…” you say, a little breathlessly too.

drew doesn’t even question it. he started hitting it harder and a little faster too.

“anything you want, love. this pussy was made for me baby. all for me.”

you wanted to respond and agree, but before you could, drew let a ball of spit out of his mouth and down to where the two of you connected. you were already very wet, and he already had a lot of precum going on.

and now the sound that was traveling throughout the house? straight pornographic.

“you hear that? you hear that pussy baby?” he says, lips back down onto yours.

but you could barely answer. he was going even faster and harder now, leaving you speechless with just your mouth open and small gasps coming from you.

but his hands move to your neck, “i asked you a question.”

your hands laid on top of his wrists, “yes papa.”

he let out an approving nod at your response. “good girl.”

drew moves his hands from around your neck, and he now has your knees pushed into your chest, with his hands firmly planted on the back of your thighs.

and because of this new position, he’s inside you so deep, and hitting that right spot which makes you scream out.

he smiles at the loud reaction. “is that it, baby? right there?”

“yea!” you whined back as a response.

he lets out a chuckle, and then feels you clench around him which knock him back down even further into the pleasure.

“yea baby, fuck. keep doing that.” he groans.

you weren’t just doing it to do it, tho. you were seconds away from cumming all over him.

“m’gonna cum…” you said, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“yea? go ahead baby. wanna feel it. cum all over this fat cock.”

a few more thrusts later, he got his request. you were cumming for so long on him, and he just kept fucking you through it. fucking you more harder than previously, actually.

he was getting so lost into it, so focused on getting his own release to. and with the faces and noises he’s started to make, you could tell he was almost there too.

“want your cum.” you said to him.

he moved is hands from your thighs and up to your hips, giving you the opportunity to wrap your legs around him and trap him into you.

“don’t play with me.” he warns.

“m’not! need to feel you cum inside me. i don’t care what happens.” you babbled. you definitely cared what would happen, but in the moment nothing else mattered.

“you’re playing a dangerous game, baby. y’know that?”

“i know. i wanna feel you fill me up so bad… make you a daddy.” you spur him on even further, knowing the affect it would have on him.

the grip he had on your hips got insanely tight. it kind of hurt in a way, but you didn’t care knowing that he was about to nut inside of you at any moment.

and just as you clenched around him like you did earlier, you felt him smash his hips into yours, this time keeping them connected together.

he came buckets into you. his hot, long ropes of sperm had you feeling full like it was nobodies business.

and he really needed to take a minute to collect himself. the both of you were gasping for air, him still inside you for a good minute after.

when he pulled out, you felt like jelly and so did drew. he laid back down himself, pulling your body into his.

“i’ve been waiting for that.” he spoke.

there was apart of you that kind of didn’t believe that. “you kept saying i wasn’t ready.” you chuckled.

“i know, bad mistake. i almost proposed to you halfway through.”

you laugh at him and snuggle up more into him.

he playfully taps your stomach. "we're gonna have to get you on birth control baby." he says, referring to the comment about giving him a baby earlier.

"i know." you giggle. "i kinda like the excitement tho i dont know."

he shakes his head, half jokingly and half serious. "these youngins"

you slap his chest and roll your eyes, "oh shut up unc." this makes him let out a laugh too.

the movie that was playing in the background was long over, and you both still had yet to realize netflix was asking if you guys were still watching.

[astralnymphh]

♱: a/n: i don't know much about how prison works in piltover (because we did not recieve any details or storyline regarding that era) so this is just for make-believe funsies! need to be vi's prison wife rn.. mdni.

being involved with the least-upstanding convict, violet, has its pros and its cons—but one outweighs the other. on the more heart-pounding side of being dubbed “cupcake” by her, with no ounce of sweetness or cherried disposition to owe you it, there are moments that make you wish you were a good girl.

made you wish you'd met outside prison.

pros: violating the rules got you in here, you and vi have that in common. which, in all cases, facilitated your time together; you can break them with someone else. freerunning is an all-time favorite. sprinting across ledges and vaulting over light-seeking crevices to adjourn—or escape—is your shared idea of freedom. though, before midnight hit, you both made sure to be spotless of adventure, and in bed. another pro: it was always hers.

your thumb presses at the ink-job on her neck, and she bites your shoulder with a grunt, eliciting something in return. subtle, pleasurable pain pulls through the godless corners of your neck. “dammit, vi. if we get caught because of you..” a dopey giggle is pressed into your pulse point, it tickles. you swallow it. “i can't get in trouble again.”

a cold spot of spit is left to evaporate, vi moving from your cartoid to—well, you assume—spare an answer, but she shuts your lips with hers. she spends a moment of silent mouthing, tugging, licking, grinding the seam over her groin into your clit, to shun the claim. it almost pulled more than a moan: a buck, a bite, or a slap if you felt generous. so, you nudge her off. and violet—of course—eyes you with low-browed, puppy-eyed concern and confusion—like she didn't hear you before. for once during your time here, your wrist genuinely ached to slap this idiot you call your prison-girlfriend. “i need to be on fucking gold-standard behaviour. we can do this when we're both out.”

you slip and inch out from under—just an inch, before fingers you're most familiar with, inside and out, tug your core back to where she wants it to belong. striking, baby-blues hold you in that place. “stay,” her voice delicately cracks; she tries to keep you near with a soothing tone. her grip is tight, while her demand is too soft and sentimental to not laugh. regardless, these hands worked some magic on you—considering one feathered touch to the inside of your thigh, and a whine escapes. “trust me, they're going to find a reason to keep you in here. the least you could do is be a good girl while you are.” vi's crass statements and perversions are the only con you could think of: they get you fucking wet—too wet to forget.

[moonlitwitchdaisy]

we listen and we don’t judge (?)

“Are we really doing this?”

Your husband’s reluctant voice pulled your attention away from the phone you were adjusting on the table.

“Come on, Ken, this will be so much fun. Besides, I know you’ve been curious about the kinds of books I read.” You focused on getting the angle right again after responding.

“Sweetheart, I can already tell just by looking at the covers when you leave them around or by reading the blurbs on the back while helping you carry them at the bookstore,” he replied, cutting you off before you could protest further. “And don’t you dare try to convince me that they hold actual literary value.”

You rolled your eyes and muttered under your breath while adjusting the timer for the TikTok video. “The moment there’s a bit of romance or sex involved, you immediately assume I’m reading nonsense. For the record, I’m not ashamed of what I read. I’m proud of it.” You adjusted your hair in the camera and pulled the stack of books closer.

“Alright, are you ready, love?” You turned to your husband with an exaggerated smile, clearly brimming with excitement.

Nanami let out a deep sigh. “I think so. Before showing the books, I’m supposed to say, ‘We listen, and we don’t judge,’ right?”

Still grinning, you pressed a big kiss to his cheek. “Yep. Oh, and if you’re feeling ugly, I can put a filter on for you.” You loved teasing him. Nanami wasn’t exactly a TikTok expert—he’d only just discovered that people made videos on it. It had taken countless attempts to convince him to do this trend with you. After he firmly said “no” each time, you’d sulk in defeat. But because your husband could never actually say no to you, he eventually came to you and said, “Do you still want to make that video about your smutty books?” You were so shocked that you’d practically jumped into his lap, shouting “Yes!” loud enough to scare the neighbors. Even though he didn’t want to, Nanami couldn’t care less about his own embarrassment as long as it made you happy.

“I don’t think I’ll need it,” he replied.

Of course, he didn’t. Even on his worst days, your husband was the embodiment of perfection.

“God, you’re so sexy. I can’t wait to show the world who I’m married to.” You kissed his cheek again before reaching to start the recording.

As soon as you hit the button, his blank expression made it nearly impossible for you to suppress your laughter. You still managed to start speaking.

“We listen…” You paused, motioning for him to join in. Nanami rolled his eyes but played along.

“And we don’t judge,” he added in a monotone voice.

You grabbed the first book beside you and held it up to the camera.

“Alright, this is one of the most famous and dirtiest books on BookTok. The main character’s parents die, and she goes to live with her uncle and cousins.”

Nanami stared at the book cover, which read Credence. It looked normal—innocuous, even.

He couldn’t have been more wrong...

“Don’t tell me—” he started, but you cut him off.

“And she sleeps with all of them. One by one.” You bit your lip to keep from laughing as you glanced at your husband’s wide-eyed expression.

“Oh… alright.”

Suppressing your giggles, you repeated, “We listen, and we don’t judge,” before moving on to the next book. This time, you held up a dark romance that had caused quite a stir online.

Nanami immediately recognized it. “You just finished this one,” he pointed out.

Beaming at him, you nodded. You’d only recently completed Haunting Adeline, and there hadn’t been a single scene that didn’t shock you. “In this one, the main character is a writer, and she has a stalker.”

“Sweetheart…” Nanami’s tone suggested he was rapidly losing patience.

“Shhh! We’re listening, not judging. Anyway, the guy is obsessively in love with her. One day, she brings another man home and hooks up with him—while the stalker watches everything.” You could barely keep a straight face while recounting the plot.

“And?” Nanami prompted, eyebrows furrowing as if he regretted asking.

You couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing. His horrified expression only made it worse. “Of course, he gets mad and chops off the guy’s hand, leaving it on her doorstep as a warning.” Tears streamed down your face from laughing so hard as Nanami stared at you like you’d completely lost your mind.

“And people say romance is dead…”

“Hey! He only did it because he loves her. Zade is definitely a green flag,” you argued.

“Zade?” Nanami raised an eyebrow at you, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

“Romantic stalker,” you replied matter-of-factly.

He rolled his eyes, rested his head in his hand, and muttered, “We listen, and we don’t judge,” with far more sarcasm than necessary. You chimed in late, too busy laughing.

The next book you held up was Birthday Girl.

“This one’s by the same author as the first book I showed you.”

A small smile tugged at Nanami’s lips. “Who does our main character sleep with this time? Her stepdad?”

You snorted. His dry humor was making it impossible to keep a straight face. “Close! Her ex-boyfriend’s dad.”

Nanami finally cracked, chuckling along with you. “So close. I assume you must really love this author.”

Feigning deep thought, you replied, “Hmm… Penelope is definitely great at writing sex scenes.” You reached for another book as the two of you recited in sync, “We listen, and we don’t judge.”

“This one’s kind of similar to the others. The main character is around 20—I think. She’s been in love with her dad’s best friend for years, and—”

“Let me guess: she sleeps with him,” Nanami interrupted.

“Yep, but in a more ethical way than the others.”

