#let me be greedy and self indulgent for a moment

[canisalbus]

what part of italy are machete and vasco from? not their birthplace since from what i've seen you're still workshopping that. where do they live? i assume rome?

In the 1500's setting Vasco lives and was born in Florence, his family has lived there for centuries. Machete was born in Sicily, was taken to Naples to serve as an apprentice and ended up living and working in Rome (and more specifically today's Vatican city, which as you may know has been an independent country since 1929 but wasn't back then). They first met when they were both studying in Venice in their late teens/early twenties.

I think in the modern au they live together somewhere in Florence.

[nightmare-niko]

Blame It On The Rain [Nicholas Alexander Chavez x reader]

Word count: 855

Warnings: oral (m! receiving), rough sex, shower sex, once again completely self-indulgent

A/N: the obsession is going strong hehehe

Copying or translating my writing is not allowed. If you see my work on another site it is stolen. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged.

Your boyfriend lay on your bed, scrolling away on his phone. Such a simple task, but he looks so damn good. You lean against the door frame, shamelessly watching your unsuspecting lover.

"Hey, Nick?" You call out innocently.

"Yes, baby?" He looks up from his phone.

"I'm gonna shower."

He looks at you, confused, “oookay..?”

"Join me.”

The corners of his mouth curled up into a mischievous smile, "you askin or tellin?"

You roll your eyes, “Meet me in the bathroom in two minutes!” you turn on your heels and head towards your bathroom.

”Or what?" He shouts, still in your room.

"Or you're not getting head for a month!" You close the bathroom door behind you.

You hastily drop your pants and turn on the warm shower water. You hear Nicholas fumbling around in your bedroom. and you're not surprised when he practically through the door.

"That was like twenty seconds dude,” You feign disappointment.

Nicholas just shrugs, taking off his shirt in one movement.

"The waters not even warm yet!"

"Don't care!" He pulls you in for a rough kiss, tongues fighting for dominance— not like you'd ever win.

You waste no time untying his sweatpants and pulling them down haphazardly. You go to pull down his underwear but are met with bare skin. You pause and pull away, you giggle as he chases your lips for more, “No underwear? what a slut!" You tease.

"Says the one who lured me in here just to fuck me,” he accuses.

You gasp and wrap your nimble fingers around his half-hard cock. "I didn't call you in here just fuck you!" You defend, running your thumb over his slit— he hisses.

”Why am I here then?” His voice is strained.

You hum, pretending to think deeply about his question. letting go of him you take a step back. He whines at the loss of contact, eyes trained on you as you remove your shirt and underwear.

Now, just as bare as him you step into the water stream. you sigh in delight as the waterfalls around you.

Nicholas steps in behind you, “Baby this water is boiling!”

You chuckle and turn around to change the water temperature for him. With for back facing him he wastes no time landing a loud “thwack” on your bare ass.

“Ow!! Nick what the hell!”

“I'm sorry I couldn't help myself!!”

“I'll remember that,” you warn as you pull him closer to you by his waist. “You're so hot,” you playfully bite his chest.

“So are you~” he runs his fingers into your hair and tugs your face up towards him, capturing you in another breathtaking kiss.

His now fully hard cock pressed in between your torsos. Backing up, he pulls you with him until his back meets the shower wall. You recapture his lips in a searing kiss, your greedy hands roaming and feeling his toned body.

You part briefly for air, the both of you breathing heavily. Nicholas’ eyes are deep with desire as he trails kisses along your jaw down to your neck. A soft moan escapes your lips.

As much as you wanted to lose yourself in the feeling of your boyfriend— you had brought him here for a reason. “Let me take care of you,” you offer— pulling back from his grasp.

He looks at you for a moment— pupils blown out in his eager eyes.

He moans pathetically when you finally sink to your knees. “Use me,” you mutter.

“W-what?”

“I want you,” you wrap your hands around the base of his shaft. “To use me,” you kiss up the sides until you reach the tip.

‘A-Are you sure?? I don't want to hurt you!”

“Nicholas,” you state flatly. “I want you to fuck my face. Now.”

He growls, gripping your hair tightly. This is what you've been waiting for!

“Tongue. out,” he demands, you stick out your tongue obediently.

He slaps his red leaking tip on it with his free hand before he presses you all the way down his shaft. He throws his head back and it thumps against the wall behind him as a moan rips through him.

“fuck—” he curses, as he begins his steady rhythm fucking into your mouth.

You run your manicured nails along his toned thighs, leaving red scratches in their wake.

You can feel his cock twitch deep in your throat.

You look up at him through your eyelashes— you moan at his fucked out state. The vibration sends him over the edge as he pulls out of your mouth. The string of saliva connecting your tongue and his tip is downright pornographic. Hot ropes of white cum fall on your face and tongue as your boyfriend shouts obscenities from above you.

You rise from your position on the bathtub floor. You reach up and pull Nicholas down for one final kiss— He whines as he tastes himself on your lips.

You pull away, dopey grin on both of your faces. “See now— that. Is why I called you here.”

Tag list (If you want to be added just comment!)

@Nallasstuff @chmpgneprblem @qoopeeya @lilybellalana @sleepysongbirdsings

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

I don't think you understand

The mer price fic is absolute perfection.

Like I'm talking a literal masterpiece

This fic will stay engraved in my brain forever. You're an absolutely amazing writer. Thank you ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

anon, THANK you. i am actually thrilled to see other people enjoying mer Price and remora reader as much as i do. please please please let me brain dump more about Price taking remora reader back to his home reef to meet the rest of shark mer 141:

SOAP is enamored instantly because you're so fucking grabbable.

within moments of seeing you peek out from behind Price's tail, he darts around and snatches you up with greedy hands. you're so small!! so tiny and cute when you squirm. and you make noises. 

he handles you like a toy until Price barks at him to cut it out. he does (and Price makes him promise not to be so rough with you; you're fragile, he claims) but Soap is incorrigible.

he follows you for days afterward. just obsessed. he loves chasing your silver tail as you dart around the reef, trying to hide from him. when he catches up to you, you have little choice but to give in and let him manhandle you. he certainly toes the line of whatever Price meant when he said no rough play, you little shit, i mean it.

he pushes the limits of your docile nature. when you do eventually reach the end of your patience and dart out of his hands just to get a break from his grabby claws, guess what? you've triggered his prey drive and he gives chase. he catches you, of course, and then before he can stop himself, he bites you.

your squeal brings Price out into the open instantly and Soap gets an earful again. he grins at you the whole time as you hide over Price's shoulder.

after that, Soap gets a little craftier about it. he eases up just enough to figure out exactly how playful (rough) he can be before you can't take any more. he learns how to stop just shy of making you shriek again. Price is aware, but he's a little too indulgent to stop it. he's happy to let Soap have his fun as long as he doesn't break you. you just have to suck it up. that indulgent nature is how you ended up with Price in the first place, after all.

goes without saying, but Soap is the first one to use you as a sex toy.

GHOST seems to take zero interest in you at first. you're not the sharpest urchin in the tide pool, are you? you can't be if you're here willingly. he figures you won't stick around long, and if you do, you won't stay intact.

you attempt to take up grooming his skin and tail and teeth as you do with the others. he moves away from you without a word, lashing his scarred tail to re-settle himself several feet away.

if you follow and try to groom him again, you earn a deep growl.

you dart off the moment he voices that rumbling displeasure. he notes your skittishness around him and uses it to make you leave him alone.

you, however, have a job to do. you won't be scared off that easily.

after he chases you off that way a few times, you begin to find him and simply sit near him. mirroring him. no big deal. instead of grooming him, you use the time to groom yourself. can't keep everyone else clean if you're grimy, after all.

he notices you and growls to warn you off again. you pretend not to hear.

he flicks his tail in irritation, considers cuffing you over the head to teach you a lesson, but you're too far away to reach without kicking his whole big self up into the water to move several feet. so he elects instead to turn over and ignore you. you keep this up for several days. you sit a little closer every time.

one day, you finish cleaning your own tail fin and casually begin to clean his. he growls. you pause. when he stops and does nothing further, you resume your work. he growls again, and you continue grooming him as if you don't hear him. he keeps growling, but once you begin to run your claws over a stubborn patch of skin to dislodge some stuck grit that's been bothering him, his growling fades into grumbling. and then silence. he lets you keep at it. victory.

this becomes a habit. you seek him out (never the other way around) and typically find him lazing on the floor of some cave or sunning in the reef's shallows. you set to work grooming him thoroughly. all business. he grumbles and growls occasionally when you move his arm or tug your fingers through his hair, but he never stops you.

one day, Soap comes looking for you and finds you in the middle of this little cleaning ritual. Soap nudges you away, insisting you instead let him chase you around the reef. but the moment your hands leave Ghost's rough skin and he hears you protest, he opens his eyes and snaps his teeth at Soap.

