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tender-rosiey · 1 year ago

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i need more dad!gojo pls 😔🙏🏼

sulking — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: there was an anon that requested this scenario specifically but for some reason I genuinely can't find their ask so anon if you see this, i hope you will like it! <3

“s/n! get your tiny naked butt over here!”

your son squeals as he waddles away from his chasing dad and goes towards you, “mama!”

“yes, honey?” you reply, before turning towards your son and finding him all naked. at least, he didn’t escape from the tub, since he is still dry.

you giggle and pick him up, “what are you doing you little trouble maker?”

he kicks his feet and points upstairs, “pa!”

“oh, you’re escaping from papa?”

your son nods eagerly, looking around for any sign of said man.

“found you!”

your son squeals and hides his face in the crook of your neck. you pet his hair and look towards your husband who is…also butt-naked. you sigh, “satoru, at least wear your boxers before you chase the kid.”

“aw come on, wifey; it’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” he smirks, leaning towards you and lovingly kissing your cheek, “plus you deserve a show every once in a while.”

you pinch his nose, making him abruptly pull back with a pout, “if you want to give me a show, don’t do it in front of our son, you over-grown pack of hershey’s.”

“do you mean the cookies and cream one?” satoru says, eyes shining at the mention of one of his favorite snacks.

“yes, and I hate it.”

he gasps audibly, before taking s/n from your arms and into his own, “let’s go, s/n! we shall not tolerate mom’s slander for the hershey’s again!”

and so your husband marches back with his (still butt-naked) son to the bathroom.

satoru sets s/n on the sink, and looks down at the tub, ��hey, at least the bathtub is full now,” he puts his hand in the water, “and it isn’t too cold for your small butt.”

s/n gives satoru his angriest look, before looking away with a huff.

satoru chuckles before tickling him, “you’re so cute,” s/n breaks character and starts giggling, and satoru starts cooing, “you act like your mama when I annoy her.”

satoru swiftly picks him up in one arm and points at the stash of bath bombs, “which one do you want to use?” he walks towards the box, and s/n instantly holds it with his strong hands.

satoru laughs, “oh you want all?”

s/n doesn’t respond. instead, he aggressively pulls the box towards him, luckily, satoru is able to hold it in his other hand before it fell.

he looks at his son with a pout, “you were going to create a mess, little guy.”

“mess!” your son claps and your husband can’t find it in him to scold him.

so your husband joins in on his chaos and raises him up high, “yes, big mess!”

your son squeals, reaching for his dad’s cheeks. then he starts rubbing his face on satoru’s the moment he is low enough to reach him.

he starts biting satoru’s cheeks and screams, “love you, baby!”

“love you too, my little buttered cookie,” satoru coos, unfazed by the baby eating him alive. he doesn’t let him linger though as he pulls him off his face, “time for a bath, stinky.”

s/n frowns and tries smacking satoru, but your husband quickly gets into the bath. the moment s/n touched the water, he started clapping and trying to dive deeper into the water.

satoru held him just above the water so he doesn’t fall into the bathbomb-filled water, “nuh-uh, you’re not going to fall face first into the water,” satoru spins s/n so he can settle him into the bath butt-first.

s/n wastes no time in playing with the soap foam and starts splashing everywhere.

your son is sat on the stair of the bathtub—a huge bathtub by the way, satoru specifically ordered this one for other activities though. s/n is beyond the moon and almost treats the little stair like his throne.

your husband can’t stop smiling, to the point his face starts aching, and he starts using the bubbles to form two little cat ears on s/n’s head.

your son’s curiously keeps trying to look up, but starts huffing when he can’t see the top of his head.

satoru then decides that the best solution is—“y/nnnnn! can you come over here with a camera?”

“okayyyy!” he hears you yell and shifts his attention to s/n to keep him entertained until you appear.

he leans down a little, exposing the top of his own head to his son and challenges him, “do your worst.”

your son’s—clearly inherited—competitive nature fuels him into gathering as much as bubbles as he can to place it on his dad’s head.

after that, he starts diligently molding the foam into the shape he had in mind. satoru just keeps on humming quietly, letting s/n do his magic.

once s/n finishes, he retracts his hand and clumsily mimics his dad’s proud pose, and satoru feels happier and happier as he spends time of his little ball of joy.

caught up in his emotions, he picks up s/n to hug him, but s/n slips from satoru’s grasp and into the water.

your husband is panicked right away, hands frantically searching and splashing around to get hold onto anything of his son.

he has half a mind to blast all the water away, but quickly decides against it, especially when he hears a “boo!” behind him.

your husband turns to s/n, who is giggling at finally getting to his father, and hugs him tightly, “papa’s sorry he dropped you, s/n.”

s/n, ever the empath, starts imitating what he see you and satoru do when the other is sad: he starts patting his dad’s back with a murmur of “’s ‘kay.”

satoru thinks he is going to sob right then and there, but you finally enter the bathroom, and satoru and s/n quickly perk up at your presence.

“mama!”

“wifey!” satoru grins and starts scrambling to make a new pair of cat ears on s/n.

and so you’re met with one of the cutest sights of your baby that you have ever seen. he is beaming with a smile so contagious that you don’t even notice one being instantly on your face.

he is also sporting a pair of bubble cat ears, so, of course, you get out your phone and start snapping away.

“s/n, look at mama!”

“yay!”

after a couple of photos, you hear someone clear his throat, and you look to your side to see a very pouty satoru. he huffs and looks away from you, “imagine ignoring the love of your life for a small mochi.”

“we made this small mochi, ‘toru.”

“exactly!” he declares then locks eyes with you, “that means I am the original and I should be appreciated more, anyway—what do you think of his cat ears?”

your husband’s tone switches almost instantly and starts fangirling about s/n, taking him into his arms and lightly bouncing him on knee, “he is so cute! almost as cute as me, right?!”

“you’re so right! he is the cutest cutie to ever exist!” you coo, arms reaching out to s/n, and your son throws himself into your arms with no hesitation.

you secure in your hold before chuckling, “you’re mama’s cute boy, right?”

you feel satoru stare daggers at your soul, but ignore him for the time being, “did you actually shower or do anything to clean, s/n? you smell stinky.”

your son frowns at that and buries his face in your shoulder to sulk. you stifle a giggle and question your husband about something that has been on your mind since you entered, “also, satoru—“

he perks up.

“—what is that blob of bubbles on your head supposed to be?”

and that, my friend, is how you got stuck in the bathtub with your two boys, each burying their face into your shoulders and—you guessed it—sulking.

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elisezone · 1 year ago

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um i NEED a baby fever felix fic please?? like the whole breeding thing has MY soul

Oh, anon, you get it. You totally get the idea.

𝕱𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖝 𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖔𝖓 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖇𝖆𝖇𝖞 𝖋𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗

Warnings: nsfw, breeding

:**:.☆*.:｡:**:.☆*.:｡:**:.☆*.:｡:**:.☆*.:｡:**:.☆*.:｡:**:.

Firstly, I just know Felix wants kids. He’s always imagined one, two at most. He was brought up on the idea that he needed to keep the family name alive, to have a son, an heir. I can imagine Elspeth keeping up this mantra throughout Felix’s life. Telling him it’s what he’s made for, it’s his duty as their son.

He would want to be the first. He would want to have a baby before Venetia (although i doubt she’d ever settle down).

But he would want to do it first. He would make the family proud.

He kept this idea up his whole life, he needed to settle down, marry and have a baby as soon as he could.

He looked all over for the right person, he knew it was you. As soon as he held your hand on the first date, he knew you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

Felix would bring it up with you frequently, little jokes here and there. Late night chats “what would you name our baby?” Type thing. But deep down you could tell it was what he truly desired.

He would confront you just before your last weeks at Oxford, you were about to enter the world.

We would lay down on the foot of your bed, looking up at you lovingly as you read over your notes. A feeling of ease in the air.

“Darling?” He looks up at you, that mischievous look in his eyes you’ve come to associate with lust. “Felix, baby, not right now”. He strokes your leg lovingly, admiring the tan you’d gained from the early summer sun. “No, sweetheart, not that” he laughs.

He looks up at you, grinning, “you know.. you now how we want to be married” he rolls over, gazing at the ceiling as he takes a drag of his long dead cigarette. He waits a beat, seeing if you’d reply. “I’ve been thinking. About our future.”

And that’s where it all began.

It took a long time to convince you, I mean, you were young. You were both very young. Yet you couldn’t see a future without Felix, he was your whole world. You couldn’t imagine marrying anyone else.

From then on, every time he’d fuck you, he’d have intent. He needed to have you, fully have you. He can’t wait to see you stuffed with his cock, it’s all he thinks of throughout the day.

He would hold off having sex sometimes, just to build up the tension. Because he knows that when he wants to cum, he only wants to do it inside of you. Deep within your pussy.

He fucks you hard. Like it’s his last wish on earth to knock up his princess. As he thrusts into you wildly, he imagined how godly you would look with a round, swollen belly. How absolutely delicious you would be, helpless, unable to cope properly without him.

With a hard grip on your hips, Felix fucks himself harshly into you, desperate to breed you fully. To fuck you stupid.

You can feel him falter slightly, his thrusts become erratic. He’s close. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer to you.

The thought drives him insane, over the line as he cums with hot ropes into your pussy. He fold over, caging you with his arms. His chest heaving. His body glistening, sweat beading down his chest.

“Fuck. Oh god- babe. You’re mine. Always mine, you always will be”

He throws forwards a few experimental thrusts and lets out a deep moan. “So fucking good for me”

You look so gorgeous, laying beneath him, completely still. Your pretty body twitching with pleasure.

And he refuses to pull out for so long. Making sure he knocks you up. Plugging up your sweet hole with his seed.

And then he realises, he will have to marry you soon too.

#saltburn #felix catton x reader #felix catton #jacob elordi x reader #oliver quick x reader #felix catton smut #felix catton blurb

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my-castles-crumbling · 2 months ago

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Jegulus - Based on a request by an anon! - trans!Regulus - 531 - tw: mild dysphoria

He never outright said anything when it happened. At least, not at first. Bringing it up brought stomach aches and chest pains, goosebumps and anxiety. He tried, of course, to pretend it didn’t happen. But avoiding reality didn’t make it change.

James was sweet about not talking about it. He never pushed. He only asked about anything close to the topic when he needed to know something, or when Regulus brought it up. But he was also smart, and noticed patterns. So by the fourth-or-so month of them dating, Regulus knew he knew, without having to say anything.

And then…he started just doing things. Leaving things. Carrying things with him.

“Can I take that for you, love?” he’d always offer, grabbing Regulus’s heavy books when he saw the younger boy wincing with cramps.

“Do you need some pain potion? Chocolate? A granola bar?” he’d say with a concerned voice when he saw Regulus, paler than usual, between classes.

“Did you get the note I left for you?” he’d ask so kindly, tracing Regulus’s jawline lovingly with his thumb and reminding him of the letter he’d found sitting on his pillow that morning after he’d changed.

“D’you need a massage or anything?” he’d offer so casually when Regulus nearly-collapsed in a chair in the library, aches threatening to consume him.

But it was not all of these things that made the whole experience better, somehow.

It was the first time he actually had to admit to James what was happening.

“I need to go back to my room,” he mumbled to his boyfriend one day as they sat in a quiet alcove of the castle. Regulus had been reading while James was happily playing with his hair.

“What?” James asked, looking put out. “I mean, of course, whatever you need, but why?”

Regulus bit at his lip, worryingly. He didn’t want to offend James and he knew he needed to acknowledge it at some point but it was so difficult..

“I have my period,” he mumbled, looking down as his entire stomach sank to the floor. “I need to go grab…y’know…period stuff.”

“Oh!” James said, nodding completely unabashedly. “No need, love! I have some. Do you need tampons or pads?”

Regulus blanched at the words, unable to form any response. “Do-what?”

“Oh,” James responded, looking nervous. “Do you…do you use something else? I asked Pandora a while back and she said to carry these, but if it’s changed, I can-”

Regulus cut him off, completely taken aback. “You asked Pandora what I use for my period?”

“Yeah,” James shrugged, like it was normal. “I wanted to be prepared. You know… in case you ever needed anything.”

His brain was empty. “Boys don’t carry those things,” Regulus said numbly, still shocked.

But James tilted his head to the side. “You do, baby. You’re a boy. And I’m dating you. Why shouldn’t I carry them, just in case?”

Regulus blinked, a soft ‘oh!’ falling from his lips. “I…thank you,” he murmured softly, reaching to grab one of the objects James offered him.

When he got to the bathroom, he allowed the tears to fall. But for the first time, he wasn’t crying just with sadness. There was happiness there, too.

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dark-and-kawaii · 6 months ago

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bg3 men of your choosing and kinks?

