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4k-starbound-k4 · 1 month ago

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Yandere Headcannons

Ft: Childe, Cyno, Kinich, Sethos, Wriothesley

Trigger warnings: Fem!reader, Stalking, Noncon, Breeding, Blood, Somnophilia, Abuse of power, Bondage, Corruption, Degradation, Male Manipulation, Slave kink, Oral fixation (m!receiving), Prey kink

Childe

FREAK! FREAK FREAK!

He stalks you for hours on end, days even.

Leaving the store in your cute adventurers’ outfit it drives him crazy. Those ribbons around her thighs make his mind spin.

When a sneznayian merchant comes to make a trade deal he’s pissed when the man calls you beautiful and implying you’d make a good wife! He knows you will but you’ll be HIS WIFE!

He thinks of how clueless you are when people start going missing and how members of the fatui don’t bother you anymore.

He especially thinks when you leave your bedroom window open. Far too many nights has he climbed inside and curled up to you.

You only bury your face in your pillow when he buries himself deep inside of you. He’s careful to go slow and stretch you just enough for him to do this every night. His fingers abusing your clit as you writhe in a deep sleep.

Tsarita forbid you moan another man’s name while he takes you. He’d have to spend the next night getting rid of them — and that pissed him off.

So when you have an eventful meeting with the head of Northland Bank, and you're forced to walk home with damp panties from the man’s constant teasing...

He’s quite quick to follow you home after expelling anger on an innocent mililithe guard. He didn’t care that blood stained his clothes or his hands. He wasn’t going to let that bitch banker take you from him. You’re his prize, and he had spent to many nights cumming in his hand to spare you from getting pregnant.

Not tonight.

He knocked. How polite. So, when you open the door to a deranged Childe covered in blood, your first thought is: he must be hurt!

“Childe? A-are you okay? Do you need me to help you?”

His eyes train on yours before walking in, forcing you back into the apartment before he wrapped a hand around your neck with a voice almost deadly, “You stupid slut, I’ve been so good not cumming in you! I haven’t hurt you either. Yet you let that bastard touch you!”

“Huh— I—ack I don’t—“

He walks you to your bedroom before shoving you against the wall, pushing up your night gown, “You’re mine, I’m going to make sure of that. I’ll make sure my sweet girl doesn’t get used by bad men.” He purrs in your ear before biting your shoulder.

Cyno

As the General Mahamatra you’d expect him to never do anything so terrible, especially not to the woman he loves.

Well, um, fuck the police!!

You were simply a student at the Akademyia, working hard on your studies. You never did anything wrong. So when The General enters your house one night, under the pretense of hearing you were studying forbidden knowledge, he took count of how you only slept in a tiny pair shorts and a sheer baby doll dress.

Your teary eyes and breasts made his head fog. He knew you were innocent the minute you threw yourself at his feet, begging for him to realize it was a misunderstanding.

“Please sir, you have to understand! I’m just studying King Destraht and the disappearance of dreams. I promise I didn’t do anything wrong! Please believe me.”

“If that’s the case you should become a dream keeper and stop wasting our time with nonsense.” He gripped your hair, making you look in his eyes as he shamelessly soaked up the sight of your breasts and tears. A sick smirk on his face as he lets you go roughly.

That’s when he started watching you. How you ran around Sumeru city, books to your chest. He wondered how much he could get away with.

It started simple. Like how you would you help him with task. Then he started questioning: would you follow him? Would you change your outfit if he said it wasn’t his standard? He found your innocence a major turn on.

He often called you naive and sweet, always ending it with, “If somebody hurts you tell me and I’ll handle it.”

So you’re walking back to the desert late at night. He stalked you into the ruins of the temple.

He quickly blows out the torch leaving you in the dark, and he takes no time before pinning you to the ground. Your eyes can’t see anything, especially not as well as his.

He pushes up your skirt and pulls off your panties as he kisses your neck. You crying and trying to fight was so cute, before he started to finger you slowly. Your first time being taken in a dirty temple by a man you couldn’t see! Oh, it stung his heart to see you so scared.

But he didn’t stop, making sure to take his time with you. He wanted you so confused as to why your pussy was craving this. He was suddenly training you for his size as he gets rougher. He feels you cum several times before his stamina depletes. He himself cumming inside you three times, pumping it in and out, until your pussy was dripping, a frothy mess from his cum and yours.

He left you there, but waited from afar as you went home crying, cum dripping down your leg as he had stolen your panties.

He waited for you to tell him, and his prayer came a month later when you came to him crying on a rainy night.

“Can I- can I stay with you please? Someone — a month ago — someone they- they forced themselves on me. I was so scared.” You cry.

“Sure thing, come tell me what happened. In detail so I can help you.” He picks you up and makes you straddle him on his couch.

As you tell him the story, he begins getting hard. Grinding you suddenly on his cock, burying his nose in your neck.

“C-Cyno? What are you doing?” You whimper as he kisses your neck.

“Shhh let me make it better.”

“Wait, Cyno.” You shake your head as he pins you to the couch.

It isn’t until he’s inside, and you're crying, does it click that it was him. You sob, but the way your cunt squeezes him, he knows you're bound to forgive him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

You'll forgive him because you're just so nice.

Kinich

Kinich is such a good boyfriend.

There’s truly nothing to complain about. He kisses you as much as he can and he loves you unconditionally. His family was terrible and he swore to never be like his father. So, each night he cradles you and tells you how much he loves you.

It was a normal day as you help around the Scions of the Canopy. Before heading home to make sure Kinich has something nice for dinner after the night's war.

When the door opens, his arms quickly find your waist. He reaches under your shirt and grips your breast as he kisses your neck leaving harsh bruises trailing down your throat.

“K-Kinich… are you okay?” Your voice shakes and shivers at his rough touch.

“Hehehe, You’re such a slut. Look at you shivering just from my touch.” A familiar voice made you glance back.

It’s Kinich's body however his hair was yellow and green; his eyes were more like emeralds than topaz. He has horns and a tail.

Ajaw

“I’m so tired of him fucking you like a princess. You’re nothing but a fatui slut. So you’ll be my pretty slave. Right? Wouldn’t want to lose Kinich’s soul forever, would we?” He taunts pushing your legs apart.

“Wait-I.” you whimper as he grinds on your ass.

“Are you denying me?! The great K'uhul Ajaw,” He pulls you away from the table, and throws you to the floor, before pulling you up to your knees pulling out his cock, pushing the sweaty member to your face.

“Go on suck, slut. If you do well at pleasing me, I won’t hurt you.” He laughs pushing his tip past your lips and forcing you to deep throat him.

Deep, spastic thrusts, nothing like your loving boyfriend who let you go at your own pace and was ever so kind. He fucked your throat like it was the last high he’d ever achieve.

When he cums he’s thoughtful enough to force you to swallow half. Pulling out and jerking the last few ribbons all over your face and tongue.

He drops down and kisses you, claws shredding your clothes from your skin as he forces you on your back. Threatening to make you fall in love with his cock so that you’ll beg for his cock instead of Kinich.

He puts your legs over his arms and fucks into you, immediately bottoming out, coaxing embarrassing squishing sounds, making you tear up as he laughs.

“Fatui slut, look at you so wet for the great Ajaw! Stop pretending you’re a good girl, you like being pinned down and fucked like my prey.” He laughs and mocks.

“No-no I’m a good girl. Please, I’m a good girl, Kinich please.” You moan, fucked a little too stupid.

“Stupid slut! My stupid human slut. I’m going to breed you stupid, we have all night til the resurrection, I’m going to break you.” He growls.

Sethos

Lucky girl. That’s what you are a lucky girl.

He watches as you walk around Sumeru. His eyes trained on you like a moth to a flame. He’s so quick to get in your way and help you.

“Hi! I was wondering do you need help?" he asks.

You appear to be from the city a bit turned around in the desert.

“I’m sorry, I’m trying to get to the jungle. I’ve been traveling from Natlan and I can’t seem to find the best way to the city?” You sigh.

“Well let me be your guide.” He offers his hand and starts the walk to the City.

He didn’t leave your side. Not when you had to find your mother. Not even when you were heartbroken to find out your mother was no longer in Sumeru. He even started leading you back to Natlan all for no charge.

He sat beside you on the cool morning in the desert sand. The both of you staring at Natlan in the distance.

“Hey? I mean I know you didn’t find your family but if you want you can um… stay with me?” He offers.

“Haha, don’t worry I have people waiting for me back in Natlan.” You smile sweetly at him.

“Oh yeah? Friends?” He scoots closer to you.

“Yeah, and a boyfriend. He was supposed to come with me, but he was busy with work.” You explain as his smile falls.

Cut to an hour later, him pushing your face into the wall of some ruins as he snapps his hips, making you cum and shiver. Your pretty eyes filling with tears as he grits his teeth, pulling out only to pick you up.

His hand firm on your throat as he pulls you back down on his fat cock, “You’re so lucky I saved you. Mmm baby don’t cry, you’re. So. Fucking. Uh-Lucky! I’m going to fucking keep you. Don’t worry I’ll give you a nice big family.”

Wriothesley

OH THE DUKE

When he caught you walking around with the hearth children, his heart almost exploded, gazing attentively as he watched you care for the kids.

He figured he could handle seeing you occasionally, but when he learned from Lyney that you left for Sneznaya often, it pissed him off.

He thought of ways to keep you but each time, he missed mark. He tried talking but it was taking long. He was an awkward guy after all, what would girl like youvwant with him?

Thats when there was an opening. Unwanted Fatui actives opened way to a court case. And you were brought to the fortress for questioning. The sight of you in hand cuffs makes his stomach sink and flip.

He can't help but watch you squirm and glare at him. He kows you would hate him if he tried anything, but you keep making it so hard.

“I’ll let you out, but only if you agree to my terms.” He orders, narrowing his eyes at you.

“What do you want! I told you I haven’t seen anything.”

“Due to your individual crimes, as well as your part in Fatui matters, you’ll stay here under my watch. When you prove to be a model citizen, I’ll let you free.”

“You want to monitor me?!”

He nodds and watches as you shake your head in a silent agreement, expecting to be out in days.

Now, almost a year later he's splitting you on his cock for the 4th time today. His cute little office slut, forced to drip his cum whenever he decides.

He revels in your muffled moans from the muzzle he keeps you confined to. Your hands bound in hand cuffs whilst fucks into you sporadically.

When he’s done he pulls out and takes off the muzzle, “Do you want to go back on the surface?”

You merely shake your head, leading him to bury himself within your cunt again. He allows you to sit on his lap as he does paperwork.