Soap pulls back (and so do you) until Ghost grasps your lil wrist and drags you back down wordlessly to where you were sitting and cleaning his shoulder.

Soap smirks at him. Ghost glares back.

"you got something to say, then say it."

"here i thought you were toleratin' it for her sake. seems i misjudged the situation."

"there is no situation."

"whatever you say."

Soap leaves with a flick of his tail. you're so pleased that, when you're finished grooming Ghost, you burrow yourself between his arms as he lays on his side. you nuzzle into his neck and bunt your head up against him, practically purring now that you know you've apparently won him over.

he grabs you, pretending to be disgruntled, but then instead of releasing you he crushes you against his chest again and settles in for a nap. no, you don't get to leave.

GAZ wonders what exactly is going on inside your head. it doesn't escape his notice that your """instincts""" seem to have you by the throat in this situation. but he suspects you're leaning a bit more into that whole brainless servant thing than you're letting on.

he's perfectly happy to let you groom him, flatter him, fetch him whatever baubles or snacks he'd like at the moment; he's perfectly polite to you, too. really likes it when you butter him up. tell him he's got the sharpest teeth and the strongest muscles and the fastest tail in the reef and he'll listen to you for hours, preening in the sunlight as you clean the grime off his fins.

plus, he praises you too, and you love that. that's why it takes you so long to notice he's watching you much more closely than anyone else is.

see, you've already disarmed Price. Soap sees you as a toy more than a fellow mer. Ghost cares more about finding the best places to lurk around than understanding the little mer that shares their reef now. it's fascinating--how you've successfully passed yourself off as a silly, stupid little fish. the more he watches you, analyzes you, the more he wonders what exactly you're getting out of this.

when you groom him each day, he asks you questions. casual ones. are you enjoying the reef? what games do you like to play? how fast can you swim? how many other mer have you met? are you eating enough? what's your favorite food?

it's enough to make you wary, but then, he seems harmless. you're honest with him. it pays off, because when you tell him how much you like the taste of those little brown seabirds that dip into the reef from time to time, you're shocked the next day to find one of those very seabirds sitting dead--neck cleanly snapped--just for you in the shallow alcove next to where Price sleeps (and you by extension).

you find Gaz that instant and insist it's too kind a gift; you can't accept it. what you can't tell him is that it's not a good idea for you to eat in front of them. you eat scraps, and you eat them where of them can see. that's the deal--obviously you do what you do for these four sharks in exchange for protection and ostensibly for food, but you need to avoid looking like you're taking more than your fair share. and to sharks, a species that is notoriously food-aggressive, your fair share must be vanishingly small.

he just smiles at you--so disarmingly that you flounder for a moment. somehow he convinces you to keep the kill.

he begins to turn up--looking amused but not surprised--when you steal scraps of food after the group has had its fill of a fresh kill. it makes you nervous for him to see you with food in hand (much less to watch you eat) but he scoffs at the idea of holding it against you. 

at some point, he begins to bring you fresh meat himself. this is-- it's unacceptable. you're supposed to be the one working while he rests. he's not allowed to give you that kind of comfort. if you're not earning your keep, after all, you don't have a place here. you push his gifts away, busying yourself with some other task. he insists. you decline.

"you're refusing me?" he asks, feigning surprise. "i thought that went against your instincts."

you fluster, ruffling up in what he assumes is a pout. he's trapped you in a catch-22. ultimately, you have to accept the stupid meat-gift because it's what he wants. you find this makes you more irritable than it should. he smirks at you, which serves to irritate you more.

he pulls you into his lap as you eat. and he thinks it's so cute the way you scowl the whole time.

from then on, whenever you act a little too stupid for his liking, he pries and pokes and prods until he draws out that other, haughtier side of you. he has a knack for frustrating you. he loves to sass you, and when you finally drop the act and sass him back, he falls a little bit more in love with you every time.

...

more mer au / masterlist tag

[luveline]

also if you’re still taking requests for some established relationship criminal minds fics…

could i possibly get spencer and his bombshell when she’s having issues with not getting as hungry as she usually does? like she eats her fill but her fill is less food than she normally eats? this is very self indulgent so feel free to skip 🙏

thank you for requesting <3 bombshell, fem

“Spencer, lovely?” 

Spencer believes that only occasionally do you use your powers of seduction against him. This stringing of words, Spencer, his name, rolling off of your tongue, and lovely, so quaint and said so nicely, how you’ve called out, that’s unintentional. That’s pure niceness. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, getting up to find you. 

The point of you staying at Spencer’s apartment is to see you, why isn’t he seeing you? (Dramatic. He invites you to spend time here because you want to and he wants you, and whatever you do while you’re here is fine by him.) 

You’re in the kitchen peeling fruits. A whole fruit salad, green and red apples cut in small slices like prep for an apple-sugar crumble, peeled tangerine, strawberries, pear, grapes. “Nothing is wrong,” you sing-song. “Wait, why do you think that?” 

“No reason.” He sweeps as much of your mountain of peels and off cuts into his hand as he can and carries it to his mini compost bin. This’ll take some time. “You did call me, though?” 

“Yeah, I want your opinion.” You slice through another strawberry.

Spencer cleans the last of the peels away, rinses his hands, and creeps up on you. “Why are you drawing this out? Is it an important question? Don’t be nervous,” he says, wrapping his arms around you from behind. Your shoulder is soft where he presses his nose. 

“It’s not important, I just wanna know if you think it’s okay to melt some chocolate and drizzle it over the fruit. Is that greedy? Am I gonna go into a sugar overload?” 

“That’s not greedy.” Spencer laughs softly, kissing your cheek. 

You pull away from him, but only to look at him with your own smile. It’s one he’s starting to know rather well, the I love you smile, fond and indulgent at once. It makes you look like you’re gonna pinch his cheeks. 

“You’re hungry, right?” you ask. 

“Yeah, I am.” It’s a lot of fruit. Spencer doesn’t know exactly why he says it at that very moment, but he suggests, “How about we make a little pot for fondue instead. That way if we don’t eat it all now we can put the fruit back in the fridge.” 

“You just want me to feed you,” you tease. 

Spencer hadn’t thought about it, but the image is a pleasant one. “Fondue was invented purely for dessert purposes at first, no seduction involved.” 

“Let’s involve it anyway.” 

He grins. “Before or after we eat?” he asks lightly. 

You tell him before in a way that reminds him that you aren’t just his best friend but his twin flame, drawing him close to you, your hands fragrant with orange rind and the sweet strawberry juice staining your fingertips. You take his face into your hands as he holds your waist, and when you kiss him, he smiles the entire time. 

“It wasn’t just chocolate,” he says, pulling away. “It was cream and cherry liquor, too.” 

“We should try it one day.” 

Spencer resists the urge to grab your face and squeeze your cheeks. “Yeah, we will.” 

He melts some chocolate and heats a small round dish in the oven. He pours the chocolate into the dish and you, impressed, sing his praises as you make some lemonade slush in the blender. It’s a fresh, cold snack for a warmer day. You take it in the living room with the window wide open and the drapes drawn back, sunshine at your feet. 

Spencer pulls you into his lap as much as you’ll allow him on the couch, the coffee table dragged to be in front of you, the TV remote held hostage under your arm. You dip a slice of apple into chocolate and offer it to him.

Spencer accepts it. He finds, as the bowl empties, the chocolate cools, that you don’t seem to eat very much. He slows his grazing in case he’s being greedy, but after what could only be a handful of fruit you’re done, curling into his side and hugging his leg. Your attention is on the TV but your legs wiggle restlessly.

“Is something on your mind?” he asks. 

“I don’t feel very hungry.” 

“That’s okay. It was a lot of fruit, angel, we can wrap it up.” 

“I feel like my appetite is awful lately,” you lament, sitting up to tip back across his lap, your shoulders to his thighs, looking up at him with a frown. “Do I look like I’ve lost weight to you?” 

Spencer holds your cheek. “I haven’t noticed anything, are you worried?” he asks, rubbing the softest part of your cheek with his thumb. 

“I guess it’s not a bad thing?” You wince. 

“It’s not a bad thing if you don’t feel hungry, but you need to eat. Maybe we can just switch to some dense food for a while. Protein bars and nuts, stuff like that.” Spencer leans down to tap your noses together. You laugh under your breath. “Do you want to lose weight?” he asks, frowning. 

“Not really. I’d prefer not to.” 

“Okay, good. You’re perfect like this,” he says. “We can just make sure you get your intake through whatever means necessary until we figure out what’s changed. Maybe you’re just changing. We can start having smaller meals throughout the day. It’s better for digestion.” 

You reach for a curl, twisting it around your fingers. “I have an appetite for you, at least.” 

“That’s corny,” he says. 

“You love it, though.” 

Spencer pushes the ‘diminishing appetite’ search results from his head. He can worry later, when you’ve been well and thoroughly kissed. 