Notes: Yummy!!! I got you dear anon xoxo

⟡ Characters: Halsin - Gale - Zevlor - Haarlep - Raphael - Wyll - Rolan

⟡ Content: NSFW - Kinks - Lots Of Kinks

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ Zevlor loves a good creampie. Like, please let this old man cum deep within you!!! It will literally make him go insane, his tail thrashing around behind him as he fills you so full of his seed. Especially if you let me do it after only just meeting. It’s been so long since he’s felt such warmth envelop his cock. Gods, and when he sees the way his white milky substance leaks out of you afterwards… it’s enough to keep him hard and wanting to go at it again. Maybe it’s part of the breeding kink he has, the dire need- of wanting a family to call his own. And you just look so pretty like this- with your legs spread and his cum spilling out.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ Haarlep is an incubus, a demon- a chaotic being so of course dacryphilia. Whether you’re crying from his cock stretching you or crying from the way this creature overstimulates you- he relishes in it. Haarlep adores taunting you, always adding a hint of mockery to his coos, “Awh my little Dove, does it hurt?” Before leaning down to lick away the tears running down that pretty face of yours he loves so much. “Or is it simply too much for your mortal body to endure?” As he lets out a wicked laugh, flashing you his infamous smirk.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ Rolan not only enjoys overstimulating you, but also craves being overstimulated himself. This grumpy tiefling wizard has more depth than meets the eye. He’s so pent up from studying and perfecting new spells that when he finally gets his hands on you he’s using your body as a means of release. He unleashes all his frustrations on your tight little fuck hole, pounding you relentlessly with his cock. Bullying that body of yours until you’re nothing more than a babbling mess with your tongue lolled out, until his body gives up on him, collapsing on top of you, gasping for breath. The slightest touch sending his body into shock.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ Raphael is a cocky bastard, and everyone knows this. Gets off on denying you your orgasm. Loves being in control of your body, mind, and soul- the devil will wait until you’re begging for him to give you your release- begging for his cock acknowledging that only he can bring you such intense pleasure. Telling him that no one- nor anything matters, only him. Once you’ve pleaded enough, he’ll express how satisfied he is with your obedience and will hint at granting you that long awaited release.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ Wyll adores praising you, worshipping you in your intimate moments. He genuinely worshiped every aspect of you, even finding all your imperfections incredibly beautiful. Especially if you have a scar, no matter how small or large, he’ll lovingly kiss along it. And he takes such delight in receiving the same level of adoration from you, as you worship his cock, the very cock that causes your toes to curl and your body to writhe beneath him.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ Listen, Halsin sometimes involuntarily shifts into a bear, and he always apologizes for it. But if you accept him for who he truly is, Gods he’ll be utterly smitten with you. As things start to get a bit more steamy his body begins to glow as he transforms into his bear shape. But, if you playfully giggle at him and start to run, enticing him to chase you by wiggling your finger, oh yes, it will not only arouse him further to chase you, but also show him you’re open to some unconventional foreplay. Being a bear he’ll eventually catch up to you and pounce on you as gently as he can. It’s so endearing to him how you softly plead, “oh no~ plllleeeease~ someone help~” as your fingers run through his fur.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ Gale is so cute, he just absolutely craves the sensation of your fingers tugging at his hair while you ride his face. He always smiles while probing you with his tongue when he feels your nails digging into his scalp as his stubble tickles between your thighs. And when it comes to your hair, well you best believe this man takes joy in giving a gentle tug here and there. Not too rough, but enough to crane your neck back so that he can lock eyes with you before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

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tteokdoroki · 1 year ago

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Thinking about the freshly corrupted priest Gojo pumping his dick in the confession booth while the sinful vixen sitting in the other cabin went from confessing her sins of corrupting one of the local fathers and having him cream down her throat to giving him instructions on how to handle his throbbing cock lovingly

Go faster now, father- squeeze the tip just a little bit...yes that's a good boy...now spit on it, make a mess of yourself and give everyone a show, all their eyes are peering down and up on you.

And with that, good morning aali my love <3

-glasses anon

☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. confessional.

about. you confess your sins to father satoru, but with the lust bubbling between you both, things get a little carried away.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, sacrilege, religious imagery/references, guided masturbation, male masturbation, priest!gojo, fem!reader, wc: 1.6K.

what good is a priest who can’t follow his own teachings? one that succumbs to the slightest hint of femme fatale?

gojo thought himself a strong man. a good one. but once again, he’d found himself drinking from the devil’s cup offered up by a lost little angel who has strayed away from her path to light.

“and i really didn’t mean to. father toji— i mean fushiguro— seemed so stressed! like he needed a helping hand.” you whimper unevenly from your side of the confessional booth. guilt buzzes in satoru’s veins as he imagines you teary eyed and distraught on the other side of the wall. the mere idea of you crying sends pleasure and lustful hormones shooting through his bloodstream and right down to his erection — the tip flushing a shameful shade of bright red.

you continue relentlessly, each word a breathless whisper laid over the swell of your sinful lips.“s-so i offered some relief in the only way i know how. i let him use my body, let him use my throat. he said it was okay…” but i just feel so wrong for corrupting him like that under the watchful eye of the lord. is it wrong that i liked it, father ‘toru. having that man’s cum pour down my throat?”

you’ve strayed too far away from the light and you’re pulling him into the darkness with you.

“f-fuck.”

“is something wrong father toru, your voice sounds rather strained.” by the tone of your own, he can just tell that you have your head cocked to the side innocently. perhaps your lip is caught daringly between your teeth — eyes gleaming with mischief while you mask your amusement at the damage you’ve caused. the young priest’s dick throbs against his inner thigh, smearing white along his baby soft skin. satoru grabs at his girth, squeezing it as if to stave off the pleasure that he should be disgusted by.

clearing his throat, gojo internally curses as the words stick to its ridges — almost as if he doesn’t believe what comes out of his own mouth next. “i-i’m fine. have you prayed? i’m sure he would forgive you for your sins.”

“i’ve been on my knees every night.” you mumble through a pout that he can’t see — earning another hiss from the priest while his angry red cockhead starts to bleed more arousal, forming a dark stain that seep’s through the fabric of his black slacks. “if you don’t mind me asking… does it hurt, father toru?”

“does what hurt?” he exhales slowly, pearly white lashes fluttering against the apples of his cheeks. gojo, against his better judgments, pops the button of his pants to provide some relief to his aching cock. it doesn’t help at all.

“your cock. father fushiguro felt the same after i confessed what i’d done with father getou.”

shit. “yes… it does.”

“i maybe be able to help.” your voice somehow sounds closer — as if you’re in the booth with him. “can you touch it… touch yourself for me, please?”

when you ask him so sweetly, how can father satoru say no? he follows your instructions like a man charmed by a succubus from the deep depths of hell. his whole body shudders and his breath stutters when he finally takes his forth between his king and slender fingers, squeezing at the base as precum beads like a rare oyster’s pearl in the centre of his slit.

this is so wrong. “holy…holy shit,” but it already feels so good. gojo hisses, chest heaving as he instinctively bucks into his closed fist. it’s warm, sends shockwaves of pleasure down his spine to build in his pelvis while each vein that wraps prettily around his cock pulses with a new wave of lust laden blood. “what should i…?” he coughs shakily, hips slowly beginning to fuck upwards to chase the feeling of his palm. “what should i do now?”

“spit on it, father.” you command him gently, blessing him with your praise where the higher being above might condemn him. “get it nice and wet for me, like i would, okay? squeeze the tip when you do—“

father ‘toru easily follows your word as if it reads passages from the bible. carefully, he leans forward — letting hot, gooey trails of spit dribble over his blistering and bright cockchead. his entire body twitches at the new sensation, which is surprisingly cool in comparison to how hot his body feels. sweat tracks it’s way down his body, soiling his hood robes and freshly pressed clothes. it makes his pure white locks stick to his forehead, and gathers on his cupid’s bow and it really is all too much.

he feels like hell on earth.

there’s a dull thud that echoes from satoru’s side of the booth, his head knocking against the wooden walls when it falls back. in the same breath, a loud and borderline pornographic moan rips it’s way through satoru’s firm chest — it battles through his lips (caught between sets of perfect white teeth), and reverberates throughout the confessional booth, no doubt catching the attention of people passing by.

“ohmygod,” comes his pathetic whimper while he clenches around himself once again, throat bobbing as he swallows down his sinful sounds. “why does that feel so fucking good? g-god, please!”

satoru’s fall from grace makes a sick smile spread across your lips and you cock your head to the side. you can only imagine what he looks like if this is how he sounds, his clothes a sweaty mess, his eyes delirious and darkened with ungodly and immoral desire. all this while he begs for god, begs for forgiveness, begs for you.

“you’re doing so well for me, ‘toru. can you go a little faster for me? now that it’s nice and wet.” the way his name falls gently from your tongue is like thick honey running through satoru’s ears — you drag a veil of lust over his mind and once again he follows your orders. he pumps himself faster, harder, precum slinging over the edge of his knuckles as they turn as white as his hair from the grip he has on himself.

he can’t help but let his mind stray and wander off into damned territory — chasing the vision that his clouded mind creates for him. would your cunt feel as good as this? wrap around him as tightly? a stream of unfiltered and colourful curses pour from gojo’s mouth in a similar manner to the arousal from his mushroomed tip, dripping a searing hot trail down to his throbbing balls.

lewd squelches slip through the cracks of the confessional booth and filter right through to you. satoru has no idea how pleased you are to have ruined him, how much you’ve longed to hear him mewl and sigh from touching himself against the will of god. “you sound so messy, ‘toru,” you moan out just to mock him a little — listening out for his strained and strangled whines, gargling down the saliva that pools on his tongue. “think you can make an even bigger mess for me, father? one that everyone will see. those above….” you purr, the tail end of your words harmonising with gojo’s hiccups. “and those below.”

satoru is no better than a sinner come to spill their truths to him. sitting there with his painfully hard dick in his hands, fisting it to oblivion as opaque white stains his hands and his fingers and his knuckles. there’s so much of it, so much lust and precum and he hasn’t even reached his peak yet. everything is so fucking hot, his dick slick between his sticky thighs and all-too-tight robes.

“almost there, satoru. i need you to let go for me.”

your goading voice through the thick oak wall pushes satoru’s hips to canter up higher and higher. he wants to please you so bad that it hurts and makes him cry. he whispers your name into the buzzing air like it’s a prayer, chanting it over and over again until it becomes the only word he knows.

“fuck… i can’t—“ gojo sighs airily, his thighs shuddering as the knots in his stomach begin to unravel. “christ… I feel like ‘m gonna burst!” angelic blue eyes roll deep back into the man’s skull, disappearing from the world to hide from the atrocities he’s committed.

“then let go, let it all out. you’ve done so well.” you say sweetly over the sound of gojo languidly jacking himself off. one, two and three more pumps before he’s releasing thick white ropes of cum over his robe and his chest — seeping into his clothes.

gojo’s so fucking dizzy, cumming so hard that he sees bright lights and swears that he’s landed at the gates of heaven — though he’s sure his actions today would stop him from getting in. there’s a ringing in his ear as he comes back down but all of his limbs feel heavy, he’s too weak to move.

“f-father satoru?” you whisper innocently, as if your very voice didn’t lead the man to death. “i think our time is up.”

“yeah?” he mumbles in response, the words slipping around on his tongue. “i think… you did good today. you’ll have to come back again next week, to make another confession.”

if only he could see your sick little smile, one might have thought you were the devil. who knows what’ll happen if you’re alone together in a confined space. “if that’s what you need from me, father.” you giggle slyly. “see you next week.”

“see you next week.” gojo repeats.

and just like that, you’ve dragged the poor priest into the corrupted depths of hell.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #satoru gojo smut #jjk smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #angelshubnetwork #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #✧ ₊˚✉️੭ — new notification #ʚ glasses anon anon’ ɞ

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ihrtslabyul · 2 months ago

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YOOOOOO I LOVED YOUR FIC OF "Twst Housewardens as animals", will there be any part for the vices? :0 If so, I will be faithfully waiting for it to arrive, remember to drink water and don't torment yourself if you don't have ideas, they will arrive on their own :D

-🔮 anon

YES OFC (and OMHAGAGA yayaya I have anxew anon(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠))

𝘛𝘞𝘚𝘛 𝘝𝘐𝘊𝘌 𝘏𝘖𝘜𝘚𝘌𝘞𝘈𝘙𝘋𝘌𝘕𝘚 𝘈𝘚 𝘈𝘕𝘐𝘔𝘈𝘓𝘚 ᨶᯃྀི✿

𓊆ྀི notes . . . first twst rq yippee! Also so sorry for the very long wait!!:( putting rook first because why not + PLEASE SENT TWST REQUESTS I AM WILLING TO SELL MY SOUL FOR THEM

𓊆ྀི currently listening to . . . You are my music by hi - posi

𓊆ྀི characters . . . Rook hunt , jamil viper , lilia vanrouge , trey clover , ruggie bucchi , jade + Floyd leech ( not adding ortho since idk how to write for him )

ROOK HUNT . . . as a afghan hound

- your dog who's literally fascinated by everything he lays his eyes upon! he truly seeks the beauty in every part of life, but sometimes you need to keep him in control whenever he is interested in something or someone because he won't stop bothering them! However he gets sad whenever you do that so please give him headpats to soothe his poor heart. But the most terrifying incidents that happened which included him is the times you woke up in the dawn of night,thinking someone is watching you when it's really just your furry bestfriend, big eyes staring into your soul.

JAMIL VIPER . . . as a cobra

- your extremely selfless snake who is sometimes hard to read sometimes , hes most of the times calm and reserved in his terrarium, he appreciates affection but not too much, specially on public when he's infront of his golden retriever friend, who goes by the name kalim because he knows kalim will talk his ear off about how sweet and loving his owner is! and whenever he gets the chance to showcase his tricks that you taught him,he will back down and hiss in response which indicates a immediate rejection. you really don't know why your viper acts like this.

LILIA VANROUGE . . . as a fruit bat

- ah yes your cheeky and "friendly" bat who loves to scare you on purpose by either appearing hanging upside down on the most random times to startle you. I mean you can't really blame him can you? It's fun plus seeing your reaction makes it even merrier for him! But he can be a serious bat sometimes, which is shocking to say atleast. He once poured a whole bag of salt inside the soup you were cooking,tarnishing the taste completely. You swear he was grinning when he saw you taste the soup and scrunch up your face in disgust. To him it was the best soup ever! He is the best cook ever known to batkind! Or faekind.

TREY CLOVER . . . as a hamster

- your extremely helpful and laid back hamster who always is there for you whenever you need something, TREY is like jamil in way , always calm and reserved , he also has a strange fixation on making you take care of his dental hygiene at all times and always forces you to take care of yours too! he also always watches you bake and hands you ingredients he thinks the recipe needs to elevate it more , and it really does help.