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p0orbaby · 26 days ago

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May i request a short fluffy blurb of Alexia and readers first Christmas with their new born daughter and the barca team and the team really outdoes by bringing gifts and Alexia and the reader having no space in their alarm with all the gifts. Godmothers mapi and ingrid being the main culprit

The living room is a mess, and it’s entirely the Barcelona women’s team’s fault. Wrapping paper litters the floor, piling up around the coffee table like snowdrifts. Your newborn daughter is asleep in her crib in the corner, blissfully unaware of the madness her first Christmas has caused. You, however, are very aware. And so is Alexia, who is leaning against the wall with a look of both awe and dread as yet another ridiculously oversized box is dragged into the room.

“This is too much,” Alexia mutters under her breath, though there’s no heat in her voice.

“It was too much an hour ago,” you reply, balancing a pile of discarded ribbons in one hand and an empty cup of coffee in the other. “Now it’s just… obscene”

Mapi strides in with a smug grin, Ingrid trailing behind her with a stuffed giraffe nearly as tall as you. “This one’s from us!” Mapi announces, gesturing to the giraffe like it’s the Sistine Chapel.

“Of course it is,” Alexia says dryly, eyeing the giraffe. “Because every baby needs a life-sized safari animal”

“Exactly,” Mapi replies, unbothered. “She’s going to love it”

“She can’t even hold her own head up yet,” you point out, though you’re smiling. “What’s she supposed to do with a giraffe?”

“She’ll grow into it,” Ingrid says, as if that makes complete sense.

By now, the room is more present than furniture. There are building blocks, stuffed animals, miniature football kits with Putellas printed on the back, a rocking horse, and something that looks suspiciously like a baby drum set.

“I’m scared to look in the kitchen,” Alexia says, almost to herself.

You glance at her, smirking. “You should be. I saw Patri sneaking in with a box that had ‘For the Future Chef’ on it”

Alexia groans, tipping her head back dramatically. “Why does everyone think she needs to be a prodigy at one week old?”

“To be fair,” you say, “she is your daughter”

Alexia gives you a side-eye but doesn’t argue.

The team, meanwhile, has completely taken over the house. Keira and Lucy are assembling what looks like a plastic playhouse in the corner. Aitana is explaining the benefits of wooden toys to Sandra, who seems far more interested in the cookies on the table. And Mapi, of course, is busy unboxing the giraffe like it’s Christmas morning for her.

“Where are we even going to put all this?” Alexia whispers, watching as Marta adds another wrapped gift to the growing pile.

“We could build an extension,” you joke, though you’re only half kidding.

By the time the team leaves, hours later, the house looks like Santa’s workshop exploded. Your daughter is still blissfully unaware, sleeping peacefully despite the chaos. Alexia sinks onto the couch beside you, surveying the damage.

“You realise this is going to happen every year now,” she says, nudging your shoulder.

You glance at the towering giraffe, the playhouse that’s still half-built, and the mountain of gifts stacked against the wall. “We’ll need a bigger house”

Alexia chuckles, leaning her head against your shoulder. “Or a storage unit”

“Or fewer godparents,” you mutter, eyeing the guilty parties in the kitchen, where Mapi and Ingrid are raiding the fridge.

But despite the madness, there’s a warmth in the room that you wouldn’t trade for anything. Alexia reaches for your hand, her fingers brushing yours gently.

“Merry Christmas,” she says softly, glancing at the baby.

You smile, squeezing her hand. “Merry Christmas”

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #woso #woso x reader

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gi4hao · 9 months ago

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some vernon x acts of service fluff for you ♡

vernon dyed his hair black this morning. he kind of loves it, and he hopes you will too. obviously the execution isn’t perfect; there are some dark stains on his ears and his forehead and he ruined two t-shirts in the process. but he knows how much you love that color on him.

this afternoon, vernon did some shopping. he needed a new shirt and he remembered the pretty bracelet that had caught your eye last time you were in town. he hopes you’ll be happy when he gifts it to you.

and this evening, vernon cooked dinner. it’s not done yet, but it will be in about thirty minutes. mingyu sent him an easy yet sophisticated recipe which he followed to the letter, and it turned out pretty well, at least on the outside. he hopes you’ll like it.

it’s past 7pm when he hears your key turn in the front door’s lock. the oven is a bit greasy, there’s oregano spilled on the counter, the wrapping of your gift is a little messy, and his ears are red from his attempts to remove the dye from his skin. perhaps from stress too.

and suddenly it hits him. he feels stupid. what if he’s doing too much? it is too much, isn’t it?

“hi handsome” your voice pulls him out of his panic as he exits the kitchen, his hands a little moist. you’re ready to lean in for a kiss, it’s almost muscle memory at this point, but the sight of his hair makes you pause.

“love it. and love the new shirt”, you reply, letting your hand brush against the strands of hair on his forehead before finally going in for the kiss. “what’s that smell? did you cook something?”

his ears turn a new shade of red as he grabs your arm to lead you to his living room. “i did, but you don’t wanna go in there right now”, he warns you, grabbing your arm to lead you to the living room instead.

it’s rather unusual for vernon to look so agitated, especially around you. you look at your surroundings, trying to notice anything different.

“is everything okay?”

he nods, a bit faster than usual, before digging his hand in his pocket and pulling out a small gift with a wonky ribbon on top.

“got you a little something today. but you can return it if you don’t like it, or even if you change your mind in a few days. or weeks. or even months, really.”

you’re only now noticing the dye stains on his skin, which draws a chuckle out of you. he looks so frantic it’s almost comical. without a word, you put the gift aside and stand up, pretty sure to know what this is all about.

“i already know i love that gift. i’ll love it forever and i would not trade it for any other. ever. because it comes from you, and that’s all i want.”

completely unfazed by how easily you saw right through him, he looks down at the hand you’re still holding, the one with a brand new silver ring on his fourth finger.

your words were heard and understood, but you can feel him internally tiptoeing around what’s really on his mind. his eyes, however, carry the same sweetness they always do when he looks at you.

“this is gonna sound really dumb but, i just want to make sure you don’t feel pressured to love… my gift. or to commit to it. i promise i won’t be mad if you tell me you don’t want it”, he tells you, grabbing your other hand to get a look at your own ring, the exact same as him.

it’s now 7:25pm, meaning that it’s been almost 24 hours since vernon has gotten down on one knee to ask the most nerve-wracking question of his entire life. 24 hours since you were legally allowed to call him your fiancé, a much awaited upgrade from the ‘boyfriend’ status.

last night had been a dream come true. but this morning, an uneasy feeling had started crawling into vernon’s mind, making him feel like maybe that dream of his would never come true after all.

dyeing his hair, making dinner, buying gifts, he had really thought about doing anything in his power to keep you from second-guessing your answer from yesterday.

still, nothing would calm his mind except maybe hearing the words from your mouth.

“i’ll love your gift because i love you. and because i spent the last 24 hours on cloud nine, thinking about how lucky i am that you proposed”, you told him in your calmest voice. “i’ll be honest, i even spent my entire day practicing saying “my husband” instead of “boyfriend”… and it sounds really, really nice.”

and that is the exact moment when the crushing weight of doubt and insecurity is lifted from vernon’s shoulders.

he still feels a bit stupid, but in a way that feels great, warm and almost comforting. for the second night in a row, he’s overwhelmed by the pure yet simple feeling of knowing his love is perfectly reciprocated.

“so… does that mean you still want me to be your husband?” he asks with a relieved smile as you trap him in the tightest hug, one hand running in his freshly dyed locks.

he loves you and you love him, that’s the one thing he doesn’t need to hope for. he knows it, and oh how he loves knowing it.

#seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #vernon x reader #vernon fluff #vernon imagines #hansol x reader #seventeen vernon

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19burstraat · 10 months ago

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Random SOC Trivia I Gathered On My Reread

I'll be using this for fics, but it's fun just to read!

Jesper does not hold alcohol well (though this is according to Kaz, who is not exactly impartial)

Wijnstraat, Nemstraat, Havenstraat, Ammberstraat are all street names if you want em

Van Eck has been involved in trying to clean up the Barrel; pious. (Allegedly pious, I doubt he really is)

1/5 Van Eck (or general Kerch trading?) vessels are lost at sea

Kaz arrested three times at ten, twice at eleven, once at fourteen. Does stints in jail but it does not say prison (ppl assume he's been to Hellgate / another prison but I don't think so. He'd never have shut the fuck up about it if he had; I assume the Stadhall Jail)

Kaz's cane is lead-lined. I wasn't sure if this was canon or fanon

Kaz runs book on prize fights, horses, and chance games. Floor boss at crow club since fifteen-ish. Youngest to run a betting shop and has doubled the profits.

Gambling halls: Treasure Chest, Golden Bend, Weddell's Riverboat, Silver Garter

West Stave brothels: The Blue Iris, The Forge, The Obscura, the Willow Switch, the House of Snow

Van Aakster is the widow mercher who sees Nina to ease his grief

Inej likes orange cakes in white paper

Black Tips tattoo is a hand with first and second fingers cut at the knuckle, Razorgulls is 5 birds in wedge formation

Nina Jesper and Kaz definitely all have the crow and cup; the others don't

Jordie seems to like books

ridderspel and spijker are arcade games

Bilge, clams, and wet stone smell in the Barrel (per Retvenko)

Kaz definitely is partial to dogs; Smeet's hounds and the grey dog the Hertzoon household had, the windup dogs, the metaphors. He loves a dog metaphor sorry ur not real babycakes you'd have loved thematic web weaving posts

Geldspin is the cotton mill in Zierfoort, Firma Allerbest is a cannery. Both in Alys' name

Wylan was 8 when Marya 'died'

the black veil tomb is carved like an ancient cargo ship

3 flying fish on a grave: government. Palm trees and snakes: spices.