Nanami laughed loudly. “How is that more ethical?”

You launched into an explanation, as serious as if you were presenting a thesis. “Her dad and his best friend run a law firm together. After her dad gets into an accident and falls into a coma, the company is at risk. Also she’s not old enough to access her trust fund, so she marries his best friend to save it.”

He stared at you, slack-jawed. The fact that you could recount this with such sincerity amazed him. “Please tell me the company survives.”

“Of course it does! And her dad wakes up, too. Plus, by the end of the book, they have twins!”

The soft affection in his gaze was quickly replaced by something darker, more primal—the look he gave you whenever he wanted you.

“Hmm… I like that. Do you want to test if we can have twins too?”

You completely forgot about the video. The book in your hands slipped onto your lap as heat pooled low in your belly.

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

Nanami stood up and hoisted you over his shoulder with ease, giving your ass a firm smack. “If I’m a little rough during the test, I trust you won’t judge me, my love.”

The trend may have been left unfinished but you absolutely didn't judge your husband during the test.

a little note: i’m ovulating, so i just had to write something like this. i'm not sure, but i might also do a version with gojo…

all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.

[devotedlyandrogynousyouth]

Love your DC content!! Can you write something olderbf bruce becoming a parent with younger reader? Or bestfriend jason finding out reader is dating dick?

Thank you 💜

Omg absolutely!! Tysm for the request and I definitely want to write the one for Jason at some point in the future, buttt for now, because its 2 AM, you'll get some OlderBF! Bruce :)

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne Becoming a Parent

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who finds out that you're pregnant before you even know. To be fair, it didn't take the world's greatest detective to notice the menstrual products in your master bathroom that haven't been touched in the past two months or so.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who makes you feel silly for ever being nervous about telling him that you're pregnant, even though he's freaking out a little on the inside.

Your day was long. Long enough that your back had been aching and your feet and ankles were sore. Hell, you could barely keep your eyes open while standing, how the hell could you exoect yourself to stay awake while laying down on one of the lavish couches in Wayne Manor's library? But, in the blink of an eye (literally), you were awoken by Bruce carefully taking off your shoes. Had you really just passed out on the spot? Pregnancy symptoms must've been hitting you a little harder than you thought...

"Any morning sickness today?" He asks casually as he finishes taking off your other shoe before pressing a kiss to your knee.

"No... It's been alright." You answer without thinking too much about the question. But after a few moments of relishing in the heavenly feeling of Bruce rubbing your swollen feet, the question clicks. "Wait, I can explain-"

"And so can the pads and tampons in the bathroom that haven't been used in two months." He answers before you can finish, his tone as casual as if he were talking about the rainy Gotham weather. "Were you going to tell me?" Bruce asks as he continues his minstrations on your sore feet, his thumbs pressing into your aching arches.

"Of course I was." You answer without hesitation, because you knew you could never keep a secret from Bruce for too long. He was far too observant for that. Yet another difference between him and the younger guys you've dated. "I just couldn't find a good time."

"Look at me, sweetheart." His voice is soft as he tilts your chin towards him, gently stroking your jaw in such a soothing manner that you may just fall asleep again. "Any time is a good time to talk to me about something like this, alright? I don't care how many work meetings I have or how late it is; you are always my top priority."

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who doesn't expect you to keep the baby, nor does he let you go through making a decision on your own. By the time you hit your third month, the two of you had talked maybe three to four times about what would be best for you, because you are the most important person in his life.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who is immediately at your side for every will and command from that moment on. He knows that this is your first child and just how hard the pregnancy will be on your body, so he refuses to risk anything. You need water? He's already there with a glass and small snack for you. You need to use the bathroom on one of the rare nights that he's home? He's already helping you out of bed and giving you long, tired hugs as soon as you stand before leading you to the master bathroom.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who starts taking a few more nights off whenever he can from his patrols just to be there for you and the tiny life inside your womb. He trusts that Dick can handle Gotham for a few nights on his own every once in a while, for your sake.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who still hasn't told you about his double life as a vigilante, but finally starts considering it. As soon as he started looking at rings, he knew he'd have to come clean eventually. He needed you in his life far more than he thought he'd ever need anyone or anything.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who doesn't let the paparazzi near you at all throughout your pregnancy. In fact, he's tried to keep you inside as much as possible to avoid them, since the two of you never made a public announcement. It was for your safety as much as it was for his sanity.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who is right there as soon as the contractions start (after his initial shock and internal panic attack). He doesn't leave your side for a moment, not even when he's certain you've fractured something in his hand from how hard you're gripping it.

There was almost a swarm of motion around you in the private hospital room you were set up in. Your contractions were coming in strong, and so was your grip on Bruce's hand. "Bruce, I can't do this," well, its a little late for that, "it's too much." You're practically sobbing at this point as you feel the foreboding pressure of an oncoming attraction in your uterus.

"Yes, you can." Bruce is sitting in a chair right next to your bed, the guardrail down while he has one arm around your shoulders and his free hand being crushed by your grip. "I'm right here. You've already made it this far, sweetheart."

And, for a moment, you almost believe him. Until another contraction comes rattling through your body, this one far stronger than the rest you've experienced. "I cant, I can't, I can't, I can't." Is all you can cry out in utter agony, your knuckles turned white as you grip Bruce's hand.

"Do you have any idea how close you are to being done?" He asks as he gently rubs your shoulder, trying not to show just how painful your grip on his hand is. "Five more minutes, alright? Five more minutes of suffering for a lifetime of happiness. Do you think you can handle that for me, sweetheart?"

And, despite your body feeling like its burning and being torn in half, you nod. In what feels like mere moments later, the sound of shrilling cries fill the delivery room. Bruce swears it's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who, for the first time in literal years, cries while holding your infant. His face is red, cheeks are tear-stained, and his beautiful blue eyes are puffy and watery: the same beautiful blue eyes that your baby has.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who is pampering you in affection and attention for the entire time you're in the hospital. Every single craving you've had but couldn't satisfy for the past nine months, he already has brought to you in bed.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who, when the baby is taken by nurses for examinations a day or two after the birth, shows you a ring. A beautiful, beautiful ring that fits your left hand perfectly and shimmers in the bright hospital lights. Your engagement ring.

OlderBF! Bruce Wayne who has a private, simple wedding with you, Alfred, his adoptive children, and your beautiful newborn. The press was too risky to deal with for a public wedding, and Bruce wanted those special moments to just be for your family, not for the media's prying eyes.

OlderHusband! Bruce Wayne who is there for as many milestones as he can be. First steps? He's got the camera. Their first words? "Dada." Their baby teeth coming in? He's already bought those little tooth-shaped containers for when they fall out in a couple of years.

OlderHusband! Bruce Wayne who always knew it was you. You were the best thing to have ever happened in his life, and he refused to mess that up. He knew that, eventually, he would have to tell you about his double life as the Caped Crusader, but he'd cross that bridge when he got to it.

Masterlist

[hxltic]

goin limp in könig’s arms nsfw

at first he’s a little frightened with the feeling of your already soft body in his large hands going even softer. Unnaturally soft. It was no question he was a large man, and by this point you two had been going a few rounds, so after you begged for his merciless side that only seeped from him on the battlefield, he’d obliged after forcing himself to forget about his personal feelings for your pleasure. Your back seemed to be stuck in an arch, with your hair thrown in different directions where the pillow was supposed to be. It was elsewhere on the floor.

There was a rough grip on your hips as he pulled you down onto his length, keeping his thrusts short and deep with whatever momentum you gave him. It was significantly easier before your eyes rolled back and your hands sought refuge on the headboard behind you, which he has now recognized as pleasure, along with incoherent babbling. You wished you could see the way his thick, toned thighs move back and forth for every single one of his sharp thrusts or hear the heavy german-accented pleasure fall from his lips, but you can’t. Instead, you could feel it. Instead, you could only see darkness or the ceiling through slim vision. Instead, you could faintly hear every time the headboard hit the wall, despite it being hard enough to create dents in the material and rattle the building.

“Kö-König,” you’d attempt, and once your babbling got the least bit coherent (more than just his name of course), he’d grunt back, “Ja Liebe, I’m here.” Even if you didn’t completely understand him all the time yet, you’d come to learn the most important words. You never actually did give him a response though. Just a long, sultry whine.

He chuckled breathlessly at you. Where you two meet, there’s a wet stickiness, one that would feel icky to you if you were mentally present. Everything was red. Ass, cheeks, and both your lips. Your throat would be too, but König just cannot get over how much bigger he is than you, and he has yet to comply because of the thought of it being too hard and genuinely hurting. Even if you had a nonverbal safe code.

But once it seemed your body shut down completely for his use, he couldn’t deny the primal urge to ruin you while he could. He had time to be upset over his lack of self control later. One hand of his could almost wrap under both knees, but he uses two anyway, effectively rolling you upwards and folding you in half. He slid himself back in once up on his haunches.

Your knees were now located at your breasts with his arms encasing you to cradle your face in his hands. It was a large contrast to the way he was plowing into the perfect spot, balls deep inside you, making your sounds louder and much more luscious. Even if you wanted to move your legs, or anything else for that matter, the only thing that could really move were your feet, while everything else was held strong against the bed or stuck by his massive body.

Your fingers wrap around his wrists coming in as he gazed into you with an expression that screams “look at me.”

[kaisacobra]

I See You - Tara Carpenter

Part 2 of I Dare You

Summary: At one of Amber's infamous parties, Tara's feelings get more and more complicated as she starts getting to know you.

Warnings: Fem!Painter!Reader, slow burn, mentions of sex, alcohol and partying, minor angst, non canon/high school

w.c: 6.9k

So, the glitch in the matrix seemed to be lasting much longer than you anticipated.

You did your best to forget the interaction you'd had with Tara and, honestly, that hadn't been such a difficult task. You still had a life, after all, and the rest of your day was divided into making preparations for the volunteering you'd be doing at the hospital during the weekend, studying and trying to make any progress on your painting.

Unfortunately, the last task proved itself to be annoyingly impossible, no matter how hard you tried. You'd tried everything from throwing random brushstrokes at the canvas to staring at the blank space while upside down in your bed, which filled your brain with blood but not with ideas.

There came a point when you had to admit defeat, at least for a day, and you picked up your phone to try to distract yourself from what seemed to be your greatest artistic failure. Your plans were to doomscroll through all possible social media and try to get the slightest bit of inspiration, but your attention was grabbed by a text notification coming from your Instagram.