RUGGIE BUCCHI . . . as a hyena (well no shit)

- your sneaky and clever hyena who is troublesome at times , not letting you eat in peace unless you give him some of your food to him to feast on. Even if you don't give it to him he will just ran up to you as fast as he can and steal it right from your hands ( lovingly ) , he loves getting spoiled with both affection and gifts given by you , happy noises leaving his mouth as you rub his head (in the middle of his ears) , which indicates he's happy ! I mean he's always happy with his owner. ( Well not when your not sharing your snacks with him, he has one sided beef with you now until you feed him something nice. )

JADE LEECH . . . as a moray eel ( who could have guessed ong )

- when you first adopted him alongside with Floyd , he put up a fake persona where he was just a kind and soft eel unlike Floyd who was causing chaos everywhere , and then later you started to find out that he's actually a pretty devious eel , just like his twin brother. whenever you held him he had a tight grip on you , if you tried to pull him out of your hold he would bite lightly , enough for some crimson drops of arterial blood to come out when all Floyd did was just squeeze your hand. But both of them could be helpful and smart at times surprisingly, scaring off any people they find suspicious or people you hate.

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aventurineswife · 2 days ago

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Pls hear me out bcs this has been in my mind since FOREVER.

I have this idea of SAHSR with artist!reader 😖😖

Reader is a very talented artist that draws the characters and I like to imagine there's a whole museum filled with their arts of said characters

I like to think the paintings just spawn out of nowhere on the wall every few weeks lol

Maybe one day artist!reader has art block and no new paintings have been displayed, which makes everyone worry and confused until they started drawing their favorite character or something

"Artist note: Thank you for curing my art block, Sunday, I love you" and then 5 back to back portraits of him start appearing on the walls day by day LMAO

(If they see my drawings I'm burying myself in a grave🧍🏻‍♀️)

I'm lowkey new to your account, so I wanna be known as the 🤡 anon from now on if that's okay 😖 (Can't guarantee I'll drop by often)

NO BECAUSE THIS CONCEPT IS ACTUALLY SO PERFECT.

A self-aware HSR world where your art physically manifests into reality??? And not just that, but a whole ass museum dedicated to your work, where paintings of the characters just appear mysteriously on the walls every few weeks??? The way that would completely change how they view you is insane. 🙏😭

A grand, ethereal museum exists somewhere, where your artwork materializes on its own.

No one knows how or why it happens—only that every few weeks, new paintings appear, as if bestowed by fate itself.

The subjects of the paintings? The characters themselves. Their greatest moments. Their worst defeats. Their hidden smiles.

To the people of this world (aka the HSR verse), it’s a sacred place. A place that holds the true essence of their existence, captured by your divine hand.

Bronya, Gepard, and Argenti see it as a monument of unparalleled beauty. Your art is eternal proof of their existence.

Aventurine and Sampo act all casual about it ("Of course the great me would be featured!"), but internally, they memorize every single brushstroke you’ve painted of them.

Blade and Dan Heng? No thoughts, just ✨emotional damage✨. How do you capture their past so well? How do you see them so clearly?

Sunday and Black Swan analyze every single painting. Your art isn’t just art—it’s a glimpse into your thoughts, your emotions, your desires. And that knowledge is dangerous.

One day, the paintings stop appearing. No new portraits. No landscapes. Nothing. At first, they think it’s a test of patience. That you are simply waiting, watching. But then weeks pass. And the museum remains unchanged. Panic sets in. Did something happen? Did they offend you? Have you abandoned them? Some try to pray to you. Others try to seek out the museum’s secrets, searching for any clue as to why the paintings have stopped. Then, finally, after agonizing uncertainty, a new painting appears.

"Thank you for curing my art block, Sunday. I love you."

And with that, FIVE consecutive, highly detailed portraits of Sunday materialize on the walls, each one more extravagant than the last.

Sunday’s Reaction:

He doesn’t shut up about it for WEEKS.

Walks into the museum like it’s his own personal shrine now.

"Ah, yes. The Celestial Painter adores me. As expected."

He starts flexing it in front of the others. "Oh? No new paintings of you? Tragic. Can’t relate." (I love Sunday lmaoo)

Oh boy... If they ever find your sketchbook... I mean imagine!

The moment they find your personal sketchbook?

Yeah. No. You’re not living that one down.

Jing Yuan, Kafka, and Black Swan would be the first to pick apart every little detail in your sketches.

Himeko and Welt would be flattered but also deeply humbled. They know what it means to be immortalized in art.

March 7th would immediately take pictures and show them to everyone. "LOOK AT THIS CUTE ONE OF ME!!"

Blade and Dan Heng would absolutely implode. Seeing a soft, lovingly drawn version of themselves would wreck them emotionally.

Sunday? You already know. He frames your sketches of him. Personally.

You: "If they see my drawings, I’m burying myself in a grave."

Yeah, I'm gonna hold your hand for this one... You won’t need to. They are already worshipping you.

They revere your art because it is proof of their existence. They fear your silence because it means they’ve fallen from your favor. And when you return? They desperately seek your attention, your approval, your divine brushstrokes upon their forms.

You are not just an artist.

You are their creator, their storyteller, their muse.

And they will do anything to remain upon your canvas.

Sorry, this sounded a bit yandere now AHAHAHA...haha...ha...um... Yeah, BUG OUT!🏃‍♀️💨

Also, yes you can refer to that and don't worry!! 🫶

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hoffmansgirl · 3 months ago

Text

SALVATORE ━ father charlie mayhew 𒋲ㅤ͏

PART 1.・ PART 2 (coming soon)

summary. in search of understanding and compassion, y/n finds herself growing fond of her new priest and teacher, father charlie mayhew.

a/n: holyyy i'm so excited for this! it is based off a request that i can't find atm, anon u know who u are :D as always feedback is deeply appreciated & requests are open ♡

tw. blasphemy; subtle touches; slight praise?; father charlie is a teaseeeee! (basically, nothing too extreme just yet) | wc. 2862

Y/N was sitting in the schoolyard, pen moving against the page of her journal swiftly as she lost herself in the little world she created in her head. The feeling of grass on her bare legs somewhat comforting, taking off some of the stress blooming in her chest.

It was almost finals season in the catholic university she went to. Every few seconds she could hear the other girls' worried voices, discussing the importance of the finals, almost as if their lives depended on it.

Y/N leaned against the tree, deep sigh leaving her mouth as she closed her journal, fingers brushing against the cover almost lovingly. She looked around, the sun almost hiding behind the stone brick walls. A few groups of girls were scattered around the yard, girls she barely spoke to. It wasn't that they weren't kind, she just didn't feel like fraternising with any of them.

She was just... different. Slightly older than most of them, although no one besides the nuns and teachers knew that. And she wasn't really a believer. Her parents were. made her go to the church every sunday, pray every night. They did everything to make her the perfect daughter, but they failed.

It was probably a form of self defence; some kind of a protest against everything her family wanted her to be. She became a sinner. Got drunk, took drugs, smoked, and even slept with a boy or two. The last one made her parents so angry and so disappointed that they made a decision to send her to a catholic college. A catholic, girls' only college. The loneliness she felt in the place almost made her regret everything she's done in the past.

Y/N got up from the grass and straightened her skirt when the big clock on the wall struck a quarter to six. She had a mass to attend to, and it was obligatory to pass the semester.

Some of the girls looked at her when she passed, some greeted her with a smile. their souls so pure, so untouched, she almost felt jealous.

She entered the church soon after, the soft clicking of her Mary Janes against the marble floor disturbing the quietness of the temple. The smell of incense filled her nostrils, so familiar yet so distant at the same time. The church was still empty as she sat in the third row, staring down at her hands. Goosebumps covered the skin of her legs, the cold air making her shiver slightly. She folded her hands in a prayer, kneeling and focusing on the cross behind an altar.

"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Living one day at a time, enjoying one moment at a time, accepting hardship as a pathway to peace, taking, as Jesus did, this sinful world as it is, trusting that You will make all things right if I surrender to your will, so that I may be reasonably happy in this life, and supremely happy with you forever in the next", she chanted, voice quiet, eyes closing involuntarily.

She made the sign of the cross, feeling somewhat better after the short prayer. Her eyes opened, and she looked at the cross behind an altar, a small smile adoring her face. It was almost as if she could feel His presence next to her.

"I don't mean to interrupt", a low, yet soft voice came from behind her, and she was quite surprised at the fact she couldn't recognise it. Y/N turned her head, and her breath hitched at the sight of a young man in a cassock. His dark hair slicked back perfectly, and oh lord, he was so handsome, all of him. He looked more like a personal trainer of some sort than a priest. She could see his muscles even through the thick material of his gown. He walked towards her slowly, hands behind his back, pink mouth turning upwards, offering her a kind smile. "That was beautiful. It's rare to see someone so dedicated to prayer these days. Especially someone as young as you", he continued, now standing next to her as she kept wide eyes on him, his much bigger form towering over her. She cleared her throat, heart pounding in her chest. Y/N's cheeks burned as she realised he was waiting for an answer, playful glint in his eyes at the sight of her abashment.

"Excuse me, I don't mean to offend you..." the words word came out unsure, his intense gaze focused on her face, as if he was trying to memorise every detail about her. the young man nodded, meeting her eyes, and something dangerous sparked in his dark irises just for a moment. "I haven't seen you around here before".

"Of course. I should've introduced myself sooner, forgive me. I'm Father Charlie Mayhew", he clarified, the way his name rolled off his tongue made Y/N shift uncomfortably, hands shaking on her lap.

"I'm Y/N", she retorted quickly. "I'm so sorry for the directness, Father... but you are so young for a priest".

He chuckled softly, shaking his head, and Y/N couldn't help but smile, body finally starting to relax.

"And you seem too old to be a third year student, yet here you are", he noted playfully, sitting next to her on a wooden bench. Y/N gasped in disbelief at his sarcastic comment, the urge to laugh too strong now as she pressed her lips together in attempt to stop it.

She crossed her legs, the already short skirt riding up her thigh, and Father Charlie wasn't oblivious to that. She didn't notice the way his jaw tightened, shaky breath leaving his mouth, gaze lingering on her bare skin for a little bit too long.

"I must admit, Father", she started, leaning back against the cold wood, eyes focused on the altar, hands back on her lap in order to warm herself up. "I haven't confessed in ages. And never of my own accord", she spoke softly, the weight of her sins unbearable now, her head tilting to look at him, "And I'm not a saint. I've done a lot of things i'm not proud of. i still do", she admitted, the last sentence coming out as a whisper. She expected to see disgust in his eyes, maybe some signs of pity; yet all she found was an understanding going deeper than she would've expected. Father Charlie nodded, deep sigh leaving his mouth. He cocked his head, and Y/N couldn't help but notice the way his jaw clenched uncontrollably, the air between heavy, weird tension rising between the two.

Her eyes followed his every single move, unable to look away, mesmerised by his angelic presence.

"We are all sinners, Y/N", Father Charlie met her eyes, yet he looked absent, as if there were other things bothering him at the moment. "If you ever feel the need to talk, about anything, I will be more than happy to help. Come to me anytime", he reached for her leg, never breaking eye contact as he traced his thumb over her thigh softly. His words seemed so ambiguous, so wrong, almost blasphemous, considering his position. Yet she nodded her head politely, her gaze landing on his lips, need beginning to consume every single part of her body.

In that moment, she felt like she could trust him with her life. His presence so intimidating yet comforting, like a warm hug that she oh so desperately needed.

"I will keep that in mind. thank you, Father", Y/N pressed her thighs together, licking her lips nervously. He nodded, squeezing her thigh for the last time before standing up. Y/N shivered at the sudden coldness surrounding her, thigh burning from his soft touch. Charlie's eyes running over her form for the last time before he turned away and left.

Y/N exhaled, gripping at the edges of the pew tightly, and she swore she could hear her own heartbeat in the quietness of the church.

Lust. Yet another sin to add to the already long list. The very thing that made her parents send her to a catholic school, yet here she was, desire consuming every part of her body as she saw Father Charlie in the back of her mind, the memory of his warm hand on her thigh making her head spin. She felt pathetic at having such unholy thoughts about a freaking priest, the old version of her, the sinner, buried deep inside, beginning to set her body aflame, and it scared her.

She almost laughed hysterically at the ridiculousness of her current position as she looked at the altar again. The cross behind it almost mocking her, it's as if she could feel the disappointment of her Lord as she gazed at it blankly, the image of Father Charlie's smile appearing in her head yet again.

A few days passed, and it was as if Father Charlie vanished into thin air. It made Y/N wonder if he wasn't all an illusion, some sort of manifestation of her desires. Ever since the rather unusual encounter in the church, she hasn't seen him. His words echoed in her mind pretty often. "Come to me anytime". He had to be real. She actually contemplated reaching out to him, going into the church fifteen minutes before the mass started in hope of seeing him again.

Yet he never came. And she was disappointed; she grew fond of him, even though they only talked once. Loneliness sparked in her chest yet again, now more than ever. Yet she continued with her classes, being as perfect as ever, never letting anyone see through her. The only thing she could think of was his him, a devilishly handsome priest, whose eyes haunted her even in dreams.

When Y/N woke up that morning, sun shining through the curtains, an image of Father Charlie appeared in her mind once again. She hated herself for thinking about him so often, yet his smile seemed to be stuck in her head, his voice echoing through her head like some sort of a dreamy psalm.

It was Wednesday; which meant there was a hard day ahead of her. Bible reading classes with Sister Megan, whom she adored, very much, but her presence felt melancholic, as if she was sucking the life out of Y/N. She was so pure, as every single girl in the university, and it made her angry. Angry because she couldn't relate to any of them, angry because the only person who seemed to understand her was Father Charlie. Father Charlie who disappeared as quickly as he appeared.