[masuchu]

“𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒” [GENSHIN MEN]

ways that the genshin men fuck you on your period ‧₊˚

genre. filthy smut, period sex, mentions of blood (obv), mentions of overstim (childe), cunnilingus (childe), mentions of punishment sort of, body worship (kaveh), sort of brat taming ?? (wriothesley) reader is femaleeeee

characters. childe, zhongli, kaveh, wriothesley

love, masu. aaaaaa i am on my period rn so this is so so self indulgent . it is also filthy . felt very very shameful writing this . (◞‸◟) neuvillette was also supposed to be in this but i have bigger plans for him …

(公子) 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄 ‧₊˚

We all know Childe is a menace on the battlefield. Obsessed with combat, addicted to duelling. Can not form friendships without fighting the person first. Needless to say, his bloodlust is perpetual and never ending.

You never really expected it to traverse into the bedroom, though.

Childe looks feral. His eyes are wide and hungry, unfocused and utterly hypnotised by your pussy. He presses a thumb into your clit, ignoring your cries and pleads of sensitivity, and watches as a large glob of blood ooze out of you.

“Ajax, please. M’ sensitive, it hurts…Agh!”

He completely ignores you. After a moment of intense staring, his mouth is back on your throbbing pussy, slurping both your juices and your blood. It is filthy, completely taboo. So why do you like it so much? Why are your thighs clamping down onto his head, as though you wanted to squeeze him into nothing? Why are your moans echoing and rattling the room, surprising even yourself with the depth and pitch of them?

You are broken out of your daydreams by a malevolent bite on your clit. A compressing pain spikes across your body, yet with it comes such an addicting pleasure that your pleads become garbled and unintelligible.

“Ajax, please! Too much, please, please, p—please!”

“What are you begging for, pretty girl? You get what you’re given. Now, fancy shutting your pretty mouth before I shut it for you? Feel free to stop wriggling too!”

You can tell that the pause he took from devouring you angered him immensely, and though his words were spoken as if he was asking nicely, you know him.

You know him well enough to know he would not hesitate to ruin you if you didn’t listen.

“God, your blood is so pretty. Would never hurt you, so let me have this, yeah? Makes me so fucking horny, you don’t understand.”

And with that he is back to devouring you. Your wide eyes peer down and find that he is in fact, not looking at you. No, his attention is entirely on his meal. Blood is smeared all over his face, making him look so horribly sexy. It pains you to admit it. His pupils are dilated, you only just now notice his nails digging into your hips. Keeping you anchored on the bed. Keeping you vulnerable for him.

You think— as best as you can in your state— on his words. Of course, the throb in your core and desperation to cum makes you biased, but you conclude that maybe you should let him have this. He is focused on you, so the worst you will deal with is a few more orgasms than necessary, right?

You know what they say, never make decisions while you’re horny!

(钟离) 𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈 ‧₊˚

Zhongli loves you unconditionally. His love neither wavers nor falters, no matter what challenges the two of you face together. May it morph and evolve? Of course, but it is firm and loyal to you. And only ever to you.

So what does he care that you are on your period? He is still hungry— greedy — for you, and no amount of blood will stop him from having your sweet pussy sheathed on his cock.

“Zhongli, you really don’t have too— Ngh..”

The man in question presses a thumb onto your lips, effectively quieting you and leaving you shy and flushing. Hips roll up into you once more, his length hitting exactly where you love it. His eyes burn into you, filled with infatuation and lust. How is it possible that those eyes are locked onto you, of all people? You don’t dare question it, an endless fear of jinxing it.

“Do not have to what? I do not have to love my partner? To pleasure them, hm? I would rather lose everything than never be able to have you like this again, my dear.”

Zhongli’s hips roll into you again at the most opportune time; damn tease, he knows how much his tender words get to you. Unable to do much but take his punctual thrusts as and when they come, you wrap you arms around his neck and nuzzle into his chest. His own palms find themselves gripping your waist, carefully lifting you up with ease and hauling you down again, slamming his cock into you at the same time. The feeling paralyses you, but the worry of your blood still lingers in your mind.

“Are you sure you don’t mind? My blood will get every—Oh!” It’s a vexatious thing he does often, silencing you. Divesting you of your ability to speak coherently, and enkindling your heart slowly and maliciously. You aren’t sure you have ever finished a sentence he hasn’t wanted to hear. Not in bed, at least.

“I have seen enough blood in my days. Though, I am admittedly much more pleased to see yours in this way, rather than another. Do not worry yourself, I want to ravish you always. A little bit of blood will not put me off.”

At this his hips resume at a much faster pace, splitting you open on himself with no care of your hoarse whimpers. With each frantic thrust, he breathes heavier and your body is bounced higher and faster. His hands are always there to guide you, dropping your aching body down onto him again, again, and again. You allow your moans to fall out of your mouth and reverberate throughout the room, not at all coherent enough to fathom the mountain of pleasure you are feeling, let alone the noises you are making. All your can think about is that delicious pressure building up inside of you, and the slam of his cock in and out.

Needless to say, new sheets were purchased the next morning. And it has been harder to doubt Zhongli’s love for all aspects of you ever since.

(卡维) 𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇 ‧₊˚

“Does this feel better? Tell me what you want, love, I’ll give it to you.”

Kaveh’s fingers ruthlessly plunge into you, hitting places you didn’t even know existed. He had instructed you a few moments ago to hold your thighs for him, to allow him easier access. It didn’t register that it meant not only you couldn’t hold back your obscene moans, but also that he could bury himself so deep into you that you could taste him.

“You’re so beautiful like this… I wish I could sketch you. Another time. Keep moaning for me, pretty.”

The blonde in question had felt horrible all day. When he saw you occasionally hobble out of your room, hands gripping your stomach in attempt to stop the pain, his frown sunk deeper into his face. He had brought you everything you asked: ice cream, water, medication, kisses, new towels. Every deed was appreciated, but he couldn’t help wanting to do more. To take the pain away like a lover should.

A fitting explanation for how you found yourself in missionary with Kaveh’s fingers ambushing your pussy like no tomorrow, hm?

The blond in question traces his free hand along your shuddering body— squeezing any plush skin there is to squeeze, caressing absolutely anywhere you will allow him. Eyebrows furrowed, eyes concentrated. His pays attention to every beauty mark, every curve, every detail.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful. Every part of you is provocative, you know. Can’t believe this body of yours was in such pain, it’s cruel!”

His delicate fingers thrust into you again, such pretty hands turning you into a mess. It’s a humorous juxtaposition, really. His effortless beauty, and you— a moaning heap, heaving and sniffling like a whore. He wouldn’t agree, you knew he wouldn’t.

Before you can even contemplate how dirty and blooded his fingers will be, let alone complain, his lips press into yours and strangles your cries in a passionate kiss. He is not usually a biter, but he nips your lower lip and watches in awe as it bounces back, swollen and jutted. He swears on the Seven that you will kill him one day. You’re too goddamn sexy!

“Had me running around all day, when all you needed was this? Don’t worry, I’m not complaining, baby. Would run—fuck, a million miles around Sumeru City if you asked me too.”

A second hand rubs at your clit. Your body has been pushed so far up the bed from his fingers, that when your back arches from the new sensation, your head slams into the headboard. Writhing, wriggling, screaming. Nothing frees you from him, from what he’s giving you. Both the fingers in you and on you continue their ministrations rapidly, and all at once, everything becomes nothing, and then too much. The taut string in you core snaps, and a flurry of arousal overcomes you entirely.

You ignore how Kaveh’s eyes widen, how he bites his lips and groans out a slow ‘Fuuuuck..’. You have no mind to worry about how you look right now, every bodily function betraying you as you lay lifelessly on the satin sheets. Mindlessly, your eyes attract like magnets to the beauty of a man still above you. Though, what you see immediately rekindles the flame of arousal in you.

Kaveh, his fingers in his own mouth. Sucking, slurping, devouring the lewd mixture of your blood and slick. It’s completely vulgar, almost foul. And yet you can’t help the way your mind goes crazy for the potential of having his dick inside you.

“Ngh, you taste so good on my fingers. Gotta make you do that again…”

“W—what did I do…?”

“You squirted, love.”

(莱欧斯利) 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘 ‧₊˚

Don’t get him wrong, Wriothesley feels extremely sympathetic for you. He can’t imagine having to undergo what is often excruciating pain, bleeding heavily and treacherous mood swings on the daily. Not to mention on top of his regular workload! It’s hell on earth, he’s sure of it, and he will do anything in his power to make life even a smidge easier for you.

But he can only withstand so much of your bratty behaviour. Only so many ‘Ugh, you’re so annoying!’s before he starts to tick. You are in pain, yes, but it isn’t his fault! You can only bully him for so long before it begins to get under his skin.

“Just needed something to fill you up, huh? Does it make it feel better, sweetheart? You’ve certainly lost your— ngh, spark now.”