From the username, it was clear that the text had been from none other than Tara Carpenter, which made your heart race a little in response. Your profile was a bit hard to find because there were no photos of you, which meant that Tara specifically had to look for you for a while. What's more, your profile was basically an exhibition of your artwork and the idea of someone other than your friends and teacher looking at all your projects made you a little anxious.

The texts themselves contained nothing much, apart from Tara apologizing for taking your pen (which you didn't even remember lending, to be honest) and then trying to strike up a conversation by asking you about Freddy vs Leatherface. Even so, noticing that she'd made an effort to keep on talking to you left you swooning.

You answered, of course. It would be rude to leave someone on read, wouldn't it? And besides, you were already planning to procrastinate anyway, so why not be nice and talk to Tara for a few minutes?

Who cares if minutes became hours, right?

And when school started the next day, you felt lighter, somehow. To your relief, no one seemed to remember your disastrous stumble the day before (probably because few people remembered you in general) and so you didn't have to deal with any giggles or weird looks.

You were in the middle of getting some books out of your locker when a familiar pen levitated into your field of vision. Your gaze followed the tanned arm that was holding it and you were met with long eyelashes and a sly smile.

“I'm a woman of my word! Here's your pen.” Tara raised the object towards you, making a funny reference to the text she had sent you the day before.

You rolled your eyes in amusement, although you couldn't hold the expression for long due to the corners of your lips lifting involuntarily. You took the small item from her hand and quickly put it in your bag. “Thanks, it's good to know you're not a thief. Did you at least bring one pen today?”

She understood the light, false accusatory tone in your voice and raised her hand, showing two fingers raised in a V. “Haha. Just so you know, I brought two today.”

It was amazing how instantaneous and right that conversation felt, almost as if it was the kind of thing you did all the time and not for the first time. Talking to Tara was surprisingly easy and you could see at least a friendship blooming between you in the near future.

If it weren't for the fact that she hangs out with the most insufferable people in the world, of course.

The reminder of Tara's group of friends hit you like a thunderbolt and made your chest ache for some reason. The words of both Ethan and Mindy echoed in your head, warning you to be careful, but a large chunk of your mind also insisted on reminding you of Anika's more positive opinion on the topic.

You turned to your locker again, pretending you were looking for something that didn't even exist. “I could never manage with just one pen.” You added politely, not wanting to leave Tara's joke unanswered just because your thoughts were getting muddled.

“I know. Artist and all, aren't you?” The girl nodded and you could see out of the corner of your eye as she leaned on the locker next to you, crossing her arms while still looking at you with a thoughtful expression. “Hey, don't you feel like going to a party tonight?”

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as you processed what she had said, but Tara remained completely unbothered by your side. As far as you knew, the Carpenter girl didn't usually throw parties, but Amber Freeman did, and she'd instituted a very specific rule about them ever since she'd thrown the first one during your freshman year:

Invite only. No losers allowed.

And, as far as you knew, in Amber's opinion you were included in the word “losers”.

“I don't think so.” You shook your head. “Amber's throwing this party, isn't she? I don't have an invitation and I don't even like parties that much.”

Tara laughed out loud at that, causing a few heads to turn in your direction and your cheeks to heat up like coals. “I'm inviting you, ain't I? and seriously! I've never even seen you at the boring school parties, how are you supposed to know if you like parties or not without ever having tried them?”

Okay, you weren't expecting Tara to rebut your arguments or be so insistent about your presence. Was it getting warmer or was it just your impression? “But... I don't even know anyone who's going, I'll probably just stand in the corner the whole night. And also, I have an appointment the next day, I can't, like, go wild...”

Unexpectedly, Tara let out an even louder laugh, this time even wiping away a tear that ran down her cheek. “Go wild? You're hilarious.” She controlled her breathing, still keeping a bright smile on her face. “You don't have to drink if you don't want to, no one's going to force you. And about the being alone part, you can invite those friends of yours. Amber won't mind, she wants more people at her parties anyway and she refuses to call sophomores and below.”

You looked at her with surprise and suspicion. Invite your friends? Did Tara remember that your friends included Mindy Meeks-Martin? Like, basically Amber's number one enemy, Mindy Meeks-Martin?

Tara finally noticed your wary expression and sighed, uncrossing her arms and raising both hands in a peaceful gesture. “Look, Amber said I could invite nice people and I think you're nice. She'll be busy with other things anyway, she probably won't even notice that your friends are there.”

You bit your lower lip, considering your options. On the one hand, parties weren't exactly your natural habitat and you still had your doubts about whether or not you were welcome there. On the other hand, Tara had been so kind to you lately and... for some reason, you wanted to explore it a little further.

“Can I give you an answer later? I'll ask my friends if they're going.” That's what you decided to answer, choosing to leave your conflicting future in the hands of your dear companions.

Tara nodded a yes and complemented the action with a shrug. “Okay. But even if they decide not to go, I think you should give it a chance.”

Suddenly, the bell for the first period echoed in the corridors, waking you both up to the fact that you had to be in your classrooms in a few seconds. As lockers closed and teenagers ran to avoid being late, Tara lazily turned around and started walking away, ending your interaction.

But you didn't want it to end so soon. In a impulsive act, you raised your voice. “What should I wear?”

Tara turned as soon as she heard you and her eyes slowly traveled up and down your body as a smile worthy of the Cheshire cat broke out on her face. “Wear something pretty! But I think you were already going to do that anyway.”

System crash. Your brain shortcutted. Did Tara had just...? No, she couldn't have possibly... checked you out? Were you seeing things?

As Tara's back got further and further down the corridor, you ran back to your classroom, muttering on the way, “God, I'm really not your strongest soldier.”

_

“I need to ask you something.”

You were extremely nervous. Your fingers kept drumming on the table and your brain was desperately trying to think of a way to convince your friends to A) go to Amber's party with you and B) not think you were out of your mind.

Tara's words (and her actions, by the way) really made you consider that crazy possibility. On any other occasion, you would have denied it as quickly as possible and then run away, but you were finding that Tara Carpenter could be extremely convincing.

Mindy swallowed a piece of the sandwich she was holding, making a dismissive gesture with her hands. “I’ve told you before, we have no interest in a throuple.”

Sitting next to her with her feet propped up on her girlfriend's lap, Anika raised an eyebrow and smiled playfully. “Who says we don't?”

“What?!” Both Mindy and Ethan shouted, although the girl clearly got the joke and was just going along with it, while the boy seemed really bothered by the idea. You and Anika let out a loud chuckle and you smiled at her in appreciation, knowing that she had joked around just to make you less nervous.

With the mood more relaxed, you took a deep breath and said the words in rapid fire, fearing that they would never come out if you lingered too long. “Tara invited me to Amber's party and she said I could invite you guys. Would you go with me? Please?”

“Absolutely not.” Mindy quickly denied your request, putting on an angry expression. “And why would you want to go to a party like that, anyway?”

“That's right, only assholes go to that kind of thing.” Ethan agreed with the girl, looking equally annoyed by your suggestion.

Your eyes turned to Anika in a plea for help and she nodded almost imperceptibly. Opening her famous warm smile that reached her eyes, she grabbed Mindy's arm and pouted. “Pleeeeeeeeeeeease, I've always wanted to go to a party like this. We can just go and laugh at people being dumb.”

“We can laugh at people being dumb at school literally all the time, I don't need to be at Amber Freeman's house for that.” Mindy objects, but it's obvious that she's already starting to give in to her girlfriend's charms by the way her face looks more peaceful.

Anika looked in your direction and you understood that you would have to stay in that ping pong game of arguments until the other two gave in. “Amber won't even notice we were there! Tara said there would be too many people for her to handle.”

“Aaaand,” Anika added, moving even closer to Mindy, almost sitting on her lap on that narrow wooden bench. “Our theme for the A.V club project is literally young and reckless! What's more young and reckless than Amber's parties?! We'll get some great material if we go!”

Mindy considered the proposal for long seconds that left you on the edge of your seat. You knew Ethan would probably go if you all did, so it was really all in the Meeks-Martin girl's hands.

Finally, she sighed and rolled her eyes, slipping an arm around her girlfriend's shoulders. “Okay, I'll go. But I’m warning you, if Amber even looks in my direction, I won't answer for myself.”

Anika squealed, grabbing Mindy's face and pulling her close to kiss her cheek, which clearly got the girl flustered even though she only replied with an “alright, alright”. You smiled at this, feeling a mixture of amusement and relief at knowing that your friends had agreed to embark with you on this madness.

Ethan hadn't necessarily agreed yet, but when you looked in his direction, he sighed dramatically, so that his brown curls moved with the wind. “If you're both going, I think I'll go to keep y/n company. So she won't be a third wheel and won't be bothered by idiots, you know?”

You thanked the boy with a pat on the shoulder and his smile automatically widened. Across the table, Mindy laughed. “Oh, I don't think you have to worry about y/n getting third wheeled, Ethan. Tara invited her, did you forget?”

“Holy shit. I have to tell Tara.” You remembered your conversation with the girl earlier, rushing into her DMs and completely ignoring the jokes and teasing from the girls in front of you.

You just hoped they could also ignore your completely flustered behavior.

 _

We're going!

A simple message had made Tara's day a thousand times better. She'd forgotten how insufferable Amber could be on party days, as well as the fact that Liv had spent the whole day acting like a pick-me-girl because Chad had been spending much more time on his phone than with her lately.

She'd put her best Casanova act into play when she'd spoken to you earlier, but somehow your sense of humor made her break character and just act like herself, which was something she couldn't remember doing so freely in a long time.

Of course she had appealed for a bit of her charm at the end, but she just couldn't hold back when you had opened up such a perfect opening for her to flirt.

“You should really thank me, you know that?” A familiar voice whispered close to her ear and soon pale arms wrapped around her neck in a grip that bordered on uncomfortable. “I basically handed you your challenge on a platter by letting you invite those weirdos.”

Tara was annoyed by the comment and she quickly disentangled herself from the hug, bumping into Amber and her devilish expression. The shorter girl huffed, fixing her clothes and hair as if that was the real reason she had walked away.

At least this time she didn't turn red. That was progress.

“Shut up. If anything happens, it'll be my merit.” Tara slung her bag over her shoulder, walking along with Amber and the other students to the exit after another tiring Friday of classes.

The taller girl didn't even mind Tara's protests, shaking her head as if she didn't believe the freckled girl’s words. “Anyway, at least you'll be busy while I'm doing someone and won't be bothering me the next day.”