Inej's mother braids her hair with orange ribbons (colour of persimmons)

University a series of buildings built around the Boekcanal and joined by Speaker's Bridge (where people debate and/or drink). Boeksplein four libraries built around a central courtyard and the Scholar's Fountain

Shipping container at third harbour is a Liddie hideout; Jam Tart House is an old hotel near the slat that the Razorgulls use

Long scar across Kaz's right knuckle

Violating contracts and interfering with the market can get you hanged in Kerch; same sentences as for murder (this is. Insane)

Haskell holds court with his mates at the Fair Weather Inn every week

Belendt is the second oldest Kerch city and sits on the Droombeld River

Jesper was 7 when Aditi died

Inej has an uncle (who seems to have some sort of ringmaster role) and cousins; Hanzi and Asha

Kaz convinced a locksmith in Klokstraat that he was the son of a wealthy merchant who highly valued his collection of priceless snuffboxes, and that's how he knows what locks the rich are using

Hubrecht Mohren, Master Thief of Pijl, who Kaz doesn't appear to think much of; one of Haskell's old cronies

Martin Van Eck, Wylan's great great grandfather, was a ship's captain, brought back a big shipment of spices from Eames Chin and started the Van Eck fortune

Kaz and Jesper (+ other Dregs boys) taught Inej to fight

Kaz and Jordie are from a town near Lij, as per the 'Johannus Rietveld' exposition, but Lij is seemingly the closest major city/county so it's easier to just say they're from Lij lol

The last time the Council of Tides appeared in public was 25 years prior to CK

Kaz found Filip running a monte game on Kelstraat; he also got the clerks who turned over fake info, the fake attorney, the man who gave them free hot chocolate

The spelling of Zentzbridge lapses to Zentsbridge, not sure which is right or if they're actually separate bridges or if there's a lot of wrong quotes floating around lol

Dryden house symbol is the golden wheat sheaf bound with a blue ribbon; Van Eck is the red laurel but we knew that

Kaz taught himself finance and gambling hall rules

Church of Barter roof is copper and long has turned green

Church of Barter built around the First Forge / The Mortar, which is a flat lump of rock that's supposedly Ghezen's altar

Ghezendaal Hospital is. Idk. a hospital. Just thought ppl might want the name

#six of crows #crooked kingdom #grishaverse #soc duology #shadow and bone #my post

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yourladyem · 3 months ago

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Beetlejuice 3 Story Idea

Delores and Rory plan to kidnap Lydia for a special Afterlife sacrifice that would give Dolores power over the Living and immortal beauty without the scars of her death. She uses her power of manipulation to trick Rory into believing she loves him and says the ceremony is for Rory to take Beetlejuice's place in her heart as her immortal partner/lover. But secretly it would bind Beetlejuice to her forever and give her the power she desires to return to the Living.

Beetlejuice, Astrid, and Delia team up to save Lydia. Lydia tries calling for Beetlejuice but Delores blocks her ability. Beetlejuice is the one who notices their connection is severed which causes him to reach out to Astrid for help after finding Delia who also notices her connection to Lydia was also cut. They realize none of them can get a hold of her. But Beetlejuice does figure out he can still contact her through a dream it's a connection with bizarre elements but doable for them.

They could travel through something like Dante's Inferno and Beetlejuice could brag that he literally went through Hell and back for the woman he loves.

No contract this time. No forced wedding. He just does it risking everything for her. But no one realizes it until after they save Lydia who starts questioning his motives immediately after she reunites with them after she found a way to escape. Clues in the dreams he sends her. Beetlejuice sacrifices himself to save her solely out of true love.

Lydia escapes and meets everyone just outside the gates of the sacrificial sanctuary. But her body starts illuminating. She doesn't have much time. They all reunite. Beetlejuice heads for the Hellish sanctuary with fire all around them. Lydia goes after him.

"What's going to happen to you?" Lydia asks.

"I'm giving her what she wants so you can go free?"

"What's the catch? Another bizarre wedding? For a third time? You know you could have asked someone for your Afterlife Green Card. Don't tell me you tricked Astrid into something!"

He sadly smiles at her outburst. He places an ancient sealed scroll in her hands. He holds her hands for a moment and she doesn't pull away. He cups her face and looks deep into her eyes.

"Even after all this time you still haven't figured it out."

She doesn't move away when he kisses her pulling her into his arms. Before she knows it, she's kissing him back.

He lets her go.

"I love you, Lydia." Before she can say anything, he runs towards the sanctuary. Lydia is left stunned watching him disappear into the blazing fires confronting Delores for a final stand off as Delia and Astrid pull her away as they escape.

They make it back to the graveyard outside the church through the same exit Richard showed them. It's a beautiful peaceful day.

Astrid and Delia are delighted the nightmare is over. Lydia stumbles towards the bench in front of the crypt and plots down still reeling from the events.

She looks down at the scroll. With shaky hands, she breaks the seal that is bound with a thin ribbon of red lace. Very familiar red lace. Gold lettering appears on the page.

It's a contract. But not just any contact.

Delia and Astrid join her. Delia sits beside her asking her what's wrong. She's unable to speak and hands the scroll to Astrid, who reads it.

The contract states he willingly traded his Afterlife for her life solely on the basis of true love and selfless sacrifice. No mutual trade-off except her freedom.

Lydia bursts into tears at the surprise of Delia and Astrid and even herself. Delia comforts her.

"Let me guess. You love him too." Delia smirks. Lydia just cries even more. After decades of denial, Lydia finally accepts the truth but now it's too late. Delia just holds her.

"Well, this explains so much, believe it or not. Still. Even after all the hell we went through with him, still better than Rory."

Astrid smirks in agreement. She started liking him too. He wasn't all bad. He was obviously crazy about her mother and now she knew the extent of it.

Time passes.

Lydia is never truly the same again. She checks the mail at the old Deetz home seeing the postcard from Astrid saying she's having a great time in Brazil with her college friends. She talks with Delia and goes through the rest of the mail finding an old folded-up piece of paper stuck to the back of one of the envelopes. She opens it up and it's an old flyer.

Missing the love of your life? Can't live without someone? Realizing you've made a terrible mistake pushing them away?

Same my name 3Xs.

"No way." Delia states

"It can't be." Lydia whispers. They stare at each other. Oh why not.

Beetlejuice.

Nothing.

They head for the foyer. Still nothing.

"Ok. He's not exactly one for subtly. Where is he?" Delia demands placing her fist on her hips. "Where are you! Great. Even I'm starting to miss him."

"The attic." Lydia concludes. They race towards the stairs when a knock comes at the front door.

They freeze. Lydia runs for the front door. A very attractive man with peach fuzz grayish/white hair and very striking familiar eyes smirks at her.

"Miss me, Honeycakes?"

Lydia feels their connection reform. His old self flashes before her then morphs back to the man in front of her. Lydia's jaw drops for more than one reason. "You..."

"It's me. The Juice in the flesh." He grins striking his signature pose.

"It's you?" Lydia finally manages to form a sentence.

"It's me, Lydia." Still grinning.

"It's really you?"

"Mmm hmm."

Her eyes crack in anger. "I'm going to kill you!" She screams charging at him. His smirk drops and bolts for the yard with her not far on his tail.

"Lydia! Lydia! Now wait a minute, Honey!" He keeps screaming at her as she continues trying to grab hold of him.

Delia watches from the porch with headless Charles. "She's going to marry him, isn't she?" She continues watching Lydia's game of murder tag.

"She wouldn't. Would she?" Headless Charles chimes in. Blood spewing out.

"Yes, she would. Still better than Rory, though."

Back in the yard, BJ twists away from his Gothic assailant. "Honey! Honey! Lydia! Babe! Stop!"

"Why? Why should I! Do you know what you put me through?! How are you even alive? How do you look like that?!"

"Did you read the scroll I gave you?"

"Yes!"

He laughs enjoying her irritation catching his breath.

"Then that's all you need to know. I thought it was pretty obvious. I thought it was obvious a long time ago."

She swallows the rising emotion.

"I traded my life for yours that granted me freedom from the Afterlife. Yes, I traded in my good looks for this." Pointing to himself. "Even sacrificing my luscious blonde locks but it was a sacrifice I was willing to make to help the woman I love. Again."

She shoulders sag. She looks at him with guilty eyes.

"Since I died on my wedding night - murdered by a death cultist actually who tricked me into marrying her for my soul - only if I selflessly sacrificed myself to save a person out of pure love I would be freed from my death sentence and could return to the Living and Delores would have no power over me again and she couldn't hurt the person I loved. Didn't think it would ever happen until I met you. By the way she is gone for good. Rory too by the way."

Lydia smiles a little. "So not someone else? Why me? You could have had someone else and gotten your Green Card marrying someone else or sacrificing yourself for someone else?"

"Yes, I could have. Even tried a few times before meeting you. But they weren't you. It was always you. It was always going to be us. And despite your best efforts, you've known that too. You can't stop this. You can delay it but never truly stop it. And you knew that too."

She bites her lip.

So," He pulls out a ring from one of his pockets. "What do you say, Honey? Will you marry for real this time? Third time's the charm." He grins.

She bites back the growing tears and nods. He slides the ring on her finger.

"Ok but no take back this ti-" She cuts him off with a rough kiss.

"Called it." Delia smiles. Charles digs into his pocket and hands her some cash.

Beetlejuice and Lydia break the kiss. Lydia smacks his chest.

"Ow!"

"I love you but don't ever do this to me again! That's for the literal Hell you put me through! Including not answering me when I called for you. I know you heard me!"

And they're back to arguing.

"Yeah, that marriage is going to last forever." Delia shakes her head. "Just like us." She turned to Charles.

Third wedding and they're finally married for real. Vows exchanged and he kisses his bride.

"I just have one question." Lydia whispers. "What is your real name?"

"Well it's actually B-"

Bam! Black screen and credits roll

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hellishjoel · 7 months ago

Text

red

1.3k / pairing: javier peña x f!reader

main masterlist | notifications blog

summary: Javier Peña doesn't love in black and white - he loves in red. warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), allusions to some smutty vibes but no smut, javi in love, reader is described having hair and wears a dress and heels, but otherwise (I believe) no physical description, no use of y/n A/N: this is for the lovely @janaispunk's 1500 kisses challenge! congratulations baby <3 this is an ode to you! I was dutifully given the prompt of forehead kisses - and if anyone gives good forehead kisses (see example above) it's obviously javi. lastly thank you @saradika-graphics for the banner!

You’ve got your red dress on tonight.

The one that paints your body in confidence and allure. Dusted in a silky, satin red.

Javi’s never had a favorite color until now.

Your mere presence demands attention and captures the longing gazes of all who inhabit the room you grace with your stride. You dazzle, you shine, and you’re self-assured.

Your anniversary falls on a rainy night in Bogotá. Thunder claps outside, echoing each step he takes up your apartment stairwell. He brings red roses, a fresh bouquet to honor the importance today holds.

One year. That’s four seasons of love that Javier has never felt before.

He wraps his rough knuckles against your door and listens patiently to your delicate steps on the other side.

“Oh, Javi,” you breathe with a pearly smile, “they’re beautiful.” You thank him with a kiss on his stubbled cheek and he squeezes your hip in return, feeling the soft satin of your dress dancing beneath his fingertips.

That fucking red dress.

It transports him to a warm summer night, where the sun blazed an orange-yellow hue across the horizon. Ice-cold drinks giving him the courage to ask you for a dance. Your perfume, that smile, those eyes. Dancing in close proximity, your bodies dripping in sweat as Javi took the lead, your heels clicking across the old wood floors of the cantina. But that was many moons ago. The first dress he ever saw you in, still his favorite.

“Anything for you, hermosa.”

And he knows you by now. Knows to make a late dinner reservation to allow you extra time to get ready. It’s a process, you’ve told him. He sits at the edge of your bed and watches you in silent admiration.

Your bedroom is cloaked in darkness, the only illumination coming from the candlesticks, their gentle orange flames flickering in the breeze wafting through the open balcony doors. Outside, raindrops perform a delicate dance on the metal roof, creating a mesmerizing symphony of tinny notes.