Wriothesley slams into you so hard you body writhes, and the bed you were thrown upon only a couple of minutes ago seems to disappear beneath you. A floating sensation engulfs you, and you grip the sheets in a fear of loosing all ground. A chuckle leaves his lip and taunts you, but you can’t imagine snapping back before he is, yet again, pounding into you and plundering all ability to breathe.

“Where’s that brattiness gone now, hm? If it’s still there, be sure to let me know. I’d be happy to fuck it out of you. Fuck, my cock is covered in your blood…”

The sight of your ichor coating his length entirely spurs him on, if his borderline monstrous thrusts are anything to go by. An overwhelming nothing settles in your brain, absolutely nothing except him, him, him, and the pleasure he is blessing you. Your lewd moans echo throughout the room, intensifying when his fingers travel down to press mean circles onto your clit. A divine surge of arousal flows through your body, and all at once, an orgasm swallows you whole.

“Cum for me, that’s it. Good girl.”

Lifelessly, your body flops onto the bed, no longer able to sustain the position on your hands and knees. With a few more bone rattling thrusts, Wriothesley finally reaches his peak and fills you up with his thick cum. He rides out his high with short little grinds, before joining you in succumbing to the comfort of the bed. The pads of his fingertips traces patterns along your arm before travelling up to caress your face. It’s hard to talk with the helplessly lovestruck and spent daze your brain is under, and with your face pushed into the pillow, but you meekly moan out;

“M’ sorry for shouting at you, Wrio. Didn’t mean it, I promise.”

“It’s perfectly okay, missy. Wouldn’t have an excuse to feel how tight you at this time if you didn’t.”

You scoff into the bed and let out a muffled insult, something along the lines of “dirty scoundrel.” Wriothesley pinches your hip, but he isn’t angry. He just chuckles breathily. The silence is tender and soft, until:

“Fuck, will this blood stain my clothes?”

2024 © masuchu , do not repost, reword, plagiarise, take inspiration, translate or share my work anywhere!

[keigosdear]

minors dni. 18+. fem!reader, no physical descriptions. this is soft and sweet and very a bit self indulgent. it’s literally all aftercare and emotions.

divider by @/cafekitsune

aftercare with atsumu is always so top tier. he’s a huge teddy bear, first of all, so the post sex cuddles are guaranteed to be so sweet. you’re usually exhausted after you finish with him- he’s come to realize just how greedy he gets once he has you underneath him, and while seeing your droopy eyes and blissed out expression fills him with pride, the way you immediately curl into your pillow and reject his request to get you cleaned up in favour of sleep, allows the guilt to creep in and take hold of his semi-clear mind as well.

so he’ll treat you like absolute royalty. anything you want? you’ll get. usually it’s cuddles, sometimes it’s a bath with him, he really doesn’t mind one bit.

all of that being said, when tonight’s activities are over and done with and you immediately cling to him and bury your face in his chest, he gets right to work.

well- tries to.

smoothing a finger over your warm, damp cheek to help ground you a bit, accompanied by a sturdy arm around your waist, he allows himself fifteen more seconds to admire your form.

“baby,” he makes sure to speak softly, knowing you’re probably still a little out of it. “will ya let me get up?”

the whine of protest that leaves your lips is barely audible, but he hears it.

and as always, he’s giddy over the knowledge that he’s the only one who will ever be tuned into you enough to hear it.

“need to clean ya up, sweet girl.”

to no one’s surprise, especially not his, you bury your face impossibly closer to his chest and utter out a quiet but very stubborn “no.”

he sighs and gently drags his nails across your back in mindless patterns. you’re clingy tonight- more than usual. he thinks back to what brought you both to this moment, trying to figure out if he pushed you a bit further than he normally would.

he doesn’t recall anything out of the ordinary… that’d be impossible, actually. he was real sweet on you the whole time. he couldn’t help it, he had come home to you wearing his clothes. that’s a guaranteed way to get him feeling all soft and sentimental and fuzzy and concupiscent-

now that he thinks about it… atsumu wouldn’t put it past you to get shy about asking for what you really wanted and plan something to get him to initiate it. but he doesn’t dwell on it. now he has a hypothesis to test.

he gently pries your face away from his skin and tilts your chin up. “baby, can ya look at me for a second?”

you flit your eyes up to his and he smiles. they’re still a bit glossed over. “there she is… hi pretty girl.”

the way you immediately try to hide your bright smile warms his heart so much that he risks spontaneously combusting. “don’t hide, baby, let me see ya.”

you whine as he pulls your hands away and try to hold eye contact with him. “such pretty eyes,” he flirts.

“are ya feeling a bit clingy after all that?”

you nod a little and tighten your hold around him as if to emphasize your point. “mhm,”

he sighs and decides that indulging you a bit more is exactly what he wants to be doing right now, anyway. “just in a bit of a mood, hm?”

you grunt in confirmation.

“did ya get what ya needed?” atsumu strokes your waist, watching your face for any changes that imply he hasn’t satisfied you in any way.

you nod again, eyes a bit less muddled now that he’s talking with you. he moves his hand down to rub the thigh draped over his hip. “tell me next time, ‘kay? ya don’t need to be afraid to tell me you want it a certain way.”

your lip forms a pout and he kisses it immediately. “‘m sorry, ‘tsum.”

he shuffles down a bit so that he’s face to face with you and nuzzles his nose against yours. “don’t be sorry, gorgeous, ya have nothin’ to apologize for.”

you giggle as he moves on to pressing soft kisses across your face and neck. “I’m here because I love you and want to fulfil your every desire, got it? let me take care of ya sometimes.”

you bat at his shoulder and through your laughter you insist, “you do take care of me! you do, ‘tsum!”

he laughs with you. “yeah, but let me do it more.”

your expression falters a bit and he knows he’s made it to the root of the problem. “but it would be selfish of me to ask for more from you. won’t you… get tired of me?”

his own features soften at your words and the insecurity in your voice. “sweetheart, you could ask me for the whole world and I’d never think of ya as selfish, got it? in fact I want ya to be selfish with me.”

you blink. “really?”

he nods and squeezes your hip. “really. and I could never ever get tired of ya. you’re my baby. okay?”

you caress his jaw with your knuckles and sniffle a bit, holding back tears. “okay. i love you,”

he kisses you slowly, gently, lovingly. “I love ya too. now, do you want to keep cuddling or can I clean ya up?”

you bite your lip a bit and grind your hips into his, looking up at him through your lashes. “actually… can we go for another round?”

he feels himself harden again and he grins, softly pushing you onto your back. he’s immediately switched on again and staring down at you with a familiar expression that makes your tummy twist in anticipation.

“‘course, angel,” atsumu leans down and whispers in your ear, his tone much darker than it was moments ago. “but only if you can tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

…I may expand on that last part in the future.

@nyctophilicroses ok. OK. I know I said geto was next, but something came over me and next thing I knew this one was finished 🥹

[hitomisuzuya]

SUZUUU HII!! I don't know if you remember, but I was the one who requested about Scaramouche camboy, so I was wondering if you could write a little more about it?

Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Fingering. Degradation. Praise. Cream pie. As always, consensual participation.

I absolutely can❤️ I got a little carried away and self indulgent.

You were now a constant presence during Scaramouche's livestreams. There was a particular request for you this time: for you to wear only thigh high black stockings.

Your legs were spread, your back to Scaramouche's chest, facing the camera. One arm braced you against his chest, the fingers of his other hand squelching in and out of your cunt.

You rested your head back against his chest, your eyes rolling closed as three fingers consistently hit your sweet spot, making tears sting in your eyes. Your legs shook as you bucked your hips up, nearly breathless as pleasure burst white hot behind your eyes.

"Makes for an obedient slut, does she not?" Scaramouche purred, looking at the camera for a moment, chuckling when a moan of protest keened from your throat as he pulled his fingers from your pussy. It was soon silenced, shaky moans sounding as his fingers played with your throbbing clit.

Responses of agreement popped up in the chat box, some of them saying they enjoy the way you moaned when Scaramouche degraded you. His eyes flicked up to read the chat box, slowly rolling your clit between his fingers before your pussy sucked them back in.

"I promise you her greedy cunt was clenching around nothing," He confirmed, increasing the pace of his fingers as his eyes scanned more of the comments:

"Make her cream like the good girl she is."

"Make sure she thanks her master."

You squirmed against his arm, tilting your head up to nuzzle into his neck as you started to twitch from your approaching orgasm. Your hand flew up to grip his arm, your fingernails digging into his skin the tighter your walls clamped around his fingers. "Scara! Scara, I'm gonna..gonna!.." You barely finished your sentence before your orgasm washed over you. You gripped his arm tighter as you shook.

Scaramouche fingered you lovingly through your orgasm. "Look at you, quaking for me like a good girl," His tongue flicked along the shell of your ear, rubbing his thumb around your clit as he praised you.