They walked out the door and fortunately Tara could already see Sam's car parked not far away. The girl turned her face in the opposite direction of her friend’s, pretending it was due to the sun and hoping Amber hadn't seen the pained expression on her face. “Whatever. See you later, Freeman.”

“See you later, Carpenter!” Amber shouted back, but Tara didn't turn around to wave goodbye and kept her head down until she reached the old sedan her mother used to drive. At least that was until she was no longer sober enough to hold a steering wheel.

Inside the car, Sam raised her head when she heard the door open and close after Tara got into the passenger seat. She started to back out of the parking lot, occasionally glancing at her younger sister who seemed to be upset beside her. “So... how was school?”

“Don't fucking start.” Tara muttered, putting on her headphones in a quick move to isolate herself from the world and from an older sister who suddenly wanted to be there for her after abandoning her alone with an alcoholic for a year.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head on the window, trying not to think about how Amber really got on her nerves sometimes, or think about the guilt that was starting to rise up inside her after being rude to Sam for nothing. Why couldn't her mind stop working for just one minute?

But as she tried to make her own thoughts go blank, a pleasant memory surfaced. Tara remembered your conversation earlier, the way you could understand each other's moods and how genuinely happy she was that you were going to the party for her.

Maybe, if she just kissed you and hid the real reason behind everything, you could even be friends after all. Maybe she could even convince Amber that you were a nice person, so that you could hang out with them.

Of course, these were only wishful thinking, but Tara wanted peace and, at the moment, the utopian idea of having you around gave her that exact feeling. 

_

“Okay, now give me a spin.”

You turned in your place at Anika's request, being mindful to not to get out of the sight of your phone camera, which was leaning awkwardly on your desk. Your room was a mess of clothes scattered all over the place, highlighting your intense search to decide on the perfect outfit to wear for the party.

“So?” You asked your friend, who had her attention split between the video call and her own elaborate makeup.

Anika seemed to finish her analysis on your look while you were about to start trembling with anxiety. You trusted the girl's fashion sense more than anything and you swore you could have started crying if she said that your outfit wasn't good. Fortunately, her response was a positive nod and a satisfied grin. “Oh, you look so cute!”

You looked down, once again staring at the outfit you had chosen, which was a comfortable one, but neat enough to let people know that you had put some effort into dressing up.

Receiving compliments had never exactly been your strong suit, but as much as you felt awkward about Anika's comment, you couldn't get Tara's recommendation out of your head. “Yeah, but do I look pretty?”

“Of course you do! Cute, pretty, it's all the same!”

You frowned, still feeling annoyed. Fashion had never exactly been your forte and that fact was your Achilles heel at the moment, since you still weren't convinced that “cute” and “pretty” were the same thing. In your opinion, Tara seemed to be the type who liked pretty girls, but not cute girls.

Or maybe it didn't make any sense at all and you were just going crazy at the thought of spending the next few hours in a house full of people you either didn't know or didn't like. Besides, when did you start caring about the kind of girl Tara liked?

“I can hear your thoughts from here, you know?” Anika called out, making your head snap out of that internal cycle of overthinking. “Is this all to impress Tara?”

“Ugh.” You grunted, flopping onto your bed oblivious to the dozens of clothes that were crumpling under your body. “No? Maybe? I don't know.”

You felt ashamed of the situation, even though you knew Anika wasn't the judgmental type. Your feelings were still confusing and you definitely didn't feel ready to admit that you thought about Tara more than you should, but there was also no way to hide something that was so obvious.

“Hey, it's okay, you know? Actually, I'm glad to see you're interested in someone.” Anika replied kindly, which made you work up the courage to sit up, staring at your friend's genuine expression through the screen. “I know you're worried about Mindy and all, but Chad's always nice to me when I go to their house and it was super easy to do some school work with Wes for our calc class.”

She continued, “What I mean is that Tara could still be a nice girl for you, no matter how much there's this Romeo and Juliet thing going on between our groups.”

“It's not that. I mean, it is a bit, but also...” You sighed, trying hard not to run your hands through your hair and make it look messy. “... I don't think she'd be interested in me. I mean, she's been giving me these signals but, I don't know, maybe she does it with everyone?”

Anika tsked, shaking her head and giving you a playful smile. “I've never heard of Tara being a player.”

You groaned again, turning your face away as if the act would somehow stop you from feeling so flustered. Anika laughed in response. “Just enjoy the moment! You already know she's the straight forward type, don't you? If she wants something from you, I'm sure she'll get it.”

“Anika!” You shrieked, appalled by what she was inferring. Your entire face seemed to be engulfed in lava as your friend laughed even louder at the clear shock you expressed.

“What?! The world needs more people like that, you know? That's why I'm going to take the initiative to run away to a corner with Mindy at the first opportunity and-.”

“Ew! No! Stop talking! Please, you're my mother figures!”

_

The walls of the house seemed to shake under Tara's fingers as she leaned on it, making her way to the bathroom in slow, crooked steps as she cursed quietly at the amount of people crowding into the hallway.

They were screaming with joy, slurring the lyrics of the extremely loud song that was playing on the huge speakers in the living room, echoing throughout the house and possibly the entire block. Thank God, Wes had already taken care of his mother.

Tara groaned the whole way, feeling like pushing away all the sweaty, alcohol-altered people who bumped into her shoulder, unable to see properly through the colored lights that made the place look like a nightclub. She sighed in relief when she finally found the bathroom, opening the door and locking herself inside without caring about the noise it made.

She turned on the lights and leaned on the sink with both hands, leaning over to look at her reflection in the mirror, with tired eyes and her bangs sticking to her forehead from sweat. God, how could she have been so shaken up by a measly hour of partying? She used to be able to take a lot more.

But she also knew exactly what had led up to it and the smell of alcohol on her lips wouldn't let her lie. She thought she was going to have more fun, but her evening became much more difficult after she saw Amber stick her tongue down the throats of at least three people right in front of her, making a point of giving Tara a thumbs-up afterwards, almost as if she was trying to annoy her friend on purpose.

Tara tried everything to make herself less bothered. She'd danced, she'd watched some people play 7 minutes in heaven, she'd even flirted with a few people just for fun, but in the end, what had stopped her blood from pounding furiously in her ears had been the beers stocked in Amber's basement fridge.

She stopped after the third one, after she felt tipsy enough. She didn't want to be her mother's daughter, who didn't know her own limits and fell asleep on the living room carpet because she didn't have the strength to walk to her own room. And the drinks helped for a while, but now that the sweat had evaporated the effect of the alcohol on herself, her headache left her one scream or punch away from going insane.

Tara splashed water on her face, oblivious to the fact that her makeup was getting smudged or her bangs got even wetter. At this point, she no longer cared about much other than surviving the rest of the night.

Once she had pulled herself together, she sighed and left the bathroom, expecting to be dragged into the living room by the crowd of teenagers dancing and jumping around like wild animals, but instead she ended up being bumped in the opposite direction, almost knocking her off balance.

“Oh my God, I'm sorry!” Gentle hands rushed to hold Tara up before she fell and she followed the length of the arms with her eyes until she bumped into a familiar face. It was you, who was now staring at Tara with a frown. The girl couldn't help herself and looked you up and down, mentally appreciating the way you were dressed.

You quickly took your hands off Tara's shoulders, rubbing them anxiously. The girl felt a tug in her chest as she remembered that she had invited you and you most likely should have spent all this time looking for her, while she was drinking and whining about not having the attention of the biggest bitch in Woodsboro. Drunk and abandoning people? Wow, the Carpenter women's genes never fail.

“I didn't realize you'd already arrived.” Tara broke the awkward silence, mentally thanking you for being upstairs and being able to talk without having to shout over the hip hop track playing in the living room.

You looked away, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Yeah. It's been a while.”

Tara nodded, feeling a little disappointed in herself as she realized that you had clearly been annoyed by her absence. She tried to strike up a conversation again, wishing she could somehow put a smile on your face. “What brings you upstairs? Not enjoying the energy of the party?”

“I was looking for the bathroom.” You sighed, hugging your elbows. “Actually, I was more looking to escape to the bathroom, because I was planning to hide there until my friends decided to leave.”

“You really don’t like parties, huh?” Tara joked, but the smile on her face hardened when she realized that you hadn't laughed along with her.

Tara felt terrible. Sure, you'd only had a few interactions before, but all of them had proved that you could understand each other easily. Now, Tara didn't know if it was the party, if it was her or something else that had made you look so uncomfortable, but she was determined to make it up to you for being an idiot.

“You know, I think I have a better hiding place than a small bathroom.” She leaned towards you, as if she was sharing a secret. “Are you interested?”

You scrutinized the girl's face and she couldn't help but be disappointed that you didn't even seem to be affected by your proximity as you usually would. Your arms were crossed as you felt suspicious of her offer. “Don't you have to go back to the party?”

Tara made a dismissive gesture with her hand and started walking down the large hallway, looking for a specific room. “Nah, I've been to so many of these that it's lost it’s spark to me.”

Technically, it wasn't a lie. Tara was sick of that party and she'd love to have a distraction from the fact that Amber was now probably at her body count number 100 and Tara wasn't talking about dead people. But then again, she felt strangely committed to making you have at least a little fun and she really liked your company.

Maybe it was just because she felt bad for having invited you in the first place. Yeah, that must be it.

She opened Amber's bedroom door, barging in without hesitation and heading straight for the window, opening it all the way. Behind her, you seemed slightly alarmed by the idea of simply invading the personal space of a girl who could make your life a living hell. “Uh…”

But before you could really protest, Tara put one leg out of the window, glancing in your direction with a playful smile. “Trust me. You’re not scared, are you?”

“I’m not scared, but trusting you? After you invited me to a party you’re trying to escape?” you replied, making Tara's smile widen as she realized you were starting to open up again. “And what are you doing at the window, Rapunzel?”

Tara chuckled, pointing your way. “Wait and see.”

In a swift motion, she raised her hands to the roof platform above her head, pushing off Amber's window with her feet to gain enough momentum to pull herself up with extra effort from her arms. Still holding onto the edge, Tara hung upside down, looking at you through the window with her bangs sticking up. “So, are you coming or not?”

You snorted lightly with the sight, shaking your head as you approached the window. “I’m no Spider-Man. If I fall from here, it’ll be your fault, and I hope they write it down as homicide.”

“Good to know you have so much faith in me.” Tara answered, kneeling on the roof tiles and extending her hand for you to grab. You hesitated for a few seconds, and honestly, Tara couldn’t blame you for it, but she kept looking at you expectantly, trying to communicate with her eyes. Let me make things right with you.