Like an angel, you float across the room. Where are your wings? Where is your halo? Maybe left long ago in that cantina where you traded them for Javi. But you’re still an angel in his eyes, the most beautiful goddess he’s ever seen, the woman he praises day and especially night. In the lap of his lover, he is never alone.

He notes how articulately you pick your accessories, bringing earrings up to your lobe and seeing how they complement the look. Maybe a necklace—no, the bracelet he bought you a few months back. He smirks at the sight, and you catch his gaze in the vanity mirror.

Javi wonders why he showers you with gifts - maybe a hint of possession, more so that he thinks you deserve the finer things he can offer you. And you’ve always been so gracious and excited with every gift wrap you delicately tear or ribbon you untie. Money doesn’t matter compared to that million-dollar smile.

“Javi, pick my perfume for me, will you?”

And now, getting ready becomes a two-person job. But he likes this part; he likes dressing you up, picking your lingerie in the shops, and choosing which heels you wear. There's an undeniable allure in your reliance on him, allowing him to fulfill the role of being essential in your life. Needed.

He chooses a sweet-scented perfume—not blossomy, more like vanilla and cinnamon—sweet enough to fit your personality, thick enough to make him drunk on you. With his eyes closed and lost in a room full of people, he could find you. And he would.

“Heels?” He offers, already opening your closet and staring at the different colored stilettos and slingbacks.

“Yes, please, baby.” You coo, delighting in his attentive presence as the melody of your perfume fills the air, each spritz a tender caress upon your neck, shoulders, and a playful touch in your tousled hair.

He bends down to one knee and guides your hand on his shoulder.

You hum sweetly, nails grazing the back of his neck and gently scratching the base of his scalp. His jet-black hair is soft and thick, weaving perfectly between your fingers.

He wasn’t always like this, so warm. He was all the things he wanted to appear as, strong and confident. But that was all an exterior façade, one that took months to slowly chip away at like a chisel to marble.

A boulder was in place of his heart, only growing larger and harder with trauma. Each painful memory, each betrayal and loss added another layer to the stone, making it more impenetrable and cold. Eventually, the weight of it threatened to crush his spirit entirely, leaving him numb and distant from the world around him.

But then you came along, chipping away at the hardened exterior with your warmth and kindness. Your presence began to erode the layers of pain and sorrow, softening the edges of the boulder. Slowly, bit by bit, you managed to reach the core of his heart, bringing light and hope where there had once been only darkness.

Javier Peña had fallen in love.

“You’re so handsome, Javi,” you praise, “I love you.” The sentiment never grows old. You feel Javi’s head move in and gently place a kiss on the inside of your thigh, just below the hem of your dress. Goosebumps quickly sprinkle across your skin. He always has such an effect on you.

“Estoy enloquecido por ti,” Javi purrs as he lifts your ankle and slips the heel onto your foot, careful fingers buckling the strap around your ankle. You point your toes admiringly, allowing him to work on the next heel.

As he stands, his fingers skim up your sides and his height looms over you. His cologne melts your inhibitions, forcing a subtle sigh from cherry-lacquered lips.

His forehead rests against yours, letting the magnetic charge between you both finally reach its peak. His nose brushes against your own, mascaraed lashes fluttering closed.

Just as Javi moves in to place a kiss on your lips, you’re quick to gently rest a hand against his chest. The moment pauses and your eyes dance.

“I just put my lipstick on,” You whisper and softly giggle.

Javi breaks into a small smirk. His woman has priorities.

The lipstick is a fantastic red, soft, and a little dangerous. It's subtle, but also not subtle at all. Like the color was made for you, a perfect shade that heightens your beauty and charisma. You’re an artist, the way you perfectly glide the lipstick across your pillow-soft lips; not a smudge or mistake is made.

“You’re right, mi querido.” Javier reroutes his path, closes his eyes, and places a gentle kiss on your forehead. The subtle gesture is just as good as a kiss to the lips, maybe even better. It wraps around you like a warm hug and it stays there long after he’s gone. Your insides dance with a delightful flutter, a warmth cascading down your spine, enveloping you in a sensation akin to heaven itself.

You nuzzle your nose against his own and sigh peacefully, feeling Javier’s arms tighten around your waist.

“Do you like my dress, Javi?”

He playfully hums as his fingers teasingly graze the fabric, gently squeezing the globes of your ass beneath it.

“Love it,” he damn near growls.

You swiftly swat his wandering hands away, sensing his desire to tug at the material. If you stay in your bedroom any longer, you fear you’ll miss the standing dinner reservation you’ve had for well over a week.

You reward him with a kiss on his neck and you distantly taste his aftershave.

Javi adores the beautiful mark you leave on his neck, a lingering stain that refuses to be simply wiped away with a napkin and water. It remains a constant reminder of you until he showers, and he thinks about you all over again. You’re forever there, forever his.

He stares at your figures in the mirror, wrapped up in one another.

One kiss on his tan skin, and he’s no longer Javier Peña. He’s yours.

Yours in red.

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daycourtofficial · 1 month ago

Note

Hello, I'd like to order a pumpkin spice + caramel latte with a cookie, please 🙏💕

I also included Atlas in this because I found this deep in my drafts and okay I keep saying it but this one got me 😭😭😭 I have outdone myself a bit with this one

Last chance to order a coffee for gingerfucker week 🔫

“We could cancel.”

She ignored him, her focus on holding Atlas’s kicking legs to put him in his pants. Eris huffed, holding down Atlas’s arms to help calm his son’s squirming.

“Do they really deserve to see him?”

She finished pulling the tiny pants up before turning to Eris, an annoyed look on her face at his words.

“Fostering a relationship between yourself and the people of Autumn means giving them things.”

“Yes, but they know his name, surely that’s enough.”

His mate gazed at him, arms crossed across her chest. The red gown she wore made her look resplendent. Red velvet, off the shoulder sleeves. She was pushing boundaries for Autumnal nobility; ladies were expected to be modest - covered shoulders, covered legs, loose fabrics.

She, however, had slowly been showing more and more skin over the years, setting trends throughout the court. In a quick three years, female’s fashion had changed drastically, a quality tailor or seamstress in high demand.

Her tanned skin looked so warm beneath the red fabric, as if the falling leaves couldn’t resist kissing her skin before they fell.

She wore a string of black pearls, a rarity found only on a short stretch of coastline in the Night Court. She was quick to exchange her normal blues and blacks for varying shades of red, green, orange, and brown. But she could never shake a black accessory somewhere, a tiny homage to her home court, to her family miles away.

“They need to see him, Eris.”

“The last time anyone not apart of our family or staff saw him was against our will.”

“It will be okay. We will show him off from one of the balconies.”

She fixed the tiny bonnet on Atlas’s head, the babe pulling it askew immediately. His chubby fingers wrapped around the ribbon, holding tightly.

“They haven’t seen a High Lord’s babe in a long time. The last one was Lucien - don’t the people deserve a new young heir to adore?”

“The people of Autumn never adored Lucien. He looked weird.”

She gave her mate a look, shaking her head as she looked at Atlas. “Daddy’s so silly.”

“No one has ever called me silly.”

She shook her head, her voice taking on an affectionate tone, not looking away from their son. “Not to his face they don’t.”

The murmuring of a crowd outside caused both of them to look, Atlas taking the opportunity to reach for his mother’s shiny necklace. He tugged lightly, as if controlled by a dragon desperate for the jewels.

She gently wrapped around his hand before he could hurt her. “No, Atlas. That would hurt.”

He looked up, nodding as if he understood her words.

“Eris, they’re growing restless.” She had redirected her attention to him, the playful tone gone, replaced by exasperation.

“Let them.”

“You are very unhelpful.”

“Haven’t my new policies as High Lord been enough to earn their favor? Crops have never grown so well, I’ve lowered taxation rates, worked for fair trading rates between us and neighboring courts. What more do they want?” He couldn’t help the exasperation in his tone, the past few years both incredibly successful but exhausting.

“They want you, Eris.”

“They have never wanted me.”

“They have never wanted the you they thought they knew. They have never wanted a second Beron. But you’re not Beron. You’re different.”

Eris sighed through his nose, looking at Atlas. He hated being on the wrong end of his mate’s stubbornness.

“What if showing them Atlas just gives them a better look before they can take him away? We can wait until he’s older.” Her free hand reached out, brushing through Eris’s hair with a softness he never quite got used to.

“Atlas deserves to be loved by more than us. We can’t lock him away from a court he may one day rule.”

“But I want to.” It was Atlas who reached out, grabbing his dad’s nose and holding onto it. Eris leaned into the touch, his forehead meeting his son’s.

“I know. But he is going to be so loved. And no one will take him away from us.”

Eris had never heard such loud cheering, such audible happiness until the crowd caught sight of his son. It was a sound he would hear two more times, the presentation of his children making him feel closer to the people of Autumn than other act as High Lord.

Most of them could not relate to the power he held, the title given to him by the land, the decisions he made daily having far larger consequences than most could fathom. But they could relate to the title he preferred more than any other: father.

#ask #gingerfucker #eris vanserra fanfic #eris x y/n #eris x you #eris x reader

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clearheartsgreyflowerss · 10 months ago

Text

A loving feeling- Neuvillette x Reader

Neuvillette loves the feeling of you running your hands through his hair, it's one of the only things in the world that can truly calm him down. At first he was nervous to let you play with it, as it does tend to get tangled very easily. Though all of his reservations melted away when he felt just how gentle your hands were, your repetitive motions calmed him immediately.

After that, he would often ask you to do his hair, letting you have free reign over how you styled it. You generally just put it in his normal ribbon, but sometimes you would make small braids here and there tucking them in with the rest of his hair. And very occasionally, if you woke up early enough, you would make one large French braid. (Which takes an ungodly amount of time with the amount of hair he has). While he obviously needs to look nice for work, he trusts that anything you do will look nice.

Not only do you play with his hair in the mornings, but also at night, when he's had an especially hard day. You could always tell the moment he walked in, that look on his face was just slightly different, yet you could still see the pain etched into it.

You would pull him into your arms, letting him rest his head on your chest as you ran your fingers through the long strands of his hair. You hummed a song that you honestly didn't remember the title of, but He always seemed to like that one the most. He would never drift off while you did this, as relaxed as it made him feel, he never wanted to miss a second of it.

The rain almost always ceases after you comfort him, and if it does continue on, it's never more than a light drizzle. That's honestly how you came to figure out how much he liked the feeling of your hands in his hair, was the weather.

Even if he sometimes thinks he's a little too dependent on you, he wouldn't trade this little time he had with you for the world.

A/n: Guys I can't stop thinking about him and his hair, like this is so self indulgent I want to play with his hair so badly.