"What do we say?" He purred, licking his fingers before pushing them inside your mouth.

"Thank you, Master," You moaned, curling and lapping your tongue in worship on his fingers as you sucked.

"Get on your knees and elbows, kitten," He said, making you gasp in pleasure as he gave your clit a light smack.

Your head spun a little as you did as you were told. Scaramouche turned your head to side so you couldn't muffle your cries into the pillow. You whimpered blissfully feeling the soft sting of his hand across your ass. "Cry like a good girl and tell me how much you want my cock," He commanded, stroking and pumping his aching cock.

"I want it! I want your cock so badly, please!" You pleaded, drooling as you felt the head of his cock press and drag across your clit. You grinded back against it, letting out a strangle cry of pleasure as he hastily pushed his cock inside of you.

His thrusts were merciless, his hips pounding feverishly into yours. His fingers gripped your hips, his cock pulsing as he pounded himself inside of you. You clawed at the pillows, melting as his cock nudged accurately into your sweet spot.

"Fuck, I abused your pussy with my fingers and you still feel fucking tight. What a perfect slut," Scaramouche moaned, caressing your hips in appreciation for the way you obediently pushed back against his cock.

"So good..so good!" You moaned loud and incoherent, melting into his tightening grip on your hips.

"That's it, slut. Babble and enjoy my cock," Scaramouche groaned, his body shuddering as your walls squeezed around his cock.

His name tore from your throat in a scream as your second orgasm hit you. A few minutes later, he pulled out of you, warm cum spurting onto your cunt. He fingered his cum inside of you.

Scaramouche gave everyone a few minutes to drink in your fucked out expression. "Thank you for watching. I'm gonna clean her up and treat her to a long back massage," He cut the stream and focused on tending to you, starting with a soft kiss to your lips once you rolled over onto your side.

[aluciahaz]

may i just say that your character writing is AMAZING! i honestly don’t check up on your blog a lot but when i do i’m left SHAKING because your shit is soooo hot.

Anyways i humbly come requesting mommy kink with vox because you know i’m all about that. he’s so desperate for validation and scared of rejection i feel like he’d be weeping at a domme mommy type reader. Anyways, do what you want with this!

once again i love your work! sincerely, bimbo <3

oh my god it's one of my favorite writers on tumblr🦅 thank you so much for the compliment it means a lot 😭 also i loved writing this ive desperately needed more vox asks! hope you enjoy! (kinda went ham on metaphors 💀 mb)

greed never stops

—vox x f!reader

—includes: overstim, tons of crying, begging, light bondage

vox was a walking, living(?) juxtaposition.

he’ll go barking orders to his subordinates, control most situations with smooth, quick thinking, and command his business with an iron fist.

but with you, the other side of his screen is on full display. his vulnerable, attention-desperate, failure-fearful self. you’ve seen it enough times to notice how it seeps into his daily life. how his control is really just a mechanism to take hold of his vulnerability, hiding it behind a mess of steel wires to make anyone who would try and reach it get tangled in its grasp.

but the moments he lets you untangle his facade, allowing you to see his true self, he feels free. even if most of the time it was during more intimate moments in the night. it was where he could truly indulge in his unfamiliar desires, crying and begging for the validation he was always seeking.

and you were the one he needed it from.

your praise was one of the highest in the hierarchy of compliments, making him feel like he was burning up, frying his brain in a way that made him feel like he’s short-circuited, but the feeling of fuzziness was intoxicating. he could never give up the taste of your compliments.

“come on, aren’t you a good boy? you can hold out for a little longer.”

those words were like rich liquor, and vox was an eager drinker. it swirled his thoughts into a never-ending spiral, and he could only cry in response as you touched his face with a gentleness that rivals an angel’s.

“b-but, mommy—!” he sobs as your fingers drive into him for what seems the thousandth time, his voice module starting to struggle as he tries to speak.

“oh?” you raise your eyebrow, feigning shock before narrowing your eyes, pressing him further down the sheets in disdain. is he still being ungrateful?

“but what, huh? don’t tell me you need more already! you’re such a greedy fucking slut,” you spit out, watching his eyes shoot open from the whiplash of your cruel words. “maybe i should stop—,”

“NO! nono, please! no! i’m sorry—!” he keens as your fingers slowly start to slip out of him, the sound so indecent it makes him shiver.

he pushes his hips up into your hand, trying to follow them only for your other hand to shove his hips back down on the sheets, your fingers twisting nearly all the way out before ramming back in, curling in wickedly that seems to shut him up briefly as he catches a breath that ran away.

vox weeps, unable to do anything else as his claws rip into the mattress, his legs shake and tremble as though they weren’t practically crushing you before. he seems so fragile at this moment, yet you knew he could take much more.

he just didn’t deserve it.

he whines and screams at your touch, tears starting to fall down his pretty little face as the small amount of dignity he had seems to get lost, overrun by your torturous fingers and unyielding pleasure that shoots through his body like a current.

“mommy—ha—please jus—zz—t fuck me, oh, god!” his head drops back down onto the pillows as your fingers wrap around his weeping cock, making his back arch as he sobs out noncoherent pleads. it’s beautifully pathetic.

his legs, weak and feeble, were strewn across the bed with previous markings trailing up his inner thigh, his neck even more decorated with a necklace of red, the glimmer of sweat that covers his whole body making those bites shine similar to crude rubies.

his hands, now tied with his own wires behind the bed (he charges there before he goes to sleep) were sullied with crimson from the tightness of the metal around his wrist, but not as bright crimson as his eyes, which flashed with bright red hearts intermittently. it was always a pleasant surprise, and a sign that he fucking loved this. no matter how much he complained at the start, his eyes spoke the truth.

which is why now, as you replace your fingers with his favorite strap, you know he’s absolutely overjoyed as those beating hearts seem to overtake his pupils once more, pulsating with a hypnotizing spiral.

“finally—! oh—zzz—FUCK!” his last word is practically inaudible with the airiness in his voice, his tone starting to distort, yet, your pace was slow. shallow, even. tears of frustration started to form at the ends of his eyes, his whines more pitiful as he tries to fuck himself back on your strap, only to be stopped by your sturdy grip on his hips.

“what do you say, vox?“ you asked, irritation slipping into your voice. how could he still be so ungrateful? but, he catches on fast, looking up at you with round, glossy eyes.

“thank you! thank—thank you, mommy!” he stumbles out before you switch up your pace instantly, brutally ramming into him just how he likes it. it makes him unable to fathom he could have been known to be anything but yours, surrendering his well-built persona to you. all of it, for your praise.

“such a good boy.”

those words were priceless, but he always ends up trying to buy them with obedience. and even though he’s successfully checked out with such praise, they still have the same effect on him every time.

he shudders and wails with ruined pitch, his screen flickering in and out of error messages and his lovely expression as he gets his reward. there was just something so satisfying about earning your praise.

sure, he can buy pretty much anything, and yes, he can get people to kneel at his feet, but he can’t cry without shame, or indulge in his true desires of being completely wrecked with soft words and fast hips with anyone. no, it could only be you. and even if he practically has everything under his hands, he will always be greedy for your affection, begging, screaming for a chance to have it set his whole body ablaze with its foreign warm feeling.

it makes him lost. no matter how much intelligence vox has, he always finds himself unable to search his way out of the feeling of pure lust overtaking his senses when you fuck him with abandon, his need to keep face seemingly never being there in the first place as tears make him short-circuit, and pleads for you to never stop. he doesn’t want to leave this labyrinth of carnality. he wants to stay lost in it forever.

it’s why even after he cums with a high-pitch sob so loud you thought his volume module broke, he kept weeping incoherently as the lights flicker in the room, his legs practically numb. and finally, he looks up at you, sniffling and choking on his words he’ll pretend to regret the next morning.

“m-more. please, mommy—! AH!” his whole body jolts as you heed his wishes, leaving him to fall back into the pleasure that he craves. he babbles on and on with thank yous and nonsensical sentences, the night seeming to become never-ending even with daybreak inching closer and closer.

vox is unable to speak at the end, and god does everything fucking hurt. his arms ache and his legs are definitely going to be an issue when he has to walk. there are marks all over his skin that will never see the light of day, yet be around for plenty of nights.

but you both know he’ll come back for more. his greed is an unquenchable thirst, and your praise is the only fountain that seems to satiate it, even if only for a little while.