She groaned at the thought of him, rubbing her eyes slowly, stretching, dramatic yawn leaving her mouth.

The air felt hot on her skin, smile appearing on her face nonetheless, eyes squinting involuntarily as she took in the weather outside the window. It was such a beautiful day, summer air making her feel better as she got up slowly, starting to get ready for the day.

It was ten past eight as she left her room, locking it before walking down the hallway to leave the residence hall, her heels clicked against the wooden floor as she walked, the silence almost suffocating, a musky smell of the antique building filling her lungs. She took a left and walked through the classroom door confidently.

"Good morning, Sister", she looked at the spot behind the teacher's desk, expecting to see Sister's Megan contagious smile, yet she was met with Father Charlie's intense gaze.

She inhaled softly at the sight of him as she stopped in the middle of the class, heart throbbing in her throat. She was mad that, once again, he looked absolutely breathtaking; not wearing a cassock this time, instead there was a black suit that cling perfectly to his muscular body. His ring glistened in the sun as he drummed his fingers against the desk, back pressed against the back of the chair comfortably, legs spread wide, almost inviting her to come in between them, and her heart throbbed with longing at the sight.

"Well, good morning, Y/N", he smiled and looked her up and down shamelessly, his gaze making her feel small as she returned his smile hesitantly.

"Cha- Father", Y/N breathed, chewing on her bottom lip, unsure what to say. He was the last person she expected to see, but she was relieved to see him. "Is Sister Megan sick?"

She walked to the front desk slowly, putting her bag down on the wood, eyes never leaving his form.

"No need to worry. Sister Megan is perfectly fine. Although I will be the one to conduct the Wednesday classes from now on", he explained, flashing his white teeth at her as he smiled. She thought that he looked really happy to see her; happiness bloomed in Y/N's chest, body starting to get warm, heat lingering in between her thighs.

"Good", she breathed a little bit too enthusiastically, the excitement obvious in her voice. "I wanted to come and see you, Father, but it seems as if you were... absent", she wet her lips, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt mindlessly, battling her eyelashes. The gesture made Charlie twitch in his seat; her faked innocence was adorable, her body and eyes betraying her true intentions right away.

"Yes, I was quite busy", he sighed, getting up abruptly. "Why did you want to see me? Did something happen?", Charlie asked, genuinely curious as he walked over to Y/N, standing right in front of her crossed legs. Her breath hitched as she looked up, meeting his gaze, tensing at the closeness.

"I...", she hesitated, "I don't know".

A lie.

He half-smiled as y/n uncrossed her legs, gripping the edges of the desk until her knuckles turned white. Her chest heaved with uneven breaths, yet she never looked away from his eyes, tension inside of her stomach ready to snap anytime now.

"Y/N...", he leaned in, "Lying is a sin".

Charlie took a step back, his gaze hardening, almost becoming demanding as he clenched his jaw.

"Luke, 8:17", his voice almost taunting as he challenged her, dangerous glint in his dark irises.

Her palms became sweaty as she chanted: "For nothing is hidden that will not be made manifest, nor is anything secret that will not be known and come to light".

Charlie's smile almost predatory, adoration taking over his features as he tilted his head, hand reaching out to put a strand of Y/N's hair behind her ear. The girl's eyes fluttered shut as she exhaled through her mouth, the feeling of his warm hand on her cheek so right, as if he was meant just for her.

"Smart girl", he praised, voice low and proud. He dropped his hand, backing off and she finally felt like she could breathe again. She hated herself for enjoying his touch and words so much, his position more exciting than terrifying now. Yet they both knew he shouldn't be doing this, using her submissiveness to feed his own sick fantasies, teasing her until she broke. But there was no denying the effect he had on her, panties damp from the arousal coating them, embarrassment and guilt heavy on her chest, yet the lust blooming in her stomach stronger.

The air around her felt cold, even though it was hot outside. She so desperately wanted him to touch her again, but she woke up from the trance quickly, clearing her throat as the clock struck eight thirty.

"I'm sorry, Father", her voice barely above a whisper as she fixed her hair, jumping off from the desk as she heard her classmates' hushed voices from the corridor.

Y/N sat down across from him as she lowered her gaze, fidgeting with the hem of her skirt, face flushed as she tried to maintain her balance. Charlie's appearance as perfect as before as he sat back on the chair casually; disappointment bloomed in her chest at his stoic posture, thinking that it didn't affect him at all.

"You need to confess before the weight of your sins crushes you, Y/N", his voice dangerously low yet steady, spark in his dark eyes, before he greeted the other students as they walked in. Professional look on his face, the one she hasn't seen before, as he started the class, his words inaudible as she followed his every move with curious eyes.

Father Charlie was not just a priest. Something about him made her crave for him, all of him. He seemed to understand her so well, even though they barely spoke. She found comfort in his demanding yet affectionate manner, the way he praised her, touched her softly, almost as if he expected her to break if he pushed too hard. Heart filled with longing as she followed the movement of his lips, the way his silver cross necklace glistened in the sunlight. Dimples appearing on his face when he smiled at something her classmate said, dark eyes that kept on meeting her own.

So divine yet so cruel.

So tempting yet so forbidden.

━━━━━━━━━━

2024, hoffmansgirl ©

nicholas alexander chavez masterlist ✿ | about the author

#nicholas chavez #nicholas chavez smut #nicholas chavez x reader #charlie mayhew #charlie mayhew smut #charlie mayhew x reader #father charlie mayhew #father charlie mayhew x reader #father charlie mathew smut

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joi-me-hoi-me-noi · 1 year ago

Note

Hope your requests work now😁

I would like to request maybe todoroki and reader have a secret relationship and class 1-A thinks there’s something wrong with him so they follow him into a restaurant and they see him and reader kiss.

I’ll leave the rest up to you😁😊

OH MY GOD YESSSS!!! THEY'RE WORKING!! Also, thank you for your help and the request anon. Please enjoy!

TODOROKI x READER - SECRETS

As soon as they saw him 'accidentally' burn his UA outfit on the shoulder, they knew something was wrong. Todoroki would never do something like that.

"Midoriya, ask him what's wrong." Mina pushes the boy toward his friend.

"Hey Shoto, is everything alright? You've been acting strange." Shoto perks up at this and looks at Izuku.

"What do you mean?" Todoroki's leg was bouncing.

As Izuku was about to say something else, Sero tapes his mouth shut and stands next to Izuku.

"Sorry about that." Sero pulls the boy along until Shoto goes back to studying or whatever he was doing to distract himself.

"What the hell was that Izuku?!" You find yourself listening in on the group sitting directly in front of you.

"You told me to ask him." He gets hit over the head by Bakugo and then they continue whispering.

"Let me try." Momo gets up and approaches Todoroki.

"Hey, Todoroki. Do you want to study after class is finished?" He looks up at her.

"Uh, sorry, I can't."

"Why not? You owe me study time you know."

"I'm...I'm going out with family to a dinner. Apparently, I can't miss another one of those. Sorry." His foot is tapping yet again.

You shake your head at the group's antics and continue to focus on your work. The bell rings and you quickly pack your things. A hand slams down on your desk, startling you.

"In a hurry, L/n?" You simply nod and hurry to pack the last of your belongings.

You didn't have to look up to know it was Bakugo. Bakugo quickly snatches the notebook off of your desk and holds it above his head.

"Can I have it back please? I'm really in a hurry." You hold out your hand, waiting for him to give it to you.

"I just noticed how weird you're acting too. You know anything about Icy-Hot?" He moves his eyes to Todoroki then back to you.

"Why are you asking me? We don't even talk to each other." You send him a glare and using your quirk, you grab your notebook from his fingers.

You leave the room and quickly make your way to the dorms to get ready for your date. You look at yourself in the mirror and you know you look fabulous. A ding turns your attention to your phone, a text from Todoroki.

'Check your balcony.'

You simply shake your head while letting a small laugh leave your lips and open the door to your outdoor abode. As you look around, you see an ice slide that he created for you both to escape your dorms. He was at the bottom, giving you a small wave. You wave back and then let yourself glide on the slide.

"Well, you dress up nice. Let's go!" You pull him along as you both run through the woods to get to where you need to be.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Mina runs into the living room area of the dorms where almost everyone resided and opens the curtains to show them what she saw from her balcony.

"Todoroki left!" Everyone was flabbergasted, he would never.

"What if he's just playing with us." Everyone looks at Kaminari like he just said the stupidest thing in the world.

"He doesn't know how to play people!"

"Damn! Sorry!" Mina was already grabbing her jacket and throwing on her sneakers.

"Where are you going?"

"To spy on Todoroki! Are you guys coming or not?!"

All of sudden, the people who were still awake started to grab their things and put on their shoes.

"Let's go!"

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

"I'm so glad we made it to the reservation." You smile at your boyfriend lovingly as he does the same.

It was a beautiful venue, you wondered where he got the money to pay for this. probably from Daddy's wallet The stars twinkled onto the candlelit balcony where you both sat. He scootches his chair a bit to be closer to you as he holds your hand in his.

"You know I really do care about you." Shoto presses a gentle kiss to the back of your hand while looking at you.

"You're just new to this and it's okay, we all have our firsts." Your other hand is placed on top of his.

You kiss his knuckles and smile at him, the stars illuminating both of your eyes. As your hand moves off of his, he brings his hand up to the side of your cheek. You look into his pretty eyes; it was the first time he was initiating something like this.

"Can I kiss you?" You smile and watch as his lips turn into a soft smile.

"Shoto, you want to waste your first kiss on me? Are you sure?" You joke, looking away to the stars before he gently turns your face, so you look at him directly.

"I wouldn't want to kiss anyone else; I'll savor the moment forever."

That makes you smile even more until he starts to lean his head in and closes his eyes. The moment feels different than the cuddles and hugs, it's intense. Your eyes flutter shut as do his as your lips connect into a kiss. One of your hands resting on his shoulder while the other goes through his hair, messing it up slightly. His hand still rests on your cheek while the other is on your waist.

Soon you both pull away, slightly swollen lips and little grins on your faces.

"That was really... good. You sure it's your first time kissing someone?" That makes him let out a light chuckle.

"Yes, I'm sure. I want another." You both lean in again but you look to the right and see Uraraka hovering in the air, snapping pictures of you both.

"WHAT THE FUC-"

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

After walking to the perfect spot to watch Todoroki at his 'family dinner', they climb into a high enough tree to see what's happening and if he lied to them.

"Guys, what if it is a family gathering?" Izuku asks, playing with his hands nervously.

"Then we leave, but it's obviously not. He was acting wayyy too nervous about it when we asked." Mina tells Izuku.

The continue to sit in the tree until they see him sit at the table with-

"Oh my god! Is that Y/n?" Sero squints his eyes as well as everyone else.

Momo makes binoculars and holds them up to her eyes, pointing them at the table Todoroki sat at. Her mouth dropped and it was confirmed, he lied and he was going out with you.

"Hey, Ochaco. Wanna do something real quick?" Mina asks with a smile.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

"I can't believe you guys spied on us." Your arms were crossed over your chest while you walked back to UA with the group.

"You both were acting weird, we needed to know what happened to the both of you." Mina stated.

"Well now you know."

As you approach the doors of the dorms, Mr. Aizawa was standing at the entrance.

"Thank you for letting us go out tonight." You and Shoto walk by Aizawa, he gives the both of you a small nod.

"All of you who went out will have early morning training." Everyone groans, watching the two of you walk away free.

"Why don't they get in trouble?"

"They asked."

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Check out the master list here —> link

#fluff #requests are open #mha x reader #mha x reader fluff #mha fluff #todoroki x reader #todoroki fluff #todoroki x reader fluff #shoto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x reader fluff #shoto todoroki fluff

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bunny-jpeg · 6 months ago

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Hiii bunny, can i get a chocolate chip cookie and rootbeer with carlos sainz pretty pleasee

bakery menu

want to suggest your own order? check out the menu! thank you for the order, lovely anon! i have been meaning to write more carlos, so thank you for suggesting this! i always have a sweet spot for the root beer prompt!

chocolate chip cookie ("you're beautiful when you smile, but you're the prettiest when my cock is in your throat") + root beer (filming/recording) served by carlos sainz jr (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, oral sex (carlos receiving), filming, dirty talk

you could feel the subtle thud in your chest as you got down on your knees. the camera of carlos' phone was close to your face as you started to undo his belt. the sturdy leather felt good in your hands as you got it off of his waist.

you knew that carlos has a collection of videos and photos of you, all private of course. carlos would never sell or give away those intimate images of you. it was in a safe folder on his phone, where only he could access it.

"you look beautiful." he said as he took your cheek in his hand. he chuckled when you looked up at him, your gaze was so sweet. he then tapped your lips with his finger and smiled down at you, "te extrañé." he said truthfully.

you looked up at him, your hands on the waistband of his briefs, "on my knees, i look beautiful." you giggled a little before you kissed his bulge ever so sweetly.

he replied, "you're beautiful when you smile, but you're the prettiest when my cock is in your throat" then rubbed his thumb up against your pretty lips, "i could have you in any position and you'd be the most beautiful woman in the world."

you chuckled and gazed up towards the camera, you felt the flutter in your chest as you stayed there in front of him. he loved you so much, he thought of the world about you. and it was seen in how he interacted with you.

"i can't believe you are filming me. this is always embarrassing." you can feel the heat in your cheeks as you got close to his cock once more. you pulled his briefs under his impressive size.

he patted your cheek and said lovingly, "i only do it because you're so beautiful. i want to get you from every angle. so when we're apart, i have a part of you with me." then shuddered when you wrapped your lips around his cock.

it was going to be an erotic video over all, you were just beautiful with carlos' cock in your throat. you took him so well, learning how to take down his large cock was a bit much at first. but overtime you really learned over time. you shifted on your knees and held onto his strong thighs.

you took him so pretty, the way that you sucked his cock. it was just painfully prefect. it made you shudder a little bit when he grasped the back of your head and sank you further on his impressive length.

the sounds of sex filled the air, your wet mouth around his cock. you kept a steady rhythm and he groaned a little bit from the pressure. it all felt so good that it made the blood rush in his ears.