She almost sighed in relief when you finally grabbed her forearm, letting her help you up slowly, pretending not to notice how her hands ended up on your hips. All in the name of making your night a little less boring, of course.

But wow, your body felt... warm.

It didn’t take long for you to pull away from Tara, clearing your throat and sitting on the roof beside her. It would be hard to stand for long due to the slope, but the spot was comfortable enough for you to sit or lie down without the risk of rolling off.

The roof was quite high, not tall enough for you to see the entire city, for example, but high enough that the people below you looked like tiny ants. Ants that were dancing, having fun, and throwing cups of beer at each other.

“Do you come here often?” you broke the silence, but Tara saw the exact moment you winced, realizing way too late the double meaning of your words. “I didn’t mean… I wasn’t…”

“It’s all good.” Tara laughed, considering saying something to tease you even more, but she ultimately decided against it , feeling a bit sorry for your embarrassed state. “And no, to answer your question. I used to spend a lot more time up here before, but now…”

She let the sentence trail off, lost in her own thoughts. Maybe the last time she had been on that roof was the day Sam had gone to rehab, two years ago. Which, looking back now, was probably around the same time Amber stopped being a caring friend and started being the friend that thought Tara complained too much.

The two of you remained in a comfortable silence for a few more seconds—or as quiet as it could be with two massive speakers blasting music two floors below. Tara glanced to the side, staring at your face, which seemed more focused on the starry sky, illuminated only by a few beams of moonlight.

Like she had felt in the car earlier, that sight gave her peace. It wasn’t like looking at Amber, which made her feel like her organs were being squeezed and thrown into an erupting volcano. Looking at you made her feel like a sea breeze was brushing against her face, a comforting, peaceful gust of wind.

Tara’s eyes drifted down to your lips, and she had to run her tongue across her own. Amber’s challenge lingered in the back of her mind, and she was tempted to test if your kiss would be a better distraction than the cheap beer she’d grabbed from the basement.

But suddenly, Tara felt self-conscious. Maybe it was the fact that the idea had been Amber’s, and she was still too annoyed with the girl to give her the satisfaction of being right. Maybe it was because she could still taste the alcohol in her mouth and didn’t want you to taste it too.

Or maybe it was something else. Something gentler and softer that even Tara couldn’t quite describe yet.

“Oh, look!” Tara snapped out of her own thoughts when she saw you excitedly pointing at the sky. “You can see Orion so clearly!”

She followed the direction of your hand with her eyes, feeling confused about what exactly she was supposed to be looking at. That particular night was cloudless, which made the vast array of stars shining in the dark sky exceptionally beautiful.

You noticed the lost expression on the girl’s face beside you and chuckled. “Orion? The constellation?”

“Oh, yeah. I… I know.” Tara just nodded, feeling a bit embarrassed for not being sure what you were referring to. She knew what a constellation was, of course, but she had never studied them in much detail, and in her eyes, all she could see in the sky were random stars, beautiful but completely scattered.

You laughed again, not buying Tara’s excuse for a second after seeing how confused her eyes looked. Gently, your hand held hers as you started pointing out the constellation with both of your hands joined together.

“See those three stars close together? That’s what we call Orion’s belt. It’s much easier to spot the rest of the constellation starting from there. Up there, kind of making a triangle, you have Meissa, Betelgeuse, and Bellatrix, and if you look to the side, it kinda looks like he’s holding a bow.”

Tara wanted to pay attention to your explanation, but her brain turned to mush the moment your hands got entangled, and her heart started pounding like the drums in a heavy metal song. You, on the other hand, seemed completely unaware of the action, which made Tara feel even more like an idiot.

Wow, what was in those drinks?

“You really know a lot about this,” she said, trying to sound normal, even though her voice felt like it could crack at any moment. You smiled at the comment, letting go of her hand to play with your fingers in your lap.

“One day, I had this brilliant idea to paint constellations on my bedroom ceiling—or at least most of them—and I had to do a ton of research to make sure it looked right.” You laughed, and Tara realized she wanted to hear that sound more and more.

“It’s cool that you’re a painter. It’s different.” She wanted to keep the conversation going, eager to learn more about any detail you were willing to offer, but she didn’t exactly know what to say. For someone who usually had no trouble expressing herself, Tara seemed to have forgotten her entire vocabulary.

Luckily, you seemed to be in the opposite situation, feeling comfortable enough to keep talking. “I guess so? I’ve never thought much about it before. Painting is a lot more than just a hobby for me—it’s more like a safe haven, you know?”

Tara nodded instead of giving a verbal response, especially because she knew exactly what you were talking about, but she didn’t have the words to express how much she needed a conversation like this—so simple, yet so healing.

She reached into the pocket of her jacket, slowly pulling out her phone. “Can I take a picture of the constellation?” Tara asked, mentally kicking herself when she heard how vulnerable her voice sounded.

Her tone didn’t go unnoticed by you, and you looked at her with a bit of confusion, but soon after, your eyes softened, shining with kindness—almost as bright as the stars above your heads. “You don’t have to ask me to take pictures of the sky, but do you want me to point it out again?”

“Sorry, old habit.” She shook her head to snap out of it, feeling her cheeks heating up as she started opening the camera app and aiming it upward. “But yeah, please.”

Slowly and gently, you took Tara’s hands again, working together with her to make sure the constellation was perfectly centered. You were close enough for Tara to catch the pleasant scent of your perfume, but she forced herself to stay focused on the picture you two were trying to capture.

After a few successful shots of Orion (which Tara planned to edit later to make it more visible and color-corrected), the two of you lay down side by side, admiring the night’s beauty in another moment of shared, comfortable silence.

_

Now, the silence inside Sam’s car wasn’t as comfortable.

It was the first time Tara had asked Sam to pick her up from a party, especially as late as 2 AM, considering the younger Carpenter always used to sleep over at Amber’s once everything wrapped up.

But after you left, Tara completely lost the desire to stay. The music was dull, she had no interest in drinking or playing any games, and she definitely didn’t want to be around her friends anymore.

She sat in a thoughtful silence, her head resting against the window, watching as the asphalt disappeared behind the car doors. The soft hum of the engine served as background noise since Tara didn’t have her precious headphones, but she’d spent enough time around loud music for the night anyway, so her ears were begging for a break.

“Did you… have fun?” Sam asked cautiously, as if Tara were a wounded animal that might lash out at any moment. The younger girl sighed, feeling guilty for being the reason behind the hostile distance between them.

She already felt guilty about enough things. Maybe it was time to start lifting some of that weight off her shoulders.

“I guess I did.” She nodded, watching Sam’s surprised expression at her genuine response. The look made her seem younger, reminding Tara that Sam wasn’t that much older than her. Now that she thought about it, she couldn’t remember seeing Sam so carefree since she’d returned, but her anger hadn’t exactly allowed her to notice the little details. “I had a good time.”

“Good,” Sam replied, trying to hide a satisfied smile from tugging at the corner of her lips. In the passenger seat, Tara did the same, feeling a tiny bit of happiness from the small progress they’d made. Small steps were important.

The car fell silent again, but it felt less heavy, and Tara figured it was because Sam was tired and still had to focus on the road for at least another 10 minutes. Taking advantage of the pause, the younger Carpenter pulled her phone out of her jacket pocket, going straight to her gallery and searching for the pictures she had taken earlier.

Most of them were of the sky, capturing the fateful (and now familiar to Tara) constellation of Orion, which made her think of the feeling of your hands on hers. Two others, however, were a bit more personal for her.

She zoomed in on the photo, staring at the profile of your face bathed in moonlight as you smiled brighter than the stars. She had taken the picture in secret, an impulsive urge to capture not just the moment, but you. Tomorrow, she could blame it on the alcohol, but tonight, she would give herself the privilege of gazing at your carefree expression for a few long seconds.

You had probably spent hours talking on the roof, and yet it still didn’t feel like enough. Tara wanted more. She needed more. Even though she’d never considered herself to be possessive or clingy, she couldn’t help but want to explore every little piece of your world as if it were the most beautiful piece of art.

A sudden thought crossed her mind, and Tara quickly opened Instagram, this time taking her time to scroll through and really appreciate each of your paintings. As she studied the pieces you had displayed, she mentally kicked herself for not having done it sooner. It was clear that you drew inspiration from the Renaissance, and that people were your greatest muse. There were few self-portraits, but Tara recognized some of your friends in the works.

She was so captivated that she felt a strong urge to knock on your door and ask you to tell her the story behind each one, just for the pleasure of hearing your voice. But, well, it was 2 AM, and she didn’t even know where you lived.

And, of course, she wasn’t that crazy.

Still, she decided to slide into your DMs, sending you five of the photos you had taken of the sky, taking the opportunity to wish you a good night. Would sending a heart emoji be too much? She decided against it. The photos would be enough.

But Tara still wasn’t satisfied with her exploration, so she ventured into your stories, looking for anything that could give her more reasons to talk to you. It turned out to be a great decision, because she struck gold.

You had posted an announcement from Woodsboro Central Hospital earlier, calling for volunteers for a special event dedicated to bringing joy to children hospitalized with cancer. The flyer said that any help was welcome, from telling stories to dressing up as superheroes, and Tara couldn’t stop wondering what you had signed up to do.

Without wasting any time, she navigated to the hospital’s profile, hoping they were still accepting applications even though she was texting them literally seven hours before the event.

Hi, I’m interested in volunteering! Would you need a photographer?

[giannaln4]

GIANNA'S KINKTOBER '24 SEASON

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Kinktober day eight.

Car Sex (1k words)

summary: Lando was eager to use his brand new car with you.

warnings: NSFW, +18, smut, MDNI, stablished relationship, unprotected sex, public-ish sex.

Having a secret relationship with a Formula One driver meant having to sneak around even in the most private places; somehow, someone always managed to find him, but so far, you had been lucky.

There is no denying that it was a little annoying how hard it was sometimes to not even be able to have him come into your apartment building or come into his, since you were both worried someone would spot you leaving each other places, start a rumour, and have people even more interested in his love life than they already were, so sometimes, meeting somewhere to spend time together inside his car was the best option.

Like tonight. He had just come back from England and you knew he had to leave soon for the American triple header, so you needed to make the most of the time you had together before leaving again, even if it was just a few hours.

“I’ve missed you- so much,” Lando said in between kisses. He grinned when you straddled his lap. You struggled a bit, but when you finally managed, his hands immediately finding your hips.

“Yeah?” You asked, slightly moving your hips to create some friction, the action making him moan. “How much?”