(i totally didnt forget to tag)

tags: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @mvskedxrtist @drlucichen @luciferspetduck

[rekishiteki]

Ardent Affection

Summary: You just really love Jing Yuan

Words: Around 1.5k

Warnings: Fluff the whole way through; reader is not described in any way and implied to be a long life species; reader and jing yuan are very clingy and a little possessive; jing yuan decided to be cheeky so this ended up kind of suggestive at the end

Notes: I wrote this for meee!!!!! It's self indulgent!! It's what I want to do with jing yuan!!! It's been months and I'm still so down bad for him. I'm so in love with him it's making me ill!!!! Done trying to edit this so take it before I explode from the yearning

This is also an offering to his rerun banner. I need my beautiful husband so please let me win my next 50/50 and his lightcone 👉👈

You're relaxing with Jing Yuan in his gardens. He's lying on his side with a hand propping his head up. His eyes are closed and he looks content to be here sunning himself. You're sitting with your back resting against his middle. His other hand is placed on your arm and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest. It's comforting. You let out a content sigh, basking in the serenity of the moment. Your thoughts drift to Jing Yuan as they tend to do, your gaze drifting along with it. You examine him and his beautiful features, heart tightening with the love you feel for him.

"I wish I was as old as you." The words come out of your mouth impulsively, the barely formed thoughts surprising you.

Jing Yuan's eyes open. He looks curious. A moment passes before he responds. "How come?"

You purse your lips before turning away to think. Knowing this Jing Yuan simply lets the hand on your arm start gently stroking you. He'll patiently wait for your answer. He always does.

After a while you turn your body to face him. One hand is supporting you on the ground while you rest the other on his side. "Because," you pause and squeeze the hand you have on him. You're always nervous to voice the feelings you harbor deep within. But in the end you can't help being an open book for him. He makes it so easy to do so. "Because maybe I could have known you sooner. We could've had more time together. And... you wouldn't have had to be alone for centuries."

He's silent as he takes in your words, eyes never leaving you. Then an amused huff escapes him as he brings his free hand to cup your face. The smile Jing Yuan's giving you drives you insane, the one where he looks so utterly in love with you that it constricts your heart to the point it feels like it's going to burst from the overwhelming affection you have for him. Those feelings are where this thought originated from. You love him so much it makes you greedy. Greedy for him. You want his everything and you want to give him everything in turn. You hate that you've missed so much of his life. You want all of him including the past you can't have. To make him irrevocably yours, and you his.

Jing Yuan draws you closer, his thumb lovingly caressing your cheek. It brings your attention back to him. You wonder how much of your thought process he's aware of. Your noses are almost touching now. He's smiling as he speaks. "I have you now."

It takes a moment to find your voice as you find yourself lost in his eyes. "Is that enough?"

He's staring at you like he wants to get lost in yours too. "More than enough. We have our whole future ahead of us, don't we?"

Something inside of you snaps. The way he says it, like it's obvious the two of you will always be together. For a long time. It makes you delirious. Delirious with love. And you need to act on it or you really will burst. So you surge forward to kiss him. And he must have been expecting it because he's already turning on his back and taking you with him. The hand on your cheek moves to the back of your head to press you closer. Your own hands are gripping him tightly. His other hand now on your waist squeezes in response. And so the two of you lie there, luxuriating in each other's sweet kisses. You want to kiss him forever but the need to breathe wins out. You break away with a sigh. Jing Yuan's eyes gleam with mirth as he watches you and you feel as if your breath's been stolen again.

You wonder if you should say something but the only thing you're capable of coming up with is a flurry of I love you's. Jing Yuan seems to know what's rattling in your head for his gaze softens. He brings a hand up to your face again but this time you lean into it and grab it. He chuckles. "You're always so sweet for me," he says, looking so incredibly fond of you.

You hum in acknowledgement. "I love you," you mewl. You love Jing Yuan so much, how could you not want to be so sweet and good for him? He's gone through so much yet still remains so good and kind hearted without ever expecting anything in return. But you want to return it. You want to give him the love he lives by and fill his life with joy. This is the second origin of your thoughts. If you knew him longer you could've started making him the happiest man on the Luofu sooner.

"I love you, too. Very much." He says it like it's a secret just for you, all while looking horribly smitten. It sends your heart soaring. You smile at him and there's no doubt it's just as smitten as his.

Jing Yuan stills and you don't have any time to react as he's the one surging forward to kiss you this time. However this kiss is different. It's searing and tantalizing. You feel your world tilt as Jing Yuan turns to settle over you trapping you under him. His lips part briefly and then give a chaste peck before pulling away to grin at you. It's a playful grin, almost smug. He tilts his head to the side almost as if he's challenging you.

You're wide eyed as you take a moment to recover. Then you laugh and shake your head, smiling all the while. "You're such a scoundrel."

"Only for you." You can tell how much he's enjoying this from the delightful smirk he's wearing.

"Yes, yes, you're my scoundrel." You reach up to pat his head. There's a small hum as his eyes close momentarily in pleasure.

"Do you regret being loved by a 'scoundrel'?" The amusement is clearly written on his face. It's evident he knows what the only answer is.

You scoff. Fleetingly you wonder how to continue but Jing Yuan's assurance in your love for each other always makes you want to be sincere. So you smile and answer, "No. I could never."

A quiet moment passes where Jing Yuan simply returns your smile before he's leaning down to press a loving kiss to your forehead. "Good. I'm afraid there's no escaping from me now." Suddenly, you're very aware of the hands that grip your waist a little tighter and how you're effectively pinned beneath him. It's like he's saying you're his and the thought sends a thrill through you. You're in the palm of his hands now and that's your favorite place to be.

You bring up your arms to wrap them around his neck. You easily pull him closer to you. The two of you stare at each other as the silence simmers with a gentle heat. It's broken—but not gone—when you quietly tell him, "I wouldn't have it any other way. Because you can't escape from me either."

Jing Yuan practically lights up at that. He grins, pleased. "I'm all yours." You think Jing Yuan likes to enable your possessiveness. Something about it seems to fill him with satisfaction. Maybe it's knowing that someone could feel so ardently for him. That somehow you've chosen to love him and never rescind it. Or at least that's how you feel about him and his possession of you. It does make you greedy. He's greedy. He'll take whatever you give him and return it tenfold. You two are lovesick and doomed to never recover.

The thought is tickling. You laugh. There's no need for words so you simply lean forward to kiss him. He meets you halfway. You can't tell who started it but it doesn't matter. Each one speaks of the love you hold for the other.

Jing Yuan pulls away with a nip to your bottom lip. Your breath hitches. Both from the action and the way he's now looking at you. He wants to proposition you. You know he will. And he knows you'll agree. He'll be so nice and sweet as he asks you it'll leave you swooning. You both know this and yet it never gets any less exhilarating.

You can feel the anticipation grow within you as you watch him draw closer. Jing Yuan rests his forehead against yours. He's smiling. The desire in his beautiful golden eyes holds you captive. One of his hands is lightly trailing down your arm to grab your hand. He interlaces his fingers with yours. The two of you remain like that for a moment to take each other in. Finally Jing Yuan says to you, "My dear," and it's spine tingling the way he calls to you so reverently. "Allow me to express my love for you in other ways. Let me show you how good I can be for you, hm?"

His words send a delightful shiver through you. "Please, Jing Yuan," you answer him but it's more of a plead. He really is so good to you. Whatever he gives you, you also want to return tenfold. Jing Yuan gives you one last fond smile before he's up and carrying you to your shared bed. The love you have for him is bubbling up again and threatening to overflow. You also want to express it in other ways. To tether him with sweet adoration and endless devotion like he readily does to you. It's a fulfilling game of give and take neither of you want to end.

[zorosdimples]

AFLOAT

pairing ༄ zoro x gn!reader

warnings ༄ this fic is slightly suggestive, but it’s more fluffy than anything else. reader has an unspecified devil fruit power, and thus cannot swim. reader wears a bra and underwear, and is implied to be shorter than zoro, but no gendered terms are used.

word count ༄ 1365

notes ༄ my birthday fic for zoro! this has been in my drafts since july. it’s disgustingly self-indulgent and filled with emotion; i hope you all enjoy regardless <3 tagging my beloved wife @redskyvenus!

sitting on the edge of a rickety, weather-worn dock, you dip your legs in crystalline water and try to keep your focus on the depths: on the flora that roots at the bottom and reaches to the sun, on the schools of tiny fish that flit around the underwater jungle.

but your gaze keeps drifting to the man swimming laps around the spring, admiring how gracefully his strong body cuts through the water. the midafternoon sun hotly caresses your skin and presses into you like a greedy lover. you lean back on your palms and tilt your head up to soak in the barefaced sky; its cerulean is only obscured by the dense foliage that surrounds the secluded watering hole.

you’re startled from your thoughts when you feel something tickle your toes. with a strangled yelp you scramble back from the edge of the dock. as you steady your breathing and wonder what the hell just touched you, a familiar mint green head bobs up to the surface.