"my beautiful girl.' he cooed, "i'll be thinking about you the entire time i'm gone. and then when i come home with that trophy, i'm going to fuck you nice and slow. feel all of your body." he shifted in his seat and held the back of your head while you orally pleasured him.

he was hunched over you as he held your head. your mouth around his cock and it made him hot all over. he could feel the leap in his heartbeat as he kept his cock in your mouth.

you were perfect for him and it made it hard for him to keep recording. but he wanted to capture this for a lifetime. you took your mouth off him and kissed the tip before you slid back down on it. it made the spanish driver shudder at the feeling.

"my beautiful, beautifil girl." he groaned a little as he continued to rut his cock up against your throat. it made his heart beat a little louder in his ears as he felt the lust in his gut.

the camera was right in your face and for a moment you glanced at it before you closed your eyes once more and continued to suck him off. you shifted in your spot a little, wanting your lover carnally. you could feel the heat in your belly.

carlos was blissed out on the couch. he could feel his heartbeat in his throat as you sucked him off. it was painfully hot, the sight of you, the feeling of you. his hand wobbled as he held the camera, almost dropping it when the pleasure got too intense.

you looked up at the camera once more and smiled a little bit. you swallowed him down dutifully, and your heart slammed into your chest.

he leaned his head back and moaned, "por favor, mi amor." then came down your throat and it was like a punch in the gut when he felt you swallow him all down. the saltiness lingered in your mouth and he could feel his heart palpitations.

he almost dropped his phone and heavily panted. he said, "my beautiful girl. i love you." before he turned off the video and put his phone to the side. he shift on the couch and felt his sweat go through his t-shirt.

you slowly took your mouth off of him and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, getting all the spit off your chin. you rested on your heels and smiled up at him.

he got his cock into his briefs the helped you onto his lap. he put his head on top of yours and sighed happily. he loved the feeling of you, "you were so pretty on your knees." he kissed the crown of your head.

you wrapped your arms around him and giggled, "thank you. you weren't too bad yourself." then looked at him to give him a kiss on the lips.

he smiled into the kiss. the video would be stored away in a little bit. somewhere safe on his phone was only for his prying eyes. because with the rest of the season coming up. he wanted to make sure he had you from every angle.

his beloved angel. <3

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darlingdaisyfarm · 2 days ago

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r you still open for requests? if so and if you havent done this, stan twins taking care of reader on their period? im on my period rn and i lowkey am craving for it,, /nf!!

❥ Stan & Ford taking care of you on your period headcanons <3

a/n: oh anon this one's for you and for everyone dealing with the struggle right now <333 may ur cramps be mild 🙏

STANLEY

★ “what do you mean you feel like garbage?? you were fine an hour ago! what happened?? who do I have to fight??” and when you explain, he just. OH. THAT.

★ “okay, okay, don’t freak out, but,” he digs around in some closet and pulls out a very old hot water bottle. “this thing got me through some rough winters. i hope this will, uh. . . stop the angry uterus thing.”

★ if anyone (Soos, Dipper, some poor clueless tourist) makes a dumb joke about “mood swings,” Stan will protect you. “oh, you think that’s funny? let’s see how funny it is when I lock you in the Mystery Shack bathroom for a week with no toilet paper!”

★ will not let you lift a finger. so worried about your state he physically shoves you back down if you try to do anything. “nope. nope, nuh-uh, baby, don’t even think about it.”

★ if you're dying from pain and nothing helps, he just holds you close while dramatically saying “oh sweetheart, if only nature was FAIR, it’d be me bleeding instead! why this world is so unfair????”

★ of course he buys you snacks. SO MANY SNACKS. he heard somewhere that chocolate helps, so now he’s bought four different brands of cheap chocolate bars from the gas station

“uh, i got these. one of ‘em’s gotta be the magic one, right?”

★ “old man Mcgucket says bark tea fixes everything. should we. . . should we try bark tea?”

★ once Stanley pulled out a beer and immediately regretted it. “. . . wait, no, that’s for me.”

★ ofc he cooks for you. he’s a big believer that food fixes all things, even if he doesn’t understand the science of it. makes you the heartiest, greasiest, most filling meal he can. you might not even want it but it’s the intent. it's the love. (and if you actually ask for something? he’ll make it with no hesitation)

★ you look even slightly like you’re in pain?? immediate concern. hunched over? “alright, that’s it, you’re going on the couch.” he literally herds you over with his hands on your shoulders, forces you to get comfortable. “c'mon, c'mon, up ya go. feet up. blanket on. there ya go.”

★ lovingly teases you when you cry over dumb stuff, but only a little. “you're cryin’ over a commercial? sweetie, c’mon.” wipes your tears anyway. kisses your forehead after.

★ grocery store trip. Stanley standing in the feminine hygiene aisle, he calls you from the store like, “baby, what the hell is ultra-thin? why are there WINGS on these? you gonna fly away or somethin’? :(”

★ i have a feeling he'll get the wrong ones. Stan comes home proud of himself only for you to be like Stan these are panty liners. he’s FLABBERGASTED. “they were in the same aisle!! they had the same stupid pink packaging!!”

★ eventually, he settles into his caretaking mode, ruffles your hair, makes bad jokes to make you laugh even when you feel awful. if you get emotional from the hormones he panics a little but ultimately just lets you cry on his shoulder and pats your back

★ mutters “alright, where’s it hurt, lemme at it.” then massages your lower back, rubs your stomach clumsily but gently. Stan is determined to physically get rid of your pain somehow even if that’s not how it works

★ makes you rest by putting on a movie and forcing you to stay put. he picks the weirdest mix of old action flicks, crime shows and one sappy romance he swears he doesn’t like. (he totally does.)

★ if you’re in pain he's gonna fix it. but since he can’t punch your uterus, he does the next best thing. distracts the hell outta you. "alright, sweetheart, what’s it gonna be? poker? tall tales? let's watch duck detective?”

you giggle. “Stan, just cuddle me.”

“oh, yeah, you got it, c’mere.” immediately pulls you onto his lap, wrapping his big arms around you, rocking his most precious thing in the world.

★ if you're up at 2 AM, restless from cramps, Stan notices immediately “owwh, doll, let’s getcha comfy.” guides you to the couch, sets you up with a blanket, turns on some quiet late-night TV. he stays up with you, spending sleepless night taking care of you. he sits there, rubbing your back, making sure you’re okay

in some hours more though, he falls asleep next to you, head leaning against yours

STANFORD

★ HE KNOWS BEFORE YOU DO. this man has studied interdimensional quantum phenomena. you think he hasn’t mapped out your cycle like a scientist mapping the tides???? PLEASE

“sweetheart, shouldn’t you be starting your period soon?”

“what? no?? I feel fine“ and twenty minutes later, you’re in pain

“ah. as I suspected.” Ford says

★ literally tracks it like a researcher. has a whole-ass journal with little notes. estimates symptoms, cravings, moods. he says it's because “I want to be prepared for you”.

you catch him writing in it one day. “Ford, what is that?”

he looks guilty and awkward. “a. . . documentation of your menstrual cycle?”

you take it, open it and your eyes widen. it got a whole-ass formula for predicting your moods

“wtf Ford, you made a menstrual algorithm??”

he rubs the back of his neck. “well, i wanted to ensure that i could be fully prepared for any and all symptoms—“

you’re just staring at the notes, not even listening to him. “did you seriously track that I crave sour candy more than chocolate???”

Ford pushes up his glasses. “i prefer to call it an empirical observation, yes.” next thing you do is kiss him senseless, because this nerd is the most devoted man on the planet

★ i assure you, he's already stocked up. you go to grab something and oh . . . heating pad? already plugged in. pain meds? already out on the counter. ur favorite snacks? somehow already bought. tea? brewing

★ of course! of course you'll get his lectures about periods. “did you know that menstrual cramps are caused by the uterus contracting due to prostaglandins? i read a fascinating study on ways to mitigate the pain—“ but let me tell you, he’s rambling because he’s nervous about you hurting. also because he thinks knowledge = comfort

★ his gentle hands, always. adjusting your blanket. rubbing slow circles into your back. fingertips ghosting over your forehead to check if you’re feverish

★ absolutely 100%, without a doubt, Ford takes notes on what helps you. if you ever say something like “ugh, this tea actually helps a lot” he writes that down. if you offhandedly mention “i think dark chocolate makes it better” he’s buying you ten bars of it next time.

★ he tries to keep you distracted. puts on old sci-fi movies and nerds out over them. reads aloud from a book if you want because he knows you love his voice

“did I ever tell you about the time I discovered a species that only reproduces once every ten years?” he just TALKS to you. calmly. thoughtfully. lets his voice carry you away from the pain.

★ he will stay up with you if you can’t sleep. even if he’s exhausted, even if he has research to do. if you’re in pain, he’s right there. “sleep, darling. I’ll stay up for a while. you need to rest.” strokes your hair until you do and presses a kiss to your temple when you finally drift off.

★ Ford can’t stand inefficiency. the first time he hears you complain about normal period products, he rubbed his chin, thinking. you’re uncomfortable??? with a problem that science could potentially solve???

“hmph. there must be a better way.” he disappears into his lab for hours.

★ what he makes depends on what you complain about! hate pads? “ah. they’re inefficient, bulky and uncomfortable. yes, darling, I see the flaws.”

hate tampons? “too absorbent, prone to leaking at unpredictable rates. . . fascinating, but flawed.”

cramps?? “prostaglandin-induced muscle contractions. I can work with this!”

no problem is too small. he listens to every complaint

★ “i will revolutionise menstruation, darling!” you're so proud of him. Ford is proud of himself too

★ normally, he treats you like his equal, his partner, his greatest love. but when you’re sick ohh he secretly loves having an excuse to baby you. he brings you tea and tests the temperature on his wrist before handing it over. he fluffs your pillows, tucks you in way too snug. if you groan in pain, he’s immediately alert. “what is it? what do you need? tell me, dearest, I’ll get it.”

i can't believe i wrote an entire fic from Ford's pov journaling reader's cycle, im going insane

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darlingsfandom · 1 month ago

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It’s all “Acting”

anon: I was wondering if you could write a request for cnc with Cillian, where he and reader are doing a hot scene for peaky blinders in a different scenario (like the one with lizzie in the canal), but the scene gets too steamy irl?

TW: CNC, age gap and people watching

It started with just a small kiss behind the scenes one night, it never meant to end up like this. You stood face to face with Cillian, lipstick smeared with your hands on his shoulders. Cillian had his hands on your waist as the two of you stood making eye contact.

“This isn’t actually happening…” you whispered before a small chuckle left his lips.

“But it is darlin! It’s been six months since we started working together and you, you are perfect.” He looked at you like a lovesick puppy. It was a secret that the two of you had started dating only after three months of working together , but when you spend all your time with someone on and off set it wasn’t hard to imagine.

“I know I know, but it’s just crazy! I mean you’re old enough to be…”

“I know I’m old enough to be yer father .” Cillian playfully rolled his eyes while fixing your lipstick because you two were about to walk onto set as normal and shoot a scene that would be sensual. You shook your head before he helped you fix your nightgown and snuck in a little kiss on your shoulder making you giggle.

The two of you walked onto set, Cillian let you walk on first , wait a minute or two and then come in himself that way no one would know none the wiser. You were laid up in the sheets with an old book in your hand pretending to read when he leaned against the door frame with his forehead against his arm as he watched you. The thing was that the scene hadn’t even started shooting and he wanted nothing more than to ravish you right then and there. The glow of the lighting, the perfume you had on and how soft you looked was driving him mad.

“And … action!” The director yelled out making you shiver because you knew what was coming.

Cillian straightened up, walked forward and stopped at the edge of the bed with a raised eyebrow. “That was quite a stunt you tried to pull during dinner darling.” He stepped towards you , grabbed the book from your hands and set it down. You tilted your head with a bit of a sour expression.

“You think that was a stunt? Oh my love you are mistaken. I promise…” your finger tips trailed up his bare chest, “that what you called a stunt will have that investor back here by tomorrow morning.” His lips curved into a smirk before a laugh left his throat .

“Oh you better hope so …”

“Or what? I might not be an intimidating man but a Shelby woman and that is even more dangerous!” Your lips brushed against his before he cupped your jaw.

To those shooting the scene the two of you were just doing your job but what was really happening was between the two of you.

His hands grabbed your hips while pushing you back onto the sheets. The two of you locked lips, kissing lovingly , carefully nipping at each others lips while he grabbed the blanket to cover the lower halves of your bodies. This wasn’t the first time the two of you had actually got into the scene so he knew what he was doing.

“Relax.” He whispered into your ear as his mouth moved down the side of your jaw, across your throat and inbetween your cleavage. Soft whimpers left your lips to which he nipped at your skin to remind you that you’re not alone. Cillian kept his face between your breasts inhaling your perfume as his hands worked their magic below the blanket.

His fingers trailed slowly up your thighs, breath hitched in your lungs as you felt his fingers tease the lining of your nightgown before lifting it up enough to look at the fact you did not put anything under neath. He furrowed his eyebrow a little but still kept a straight face that way no one would know. Cillian swiped his fingers through your wetness that had been dripping slowly down your thighs since he had kissed you. You cheered your cheek while he slid two fingers into you easily since he knew you could take it.

He watched your face closely as it twisted while he twisted his fingers inside of you. Cillian didn’t take it easy either, he worked his fingers faster inside of you making you buck your hips so the rough palm of his hand rubbed against your clit. Your toes curled into the sheets while he pressed down your pelvis. Cillian adjusted his boxers so he could easily pull out his cock and pumped it slowly before he pulled out his fingers, licked them clean and lined up the head of his cock to your swollen folds.