Anyway this has been sitting in my drafts unfinished for a while, I was scared I was making him too ooc, then I realized it's my writing and I can do whatever I want :D

Daily click to help those in Palestine

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x y/n #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #neuvillette x y/n #neuvillette x you

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razorblade180 · 2 months ago

Text

A Splendid Day

Furina:*packing groceries* That’s everything. Thank you very much.

Merchant:The pleasure is all mine! You’re one of my best customers.

Furina:The price is still 500 mora for everything?

Merchant:On the house.

Furina:P-Pardon?

Merchant:Your birthday. It’s on the house, and I will accept nothing less!

Furina:But-

Merchant:It may not be a national holiday anymore and you may not be our Archon, but a little free macaroni and beverages is the least I’d like to offer. A birthday is still a birthday.

Furina:…*smiles* Thank you for the gift.

xxxxxx

A little later, the national celebrity walks down the streets of her nation only to be stopped by the sight of a top hat floating down into her hands. She looks up to see Lyney, Lynette, and even Freminet sitting on the railing of bridge covered in the nation’s flowers in a pattern that spelled her name.

Lyney:HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Lynnette:*clapping*

Freminet:T-Ta Da….

Lyney:C’mon you two. A little more energy.

Furina:Hahaha! My, my, this is quite the shock. *red* How long have you been planning this?

Lynette:Your birthday is no secret. We had ample time.

Freminet:The hardest part was keeping them alive long enough to do this.

Lyney:Just our little way of showing our gratitude. We wouldve baked a cake, but I fear our skills our outmatched in that department.

Furina:All cake is good cake if it’s sweet enough. Who is outmatching your-

???:Haaaapppy Birthday!

Furina didn’t get the chance to turn around before Navia swooped her up into a bear hug, spinning her around lovingly while Clorinde and Sigewinne held a small present patiently.

Furina:Never mind Lyney!

Navia:*puts her down.* How’s the birthday girl!?

Furina:Startled, but pleasantly surprised.

Sigewinne:Perfect! Exactly how a birthday should be!

Clorinde:Happy Birthday, Lady Furina.

Furina:Hehe, wow. Everyone take the day off or something? I was expecting a little get together or gift. Honestly I’m a tad embarrassed.

Chiori:*struts in* Since when does the wonderful Furina de Fontaine prefer a “little” get together?

Furina:How long have I been retired from leadership?

Chiori:Pfft, please. In or out of power, you’re still the same person who demanded dozens of retakes for a film in the name of “producing a diamond among diamonds in the craft.”

Furina:And we won! I will never forsake the arts!

Sigewinne:And we will never forsake your wonderful efforts.

Her and Clorinde walked up and presented the box. Furina only had to undo the ribbon to reveal it to be a makeup box containing an array of colors and tools to use.

Sigewinne:I made every color!

Clorinde:I made the box.

Chiori:Now we stop by my store so you can feast on Navia’s pastries in style.

Furina:How many pastries?

Navia:Yes.

Furina:Fantastic.

xxxxxx

More than 500 birthdays, and this might be the first one filled with true joy. Eating cheesecake while wearing a lovely pale blue sundress with dark blue water droplets on the skirt and cuffs that matched the sun hat she was given. Her nails matched perfectly and her lipstick was admittedly a little ruined now because of danishes, but she didn’t care! Furina even smelled like fresh rain thanks to Emilie’s lovely new perfume she made with the help of resource gathering/testing from Chevreuse and Neuvillette.

Charlotte took a photo of the girl’s pure joy as she dined with friends.

Furina:!? Please tell me you didn’t take that mid bite?

Charlotte:Of course I did. You need moments to smile at.

Furina:Myself!?

Wriothesley:*pouring more tea* Gotta admit, I’m a little jealous I didn’t get this brand on my birthday.

Clorinde:You didn’t like the “gift” I gave you?

Wriothesley:Oh I loved it. Wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Navia:Don’t spoil good food with certain topics you too. This is a sweet gathering. Not saucy.

Furina:You all really outdid yourselves. I don’t know what to say aside from thank you.

Lynette: “You can have the last slice” is a second option.

Freminet:Ummm-

Lynette:It was a joke. I would never rob someone of that honor. The last of any dessert is always the best.

Furina:Would you like to split the-

Lynette:If you insist.

Furina cuts the last danish is half and shares, giggling alongside her friends at Lynette’s perky ears as she ate. The girl was swept in the laughter she hadn’t realized Neuvillette had finally joined them.

Neuvillette:Today seems like a wonderful day to be out.

Furina:Huh? Neuvillette!? You took off too!?

Neuvillette:Is that so strange. Half the day has gone by. I used it do enough work to give the rest of today to properly wish you a wonderful birthday. I’m happy to see others make that possible.

Furina:Yes, it’s really more than I ever hoped her. I’m serious when I say I don’t really know what to say. Frankly I-

Navia:Now don’t go saying “I don’t deserve it.”

Chevreuse:She’s right. Thank you is more than enough. Besides, everyone here would easily agree that you deserve nice things ten fold.

Furina:Sniffles You guys… don’t make me cry today!

Neuvillette:So*reveals jewelry box* this might be a bad time.

Furina:You have another gift for me!?

Neuvillette:I wouldn’t count pointing out a good source of water for your perfume as a my gift. I could do that any day of the week. This however, took quite a bit more time and a trip to the bottom of several bodies water.

Knowing Furina best, Neuvillette wrapped the gift in a way that allowed her to still open it with ruining the design. The young lady choked on her own breath when her eyes saw shining white pearls in the form of a necklace. Neuvillette took the jewelry and put it around her neck while everyone was stunned into silence.

Freminet:Those are- how did you find so many perfect pearls?

Neuvillette:I am no stranger to sea life or waiting.

Navia:And here I thought I gave the best present without a doubt.

Clorinde:It wasn’t a contest.

Lyney, Lynette, Chiori: No it kinda was. We went all out.

Furina:I’m just- these are so expensive looking! And beautiful! I might have to start revising my entire wardrobe to wear these more often.

Neuvillette:Hehe, I don’t mind if you limit their use to a special occasion like today or a grand opening of a play. I simply wanted to give you something only I could manage, like everyone else.

Wriothesley:All I did was supply a big enough kitchen for Navia. Now I’m starting to think I should’ve fought some ancient monster for gems alongside Clorinde.

Chevreuse:Umm, Clorinde? When you said you made the makeup box….

Clorinde:I used only the finest of materials. It just so happened the finest things may involve interacting with less than fine creatures.

Furina:You could buy a box! All of you are so…wonderfully ridiculous. Neuvillette, thank you for this. I love it. Today has truly been splendid. I couldn’t ask for anything more.

Charlotte:You’re welcome!

Emilie:Charlotte, what was your gift.

Charlotte:Who do you think made all the invites, planned the timing and picked the location? It’s a little past midday, the space isn’t crowded, and more importantly, Furina still hasn’t eaten a proper birthday cake!

Furina:Ooooo I still get one? Wonderful! Although…I’m admittedly a bit on the fence. *crosses arms* I can’t believe Aether bragged about his baking skills just to go off to Natlan before ever letting me get my own personal cake! Not to mention not a single birthday letter! He’s probably off breaking some law right about now or fighting an ancient evil he stumbled into.

???:That sounds more like you, than me. I’m actually careful.

???:Yeah! How else would be able to carry a packaged cake through the desert!?

Furina froze up, her heart skipping a beat after hearing two familiar voices call behind her. She slowly looked over her shoulder and saw familiar faces that made her ignore any on lookers as her body took off out of her seat without thinking; the girl was full on sprinting towards Aether so quickly that he had no choice but to hand over the three layered cake to Paimon before catching Furina, who jumped right into his arms. Thankfully Clorinde zipped over to help Paimon balance the final dessert, but frankly, everyone doubted Furina cared about the cake as her embrace around Aether grew tighter while he spun her.

Furina couldn’t care less about any pictures getting taken or the giggles from her friends at the moment. She was just happy to be held again, resting her face in the crook of his neck.

Aether:H-Hello. You look lovely. I take it you missed me?

Furina:Yes. Don’t you dare let go until I say so.

Aether:*red* O-Oh. I thought you were going to deny it.

Furina:Later, but for now…

She raised her head to see his dumb smile before giving Aether a heartfelt kiss. Clorinde leaned over awkwardly and pulled down Furina’s sun hat over the two in order to create any semblance of privacy.

Neuvillette:I think she forgot she’s in company.

Sigewinne:Well, I think Aether won.

Navia:If I had to lose, it’s an honor to go out like this.

Chiori:You actually lost to Charlotte. If she planned the spot alongside the timing with the invites…

The reporter held up a photo of birthday girl with a tearful smile getting spun around in the arms of her happiness smiling back at her as the warm light of the afternoon barely broke through around the vast colors of flower petals.

Charlotte:Like I said, you need moments to smile at.

#genshin impact #gi navia #gi clorinde #gi sigewinne #gi chevreuse #gi charlotte #gi chiori #gi emilie #gi aether #gi paimon #gi furina #gi wriothesley #furina de fontaine #aerina #gi lyney #gi lynette #gi freminet

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dawn-moths · 1 year ago

Text

“Show Me You Love Me With the Shape of Your Bite”

Noe Archiviste x Female Reader

word count: 4300+

(celebrating two years of this blog, i’m back with a lil one shot for noe because the first fic i ever posted was for him. // A human’s strength is nothing compared to a vampire’s— a fact that’s always concerned Noe when it comes to being with you in such an intimate way. But, unlike how most of your own kind would warn you of, you’ve never had a reason to doubt or fear his intentions with you. Besides, as if letting him bite you on a normal basis wasn’t proof enough, even in the worst case scenario, you’ve already made it clear to Noe that you don’t necessarily mind a little pain if he’s the one causing it.)

content warning/disclaimer: 18+ content! minors dni! smut, vampires, biting/marking, blood/readers blood is drunk, reader is a bit of a masochist while Noe is apprehensive about hurting her too much, rough sex at times, size difference, dickriding, aftercare.

*ao3 mirror*

***

Ribbons of broken, silver moonlight streamed in through the gaps of the curtains, the shadows of dusk dancing across the floors, starbursts of amber and coral shimmering on the polished hardwood from the crackling fire burning low and sultry in its stoney hearth.

In the night, Paris came alive, the city lights sparkling like a sea of stars across the horizon, the constant murmur and buzz of the after-dark crowds humming through the air in a stream of noise and energy, muffled and distant from where you now lay, yet you could still imagine the intensity of it all after growing so used to being a part of the pack yourself.

Ever since meeting Noe, you’d traded rising in the early morning and twilight wind-downs for long, late nights and views of the dawn breaking on the horizon, the first muted shades of lilac and gold signaling your time to rest rather than the plum and navy of night blanketing itself across the sky like most others of your kind followed the consistent rhythm of.

You should’ve guessed after the first few times he’d suggested you meet by moonlight rather than daylight that he was afflicted with the forbidden curse— that he was a vampire— but even back then you wouldn’t have cared.