“asshole!” you shout, slamming your hands down on the wooden planks for emphasis.

zoro laughs heartily as he hoists himself out of the water and plops down next to you. he ruffles his hair, sending sparkling droplets flying in the sunlight, landing on your sweat-damp flesh. your eyes flicker to the rivulets that ebb and flow down his naked torso into a little pool beneath him.

remembering your irritation, you half-heartedly punch his tricep and scold him. “you scared me so badly i could’ve fallen into the spring and drowned. and then you have the audacity to laugh at me?”

zoro snorts at your dramatics, but glosses over them, nudging you with his elbow. “i’d never let you drown and y’know it.”

he’s right, of course. zoro is certainly strong enough to haul you out of the water. you’ve watched him save countless people—friend and foe alike—from a premature grave. you put your feet back in the spring, playfully kicking the swordsman’s leg in the process. the chilled water cools your body but isn’t enough to stop the perspiration that beads at your hairline.

“i miss swimming,” you state, thinking aloud more than speaking to the man beside you. you can’t see the way his lone eye maps your profile as though he will forget the cant of your nose and the curve of your lip once this moment passes.

silence hangs comfortably for several breaths before zoro turns to you with a sly—or is it sinister?—smile. “let me take you swimming.”

you blink at him a few times, face scrunching into the signature scowl he secretly adores.

“did you hit your head on a rock or something? i’m a devil fruit user. it’s physically impossible for me to stay afloat in water, let alone swim in it.”

his grey eye shines with mirth. “just listen for a sec, will ya? no need for insults,” he chuckles as he rises to his feet and offers you a hand.

you appraise him with a quirked brow. you will yourself to push away thoughts of how beautiful he looks bathed in sunbeams and how you wish you could chart the planes of his body the same way you are charting the grand line. how you would see and count and kiss every scar etched in his flesh and tell him how happy you are that he’s alive.

zoro keeps his expectant stance, and you focus on his outstretched hand, just as sinewy and scarred as the rest of his body.

“d’you trust me?” he inquires. his eye searches yours for truth.

“more than i trust myself,” you answer without thinking. the admission is perhaps too honest, but you catch his dimpled smile and feel a little lightheaded as you grasp his rough palm and stand up beside him.

zoro leads you off the dock and around the rocky curves and edges of the spring to an ideal point of entry. you reach a stretch that resembles a beach: a sandy shore that slopes into the water. he starts walking into the spring expecting you to follow, but when you hesitate, he pauses and spins to face you.

“somethin’ the matter?” he asks.

you wordlessly glance down at your jean shorts and white top. “ah,” he says with a curt nod. “you should just wear your swimsuit. don’t wanna get all bogged down with wet clothes.”

you absentmindedly fiddle with the edge of your shirt and clear your throat. “i don’t have a swimsuit, zoro.”

“huh? nami’s always got one on. you’re tellin’ me you don’t?”

you rub your temples. “oh my god, zoro. nami can swim—i can’t. why would i ever wear a swimsuit when i have no intention of swimming?”

after a few tense beats, he tries again. “so—”

you interrupt him with a huff. “just turn around and wait a second. please?”

he obeys without question and you sigh. before you second guess yourself, you undress, leaving your shirt and shorts in a tidy pile on the sand. you’re left in your bra and underwear. they’re nothing special: just a matching cotton set that has seen better days. they are well-worn and comfortable—perfect for the sticky summer heat. you muster all your courage and start walking toward the shoreline.

it’s not a big deal.

it’s just like a swimsuit.

he won’t care.

it’s not as though he likes me.

zoro can hear your tentative steps, faint splashes in the water behind him. he doesn’t turn to you since you never told him he could. once you reach his side, he angles his head so he can look you directly in the eyes, saying, “we’re gonna walk until the water is up to your shoulders. is that okay?” if you saw a rosy flush on his cheeks, you could have easily mistaken it for the heat or too much sun.

“yeah,” you breathe.

the two of you walk in silence. you feel fine until the water hits your waist, then reality sets in. you haven’t been in a body of water since you were a young child. icy panic surges through your veins when you feel a fish graze one of your legs; you instinctively grab zoro’s tanned forearm to steady yourself.

“easy there, s’okay,” he soothes, stopping so you can get your bearings. when you don’t let go of him, he adds a simple “c’mere,” securing a strong arm around your waist. the water is cold, but his touch burns you.

it’s a strange sensation, delving deeper in the clear water, the surface lapping at your shoulders. it’s both nostalgic and new, familiar and foreign, frightening and exciting—even more so with the man holding you.

“see? you’re a pro,” zoro teases, calloused fingers gentle as he squeezes your waist.

usually, you would bite back, but you’re transfixed by the feeling. you attempt to turn and face zoro, but stumble in the process, unused to how clunky your legs feel underwater. he wraps both his arms around your waist, anchoring you to him.

it dawns on you how close you two are: your bodies pressed together, a thin layer of sodden fabric separating your flesh from his. the swordsman hopes you can’t feel how fast his heart is beating. (you would if you weren’t so focused on your own heartbeat.)

you peer up at zoro, hands splayed on his firm pecs, and for the first time, you see unguarded longing in his steel gaze. it’s awkward, the way neither of you can bring yourselves to speak. but leaning into one another feels right.

uncharacteristically, zoro breaks the quiet. his voice is rich—husky—as he asks, “you okay?”

boldly, you link your hands around his sun-warmed neck, thrilled when he doesn’t pull away, but instead sinks into your touch. you stand on your tiptoes, inching closer to him. zoro’s head hangs low, chapped lips parted, breath heavy. he’s so close that you can see him and smell him and hear him and feel him, but you want to taste him, too.

“let’s just stay like this,” you murmur.

and in the middle of the chilly spring, two burning souls stay afloat, zoro’s lips moving, melting, blurring against your own.

[wildemaven]

strangers : fog | dave york

pairing: dave york x f!reader word count: 5208 chapter warning's: 18+ blog: established relationship, workaholic Dave, soft Dave, miscommunication, Smut (slight exhibitionism, dry humping, orgasms, keeping kind of vague for the sake of not giving things away), implied/alluding to infidelity (there is none, reader just doesn’t know this), Dave’s phone makes an appearance- shocking, drinking alcohol, smoking cigarettes, conversations with bestie, reader is mentioned wearing lingerie and a bathing suit- but zero description features, no age given but it’s implied she’s at least over 30, no y/n, this is au- no Carol (at least not canon Carol) or kids, if I missed anything let me know notes: I kind of struggled with the end of this one. It felt very flat and blah, but thankfully @gnpwdrnwhiskey Is a gem and helped me, and it feels good now. So grateful for all of you who’ve been following along. Xoxo

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It’s sweet. 

But not the kind of sweet that aches and destroys your addiction. 

It’s perfect. Just enough. 

The kind of sweet that falls somewhere in the middle. Satiating that deep seeded craving that burns through your every fiber. 

Like a glass of ice cold tea under the Texas sun, sweetened to perfection. Each tantalizing drop coating your tongue, idly encompassing every single taste bud with refreshing pleasure. 

You're greedy. Reveling in your consumption. Take. Take. Take. Because it’s all you want and everything you’ve been needing. 

Finally.

You feel him everywhere. The weight of him is substantial, pressing you into the side of the pool. A secure grip onto the ledge, the swell of his biceps flexed as he does his best to keep you both suspended and unmoving from your secluded spot. 

He’s a blistering summer heatwave, one you’re fully hydrated and prepared for, but still stunned by its sultriness. 

“You think they’re watching us right? All of them so fucking jealous at how good I’m makin’ you feel.” You don’t bother to take a look when he says it, your head angled back and eyes closed as his lips work their way up your neck, your only concern at the moment. 

“Mmhmm— I honestly don’t care. Let them watch. Let them see how good you’re taking care of me— fuckbaby!” Your train of thought derailed when his hips jerk up with a little more eagerness than you expected. 

The cool water laps rhythmically against you both. The tiniest of splashes to your exposed skin as it surrounds your bodies, relieving the heat that’s burning through you. 

“Ahh!” You gasp at the sensation of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Nipping and pulling. The gentle glide of his tongue soothing over the pleasant sting. 

“Sorry—“ He manages to get out. “Didn’t mean to be so rough, but also been wantin’ this so fuckin’ bad.”

His lips seal over yours again, groaning where he can feel you grinding against him, discreetly hidden below the surface of the water. Your legs wrapped tightly around his narrow waist, holding him as close as possible. 

He’s unbelievably hard. Cock nudging against your aching core, the water aiding in the flow of your hips moving over him in search of relief. 

“I’m definitely not complaining in the slightest. If anything, I’m entirely enjoying the roughness— wouldn’t be opposed to more of it.” You say smiling against his swollen lips. 

Your words lure him back in, driven by a deeper sense of want forging beneath the water. Lashes fluttering shut as every bit of him consumes your senses. All tongues and teeth, tracing over every ridge and fleshy surface. A sweet delicate dance of unbridled emotions. 