“Fu…” His lips attached to yours before you could finish that thought. He always stretched you out at first when he fucked you but not this time! It hurt more than normal, but that’s probably because you had to lay there and just take it. You couldn’t spread your legs, no wrapping them around his waist or throwing them over his shoulders, you had to be a lifeless doll in a sense. Your hands grabbed his arms as he pushed his cock all the way inside you. His own moans were swallowed up by your kisses.

Cillian gave you a moment before he started thrusting into you. Luckily this scene did call for it to be a little rough, however Cillian knew if he got rough it would be a dead give away of what was happening since you liked it rough. Your hand slid up his arms and around his neck, applying some pressure which made his eyes roll back into his head with a sly smile on his face. His thrusts did pick up a little and you whimpered just enough that made Cillian squeeze your hips until they bruised .

The two of you kept eye contact as he pushed his cock deep inside of you harder. His hands moved up your stomach , over your breasts and put them on either side of your head for balance as his mouth hung open. You wanted to scream his name but you couldn’t. He couldn’t hold back his thrusting anymore and actually started to fuck you hard making your eyes roll back as your lips parted. He wanted to let loose and give you everything he has in him but he can’t. Normally he wouldn’t care like that time in the bathroom while having diner with your friends or the time he fingered you during a script reading, or just like last week when you woke up from your nap with his cock deep in you as he was filling you up with his warm load but this was a tv set after all with cameras which reminded him that he needed to ask you about making a sex tape but that was later, this was now and right now he was enjoying how good his cock felt being squeezed by your warm wet cunt.

You could tell he was close by the way his thrusts were getting sloppy, how his eyes were closing and how he was trying to hide his face into your neck. Your nails scratched his back as your own orgasm was sneaking up on you. You squeezed your eyes shut as you bit your bottom lip and relaxed enough to cum on his cock. The feeling of you cumming had Cillian panting hard into the crook of your neck while his own orgasm washed over him. His hot load filled you to the brim, the liquid dripping down your legs as he hugged you tightly.

“And.. Scene! Very good, very realistic.” The director clapped as the two of you laid there with smirks on your faces.

“It’s called Acting.” Cillian chuckled before he looked at you and gave you a playful wink.

#cillian murphy #emsblurbs #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy drabble #cillian x reader #cillian murphy imagine #thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby smut #au cillian murphy #cillian murphy au

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calypso-apologist · 1 month ago

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Hello lil 🦔anon here, big fan of your blogs, you make great stuff. Also epic is freaking amazing. Could you write something with Ares? Sorry just really like him. Uhm have some sparkles ✨✨✨and I wish you a happy day -🦔

i have no idea what blogs you're talking about i don't even exist-

Ares relationship headcanons ♡

Babygirl (gender neutral), you are dating a god who is probably the most protective man around.

If someone looks at you in a way that makes you uncomfortable, he will get into a fight with them.

And if they actually disrespect you? He is more than delighted to kick their ass and start a war over your honor.

But he is also a lovesick puppy for you.

He's very respectful with you! But also very touchy.

He needs to keep an arm or a hand around you at all times. Preferably around your waist or shoulders.

Although, since he has wide shoulders (i'm imagining Neal illustrator's Ares while writing him), he'll happily let you sit on his shoulder, securely keeping a hand on your hip.

He lets you tend to his injuries after his many battles. As grumpy as he can be about it at first, your kind and tender touch is enough to melt his attitude away, leaving him gazing lovingly at you.

He kisses each of your fingers afterwards to thank you properly. And then both your cheeks. And your forehead. And then finally your lips.

He insists you need to lay next to him as he rests after battle. Your presence helps him heal, can't you see? You need to be there, right next to him!

Besides, what if something happens and he's not around to protect you?! He can't take that risk, you need to be right by his side. Don't try to fight him on this, he's a stubborn bastard.

Well, I guess he's one of the non-bastards. But you know what I mean.

A very stubborn, but also very loving non-bastard.

#epic #epic musical #epic the musical #epic the musical x reader #epic musical x reader #epic x reader #epic the musical ares #epic ares #epic musical ares #epic the musical ares x reader #epic musical ares x reader #epic ares x reader #ares #ares x reader #ask #anon

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deathbxnny · 2 months ago

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Ooh ooh i love your headcanons, would it be possible if i request some headcanons of Capitano, Baizhu and Childe with a Jingliu!Reader please?

Genshin men with a Jingliu!Gn!Reader. | Capitano, Baizhu, Childe

Here you go, Anon!!<3

Content: Angst, Reader is a bit unhinged, battles, established romantic relationships, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》CAPITANO

He knew you from way before your nation fell. You were a legend. A well-known and respected warrior who carried themselves with pride at all times. Your blade never rusted nor dulled. You were strong. And he looked up to you for as long as he could remember you.

But alas, the curse had even gotten to you. It didn't rot you from the inside out but instead corroded your mind permanently. Nothing you did was as clean or precise anymore. You were unpredictable and near unhinged at times, your bloodlust a tragic insult to your previous legacy as you yearned for battle. He entertained you in such moments often, just to keep you from hurting others.

Your memories have faded even for him, but that doesn't mean that he isn't willing to remind you of anything you want to know when asked. He's patient and calm, knowing that deep down, you were still stuck in a never-ending battle, but this time against yourself.

Since there is no cure for either of you, you've become content in eachothers company. You are kind and soft whenever you aren't lusting for death and carnage, so life isn't all too terrible. You lead troops at his side and train them to perfection naturally.

Capitano is thankful for every moment you decide to spend at his side, as that way, he still at least has one good thing going for him in this cruel world.

》BAIZHU

He met you in terrible condition, as you were suffering from severe side effects from your condition. It took him a while to figure out how to heal you the best he could and eventually settled on simply blindfolding you to alleviate the pain and sudden outbursts from you. You didn't leave after you got back onto your feet and stayed at his side ever since.

You made his life a lot brighter and warmer than it previously was. You were kind and patient with his condition, even visibly concerned for him on days when he could barely stand. You both know that his end was near, yet yours would eventually come too. In a way, you both found yourselves to be equals in that sense, which made your bond grow stronger.

Your bloodlust and need for battle make you very unpredictable and even dangerous at times, but he has learned how to deal with it perfectly over time. He's in fact the only one that can make you snap out of it when needed.

With that said, neither you nor Qiqi are permitted to run around Liyue alone together. One of you would always forget what you even went out for to begin with, whilst the other would ponder about life philosophies and completely derail your quest of getting the thing you were even sent out for. It was a mess every time, and he decided that the chaos was just not worth it...

》CHILDE

You had met during one of your unpredictable outbursts. A violent battle ensued, and by the end of it, he felt a connection to you that left him breathless. He could tell that you were a warrior, a very skilled one. And so, he stuck by your side ever since, never letting you shake him off until you've accepted his place at your side.

He's perhaps the best person to end up with due to your need for battle and blood. Your outbursts are handled with concerning ease every time, as he enjoys the thrill of it. He loves the way you don't hold back, never the one to acknowledge that you truly didn't have control over it to begin with.

Childe begs you to train with him and to teach him everything you know. He's very much obsessed and doesn't hide it either, to say the least. Daily hard-core workout sessions that last far into the night are definitely the norm for you both... but what he begins to eventually enjoy the most is how kindly and lovingly you treat him afterward. Your patience and gentle self were deeply appreciated by him.

He brags about you to everyone and everything that his ears, his family, friends, and colleagues become near sick of him by the end of it. But he is just so thankful to have you and wants to make sure you know this.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin childe #genshin childe x reader #childe #childe x reader #genshin capitano x reader #genshin capitano #capitano x reader #capitano #genshin baizhu #genshin baizhu x reader #baizhu #baizhu x reader

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hyukascampfire · 2 months ago

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𝔎𝑅𝐴𝑀𝑃𝑈𝑆ℵ𝐴𝐶𝐻𝑇 ⼎˒ c.yj & c.bg

݁ ˖ 𝔎r⍺mpus𝔫⍺cht

[ 𝔡.] krampus, creatures of european folklore, come one winter’s night every year with exactly one duty: to punish the naughty, who they are said to either eat or drag down to the hell from which they came. assigned to you this year are two of krampus' most revered helpers. they adore their purpose. come december 5th, they make their march through the snow and toward the sweetest treat that they might ever have the opportunity to crack. ˖ ݁

˒˓ ﹐ ⧼ 🐾 ⧽ ･ 6.6k

𝔭airings ˒ krampus!yeonjun & krampus!beomgyu 𝓍 reader

𝔤 ; smut

𝔴arnings ˒ smut, pwp, fingering, cunnilingus, threesome, punishment, objectifying language and degradation, choking on fingers, bondage, overstimulation, orgasm denial, oral (fem receiving), a healthy dose of fear, mean dom! beomgyu & teasing soft(er?) dom yeonjun, it’s really just generally nasty, hair pulling, dacryphilia, clit overstim…, demeaning usage of the words slut and whore, the boys don’t cum or even try to, masks for just the littlest of time, no mxm, really there's so much so tell me if i missed anything!

✎୭ ashlynn’s note request by anon & the sexy sexy @thetxtdevil , thank you for blessing me with this. this is by far the filthiest thing i've written. 6k of pure smut from start to finish. i'm so nervous oh my gosh, i feel like the characterization was new for me. regardless, enjoy my yeonjun much agenda!

﹙⋞ ﹚... back to the 𝓂asterlist

From a light and easy sleep, your eyes flicker open to a tap at your window. Shifting against your warmed blankets, you push up off the bed. With your knuckles, you rub sleep from your eyes.

Outside, there’s nothing but night sky. Moonlight beams in, all still. It washes your room in a slight, silvery haze. All is how it should be.

Except for the window. Your curtains dance and billow in a breeze that should not be there. You frown, blinking at it with heavy eyes and a sleep-addled mind.

You’re sure that’d been closed when you fell asleep. Sleeping with windows open during the summer? Sure. But in deep winter, where even the branches have frozen over and snap off under its weight? No; you hadn’t left the windows open. You hadn’t even opened them at all. Dragging heavy limbs up from where the mattress had formed to their shape, you slip from bed.

At the window, pulled open to one side, you poke your head outside. Nothing but snow blankets and soft flurries greets you. An ice-cold breeze howls and comes through the open window, bitterly cold against your toasty skin. You run your hands up and down the bare expanse of your skin, hoping for friction to keep the chill at bay.

You close the window with a firm hand. The lock twists under your fingers with a sure click. Tugging on the window, you make sure that it’s closed once more. And then twice more.

The bed, still warmed, greets you lovingly. It’s not long before the fog of sleep falls back over you. You tug your blanket closer, and give in to it.

Tap. Fog receding, you push up from the mattress and strain your ear.

Tap. Tap.

Blood running cold, you freeze. It sounds something like a stray tree branch, scraping claws for branches down the glass. Something in it sounds intentional, though.

The tapping continues for a few more long moments. You can hear your blood roaring through your veins. Maybe a bird’s perched on the ledge? Or perhaps the tree beside your window’s gone awry.

Behind you, there’s a scrape, or maybe a rustle. You whip your head around. In the center of your chest, your heart stops cold.

There, a shadowy figure in your doorway, stands a man. He’s tall, only a few inches from brushing up against the door frame, with a broad set of shoulders and long, long legs that seem to continue down from him infinitely. Silken fabric dangles down from his hand, and on his face—

A mask. Toothy and wood carved and shining in the moonlight with some glazes, it’s terrifying. Especially over the face of an intruder in your home.

Your chest is tight. He stands there—an imposing presence—in the doorway. Watching. Observing.

No matter how you will it, you can pull no words up from your throat. They’re all jammed in there tight—constricted by a clawed hand of terror. Your lips tremble around your open-mouthed drags for breath.

The man steps into your room. Every last drop of blood and rationality you’ve got in you screams. It tells you to run; to dart. Toward or away from him, either would be better than this.

You can’t. Right where you are, lifted from the bed and weight leaned back into your palms, you are utterly frozen. You swallow dry and blink fast, scared to succumb to the darkness of a blink for even a moment.

“Who are you?” Your voice comes out hoarse. It takes everything in you. Every trembling ounce of energy, every last reserve of bravery you have stashed away for moments like these. But you said it, and that’s better than shaking here as if it’ll do anything for you.

“Naughty fox,” he says, littered with taunt and bad intent. His voice muffles against the wood mask, but it comes out younger than you might have thought. “Don’t you recognize me? Or do I not look how you expected?”

Recognize him? No, of course you don’t. Certainly not with that mask on, but you don’t recognize that build or voice, either. You stare at him bug-eyed.

Beneath the veneered wood, he lets out a puffed laugh. “Hmm,” he says. He reaches up and pulls the mask from his face. “Perhaps you don’t. It doesn’t matter. What are you going to do when my friend gets here? Tremble like a leaf, like you are now? I think he will like your fear much more than I do.”

His voice is syrupy and sing-songy, and he’s got the face to match. Dullness hangs heavy and dark beneath his sharp eyes. His skin is sullen beneath the pale moonlight, but you think it might look that way even under the sun’s gaze. And, on his mouth, he wears a smile like cracks in a porcelain vase. It gets under your skin, walking a shiver up your spine.

Your stomach does flips and rolls. What does he mean, his friend? Finding your fear enjoyable? You open and close your mouth a few times. You are so, utterly screwed. From his head, brownish horns stand proud. You don’t even know how to begin to rationalize that. Quite frankly, the look he pins you with is equally terrifying and hard to swallow.

“Look at you. You can’t even move,” he hums, voice like knives. “I might believe the scared little lamb act, if I didn’t know exactly how you acted this year; if it wasn’t exactly why I am here.”