Because Noe Archiviste was as captivating and handsome as he was charming and sweet, he was gentle and kind and compassionate and everything you’d grown up being told those of his kind were not. Because, to everyone else, vampires were monsters. They were cold and cruel, ruthless and ravenous, and among the worst of them were the wolves in sheep’s clothing, using pretty words and entrancing appearances to lure in their prey before sinking their teeth in deep.

Your Noe was the sun after a summer’s rain, warm and inviting. He was a home to return to after a long day, safe and familiar. He was the first face you looked for in a crowd, his name ready to fall from your lips as those two, lilting phantom syllables rested on your tongue.

Some days, you still found yourself reluctant to call what you two shared love, only for the fact that you’d both been keeping it a secret from everyone outside yourselves. But with all the feelings you held for him on a consistent basis in mind, how could what you felt for him be anything else?

You two were far more bonded than any human couple was. Noe knew the taste of your blood after all, had committed the flavor to memory, could distinguish it by a single drop alone. And you knew the imprint of his teeth just as well, craved the way his sharp incisors found a home in your supple flesh night after night, addicted to the ivory’s sharp and satisfying sting.

“Harder—” you breathed, gently writhing under Noe’s hold on you, though with no real means of escaping him. “Harder, Noe, please—!” You gasped as his bite sunk in a fraction deeper, drawing more rivulets of ruby red from the tender spot on your shoulder, sending a quick shudder down your spine, the sensation creeping vertebrae by vertebrae until it welled into the sticky, fluttering warmth of arousal pooling in your lower belly.

As his tongue lapped at the welling beads of red, slow and gentle to savor the taste of you, you let out a broken moan, body arching to follow the heat of his mouth. Noe was always so afraid to go too far, to lose control and end up hurting you, no matter how many times you assured him you wouldn’t ask for the pain if you didn’t want it. But he also couldn’t help but give in to your requests, even if sometimes it made his stomach twist with guilt.

The moment you started making those succulent, saccharine mewling sounds of pleasure though, it was as if all of his ice-dipped remorse melted away. He could drink down your whines and moans just as easily as he could your blood, meeting your mouth for a languid, tongue-entwined kiss, letting you taste your own blood as you parted your lips to let him in.

You’d asked him before what blood tasted like to vampires, said all you could make out from the coppery flavor was the wince-inducing bitterness that had you resisting the urge to screw up your features and spit it from your mouth. So it was hard to believe him when he described it as sweet— sometimes even sickly so— with a hint of pleasant salt and the lingering undertones of something that could only be compared to addiction.

But your part of this exchange didn’t require you to enjoy the taste. For you, it was the feeling— the completely embodied sensation— of what having your blood drunk by him felt like that urged you to keep seeking out his teeth.

It was heavenly. Pure ecstasy. It made you forget why humans had spent so many centuries fearing vampires, if only for the fact that, if it weren’t for you and Noe’s special bond, he probably could’ve drained you dry and left you for dead like the legends of old warned about.

There were still plenty of vampires lurking the streets and hiding in the shadows whose hunger had gone insatiable, morphing them into greedy, voracious monsters who couldn’t see any innocent life past all that gushing red. But your Noe was different. He’d held onto his morality longer than most of his kind would ever have the will to consider, let alone succeed at, and you guessed you could consider yourself pretty lucky that you’d run into him on that first fateful night rather than someone else more sinister and selfish.

“You ok…?” Noe asked in between shallow, panting breaths, his hands splayed on either side of your head as he gazed down at you, lips stained red and shining with your shared saliva, the tip of his tongue darting out to catch the fading crimson that remained. The next thing you felt was his palm, warm, now that his energy had been replenished from your blood, cradling your cheek. You lay underneath him, back sinking into the mattress and eyes closed as his shadow blanketed over your bare form, allowing yourself to drift off into the serenity that often followed Noe’s feedings.

You felt safe. Held. Comforted by his presence and by the fact that, during this act, you were two becoming one in a way few would ever know or understand.

Letting him drink from you often came after sex. It allowed a euphoric extension on the galaxy of pleasure that Noe’s body could coax from yours. It also ensured that he didn’t have too much strength to unleash upon your fragile human form, his pace slow and sensual as he buried himself deeper and deeper into you. But sometimes, like tonight, when he indulged in a feeding beforehand, well…

You knew you were going to be in for one hell of a ride.

“Maybe I took too much this time…” Noe muttered to himself in a low, worried tone as you felt the bed shift around you, your eyes fluttering open to watch as he changed position, carefully lifting your limp figure up to drape and rest against his chest before leaning back against the barrier of pillows that lined the headboard. He was carding his long fingers through your lightly tousled hair, mumbling sporadic thoughts under his breath under the false pretense that you’d drifted off to sleep. You thought you heard him say something about stopping there for the night, not wanting to push you past your limits.

That was enough to jolt you back to consciousness, just enough to stir in his grasp and breathe out a weak and airy, “Noe…” on account of still recovering from your recent blood loss. You lifted your head slightly to meet his eyes, which had now been leeched of their glowing, crimson color and turned back to calming lavender on account of his appetite being satisfied. You gave him a feeble, tired smile and said, “It’s ok… I’m ok. I can keep going…”

The vampire considered you for a moment. He knew you had a habit of pushing yourself, but before he could think on it too long, you were taking his face in your hands and luring him back to you with one of those adorable, delicate little giggles. “Noe, come on…” you reassured him with a smile, devotion sparkling in your eyes, “You know I trust you more than anyone else. Plus, even if you do hurt me a little bit…” You paused, feeling your cheeks heat before admitting what you were about to next, despite having done it several times to him already. “Even if you do hurt me, I don’t mind. I… like the pain, remember?”

Beckoning him closer to you now, letting him lay his head against your chest and cradling your arms around him like he was the delicate one, like he was the one worth worrying about and protecting, you carded your little fingers through his snowy locks of hair and softly spoke to him, telling him again that you trusted him, how you loved him, and as the words left your mouth you knew them to be true, no hesitation in the confession you’d been so afraid to acknowledge prior.

Noe could’ve sunk so far into the comfort you gave him he would’ve drowned in it, finding he was never as soft and sentimental with anyone else as when he was with you. He never allowed himself to let his guard down to such a level, for a moment forgetting that, outside of this room, you two were widely considered to be enemies— hunter and prey, a monster and a girl.

He sometimes used to wonder if he’d ever find someone he could love who would also love him in return, before meeting you. And what was a luckier, more divine thing than to have your own angel to hold? To have someone who thought and cared about you as much as you thought and cared about them?

“Alright…” Noe mumbled, his cheek pressed to your chest, listening to your beating heart, counting out each gentle drum of the steady rhythm. As he lifted his head to meet your tired, half-lidded gaze, he said, “But I need you to promise me one thing…” Rising further to sit up, the two of you across from one another, bodies bare and on display for each other to see, to have, to hold, Noe’s words dripped with earnesty as he said, “If things start to go too far, I need you to tell me.”

“Noe, I—”

But he cut you off, cupping your cheek in his palm. “I know we’ve talked about this before, but I also know you haven’t always been completely honest with me about it.” You resisted the urge to swallow down the lump of guilt that had curled up in your throat, unable to deny his concerned accusation. Softly stroking his thumb along your jaw, so feathery light you could barely feel it, he set his lilac gaze on your neck where his bite had already begun to bruise and scab over, now a deep shade of wine. He said, “It’s been a while since I— since we’ve done this after a feeding…”

He didn’t need to explain any further. You knew exactly what he was so worried about now— the fact that, last time he drank beforehand and not after, it had resulted in you with tears streaming down your face and several more bites and bruises to paint your skin while he’d been blinded by the carnality of it all. You’d barely been able to walk the next day, feeling like something inside of you had been broken beyond repair, and even though you’d tried to assure him you would be ok, deep down there had been some fear sparked in you.

The pain he’d caused you that night had surpassed the fine line of the sugar-coated, thorny pleasure that you craved and ended up as injury instead.

Noe had said he’d never allow himself to partake in your blood before sex again, though, after months of trying to convince him not every time had to be like that first one and that, while you couldn’t necessarily erase the memory, you could help fix it by replacing it with something better, you’d gotten him to come around.

“I promise,” you told him, reaching forward to take his hand. He laced his fingers with yours, careful even in that act, as if each new touch he bestowed upon you from now until morning held the risk of breaking his own vow. “If it gets to be too much, I’ll tell you.”

You felt relief when his lips twitched into a soft, dreamy grin, the expression there and then gone in an instant, becoming entranced with the way your little hand fit together with his, palms pressed together and creating more shared warmth, Noe able to feel your pulse through your skin and noting the way it was picking up speed a little as he placed his other hand on your knee and gave a gentle squeeze.

It was you who leaned in to kiss him then, catching him off guard for a moment until he followed your cue and allowed himself to melt back into you, the hand on your knee sliding up to rest on your bare thigh, kneading the plush flesh there, slow and savoring, as you combed your fingers through his hair and sighed into his mouth, your core already coiling again in tiny, tight little pulses as his fingers grew closer to brushing up against where you were already slick and waiting.

A tender, broken moan spilled from your mouth as his first finger slipped inside, testing your tightness and comfort before adding in a second and curling at his knuckles, causing you to arch your back and slide further down to lay flat for him, spreading your legs wider as he slowly scissored his digits inside of you, biting back his own moan when he felt your hole clenching around what was inside harder the more he stretched you.

He caught his bottom lip on one of his fangs, vehemently reminding himself to stay in control, don’t go too far, don’t hurt her as his own arousal pulsed thick and eager through his veins, that familiar sharp pang of adrenaline already beginning to surge.

He was starting to remember now— how hard it had been to stop once he’d started— and the thought made his stomach churn for a whole other reason. But you were right. This time didn’t have to be like the last. It wouldn’t be. He’d make sure of it.

Once he’d prepped you enough to take him, Noe began to line himself up with your entrance, feeling his own cock twitch in his hand as he caught sight of the glistening beads that drooled from your cunt, asking you if you were ok before nudging in the tip, pausing when you momentarily winced, only continuing when you nodded at him to signal it was alright for him to keep going.

And, god, you loved how you could feel every single vein and ridge of him as he carved out a home inside of you, the velvety flesh of his cock massaging every part of your insides like it had been designed to do so, both your bodies devoted and destined to learn each other in this way long before you’d even met. The sweet sting of him splitting you in two made your tummy tighten and flutter, your pussy squeezing around the length of him just enough to give a teasing taste of what he already expected was to come.

His breathing was soon beginning to pick up speed, Noe hoping to hide just how much you were affecting him already as he forced out even, shuddering huffs, hunching over you while he tried not to let himself go completely, no matter how badly he wanted to right now.