“So much, I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admitted, softly biting at your lower lip. His hands explored your torso like he had never touched you before, thumbing at the soft flesh under your shirt.

“Really? You couldn’t stop thinking about me?” You teased, wrapping your arms around his neck and moving your hips one more time.

“Mhm,” he hummed, “I can’t seem to get you off my mind, love.” You smiled at the pet name and leaned in for another kiss. It always got really heated really quick after he had been away for a while, and you loved to get him all worked up, to the point where he couldn’t keep himself from dragging your hips against him to intensify the pleasure. 

“I missed you too," you mumbled back against his lips that were slowly moving along his, keeping your hands on his hair. Lando occasionally travelled from under your shirt to your thighs, humming and moaning softly into the kiss until he allowed his hands to explore further down, finding the hem of your skirt. 

He teased you for a bit, but eventually he decided he needed to take you, to feel you. 

One of his long fingers sneaked past your underwear and into your soaked folds, making you slightly lift your hips to give him more acces. He smiled at this, loving how needy you were for him. Lando started rubbing your clit with his thumb while his middle finger teased your entrance.

At this point, you were a moaning mess as he worked to get you to an orgasm. “More,” was all you managed to say, and he happily complied, rubbing harder and faster as his finger slowly entered your hole. He was planning on making this quick, because the sooner you finished, the sooner he would get to be inside you.

His pace was desperate, and even more desperate were your moans, making Lando needier than he already was. He entered a second finger, and he knew it was over when you started to squeeze them hard. 

“Come for me, baby,” he said in a tone you could never get tired of. This really pushed you over the edge, because before you knew it, your orgasm finally hit you. “There we go.”

Lando slowed down as he helped you through your orgasm, and when you stopped moving, he quickly pulled his painful cock out of his trousers. 

You couldn’t help but look down, almost salivating at the way he gave it a few slow pumps before pushing your underwear to the side again and running his head through your folds to coat it in your juices. This made you hiss, but God, you were dying to have him inside you. 

A loud moan scaped both your mouths when you started to sit on him, fully taking him in, and as soon as he was deep inside you, he took your hips to lift you up and then made you go down again. You tried to set a pace for the both of you, but the small car made it harder than you were expecting.

“You couldn’t have brought a flashier car?” You told him, trying to ride him in the very limited space.

“No, this car is perfect for this.”

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, knowing you couldn’t expect anything less from him, but that eye roll was quickly replaced by one full of pleasure when he hit that sweet spot inside of you.

“See? You are still enjoying it.”

“Shut up.”

Lando continued gripping at your hips, helping you move as he thrusted up to meet you half way so you wouldn’t have to do all the work alone.

The car was hot and the windows were foggy, his Ferrari F40 bouncing with the intensity of your own movements. If anyone drove past you, they would know exactly what was going on. But honestly, neither of you could care less about that; you were just chasing that so-close release.

You would never admit it, but you did find the situation kinda hot, and maybe it was just that you hadn’t been intimate in a while, but you already found yourself with the feeling on your tummy about to snap. 

“‘m close,” you whimpered, and he was so lost in pleasure he just let out a ‘uh huh’ before intensifying his motions. You knew he was close too, so you started devouring his neck just the way he liked. 

A few more thrusts, and he was already there, the warm feeling of him inside you making you come just seconds later. 

You stayed like that for a few minutes, trying to come down from your high, and once you fully caught your breath, you carefully went back to your seat, sitting on his hoodie so you wouldn't stain his new car. 

His jeans, on the other hand, were a complete mess. You could see your juices mixed with his own, trying hard to contain your laughter as he visibly worried about how he would get into his apartment looking like that.

↺ back to navigation — Kinktober masterlist

[almostempty]

he knows (lucien x f!reader)

(lucien x f!reader) | wc: 3.2k | other fics | pic from here

UH HEY! I’m just gonna drop this here and scurry away to finish the other lucien one shot that i also started today, ….and then i’ll return to finishing divorced dad rock joel, and responding to all of the lovely people on here–but, like, i really just need this guy in the most emotionally unavailable and fuckable way, i hope one of y'all gets me

tags/warnings/thots: 18+/explicit, smut, toxic ex/fuckboy lucien, sex instead of communicating or processing emotions, angst but we fuckin’ and that’s the whole plot, we hit raw in my fics bc of my imaginary latex aversion or something, crying, biting, dom lucien vibes (? i never know when that’s the right tag), big dash of pls sexy man fuck the feelings away, tell me if there’s something i should add  

– no editing, no thinking, wrote this in a fever dream while staring at one of the new gifs all afternoon, idk his character! I haven’t watched anything! i just saw the chains and the face and let the horny devil in charge of my sole brain cell take the lead, aka he's my barbie, i was trying to challenge myself to just do something short like 1k- but, uhhhh it’s only 3! 

seeking feedback though (as always) so i can improve!! tell me all ur thots pls! 

“I know,” Lucien argues, “but I never meant to hurt you.” 

“I don’t care anymore.” You speak plainly. Small and quiet. Without conviction. Apathetic. Honest. 

“Anymore?” 

“Baby, please.” He looks at you with those stupid round eyes. He’s effortlessly put together like the wrinkles in his silk shirt were approved by a team of stylists to give him a hint of carelessness. Your incessant attraction to an emotionally unavailable man, it pulls you toward him like a bitter fate. Your therapist, Angie, says you need to learn how to find healthy attachment attractive, but if you shudder with disgust at the thought then what’s the point? 

“Just listen to me,” he continues, talking in circles. Apologizing without taking accountability. Explaining away everything. His behaviors, words, decisions. Apparently, he floats through life at the whim of others. Like one of those ugly deep sea creatures, he tempts you like a glowing lure in the dark. Your eyes glaze over, everything shifting out of focus as you dissociate in your living room. No matter how numb you are, he calls to you. 

You aren’t listening to the words. They don’t matter. It doesn’t matter if his tone is sincere or if it’s thick with flattery and empty promises. It’s more basic than that. Simple. The timbre of his voice. Unique to him. Imprinted in the chambers of your heart. A sharp ache spears through you, and something cracks. A fat, hot, tear escapes. With your shoulders drooping, staring at the ground, the tear falls, splashing on the floor. 

When you look up, meeting his eyes, it’s over. Lucien pulls you close, wrapping his heavy arms around your frame, bracing for the crescendo, keeping you steady. Tears stream endlessly, flooding down your cheeks, sticking to your face and his neck as you bury your face into his warm skin. He’s still trying to placate you, speaking nonsense, thinking he can comfort you. Thinking he knows why you’re upset. Thinking he understands you. 

When your therapist asked you to define love you had described it as being understood. Being seen. Being known. Being considered and prioritized. 

Lucien thinks he knows you. Thinks he understands you. Does he think he loves you? 

Following this line of thought hurts. Splitting you open, a raw beating heart, glistening, thumping, full of life, or a meal fresh and hot for a carnivore to tear into with its sharp fangs. Plump muscle, rich and dark, bleeding out, helpless. Snapping back into reality you shake, a violent sob racking your diaphragm as the pads of his fingers massage the back of your neck. Soothing. Coaxing. 

You want it sharper. Rough. Violent. Distracting. Painful. Anything. With wet lashes, swollen eyes, and ragged breath you become fixated. Licking the salty tears from the dip where his neck meets his shoulder, you can feel his muscles and tendons beneath the flesh. So human and alive. He strokes his hand down your spine, attempting to pacify you, but it sparks something lurid and ravenous, instead. 

You graze your teeth along his neck. “What are you doing?” he mutters the question over the top of your head. Maybe he does know you. “What do you need?” He growls, lowly, the hand he traces your spine with trails lower this time. He’s gluttonous and torrid. A hair-trigger to shift from his concern for your pain and the hole in your heart to a sordid desire to mollify you with his fingers and his cock. 

Maybe it’s a perversion, the tangled experience of despair and desire, the duet of anger and arousal, the sick escape using sex to skip over the emotional suffering. But it’s exactly what you want. It’s the root of the fucked up toxicity. Of everything wrong between you. He does know. He does understand. The same heat that flickers in your core sparks in his. 

Voracious and brash. You bite down, sinking your teeth into his neck, igniting a wildfire. An untamable beast. Again and again and again. Biting, sucking, kissing. His skin tender and raw, your lips wet and swollen. You run a hand along the back of his neck, tugging into his hair, anchoring your grip, and pulling a husky groan from his throat. 

“What do you need?” Lucien repeats, this time with a sharper edge. He detaches you from the safety of the crook of his neck. His two hands. Unnecessarily large, warm, and steady brace either side of your jaw, his fingers wrapping behind your neck. He holds you in front of his face. Vulnerable. Messy. Heat radiates from your cheeks. You release a shaky breath. 

“Don’t make me say it.” It’s a whisper. Pleading and demanding at the same time. 

The cocky smirk that spreads on his face is sickening. It makes you want to slap him, to hear the crack of your palm against his cheek. It makes you want to surrender. Soft and pliable, ready to please and earn praise. It makes you want to scream. To bite him so hard you draw blood. To fuck him until he can’t talk. 

You tell him all of it. Exactly what you need, what you want, what you refuse to say. You tell him all through your kiss. The hunger in your lips as you press them to his, the violence on your tongue, the desperate and vulnerable need to be cared for in the soft moans that rise from your chest, from your heart, from the blood in your veins. He chases all of it. The punishment and pleasure. 

He backs you into the kitchen, caging you against the counter like a scene from a movie. Impervious to whatever protest you make as he clears space, blindly sweeping his arm over the counter before lifting you onto it. The edge of the counter digs into your soft thighs, but it doesn’t matter. You’re ready to drown in the vanilla musk and bourbon-spiced scent of him. The bass in his voice that makes your eyes fall shut and your head tip back against the cupboard behind you. The bruising pressure of his grip that he knows you crave. 

“Baby,” he croons. His words are soft and gentle. As if he propped you on the counter to tend to your wounds. But his hands show no mercy. Roughly ridding you of your clothes. Dropping them into a pile on the floor. He’s ruthless with you. In ways you can’t be with yourself. In ways other lovers could never master. Harsh without being cruel. Deliberate without a plan. 

He lets you tug his shirt over his head. Skin to skin the intensity is primal. “Fuck,” is all you can manage to say. The heat is overwhelming, prickling your nerves and sharpening every sensation. Lucien toys with you like it’s his favorite game. Alternating. 

First, palming reverently at the flesh, sweeping his tongue over your hard nipples, and teasing the wet skin with his hot breath. 