Fingers and toes gone numb, you look him over once more. Down to the hollow eyes and angles of his face, he is beautiful. Hauntingly beautiful; the kind of presence that might enchant you for all its unease, and stick with you for much longer than you suffered it. “Why are you here?” you say. You hate how your voice comes out: mousey. Pitiful. You sound every last bit the terrified thing he accuses you of being. “I don’t know who you are, or why you’re in my house.” Around the words, your jaw trembles. Just like the rest of you.

In the darkness of his eyes, something akin to wicked interest twinkles. Or, perhaps moonlight. His long legs eat up the distance between the door and your bed with only a few languid steps. The only sound in your room is the thuds of his heavy boots against the wood paneling.

Looking down at you with eyes that eat and eat, he scoffs. “Well, you don’t know me because good people don’t know me. But you weren’t good this year, were you? So, you will know me,” he says. “We all have to atone for our actions.”

Utterly still. He’s so still that he absolutely cannot be human. Not if he has to breathe or... anything. But he doesn’t. He just looks down at you with that bone-chilling taunt. Those horns look beyond real up close, too. And, that smile... that isn’t human, either.

“But, isn’t it so fun that you can answer for it like this?” he says. “In the same way you treated those poor men. You can take what you give, can’t you?”

You blink up at him. He breaks into your home, into your room, talking about something you’ve done? “I don’t...” you begin, the words both unsure and twisted with fright for his closeness. “I don’t know what you mean. Who are you?”

“Maybe you think putting up a ridiculous act like this might save you, but it will not.” He runs his tongue over the razor edge of a pointed incisor. “I think I’ll humor you. I am Yeonjun, and my friend is Beomgyu. We are Krampus’ creatures. We come to exact his will onto any stupid little human that’s forgotten themselves this year,” he says. “And you; you haven’t been so good this year, have you? Leaving men like victims, playing with their hearts like toys. From a sweet thing like you, I am quite amused. Really.”

All the way from the back of your jaw to your chin, he drags his knuckles. As he takes your chin, you allow the chill to seize your body. It’s no use fighting the shudder; you think you might even enjoy the thrill of it. It’s a strange thought. You try and snuff it out, but to rational thought’s dismay, it only fans the flames of the fire set in your core. Your cheeks radiate with that heat, painted a flushed pink that you don’t know how to swallow, either.

Though that awful, corrosive grin has dropped from off his mouth, a different smile tugs the corns of his lips. It’s loose, much less intense than the consuming of his eyes. “Look at you. I see it. I see that look in your eyes,” he hums. “How would you like to repent, sweet thing? Like this?”

Slowly, you nod. Looking into those deep, voracious eyes, you should feel scared. And you are. But, in this way—like this, you are not. Maybe it’s the hungry gnashing between your thighs, or maybe you’ve gone and lost your mind.

He tilts his head up in a quick gesture. “Lay back.”

The breath in your throat catches. Looking up at him all dumbfounded, you open your mouth to speak.

Raising his brows in a patronizing lift, he challenges you with dark eyes. “This is not a good foot to start your punishment off on, now, is it? Can’t listen... You’d better get listening, before Beomgyu arrives. He won’t be so kind,” he says, tilting his head to one side something like an animal watching a meal squirm just before they sink their teeth into it. “Lay down on the bed.”

You kick your legs out from the tangle of the bed and settle down onto your back. Tingling, you press your knees together until there is hardly a seam. In their place, your bones buzz with a self-destructive sort of excitement. Between your mind and body, there’s a lag. Where your body stays here, idling a thousand miles per minute, your mind has floated off somewhere out of touch. Clear thought has gone with it.

Whoever this friend he continues to mention is, you’re not sure you want to meet him. Maybe that’s exactly what Yeonjun wants: a strange fear like anticipation, placing obedience over you like a collar.

All breathy-like, you say, “When is he coming? Your friend?”

He runs his thumb over the inner side of your knee, narrowing his eyes down on you. “Are you excited to see him?” he asks. “You don’t get to think about that. Rotten whores don’t get to be excited about their punishments.” Unravelling that silken fabric from his hand, he circles the bed until he’s at your side.

The name puffs smoke into your mind like a beekeeper might do to a rowdy hive—it renders you affable. “I’m not a whore,” you say, conviction weak.

“Aren’t you?” he sneers through a curled lip. Taking your wrists, he raises them up to the headboard above you. The silk is soft enough against your skin as he secures you to it. Maybe a little tight.

Tight, and restrictive. You try and wiggle yourself free to no avail. Here, with your hands up and bound so that you couldn’t undo them no matter how you try, there’s a twinge in your stomach.

Yeonjun likes that. He reaches down and places his hand flat over your torso and says, “You get it now, don’t you?”

Licking your dry lips, you look up at him round-eyed. “I don’t know what I did,” you say. The sheets beneath you rustle against your shifting. “Why are you... punishing me? I’m not a bad person.”

“I don’t think it’s up to you to decide what kind of person you are,” he says, slow and accompanied by a false smile. “Do you want to know what kind of person I think you are?” Fingers dancing along the waist of your flimsy pajama bottoms, he flirts with the promise of undressing you. But he does not tug. Breaths fall shakily past your parted lips.

You shake your head. No, you do not. You know you won’t like whatever he has to say about you, if the look in his eyes and the fact that he’s even here has anything to say of it.

His fingers brush against the soft skin of your belly as he hooks them under the waistband. “That’s why we’ve come. Don’t worry; I’ll show you exactly what I think of you,” he tells you. Your bottoms loosen around your skin as he drags them down. “Lift your hips.”

Digging your feet into the mattress, you oblige him. The slipping of your bottoms down your thighs, and then past your feet, brings a wave of reality crashing down over you. Your breaths quicken.

You’d dampened your panties; a little wet patch over grey cotton announces your arousal to whoever might catch a glimpse. His eyes latch onto the sight.

He brings his gaze back up to you, black eyes amused. “Look at that,” he coos. “What a sweet slut you are. So dirty that she can’t help but soak her panties at the thought of being punished. That’s fucking pathetic.” The words slither out like venom, burning through your delicate skin.

The entirety of your body jumps at a slap in the shape of his hand against your outer thigh. A chesty yelp crashes out from your throat. The skin there raises in a welt and prickles like tiny, little fires as he runs a hand over it. You might think that it’s meant to soothe, if the smoothing touch didn’t exalt the dazzling bite. He doesn’t mean to soothe.

Blinking away twinkling tears, you say, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I did...”

Brushes of his fingers over that damp smear send electricity bolting up your lower back. “You’re not sorry yet. Sorry would look a lot different from this. I think there’s still a great deal of straightening up to do, and you’re going to take every last bit of it. And you’ll enjoy it, won’t you?” he says. “I mean, you’ve soaked your panties. You’re excited to be used, like you use men in your bed. Used like a whore. The heavens are looking, darling.”

You shift your wrists against their binds, hot under his words like red-hot knives along your skin. Anticipation shoots up your spin as he tugs your panties down now, too. “I’m not a whore,” you shudder out.

The slickness of the sounds from between your thighs as he parts you with two fingers has your ears burning. His middle finger prods at your hole, and it flutters against it. Collecting some of your slick arousal right from its source, he dips his finger just in and brings it up to display the sticky mess over his fingers. It glistens in the night’s lowlight, catching light in a lewd, humiliating display. He furrows his brows. “Are you sure?”

You’re not sure how to answer that. Even you know that you’re beyond wet. So, you just watch open-mouthed as he slips his to middle fingers into you. You rustle against the bed with the intrusion, and then again as he begins pumping them in and out of you, pressing against your walls during some and spreading your walls during others. Capturing your lip, you sigh.

The slight sparks in your belly, and the slick sounds of his fingers working you open—it’s maybe absurd, but nothing you can’t handle. Why he thinks that fingering you might be a punishment, you’re not sure. You just bask in the ebbing rays of twitching muscles, letting soft sounds fall out when he brushes up against a delicate spot.

His eyes drink you in, working his giving arm diligently. Looking down at you from his nose, he says, “You like that? Of course you do. You’re a filthy slut that’ll take anything she can get. You’re making a mess of my fingers. You’ll clean that up, won’t you?”

Face burning, you let your eyes flutter shut. Your lashes dust against your shame-reddened cheeks. You know you’re not who he’s painting you to be—you don’t go around like that. It’s not fair. Especially not when this is what he does; coming to exact some sort of flimsy justice in the price of flesh. “D—you do this to everybody you punish?” you say through gritted teeth. “Have sex with them? I don’t think you can... judge me.”

It’s as if he can feel the sputtering in your belly himself. His fingers, glistening in a thick smearing of you, turn from tantalizing pumps to punctual curls. Your moth falls open into a silent gasp, brows knitted and furrowed. You can hear yourself. So can he—if the twitching of his narrowed eyes says anything. He plays with one of his pointed teeth, something almost vampiric, again. “Not everybody,” he coos. “Just pretty toys like you. Pretty things we can use, and then throw away when they break, without feeling too bad.”

The silk digs into your wrists, holding you without remorse. You try and rebel against it, hands itching furiously with the need to dig your fingers into his arm, or curl into the sheets, or just grab. Push. You don’t know—all you know is that he beckons a razor-sharp orgasm toward you, and all the hair on your body prickles at its rushing presence. Hoarse groans, filtered through your tense throat and tight jaw, mingle with the wetness of his fingers in your cunt. “W—hah—I don’t—”

“Stupid,” he mocks. God, his fingers. He knows just where to play; how to turn you even more the fool he claims you are. “You can’t even fucking talk. Your brain’s gone all dumb, huh? On what, just my fingers? I wonder how you’ll handle me. The both of us.” he says. His voice is utterly even despite his fingering. “Open your eyes. Look at me.”

Eyes and nose and throat burning, it’s like lifting the weight of the sky to open them. But you do. The image of him is bleary, smudged by the nearness of release like heat waves. Like a mirage. And, if you weren’t able to confirm him by the fluttering of your hole around his fingers, or the thickness of them inside you, you might be able to convince yourself that he was just that: a mirage. But, he is real.

And you’re made to feel how real he is as he tugs his fingers from you, ripping everything away in an excruciating blink of an eye. Just like that, he’d stolen your orgasm. A long, complaining sound comes from your chest. Your blood jumps to the surface, whip-lashed. Between your thighs, all that excitement and pure electricity, it all pulls back like ocean tide.

You know why he’d done it, and you know why he wanted you to watch as he did.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says. “You don’t get to cum. Not until we break down that mind of yours, and built it back up. Into something better. Worse.”

Heavy boots thud against the floor in front of your window. Whipping your head toward the sound, you find a second man, or... whatever they are, broken in to your room. Your heart thuds in your chest, maybe with the sharp claws of fear around it, or maybe with the loss of ecstasy. You tug against the restraints again as he stands there. A mask, no different from Yeonjun’s, obscures his face. This time, you know that the horns curving from his head are real. He’s not so tall as Yeonjun, but he’s broader. And, something about the way he’s stood there, taking you in... it’s also different. It brushes up against something deep and primal inside you, preserved inside you as instinct to protect against moments like this.

And, it tells you that tied up is a terrible thing to be, when a creature is looking at you like that. You press your thighs together.

“Oh, look who’s come,” Yeonjun purrs.

The air is tense for a moment. The new figure, Beomgyu, reaches up for his mask. It clatters against the ground.

Seeing his face revealed is the same as it was with Yeonjun. Your eyes dart over each feature. Beautiful and put together in such a perfect way, but tainted by a guttural eeriness. His eyes are heavy and mousey brown, just like his mess of hair.

And, if Yeonjun’s snark and smiles had been offsetting, then Beomgyu’s serenity is beyond that. Hair-rising. Rotten.

Yeonjun, beside you now, runs his fingers through the hair on the top of your hair. He curls them into it and tugs as he says, “Aren’t you excited now, dove?”

Whimpering at the sting, you breathe out, “Yes.”

Rough fingers joining Yeonjun on your body, Beomgyu brushes his fingers over your outer calf almost captivated. Almost. His touch is different from Yeonjun’s, and that’s all it takes to show you why Yeonjun had spoken of him how he had. He is different.

The both of them roam their hands over you, here and there—featherlight touches everywhere.

The bed dips and accepts Beomgyu’s weight as he climbs up onto his knees. Hard fingers biting into the plush of your thighs, he takes them into his hands and pries you open. Those deep, odd eyes inspect your cunt. His tongue darts out to wet his snow-chapped lips. “Such a pretty pussy,” he says. The tenor of his voice is both the type of cold that could freeze right through you, and the type of blistering hot that will eat you down to ash. “Keep them open for me.”

“She does have a pretty pussy,” Yeonjun hums from beside you. His gaze lights up your face.

It’s hard to breath around the thick knot in the center of your chest. Though your thighs go to snap closed as he splays his hand over your lower belly, lightning twisting your insides, you don’t allow them to. You’re not quite sure you want to see what disobeying this pair would mean.

God, you’re wet. It dribbles down into the sheets beneath you. You know he sees it, too. His eyes are hungry at it.

Beomgyu tugs you further down the bed toward him; as far as your restraints will let him before going taut. They tighten around your skin. “Are you scared?” he says. It’s clinical, in a strange sort of sinister way. “You’re shaking.”

You go to answer him, but can’t speak around the thumb Yeonjun dips into your mouth. He speaks instead. “She’s excited. So excited; you should’ve seen her earlier. Crying over my fingers, just ‘cause she couldn’t cum.” Spikes of his raven hair hang over his eyes as he looks down at you. His eyes narrow.

The two share a look. It’s enough to get you nervous. Breaking into a scoff, Beomgyu works on his bottoms.

“You’re gonna be good and take it, right, baby?” Yeonjun says, talking at you more than to you. “It’s only what you deserve.”