It made him remember something else he’d almost forgotten about that last time— just how much better you felt when he was inside you after he’d been replenished by your blood, all his senses alive, every nerve alight with the heightened vitality that he gained from a recent feeding. It’s what made this all so dangerous in the first place.

“It’s ok…” you assured him, your own chest moving with the shallow, panting breaths of anticipation as you remedied your prior words with, “I’m ok. I trust you…”

Noe wanted to believe he could trust himself too. And as he felt the animalistic urgency within him simmer a little, he figured it was alright to start moving.

As much as it killed him to go so slow, he forced himself to hold out, gradually rolling his hips to meet yours, your voices moaning in tandem, creating a lilting melody of pleasure with each inch he drove deeper into you and every constricting squeeze of your cunt around his cock.

“Harder—” you were telling him again, the request cracking with a breathy whine as you felt him brush against your cervix, sharp jolts sparking through your abdomen followed by the slow, syrupy drip of pleasure that ran thick through your blood. You felt Noe hesitate for a moment, but when you twisted your fingers through his silky white hair and gave a tug, he snapped his hips forward hard enough to shove you a few inches up the bed. A small yelp emitted from you, clipped with a satisfied mewl, and you loosened your fist in his hair, tenderly stroking the back of his neck, playing with the wispy tufts at the base of his skull as you whispered out, “That’s it… Just like that…”

Noe had to pin your wrists down then, find some way to keep you anchored as he prepared to pound into you harder, though not yet with the rigorous speed you both knew he was capable of. And when you asked him to bite you again, well…

That time, Noe just couldn’t tell you no.

Sinking his teeth into your unmarked shoulder and feeling the skin break, more of your warm, sticky blood flooding into his mouth, Noe drank down gulp after gulp in rapid succession. This made him forget to mind his strength for a moment, and as you fell more slack under his hold, lulled by the euphoria of having your blood drunk by him for the second time that night, he nearly lost you.

He came back to his senses just in time, his saliva filled mouth pulling away from the new bite with a glittering strand of diluted reddish-pink bowing and snapping back onto the crook between your neck and shoulder.

He was partially horrified with himself, and for a moment wondered if he’d finally gone too far, past the point of no return, but was able to exhale a sigh of relief when you fluttered open your tired, bleary eyes and your shallow breathing registered to his sensitive hearing.

“I don’t think I can do this…” the vampire admitted under his breath, sounding disappointed in himself as he pulled out of you and used the pad of his thumb to swipe up a drop of red that was slowly dripping down towards your collar bones, shamelessly licking it away before casting you a quick, guilty glance. “I’m going to hurt you again. I know I am. I—”

Trying to prop yourself up onto your elbows in a way that was less than graceful, to say the least, you blinked the blood loss from your vision until Noe came back into focus. After a few minutes the swaying sensation of lightheadedness abated and you were able to roll yourself over, laying on your stomach as you stared at him sitting on the edge of the bed and looking stressed and conflicted.

You might’ve been able to call it a night, if not for the fact that you were still burning up inside with the need to release all this pent up arousal, so you decided to try approaching things from a different angle.

“Hey…” You lightly ran your fingertips along his spine, watching his back muscles flex as he turned partially to glance over his shoulder at you. “Lay down.”

Noe was already beginning to apologize, though for what exactly, you weren’t sure— as far as you were concerned, he’d done nothing wrong other than stop before letting you come— but you pressed a finger to his lips before he could finish his spoken atonement.

You had him right where you wanted him— right where you needed him now. “Stop talking,” you said, climbing atop him once he was laying flat on his back, straddling him as you took his face in both your palms, his hands quickly reaching for your hips to help steady you when you began to sway slightly, still not fully recovered from the blood loss.

You were staring at him, desperately searching all that alluring lavender for any sign that he understood, and he was staring back at you as if he were being touched by god, completely enraptured by the gentle light in your eyes alone. “Let me take care of you,” you murmured, the moment of revelation drifting away. “You always do such a good job at taking care of me…” Taking his still hard cock in your hand, a small smirk curving on your lips when you felt him slightly tense beneath you, his stomach flinching, you lined it up with your entrance once more. “It’s my turn now.”

Noe let out a stuttering breath of ecstasy as you sunk down on him, both of you needing less time to catch your breath now but no less urgent in your need for each other. And as you began to grind your hips down on him, your clit rubbing hard against his pelvic bone every time you rolled forward and making your eyes tip to the back of your head, Noe kept a firm grip on your hips, helping to pull you down further onto his cock every time you lifted off again.

The glowing illumination of the midnight moon drenched your silhouette as you rode him, Noe admiring the way the light shone on your dewy skin, pretty tits bouncing as you began to pick up speed, your head thrown back, neck exposed and mouth hanging open with silent ecstasy as you approached closer and closer to the edge.

Noe was close too, beginning to buck his hips up into you to match your rhythm towards the end, still so strong even when he wasn’t trying that hard, making your toes curl as you twisted the bed sheets tight in your fists, hunching over him as your trembling legs felt like they were about to give out, thighs burning from the exertion and sweat gathering in the crooks of your folded knees, a new, high-pitched moan tumbling from your throat with each thrust.

And, god, when you both came at the same time, you swore you saw spots of heaven blinking in your vision, falling forward to drape yourself over him completely, squeezing every last drop from him as his cock spurt thick ropes of cum inside of you, enough to ooze out of your abused little hole and drip in thick, creamy dollops back onto him where you two remained connected until Noe mustered up enough strength to take your limp form in his arms and carefully sit up just enough to pull out of you, keeping you cradled against his warm chest until you actually did doze off.

Gently setting you aside, pulling a sheet across your naked body to shield you from the chill while he went to fetch a damp, warm washcloth to clean you up with, Noe was haunted by the fact that, for as many times as you two had been together before, it had never been quite as good as that.

Haunted, only for the fact that it had still been a dangerous risk to take. Yet still, a risk he had a feeling he’d be unable to talk you out of taking again.

He noted the various bruises speckled about your body as he cleaned you, dark blotches in the shape of his fingertips where they’d dug into your hips, more scattered across your thighs, your wrists, around the bites on both sides of your shoulders and along your neck where he’d branded you with hickies he hadn’t even remembered deciding to mark you with.

After leaving to fix himself up and returning again, Noe checked your pulse, two fingers pressed softly to the side of your neck, just to make sure his worst fear hadn’t come to pass. He flinched minutely when your little hand reached up to cup his, a sated smile spread across your lips, eyes still closed as you muttered out, “See… told you I’d be ok…”

Noe’s grin was a little more incredulous than anything, but as he gently stroked the side of your head, smoothing back some strands of tousled hair from your sweet face he adored gazing upon so much, he was just glad that you were alright this time around.

Curling up beside you, pressing a chaste peck to your forehead, Noe told you he loved you through a tired, dreamy sigh. Only then did you open your eyes, pupils dilated to swallow the color of your irises in the dark, and whispered back to him, like a promise, like a prayer, “I love you too…” After that, all you could remember was the darkness of encroaching unconsciousness and the familiar, comforting heat of his body entangled with yours, asleep and safe in each other’s arms at the end of another unforgettable night.

***

(Hello and thank you so much for reading! I really can’t believe it’s already been two years since I made this blog and started writing/posting fanfiction. Time really flies huh?

Anway, I’d like to take this time to give a big thank you to everyone who follows me, reads my work, and takes the time to leave likes or nice comments. It really makes my day :)

I look forward to being able to share the fics I have in the works going forward with you all. Hope you have a wonderful day and remember to be kind to yourself <3)

#noe archiviste #noe archiviste x reader #noe archiviste x you #noe archiviste x y/n #the case study of vanitas x y/n #the case study of vanitas fanfiction #the case study of vanitas x reader #the case study of vanitas #the case study of vanitas x you #vanitas no carte fanfiction #vanitas no carte x you #vanitas no carte x y/n #vanitas no carte x reader #vanitas no carte #noe archiviste smut #the case study of vanitas smut #noe archiviste fanfic #noe archiviste fanfiction

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owl-bones · 5 months ago

Note

How is the fae marriage ritual? The proposal is similar to the one most humans are used to? How is the actual ceremony like?

Asking for science, of course.

thank you for this question i am a hopeless romantic and i love this kind of stuff

a proposal for fae is very special! they're functionally immortal (aside from injury or illness) so it's a big deal to decide you want to spend eternity with someone. it's generally something that's discussed before hand, to make sure they're all on the same page, but once it's on the table then it's up to them when they want to propose officially.

a fae proposal and marriage are kind of the same because of how the proposal works, but there is a separate party. the proposal is usually very private, and just with the fae involved. it involves a symbolic deal-- "Will you trade your forever with mine?" there's no rings or anything like that involved, since it's just the act of asking if they want to be together forever, and then accepting the deal. fae can wear jewellery or other adornments to show that they're married, of course-- necklaces, diadems, earrings, wing cuffs, ribbons braided a certain way in their hair, there's all sorts. it's up to the couple and their cultures how and whether they want that on display.

the party (optional, not every fae couple/poly want to throw a party) is days-long and grand. fae love to celebrate, and there will be feasts and dancing and lots of games. it's a celebration of love, and fae consider love to be an expression of truth.

there are platonic and queer-platonic proposals, also! exchanging forevers doesn't have to be inherently romantic-- and fae will celebrate the same either way

#valrayne-faeu

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holy-puckslibrary · 10 months ago

Text

━ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠.

main masterlist

pairing(s) — TREVOR ZEGRAS x f!reader (established); JAMIE DRYSDALE x reader; MASON MCTAVISH x reader; trevor x jamie x mason wc — 2.2k synopsis — what better gift on your friends to bestow than the gift that keeps on giving?

note — happy valentine's day, my lovelies!! as my gift to you, i've decided to release whatever the hell this is from the archive <3 i randomly dropped this on patreon post-ficmas '24 because, per usual, i was possessed by the ghost of perpetual horniness! we know it'll happen again, so just know i am totally down to write a follow-up if there's any interest teehee! oh, and to the anons who requested some jd + tz content after the trade (rip), i hope this satisfies the craving!! (and you don't mind masey being thrown in the mix)

and with that... i’ll see myself out 🚶‍♀️

specific content warnings under the cut.

cw — everyone’s a lil bi because why not, trevor is boyfriend of the year, mason and jamie bickering over whose turn it is to munch, tz + reader are switchy and mason + jamie are bratty and subby, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), accidental edging, trevor being a cocky menace and stirring the pot, and a wee bit of a cliff-hanger bc i'm incapable of controlling myself :-) oh, and the current pet name fixation of the week! + trevor calling himself daddy (once) while being condescending to all parties lolz

“—stop getting in my way.”

"or what?"

silence.

then, an exasperated groan.