You let him make the decisions. Take the lead. You’re done arguing, done thinking, done with the guilt of letting him in the door, done with acting like you’re any better than him. You brace yourself, one palm flat on the counter, the other resting on his shoulder. Taking whatever he gives. 

He switches up. Everything becomes pointed and precise. He sucks marks into your skin on the underside of your breasts. He pinches and flicks the pert bud of your straining nipples. The contact of his fingers, tongue, and teeth sends white-hot jolts of electricity straight to your cunt. He bites down hard enough to make you choke on a moan. Your whine fills the room, twisted with pain and pleasure. 

“You poor thing,” he purrs. Your face is still wet from your tears. But now they’re tears of frustration. “Just a mess.” You reach for his belt, impatient, but he stops you. He’s not done looking. He lifts one of your legs, propping your foot onto the counter and posing you obscenely in front of him. His gaze makes your pussy throb.

He’s torn. 

Studying your face. Everything unsaid in your eyes. The anguish and rage. The acerbic disdain. The nearly imperceptible longing. 

Admiring your sex, spread open for him. Shining with your arousal. Swollen, slick lips so sensitive for him. Your core, fluttering with anticipation, achingly empty without him. 

He holds your chin between his thumb and curled forefinger. His eyes swirl with lust and something you can’t quite place. “You have no idea,” he rasps. “No idea how much it fucking kills me to see you like this. And knowing I’m the reason why.” 

You don’t know if he means it breaks his heart to see the way you suffer or if he means the sight of you dripping on the counter has him so hard it hurts. You don’t know which you’d believe anyway. He’s not hard up to find someone else to torment or to fuck. That thought makes your throat dry. 

“I can’t stay away from you,” he traces his fingers down your soft inner thigh, closer and closer to where you need him. “How could I?” You tip your head to the side, your limbs and head feel heavy, drunk on a cocktail of everything you love and hate about him all at once. 

“Then don’t.” 

Your reply makes him smile again. He’s so handsome when he smiles it’s infuriating. “You could scream at me, kick me out, hate me–but you still let me touch you, you need me to touch you. Why do I love that so much?” 

“You like feeling important.” You let your snarky comment out without thinking. His question was definitely rhetorical. A few emotions flicker across his face before, a dark little smirk curls the corner of his mouth. 

He feeds off of your challenge. “There she is.” 

“I never left,” you snap, frustration spilling over. He laughs, loose and easy. 

“Listen to me,” Lucien says, low and velvety. Subduing you with the tension and proximity. “I know. You want me to use you. Like you’re my toy. Until you can’t keep those beautiful eyes open.”

“Yes.” 

“I know.” He echoes. Then he closes the gap, kissing you with affection. Holding himself back, but you aren’t reserved. You’re greedy; you want it harder. He just said he’d ruin you, why is he being so gentle? He pulls back with something sincere in his eyes. A whimper falls from your lips, pouty and baffled. 

“Gonna fuck you like I’m trying to ruin you, baby.” 

You narrow your eyes at him. Sometime soon, hopefully? You don’t snap again, answering with another yes. 

He leans in, breath fanning hot over your ear. “But, we both know that tonight you’re the one using me. Ruining me. I’m your toy.” 

Your breath hitches at that. You mouth I know in response, not even able to whisper it. He doesn’t need to hear you say it. He nips your ear lobe and you loose a surprised cry before gasping out his name. 

He’s swift now. Purposeful. Undoing his belt, shoving his pants down and revealing his cock. Reflexively your hips tense and shift. Just looking makes you salivate. He runs his thumb over the bead of precome, drawing it along his length. 

He knows how you want it. His fingers can coax you to an orgasm in no time, but you don’t want that. You want the resistance, the stretch, the dull ache, and intensity as your muscles work to let him in deeper. Nobody makes you feel the way he does. Full. Complete. Mindless. 

It could be pornographic, vulgar, raunchy. The way he pushes your inner thigh further open with one hand while he uses the other to languidly stroke himself. The way he grips himself so tightly like he’s punishing himself. The way his jaw hangs slack and he mutters under his breath about how badly you need him. 

To you, however, it’s a profound admission. A candid confession. The more he goads you the more it solidifies that he’s the one that needs you. That it flows so easily from him because he’s really talking about himself. 

“You say you don’t care anymore, but look at you now, baby.” He shifts closer, at counter height you’re aligned perfectly. He glides the head of his cock up and down the folds of your soaked cunt. You shudder and moan, mesmerized by the sight. 

“It’s almost sad how much you need me, like you can’t breathe without this,” he keeps talking. 

He demands that you watch, as if there was a chance you could stop, as he lines up and sinks into you. You groan in unison. You’re so tight, he draws back out. Repeating the same motion, feeding his cock into you deeper and deeper each time. Your hot, plush walls pulse around him, adjusting. When he finally meets the end of you, he hums, pleased. “You feel that?” 

You bob your head, nodding, agreeing. “Yes.” Your voice is breathy. “Perfect.” You grind against him as if you could take him any deeper, begging him to move with your needy display. It’s wholly overwhelming as is, every nerve within you alight as his cock kicks within you, tensing with the same craving to move. 

He takes your hand in his, nestling your fingers around him. Somehow he feels even larger than he looks, like he shouldn’t be able to fit inside of you, but here you are feeling it and seeing it for yourself. Slowly, Lucien tilts his hips, almost pulling out of you completely before plunging in with force. He keeps up the tantalizing pace, guiding you to touch yourself. He watches your fingers with rapt attention, bracing a hand on your hip to keep you in place as he drives into you with another snap of his hips that edges you closer. 

He gradually speeds up, a master at tempering his desire. Your hip flexor aches as you hold yourself in place but it doesn’t matter. You find your rhythm as he holds steady at a pace that has him landing brutal thrusts that force the words out of your lungs. Soft oh’s and fuck’s pour out of you, under your breath, adding fuel to the fire blazing between you. 

Lucien savors your chanting and the image of you fixed in place, taking him eagerly. Your fingers move with urgency, chasing the release that looms closer and closer. Your mind is blissfully blank, reduced to something animalistic, removed from the burden of your history. “Don’t stop,” you plead, “I’m so close.” 

He doesn’t stop. He fucks you at the same pace, all the way through it. As you contract around him, when everything pulls taut and snaps within you, crying out his name, when it’s too sensitive and you whip your hand away, and as you shudder and breathe deeper and deeper. As the ache in your legs from being spread wide open returns and your ass feels numb where the edge of the counter digs into your flesh. Another tear spills from the corner of your eye, but you can’t say what it’s from anymore. 

When you fidget, he stops moving, letting you readjust. A sheen of sweat glistens all over your chest and you’re suddenly acutely aware of how loud the slick noises between you are. How easy it is to get lost in Lucien's hot and heavy magnetism. You know you were falling apart before he propped you up on the counter, but you’re sure you’re a complete wreck now. 

Lucien pulls out but then leans against you, pinning the length of his cock between you, hot, slick, and messy against your sweat-damp skin. He floods your senses, all you can see, hear, and smell. Caging you in his hand find a possessive hold on you, one wrapped around the back of your neck, one wrapped tight around your thigh as you hitch it around his hip. 

“You feel good?” he asks. You hum in agreement. You do feel good. You know he’s not done yet, and smile wide, still hungry for more. “How good?” he asks and you know there’s something coming next. 

“So good.” You trail a hand between you, drawing a line down his chest and back up to cradle his cheek in your palm. Something about the prickle of his facial hair along your palm feels so natural, domestic, and sweet. You’re tempted to kiss his cheek, nuzzle against his ear, and ask him to take you to bed. But you can’t. You’ll never have that. Instead, you bait him. “I think you’re holding back though, I know you can fuck me harder than that.” 

He scoffs, unamused, blowing a hot puff of air between you. His fingers dig deeper into your thigh, applying the kind of pressure that stirs arousal low in your belly. 

The dark glint in his eye gives you butterflies. “I will, Baby,” his rumbling voice is innately sensual, but the condescension in his tone makes you tingly. You’re so close to him that you can feel his heart beating in his chest, you can feel the same pulse thrumming in his cock, still flush against you as he slants his lower half along yours. He’s all things heavy and firm, strong and sculpted, yet fitting so naturally against you. You need more, wriggling and squirming against him, you can’t contain the restlessness. 

“You know,” he says slowly, drawing your eyes back to his. “You can keep trying to move on, but no one else will ever know you like this. No one else will ever ruin you the way I do. You can tell me you don’t care anymore, but you’ll never let anyone else in the way you let me. They won’t touch that part of you, the one that’s mine—because it’ll always be mine.” 

It trickles through you slowly until your blood feels like it’s boiling. They’re tears of anger now. It’s like a sick double entendre. 

“I know,” your words are steeped in every emotion cascading through you. 

You don’t know if it’s worse that he’s right. That there’s a Lucien-shaped mark imprinted on your heart that will never fade. Or if it’s worse that he doesn’t even know it applies to him just the same. That he always comes back because he’s trying to fill the same void. 

Maybe he does know. Maybe he does know and this is all he can do to make it up to you. 

Maybe that’s why he leads you to your bedroom and lives up to his word. 

Why he fucks you so hard you see stars. Why he doesn’t stop even after he comes deep inside of you with a possessive always gonna be mine. Why he litters your skin with more false promises and confessions. Why he gives you so many orgasms you lose track. 

Maybe that’s why he’s still there when the sun starts to peek through your window. Why he fucks you slowly when you’re too tender and exhausted to take him any harder until you’re floating in limbo between a dream and reality. Why he stays there, just cradling your back into his chest and listening to the rhythm of your breath. 

Maybe he does know. 

PLEASE COME YELL WITH ME ABOUT THIS FICTIONAL GUY BC I NEED HIM IN A SUPER NORMAL WAY or tell me if my writing was incoherent or if you can't relate to the toxic ex that is still the best fuck of your life (cruel and twisted fr)

dividers by @/cyberangel-graphics

tags for the babes that let me annoy them with my thots <3

@lovely-vamp-princess @gothcsz @auteurdelabre @adoreyouusugar @swankyorange @itwasntimethatdidit40 @ivoryandflame

@magneticecstasy @indiegirlunited @syd-djarin

[acoazlove]

After Starfall

Azriel x reader

Summary: After starfall with your family is perfect.

Word count: 1k

Warnings: fluff

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Loud giggles filled the room, mixing with the quiet music.

Drink in hand while dancing with Mor. The aftermath of watching Starfall was far better than the show itself. Being with your family, the people who have been through so much to get to this point of happiness, made it far more breathtaking and heartwarming.