Taking one of your thighs up and lifting it over a broad shoulder, Beomgyu cuts in, “Keep her straight for me, won’t you?” He runs his length up and down your slit, collecting your arousal. Each bump at your clit has you sighing and jumping.

“You already get her first.” Yeonjun glares daggers.

Beomgyu’s answering grin tells plenty of what the two think of each other. You’re not really certain they’re true friends. Maybe that’s just the nature of whatever they are, though.

Letting his cockhead tap against your throbbing clit a few times, he feeds off your struggling sounds. Pleased, he pushes into you without ceremony. Your walls are eager to accept every solid inch of him. More than length, though, it’s the thickness of his cock that you have to stretch around. You puff out a whiny sigh and tug on your bottom lip with your teeth.

Once he’s into you down to the hilt, he pushes off his heels and climbs over you. Coming face-to-face with him, shaggy locks brushing over his eyes, you realize how pretty he is. Is that a ridiculous thing to consider in this circumstance? With him balls-deep in you? Maybe.

“It’s a shame Yeonjun likes them tied up,” he muses, bracing one hand in the bed at your side and the other pressing your one thigh now to your front. “I’d like to feel your nails on me as you try and handle your punishment.”

You swallow hard. He’s still nestled and dormant inside of you. The thought alone has your muscles fluttering around him.

A knowing light passes over his eyes. He pulls his length from you, all the way to where his thick tip pops free from you, and then he fucks himself back into you. “You’re so fucking shameless,” he spits.

Yeonjun’s fingers through your hair is the only thing you can register as Beomgyu sets a thundering pace. You squirm and arch your back from the mattress to try and catch up, to breathe. None of it makes the slide of his cock or the nudging of him against your sweet spot any less wholly overwhelming. Whining and mewling through gritted teeth, you say, “Oh—fuck, yes! Beomgyu, right there, feels so good right there...” The words twist and slur, your voice breaking under his thrusts.

“It does? Should I keep fucking you like this?” he says. His hips slow, and he says, “Or should I slow down? Just because I can?”

Your chest burns. The need to cling to him has the bindings tightening around your wrists impossibly more. All your tugging does is make things worse for yourself. Speaking, the words come out in a fumbling plead. “No—Please, please don’t stop. I wanna cum. Do anything, but please, don’t stop.”

Piping up from beside you, Yeonjun sneers, “Ask him correctly. No whining.”

Fighting the desire to wiggle your hips enticingly just for an inch of friction against his cock still nestled inside your cunt, you say, “Please, fuck me.” It’s hard not to mumble the words for shame, but you know that’s not what they want. They want you ashamed; to peel down the layers of societal decorum and turn you into some animal.

“That’s more like it,” Beomgyu says. He rewards you with those same mouth-watering, tear-inducing strokes once more. “You don’t get to keep your modesty. We know what you’ve done; you can’t pretend to us.”

So fast, right in your center, that knot begins tightening once more. You writhe and whimper. Where his cock digs into you, the muscles turn each time.

Yeonjun watches every last bit of your struggling. His eyes dance over your screwed up face, and he listens with intent to your crackling cries. Stroking his fingers over your neck and face and through your hair, you’re not sure if he means to soothe or wind you up. “You’re doing fine,” he coos. “Still breathing?”

You’re hot and clammy all over. “Mhm!” you mewl. Beomgyu reaches down and pinches hard on your clit. It draws a broken cry out from you, arching off the bed so that your front melds into his. The headboard groans and crackles against your violent tugging. You curl and splay your fingers frantically to try and itch the overflowing urge to grab or claw.

Beomgyu’s wild eyes get a wry look, and his hips take a new angle. It’s like blinding white on your brain. The drags of his cock, fucking you into the bed, Yeonjun’s dusted touches and Beomgyu’s touches like claws, the delirious spasming of your inner muscles, and the weight of their combined looking, it’s all compiled and too much. You cum blisteringly with a cry. And, with your hands tied up, you’ve got no choice but to suffer its wrath.

It’s a suffering that makes you feel infinitely more alive.

Floating down, your chest heaves for scarce breath. Ecstasy drips through your veins slow like honey. Past it, you can hear nothing more than a shuffling. That doesn’t matter right now, though. The sweetness of it clogs your senses and has you content. All you can really taste is the sugary goodness of pleasure pulsing through you.

In the midst of the blur, you think you hear a sly, foxy voice right in your ear. He whispers something along the lines of, “Now that the brute’s done.”

The weight of Beomgyu hovering over your chest and a puff of cool air over your sloppy cunt are enough to drag your mind toward clarity. Enough to realize that they are by no means done with you yet.

Clearing thick syrup from your thoughts, you say, “What are you doing?”

You can’t see past him, but you know Yeonjun’s settled between your legs. He holds your thighs wide open like a silver platter. And your cunt, the delicacy. He doesn’t even bother pinning you—Beomgyu does the job for him. Without fanfare, plump lips press an open-mouthed kiss right over your begging clit. The little wet pressure is electrically charged, sending bolts of jagged lightning spiraling up your spine. Your hips jump against it. It’s no use, though. Between the two of them, you’ve got nowhere to go. You are right where they want you. A breath of a laugh falls onto your cunt.

Beomgyu lifts himself enough to drag your shirt up your torso and bunch it over the swell of your chest. “Don’t ask questions,” he says, pinching your rosy nipple. You choke a gasp. At the attention, both of them tighten into stiff little peaks, prickling hard. “Just fucking take it. You’ll take what you get.” He spits the words out like venom that’s burning his tongue.

Yeonjun peppers little kisses over the entirety of your cunt, lingering over your hole and right over your clit. You gasp and quake as it reawakens the aftershocks of your all-too-recent orgasm. Beomgyu, not one for dainty touch, palms your tits like dough. He leaves red in the wake of his touch, pinching here and there. Their touches blend; Yeonjun’s intentionally placed brushes, and Beomgyu’s unapologetic play. The tang of blood is heavy on your tongue—you’d bitten your lip raw trying to filter your sounds.

When Yeonjun flattens his tongue and flicks it up the underside of your clit, though, none of your efforts stifle the guttural cry that it beckons from you. Each of his touches after that, the suckling of it in his puckered lips, the grazing of teeth, and the occasional dips to collect your arousal like sticky sweetener straight from the source, have your body wracked with tingles and flesh-deep shudders. He’s tying that knot right back up in your gut as though somebody might tie the stem of a cherry with their tongue. Each pitiful, pitchy sound you make, he answers with a sound muffled into your pussy.

Hair dangling down in his eyes and obscuring the rotten look in his eyes, Beomgyu runs a splayed hand up the plane of your chest. The smoothing over skin is a much more innocuous sound in the air than the sloppy sounds of Yeonjun drinking you up. When he reaches the fragile column of your throat, your heart skips a few beats, laying down like a frightened animal in your chest. It comes back to life when he doesn’t stop there. He reaches your mouth and drags your bottom lip down with the rough pad of his thumb, tilting his head back to get a good look at you.

“Open your mouth.” Beomgyu reaches up for the headboard, where your wrists are secured. He fumbles with it for a moment before the silk flutters down. The release from the strain—from the cutting of the fabric into your skin—is enough to send a chill down you. Your nipples tighten impossibly further with it. Soothing over the indented skin, you bask in the freedom to move. If only you could reach past Beomgyu to dig your fingers through Yeonjun’s hair.

Hips twitching both into and away from Yeonjun’s suckling mouth, it takes you a moment to get to it. He splays you open further, licks up the sensitive underbelly of your nub harder. Competing to hold your attention.

Open your mouth? Whatever his intention is, you both itch for it and dread it. You let him slip his two middle fingers past your lips and over your tongue. The sensation of him pressing down on it is foreign. You furrow your brows up at him with your mouth split over his digits, saliva pooling at the floor of your mouth. Your limbs and stomach tighten, frame going rigid. If he were to just slide them a little further, you know you’ll be fighting for breath.

And, of course he does. Eyes narrowing and twitching with wicked delight, he pushes them right for your gag reflex. “Let’s see deep you can take it,” he coos.

Your belly jumps. He’d found your limit. For a moment, he holds it there, even as you squirm. Even as you dig your crescents into his wrist. When he finally pulls them free from your throat, you sputter and swim for breath. Your nose burns, and tears cling like dew in your lashes as you look up at him with round eyes. He scoffs a laugh, his fingers a glistening mess of your mouth.

Holy shit.

“Since Yeonjun’s got a soft heart,” he says, pressing his fingers back over the path he’d made the first time. He pushes and pulls them in and out of your mouth the same as he might your cunt, making sure to push down on your tongue with each drag out. “He’s going to let you cum. So, I’ll have to keep you quiet somehow. Don’t want the neighborhood to know what a filthy, rotten girl you are, do you?” Capricious him—a moment ago, he’d wanted you screaming. He just wanted to see you gag on his fingers.

You claw for your life, dizzied just enough to feel like it’s heaven’s gates you see behind your closed eyes, rather than the fiery iron gates you fear you’ll be seeing instead. Especially after this; especially as you feel them eroding down your virtue with their poisonous touch.

Like his words had summoned it, the bumps of Yeonjun’s strong and tall nose against your waiting clit as he laps at your hole pushes you right over the ledge. You’d been dangling there for so long, the fall is almost rapturous. And, when you hit the ground, stars dapple your vision like you’ve really been hit. You go tight like a calm before a crashing, thunderous storm. Releasing, you explode in lightning and shaking limbs. Through it, you dig your heels into the mattress and buck into Yeonjun’s mouth, you rake lines down Beomgyu’s skin and wail around his fingers. You seethe like a storm.

Rumbled breath goes right into your throbbing, aching core. Yeonjun doesn’t stop on your cunt. If anything, the fluttering of your hole and the twitching of your clit eggs him on. He feasts and feasts like your pussy is the first meal he’s had since arriving here through the snow-fallen woods. Your insides protest the overstimulation, wringing you out almost painfully. Tears fall molten down your temples, wetting the hair that frames your face. Beomgyu, and his weight above you, might act as a grounding presence, if not for the way he watches in cruel delight as you choke and drool over him.

Beomgyu sneers down at you, “Look at you: slobbering all over my hand. You don’t disappoint, do you? Is this where you thought you’d end up when you screwed others over?”

It’s not like you can answer him. You just squeeze your eyes shut to brave the roiling in your stomach as they work in tandem to force you right from one orgasm into another without respite. You’re wound up so tight—so, so tight. Sobbing and thrashing; you’re not sure you can handle another. Where the first had been smooth like syrup, and the next even sweeter, this third one feels destructive. This one feels like destruction.

Freeing his fingers, he wipes them down your cheek. You choke and sputter, lungs burning. He must’ve seen something in your eyes.

“Too—to much! I can’t... take it,” you mewl. It’s hoarse, but you don’t care. Right now, all that exists is Yeonjun’s hot tongue and the terrifying climax he intends to bring you with it. He indulges in a cocky grin against your pussy for just a moment before brushing his teeth over your clit.

Speaking for the first time since he’d gotten his mouth on you, Yeonjun’s voice is husky. “Hmm? Even if I...” He flicks his tongue up your clit. Your voice catches in your throat, along with your breath. He’d been torturing the poor bud all night—it throbs hard and twitches at just the slightest attention. “Do that?”

“Yeonjun,” you cry, warbled around a knot in your throat. It’s half plead for mercy, half plead for more. He continues, keeping his touch cruelly light. Not enough to give you that mercy, but enough to keep you needing it. “Go—d, please!” You don’t know if you’re asking for him to let up, or for more. Either would be better than this. Your eyes burn with unshed tears.

“Ask for something if you want it,” Beomgyu spits. “If you wanna fucking cum, ask properly. How many times do you have to be told this?”

You have no shame. Not like this. Shame was something you let them crush up to dust the moment they put their hands on you. Poor voice shot and whiny, you rush out, “Yeonjun, please. I want to cum so bad, I’ll do anything. Just please—ah!—let me.”

“That’s it,” he says. The corners of his lips twitch. “That’s all I want to hear from your mouth. Words befitting of a slut. But you’ll take what we give you, and that’s that. You don’t get to pick—you just take it.”

You don’t even hear any of it. Yeonjun pinches your clit one final time. It’s such a slight touch; it’s absurd how your body crumbles at it. Thighs snapping shut around Yeonjun’s ears, you shake violently. It’s nothing to deter him—he works you through it anyway. You don’t even have anything more than slurred, nonsensical whines.

When Beomgyu pushes off your chest, you blink slowly at the sight of Yeonjun there. His mouth comes off you an utter, obscene mess. Your essence glistens in the moonlight, smeared down his chin and his cheeks and over his swollen lips. He looks absolutely drunk.

Finally, you for the first time since they’d come, you slump. Your bones and muscles creak. Dragging in quick, panted breaths, the only thing you worry about is feeding your starved brain oxygen and letting the liquid sun still hung heavy in your veins dissipate.

Beomgyu doesn’t even leave you with any parting words. Tugging his clothes on, he’s slipping out the window, just as he’d arrived here. He’d gotten his fill.

They’d drained everything from you. You can’t even press yourself from the bed to catch your breath. Yeonjun swipes his tongue over his mouth and cleans the rest of his face off with the back of his hand.

Bent over and his mouth so near your ear that you feel each word, he tells you, “Next year, I think I’d like to have you all to myself. Do you think you can do that for me? Allow me that?”

The fanned words over your cheek—it makes you think that those words he’d whispered in your earlier were not just a figment of your post-orgasmic imagination.

Shuddering, you hope as he follows Beomgyu out the window that he saw in your eyes that you have no intentions of playing saint this next year.

Not now, anyway.

﹙⋞ ﹚... back to the 𝓂asterlist

✎୭ ashlynn’s note so now that we’re all furiously turned on,, how was it? omg i’m nervous for real.

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