“i wouldn’t need to be in the way if you were doing it right.”

the long, drawn-out sigh you hear sounds far away, like an echo from somewhere out in the distance, but you know it's coming from behind you—directly behind you.

your boyfriend abandons the soft curves of your chest, which you vehemently protest with a petulant mewl, to massage the tension building between his eyes; if he’d known this would turn into such a headache, he never would’ve suggested this.

“clock’s running, boys. if you wanna waste your very limited time between my girl’s pretty legs bickering with each other, be my guest.”

jamie and mason exchange a glare, united in their distaste for their friend’s tone and attitude in spite of their sudden animosity toward one another.

a pretty girl could do that to a friend group.

only, you haven’t come between the trio in the way one might assume. you might’ve been the catalyst in jamie and mason’s current strife, sure, but that's where your meddling begins and ends. no, you’ve come between them in more of a physical sense, at the behest of your boyfriend and their best friend.

trevor zegras veered toward possessive—territorial, even—most days, but, tonight, he’s feeling strangely generous. it is the season of giving, after all. however, his kindness hardly felt like a gift anymore. the gesture lost its luster soon after the silky ribbon was untied and discarded... and the bitching began. charity work would be a more apt descriptor, in his humble opinion.

he’s expecting an edible arrangement from the ladies of orange county in the near future.

but if anyone deserves some compensation, it's most definitely you, and trevor has just the shiny something in mind. what was originally intended to be the crown jewel of your holiday gifts will now function as a “thank you letting my friends use you as a practice dummy” token of appreciation.

“guess we also need to teach you to share,” you huff, exhausted from the accidental edging and frustrated by trevor's shifted attention.

the worst part is that you don’t think they’re perceptive enough (or have enough experience with a woman’s body, even) to see the agony, the by-product of their inadvertent torture, smeared plainly across your dazed and dewy face. your boyfriend's best friends have unintentionally dragged you to the brink of insanity, and you're reluctantly hanging on by a fragile thread.

said boyfriend's lips caress your temple. “can’t say i blame them. with you freshly unwrapped—just out of the box—and all... i wouldn't know how to share you, either.”

eager is a nice way of putting the boys' behavior thus far, but selfish is a more befitting adjective for their uncoordinated fervor.

two interesting things to note since you were spread wide—presented—to your boyfriend’s closest friends and collegues. the first being that while jamie is enthralled by the way you clench around his lithe fingers, mason favors his mouth; and second, trevor’s harder than a rock from showering his friends with the same domineering aura usually reserved for you in the privacy of your shared bedroom.

(or, the backseat of his car. the abandoned lifeguard tower beside the pier and, on occasion, the recently refurbished dressing room.)

mason also enjoys spitting on your sensitive bits more than he’s comfortable with, the apprehension bright in his eyes. but, watching the run-off of his saliva and your syrupy arousal drip onto jamie’s fingers before both are shoved into your heat is too distracting to pay any mind to the internal chaos of unearthing a new and unforeseen kink.

what jamie lacks in skill and experience, he makes up for in enthusiasm. for all his bashfulness, jamie drysdale is not shy about finger-fucking.

momentarily sat on his haunches, mason watches with feverish intent as his friend curls your toes with the simple curl of his marriage and middle, his pinky and pointer fingers splayed wide to keep his eye on the prize, sight unimpeded by plush, silky distractions.

no bells and whistles, just diligence.

soon, watching ceases to satiate the burly man and mason slips his own thumb into the mix. with his lips or his tongue—or his fingers, it now seems—mason mctavish is obsessed with your clit.

trevor shoots him a knowing wink; that's his favorite part, too. never do you make prettier sounds than when you’re having that special, highly-responsive bundle tended to. fingers, tongue, trevor's thigh... it doesn't matter, you fall apart all the same.

mason nudges jamie to one side and, much to your surprise, he goes without a fight this time, still stroking you closer and closer to the summit.

with his greater access, mason leans down. his nose splits duties with his thumb as he places wet, open-mouth kisses on your inner thighs, mons pubis, and, finally, the coveted pearl throbbing for affection. his mouth wraps around the little bud before pausing. he looks up for approval.

from trevor.

with the dip of his chin and a peck to your balmy cheek, your boyfriend encourages his best friend to suck on his girlfriend's clit.

mason needs no further coaxing. he alternates between suction and kitten-licks; his tongue was beginning to feel left out. all the while, jamie’s devoted fingers keep you pleasantly teetering on the end.

it's amazing the difference time and a little scolding can make.

“i think you’re enjoying this a little too much, bunny.”

“—m’sorry,” you whimper.

his warm, familiar chuckle fills your ear as he strokes your cheek. “i’m only teasing. you know how much i love watching you get all worked up. and, this way, i get to sit back and enjoy the view while they do all the dirty work.”

your eyes roll back, and his amusement grows louder.

“maybe, we’ll do this again? i wonder how fast they could get you off when they already know how the tricks.”

a raw, guttural sound claws past your lips.

trevor growls into your neck between love-bites. “you’d like that, wouldn’t you, greedy girl? is my mouth not enough for you—y’need my friends’ too? such a slutty little bunny i have..."

"no—only want y-you."

it comes out in a few, demure hiccups, the clarity of your protest impeded by those and the frantic shaking of your head.

your boyfriend can't help but twist your mind when you're like this, too weak and preoccupied by pleasure to give him any lip. his brat's gone sweet, fully subdued. and now he can have a little fun.

“—i know, i know. no need to get all worked up over nothing, silly girl. but it wouldn't matter much if you did, though, right?" the hand cradling your chin moves your head in agreement; he knows you're too far gone—too fucked out, to function. "no, it wouldn't because daddy doesn't share his toys. he needs you all to himself."

in this moment, you aren't sure if trevor loves or loathes you.

“lost your voice, bunny? you’re strangely quiet for a slut i know is close. i can hear it, and i know you can too. we all know you're fucking soaked. go on, don't be shy. i think their good behavior has earned them some praise, hm? doin' so good at following my directions—almost as obedient as you are, pretty thing. be sweet, then you can cum all you want."

his words, coupled with the overstimulation between your bent and parted knees, send your brain down a cloudy, all-consuming spiral. too overwhelmed by the boys kneeling at your altar, you can hardly string together cohesive thoughts, let alone speak adequate praise for their efforts.

...as if trevor expected anything out of your mouth other than garbled, pathetic mumbling anyway.

not to mention, jamie found the spot that makes you see stars on the ceiling as his best friend was busy whispering filth into your ear, and he's been bullying it with his deft fingers—three of them now, buried down to the knuckle. he gives it a short, purposeful rub just to show off his treasure.

you shriek and buck your hips into mason's waiting mouth. as his head dips back down to nestle against you, the angle of jamie's fingers changes and your vision blurs just a tad.

trevor's amusement thunders in your ears as he keeps you from shying away from the new sensation, an arm looped around your waist keeping you tight to his bare chest. and good thing, too, seeing as mason's tongue slips in between jamie's fingers not a second later.

they're right and truly pleasuring you now, and you can't wait a second more.

you surrender.

and, as promised, you show them what real moans sound like from a woman—not that fake shit they subject you and trevor to through the walls on a semi-regular basis.

the sounds of you ripping at the seams spur them on, and it's starting to get difficult to discern who's to blame for the puddle beneath you. this are sloppier and more obscene than ever, and you're loving every single second of it, you almost feel like this is your gift and not theirs.

—which is why you nearly write it off as a trick of a pleasure-drunk mind.

you feel it against your sopping, swollen folds before they notice it themselves; in electing to run their tongues up and down the same path at the same time, their mouths mingled along the way—and continue to do so. the delicious, foreign sensation of their mouths tangled in a clandestine dance buys your silence. and easily.

sooner or later, they’d realize and your fun would mostly likely cease—they've never given any indication of feeling either way—and you weren’t about to speed the process along, especially not when you have the pearly gates in sight.

trevor's won't call attention to it either because he's enjoying it as much as you are. maybe more. he's twitching like crazy against the small of your back, and each time jamie and mason convene between your knees, his hips shamelessly rut into you softness like a feral dog.

he nudges you, warm lips against your cheek. "look."

giving your head a downward tilt, his firm hand directs your attention to the object of his—your boyfriend isn't the only one seeking respite by way of aimless grinding.

mason and jamie have their hips flush to your bed, their burning, sweat-stained cheeks glued to your inner thighs, one slightly scratchier than the other—the best of both worlds. their eyes are nearly black with lust. their frantic movements are more pleasure-seeking than precise, driving into the wrinkled sheets with just one thing in mind.

you've never seen anything quite like it before, and your body reacts in kind.

naturally, trevor sees the signs before anyone. he knows your body best, something he takes great pride in. you'd wager he knows more about what makes you tick than even you do. he's put in enough hours, that's for sure.

trevor doesn't bother disgusting the desire weighing on his voice, "beg."

your lips part as if on cue. your boyfriend (selfishly) indulges your pitiful little whines and repetitive pleas—he'll never pass up an opportunity to rub his handiwork in envious faces—but, eventually, he cuts you off before you get too far into the bit.

"—not you, silly bunny. them."

aghast, mason rips his mouth away and you whine at the sudden loss. jamie strokes your walls sympathetically.

"you're joking."

"does it sound like i'm joking, mctavish? you're lucky i'm even letting you see her like this, let alone touch what's mine, and it's a fucking privilege to watch her cum. convince me that you've earned it."

you weren't expecting to find it so erotic, the power trevor wields over them. you're no stranger to his persuasive prowess; his commands alone were enough to get you off some nights. but this is different, and markedly so.

watching him command his best friends—his friends, reducing them to docile creatures eager to eat from the palm of his hand with words alone, is what tips you over the edge.

their persistent chorus of compliance is swallowed entirely by your wanton cunt, but that was by design.

trevor always knows what you need.

when the dam in your abdomen fractures alongside your voice, he holds your wrists tight to his bare thighs, preventing you from grounding yourself in either of his friends' messy mops or finding purchase anywhere on his body. he can't have you distracted. he needs you to enjoy every second of it. your full, undivided attention must be on the pampering you're receiving, and the tender care with which his friends provide it.

it's okay if you're too weak—of mind, body or both—to make that happen for yourself. your boyfriend is more than willing to pin you down as you ride out your first high of the night. happy to, really.

on the come down, jamie rubs light, lazy circles over your sore, swollen clit almost apologetically. mason laps up your release because it'd be a crime to waste a drop—trevor made that abundantly clear earlier in the night. once he's drunk you dry, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

"i think i could, um, use a bit more practice?" he announces bashfully—as if he didn't just make you squirt into his mouth.

jamie perks up at his side, fingers and lips still shiny. he's savoring the fruit of their labors like a precious delicacy, knowing it could be the last time he gets a taste. dark lashes shy and fluttering, his puppy-dog eyes blink up at you. "me too."

a wicked smirk forms on trevor's face; they see it, you hear it.

"gentlemen, how's your stroke game?"

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