Mor somehow always managed to get you to your feet during this time, despite always starting the night telling her, ’Not this year.’ But she still manages to get you up anyway—probably because of the alcohol.

So here you are, you and Mor, drinks sloshing precariously close to the edge of your glasses, laughing, spinning, and tripping over each other. Dresses swaying with every step, smiles never leaving your faces.

Amidst it all, you felt a pair of eyes following your every move. The eyes that belonged to the love of your life. His attentive nature, always making sure you’re safe and okay, and maybe also admiring his beautiful mate.

Azriel hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off of you. When you had put on your dress—the same color as his siphons—he contemplated skipping the festivities to rip it off you and devour you then and there. But you were far too excited to notice the change in your mate's scent, so he decided he could wait till after.

Much to his brothers’ annoyance, he couldn’t keep a conversation going for more than a few seconds. Your laughter bouncing off the walls always managing to pull his gaze back to you.

A loud, overly dramatic huff was heard from beside him, drawing Azriel’s focus over to his left, where Cassian had a furrow between his brows. “Did you not hear me?” he asks incredulously. A snort comes from his right: “He’s too busy stalking his mate.” Rhys teases, while swirling his drink, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Always one to stir the pot.

Azriel’s face scrunched imperceptibly upon hearing that, “I was not stalking her.” He all but spat the word back at him, “I was watching her.” A bark of laughter left Cassian, “Sounds like the same thing to me.”

“You don’t even know where Nesta is.” Az threw back at him. An offended noise left his brother at that, and a grumbled remark, that caused a chuckle to leave Rhys. But Azriel didn’t hear since he was already out of his seat, making his way over to you.

Babbling drunken nonsense with Mor as she spun you for probably the fourth time in the last two minutes, which caused you to stumble back a few steps, hitting what felt like a brick wall. As you turned around, your smile threatened to split your face in two when you comprehended that it was in fact your mate and not a brick wall.

Whether you realized you had sent your excitement and joy down the bond or not, it still caused his heart to skip a beat. His own dimpled grin grew in response.

”Azriel!” You threw yourself onto him, his arms wrapping around you. The rumble from his laugh was felt from your face smooshed into his chest. “Hi, Angel.” The term of endearment in his deep, husky voice made you feel all fluttery, so you pulled away to get a better look at him.

You yourself had hardly been able to keep your hands and hungry gaze off of him the first half of the night. The silky black shirt, buttoned down so you could see his toned, tattooed chest, the black dress pants that hugged his ass just right, and his onyx hair pushed back a little, compared to his usual tussled curls that fell across his forehead. He looked delicious. So much so that you felt a little drool pooling at the corner of your mouth.

A low laugh left him as he angled your chin to meet his gaze. Eyes, the most gorgeous combination of gold and green. “Can I steal you for a dance?” Your smile grew if that was even possible. “Uh-huh.” was your only reply, as you grabbed his hand.

You threw a glance over your shoulder to signal that you were going to go dance with Azriel, but instead you managed to catch a glimpse of a stumbling Mor making her way over to Feyre. You escorted your mate out onto the balcony for a little more privacy.

As you got in position, it came naturally: a scarred hand pressing into your lower back, pulling you in close, your hand on his silk-covered shoulder, and your other hands clasping together.

Tonight wasn’t like all those times you had to waltz around the hewn city, acting like you couldn’t stand one another, faking so much hatred that became nearly unbearable. No, tonight was just the two of you swaying back and forth. About the love you shared and all those years of pining after one another before you bit the bullet and finally confessed those feelings.

Your head slumped forward, ear resting right over your lover's heart, the rhythm the best music one could ask for. Warmth and adoration being sent down the bond on both sides. This part of the holiday was the best, even if Mor teases you for it.

Eyes flutter close as his night-chilled mist and cedar scent fills your nose. “You smell good.” Words subtly slurred from the alcohol you consumed. A huff of laughter exited through Azriel’s nose, and he pressed a delicate kiss to your forehead as a reply. “You look stunning, my love.” His voice like liquid honey, a shiver running up your spine in response.

Pulling your head back to look up at him, smile growing once again, eyes now heavy lidded. “I love you.” words barely above a whisper. His molten, golden gaze softened. “I love you too, Angel.”

His large hand cupped the side of your face, and a contented sigh leaves you as his lips meet yours in a slow kiss. Your own hands trailing up his chest to rest on the nape of his neck.

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a/n: There might be some spelling mistakes, so let me know. This idea popped into my head a couple of days ago, so I thought I might give it a go. I hope you liked it! <3

[anantaru]

— drunk genshin boys

including heizou, alhaitham, scaramouche, kaveh, pantalone, childe, diluc, cyno x gn! reader

꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff & crack, idk what this is but very cute

drunk! heizou who gets tremendously clingy with you— he doesn‘t have anything but embracing and snuggling up to you in mind. from the beginning, before anything else, you have to help him get to bed, he can barely walk in a straight line and you wonder who he was sharing his drinks with— might be kazuha for all you know. "you‘re so good to me." he slurrs his words, eyes lowered and almost closed but keeping them open, heizou tries to because he can’t keep his eyes off you— even when drunk out of his mind, then the sweet man reaches his arms out for you, "come here come here." it’s a combination of a pitchy whine and a pout displayed before you and archons, how can someone be this adorable without even trying hard? you wonder but ultimately smile at your boyfriend, drawing a fuzzy blanket over his body before leaning into his chest.

drunk! alhaitham who fights with himself, more or less— he can hardly stand. you see, your boyfriend knows he‘s drunk and now he‘s forcing himself to sober up with nothing but pure, strong willpower and a good spirit at hand, but beware, he knows it‘s not possible but he tries to tell himself to sober up regardless, even when aware that that‘s not how it works in the general rule of booze. "i have almost conquered myself." he announces proudly while leaning against your shoulder, his soft hair ruffled and ticking your cheek. "yeah yeah." you playfully roll your eyes, placing your hand on top of his thigh while petting the clothed skin. it‘s when he places his palm on top of your hand to catch you in his embrace before you can notice the faint, soundly snoring sounds of your boyfriend succumbing to a deep slumber against you.

drunk! scaramouche who, much to your own surprise, tends to indicate a few kisses, cuddles and silently thanks you for taking care of him— it‘s especially surprising since this never happens when he‘s not under the influence of alcohol. truthfully, he didn‘t think he was even capable to get drunk and tried a bunch of different beverages around sumeru city. what he didn‘t know was that, alcohol can become a little tricky, especially when it hits you somewhat delayed. you were quick to notice his cheeks changing their color until his entire face was covered in red— the small pants from his parted lips and his larger pupils only proving your point. "nuisance." kuni curses, planting his arm over your shoulder as he makes you stop for a second, keeping your movements to a stand still. "kiss." he leans closer, no words following, ultimately failing to hit your lips and bumping in your nose instead— at this point you’re dying of laughter, you had even attempted to fight your giggles but how could that even be an option when he‘s like that? yet to the best part, you show him how it‘s done and properly melt your lips on his.

drunk! kaveh who— and such fact is known throughout all of sumeru, was a lightweight on the inside, but sometimes had the need to pretend to actually be able to hold his drinks in. you on the other hand knew your boyfriend and his tendencies to drink a little bit too much whenever he‘s meeting up with his friends for a round of tcg or anything really— most of the time it does consist of gossiping. considering this, you always await him late at night, knowing full on well that he‘s going to have a hard time getting out of his shoes or, frankly, find the way to his bedroom. "i‘m not- not drunk!" he proclaims with a pitched, half broken tone, raising his pointer finger in the air, "drunk not i not!" and stammers before dropping into his bed face first. you welcome him with a smile, "you sure aren‘t." and amusingly shake your head but not before placing a bucket next to the bed for— well, who knows what you both will face this entire night.

drunk! pantalone who loves to drink a few glasses of red wine— reveling in the massive flavor of different nuances the beverage had in store after a long day of working himself to frenzied tiredness. believe it or not but he knows the limits of his body quite well, yet even he can overindulge in it from time to time. in which case would he make himself overly noticable the moment he stumbles home. it‘s louder than usual and you wonder if he actually tripped over and fell carelessly or ran against the door. but the man finds you at last as he always did, you long since ready for bed before dropping right next to you, still fully clothed in a perfectly fitted garment and his glasses messily shoved up, "i may have had too many drinks tonight." he admits against his own volition, rubbing his head and the tiny red spot emerging on his forehead— he really did hit the door, "and you may need to help me out of my clothes."

drunk! childe who doesn‘t consider a party being a real event without him in it— surprinsingly was the eleventh harbinger good with keeping his booze in, it‘s rarely for him to get real, drop dead drunk, but when he does— oh boy, you can be sure he won‘t stop talking to you the entire night. "have i told you about that time i dropped a whale on an entire army?" brazen words after arrogant notions, ajax cuddles himself against your back to try to turn you towards him, after all, he thinks you weren‘t listening with your body being turned away like that. after a deep-rooted yawn, you pull yourself to the left to face him, "you did." and cradle his cheek, "you did at last three times this past hour."

drunk! diluc who, much to his own embarrassment, needs to be taken care of. the man loathes alcohol to his very core, but even he needs to occasionally drink a couple glasses with important partners who he had been collaborating and working with. "i can‘t feel my legs." he almost whines at the loss of his senses, numb and tired as you repeatedly dapped a cold washcloth on his forehead while he was continuously pinching his biceps, "that‘s your arm baby." your expression softened slightly as you carried on to clean him up. as it was time to turn in for the night, you felt diluc‘s intense, warm presence closer than on any other day before, "please don‘t leave." his words find your ears with such ease, like a piece of his own soul, a bright, hopeful voice, full of hope but webbed in bristling fear, "i won‘t."

drunk! cyno who— and this really doesn‘t surprise you at this point in time, pompously shows off all his aquired and bundled up jokes, you had, in the beginning of your relationship, thought that what if he would genuinely turn out to be legitimately hilarious when in such wobbly state. "a tighnari and cyno walk into a bar." he pulls his mask off and places it on a drawer that, and don‘t ever tell him that, but there isn‘t a drawer there, he‘s just imagining things, "knock knock, *hiccup* who‘s there?" cyno quickly stops himself as you pick up the mask and put it on a real drawer, sliding into the warm bedsheets beside him afterwards, "wait, that‘s not how the joke goes." the man wrinkles his nose in thought, blinking rapidly while looking at you through puppy eyes, as if you had an actual idea on what he‘s talking about.

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