It's a slow building, intensely breathtaking. Your body ignited by self-indulgent energy, so hell-bent on seeking out unrivaled satisfaction, but you don’t seem to care. Focused solely on how each and every nerve lights up because of him, desperately wanting a release. A natural response to the way he’s holding you, kissing you, his determination to bring you closer and closer to the edge. 

“Fuck— that feels so good!” Breathless and anchoring yourself to his warm body. 

“Yeah? You think you can come like this?” One of his hands settles on your hip, helping your unfaltering movements, hitting that ever so desirable spot just right. “There you go, gorgeous— just like that.”

“ohmygod!! I’m so close— don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.“ Your grip secure on his taut shoulders, unmoving even under the wet conditions. Your head falling onto his forehead, noses nudging, exchanging desperate wordless breaths. 

“I’ve got ya.” He whispers, nodding softly as your body writhes against him. “Come for me, Baby.”

“Oh fuck! oh fuck! oh fuck— I’m coming!” Everything dissolves into pleasure. Tense and blissed out as your cunt contracts around nothing. 

“Open your eyes, Baby. Let me see you come undone.”

You pull back just enough to see him. He’s beautiful, framed in a hazy white vignette. His patchy beard is both rough and soft beneath your fingertips, tracing over every little detail of him while you still can. His rich brown eyes now a golden hue as the light hits them from the reflection of the water.  

“Fuck— Joel!”

You’re floating. Further and further away. Every detail of him slowly dissolving into nothingness. 

Your body jolts awake, Oh god, That felt so fucking real. Quickly sitting up, your hand to your chest feeling where your heart is frantically pounding. 

The dry air from the vent billows out from above you, cooling as it skims over your tacky skin. 

The remnants of last night's headache still remain. Though it wanes in intensity, the throbbing pain continues. Rubbing at your temples, the added pressure doing absolutely nothing. 

There’s a faint familiar ache that catches your attention from below the sheets, prompting you to throw them off, finding a pillow still tucked tightly between your legs. The experimental squeeze of your thighs around the pillow sends a fresh ripple of pleasure from your fading orgasm, causing you to inhale sharply. Your palms clamping over your mouth, breath more constricted than the last as a strong feeling of shame begins to surge through your veins. 

The hotel room feels paralyzing, especially with Dave sleeping beside you. 

The beach. 

Needing some fresh air and some time to collect your irrational thoughts, away from this confined space where everything seems to be closing in on you. Hastily, you manage to pull on some warm clothes and sandals while throwing your wallet and phone in your purse without waking Dave.

You know the minute he wakes up to find you gone he’ll panic. It will take only minutes to have all his agent buddies pulling maps and running background checks on anyone who lives within a mile radius of the hotel. You’re already annoyed with his distant behavior, you don’t have it in you to deal with the added disgruntlement that will ensue. 

Grabbing for the monogrammed hotel stationary, you scratch out a note to leave on this nightstand for him to find when he does wake. 

Good Morning, Babe Couldn’t sleep. Went for a walk down to the beach. I have my phone. Will be back in a bit.  Love you Xoxo

You two his phone screen, noting the time at the bottom— 8:00 am —a little tactic Dave had ingrained in you for matters as such, giving a starting point in the case anything were to happen to you, taking the guessing game of when out of the equation. 

A New Message glows on the screen, came in sometime last night after you both got back from dinner, he must have fallen asleep before seeing it. 

Double checking, you peek over the mound of blankets that is Dave’s solid body— still sleeping. The side of his face buried into his pillow and his plush lips parted. No worry lines etched across his forehead. No tension pulling at his jawline. His perfectly groomed hair, all disheveled and twisted in all directions. 

Your heart blooms at how handsome he is, his truest self on full display. A running joke between you, how others would be disappointed to find out his grumpy exterior is all a show, only reserving his softer side and big heart for you. 

Refocusing back to his phone, you tap the message to preview it— a message from his mom. 

Mom: Did she find out? Call me when you can, we’ll talk about it then. 

Did she find out? Find out what?

*

The beach isn’t far from the hotel. Grateful for only a few hellos and forced smiles exchanged on the shared path on the short walk.

The air is crisp the closer you get to the water, a light breeze blows over the shoreline bringing tiny bits of sand crystals through the air. You can feel the salt already crystallizing against your cheeks. 

The lingering fog adds a bit of gloom to the atmosphere as you look out over the horizon in front of you. The white caps of the waves slowly roll over into the next, pushing their way through until they’ve reached the shore. The water fanning out as it moves, blanketing over the sand as it reaches where feet are planted firmly, now surrounded by the frigid sea water. Then it slowly slinks back out, leaving you numb as you wait for it to return. 

Good Morning! Are you busy?  No. Are you okay? Yeah, I’m fine. I just need someone to talk to.  One sec!

It takes a few flicks of the small metal dial for the flame to ignite, cupping your hand around to shelter it from the light wind threatening to squash your attempt at some sort of relief. 

It’s instant when it hits the back of your mouth, swirling and stinging about as it creeps up the back of your throat. That burn is all too familiar, no longer a regular occurrence, but definitely not forgotten. It takes the edge off momentarily, it always does. You imagine blowing out all your pent up anger as your release the smoke into the oceanic air. 

The cigarette sits between your fingers with ease, secure against those first knuckles as you bring it back to your lips for another desperate pull. That dedicated drag of your favorite menthol smokes had once been a regular part of your daily life in your college days. Getting you through long days of studying and working late hours, barely keeping your head above the water. Pack after pack. Light, smoke, tension gone, repeat. 

Eventually it was downgraded to a social practice before finally kicking the habit all together. Something Dave never pushed for, but was proud of you nonetheless. 

Your phone screen illuminates and buzzes simultaneously, a picture of Jacey double fisting some beers at last year's Fourth of July party pops up. The image alone already makes you feel better. 

“Mmm… Hello?” You can tell she just woke up by the way she garbles her words into the phone. 

“Hey, Jacey. I didn’t wake you did I?”

“Mhmm— Kind of but it’s okay— had a bit of a late night, but it’s fine. How are things going?”

“Fine. Good. Things are good.” Trying hard to keep your voice even without giving away too much— but she knows you too well. 

“I’m calling bullshit. You’re seriously the worst liar ever. Spill.” 

“Ugh. Where do I even start?” You tell her, audibly groaning into the brisk pacific air. 

“I’ve got some time.” 

Jacey has always been this way. Available whenever you’ve needed her, at a moment's notice. Connecting with her in college, your friendship has been a steady source of support and encouragement through the years. She stood by you when you married Dave— having her now makes you feel less alone. 

“Well, if it’s not one thing it’s another. There were some high hopes for sex when we got in the other night,  then he passed out— which is fine ‘cause traveling and what not. But I got in my head, questioning shit about myself and our relationship. Like maybe it’s me or something. He did try to initiate the next morning but I just kind of wasn’t feeling it— so we didn’t. Plus he had phone calls he needed to make so he wasn’t worrying about them the rest of our time here.”

“Hey, it’s not you at all. Don’t ever think that. You’re a catch— Dave knows that too.” She says, her reassurance firm but delivered sincerely. 

“Thank you. I mean, we kind of fooled around at the pool yesterday.”

“Ooooh!! I love this for you.”

“Well, then he ran off right before I— you know.”

“Fucking men, I swear.”

“Only to find him on the phone when he said he wouldn’t be. Then he was all jealous over this stranger I was talking to. We got back to the room, things seemed a little tense— we still went to dinner. Don’t really remember much after that, because I kept ordering dirty martinis at dinner.”

After hearing the beginning of his phone call, the shower didn’t do much to help. You didn’t want to make a scene, deciding to just leave the hurt bubbling inside of you back in the room and make the best of the rest of the night. 

Dave seemed pretty much his normal self going into dinner. Conversation was lighter than it was earlier in the room. You both caught up on things that you hadn’t really talked about in a while— details about his latest assignments (within reason), your own latest work projects, random tidbits about things —things felt normal.

There was a slight shift in the evening, when he was checking his phone more often than usual. Glancing at the screen between bites of his steak then trying to figure out where you left off in the conversation. 

You hadn’t even planned on drinking, but the chilled cocktail in front of Dave had been taunting you, begging to help obliterate your lingering thoughts. Then it was I’ll have another, Maybe one more, Suuuuure another sounds grreat. The dim restaurant turned into hazy fractures of light. The steady buzz of alcohol had you feel giggling and sleepy, slumping back into the velvet cushion of the intimate booth. Dave cut you off before things turned into a wild evening, shifting from your introverted self into a very lively and friendly drunk. 

You don’t even remember getting back to the room, just brief glimpses of Dave undressing you and helping you into one of his shirts, then tucking you into bed. 

“Hold up. Rewind— you fucking hate martinis! What the hell happened?!” She knows you so well. 

“Jacey, you’re my best friend. Someone who will be straight with me no matter what. I think— Do you think Dave is cheating on me?” You ask meekly, inhaling another minty pull from your nearly finished cigarette. 

“What?! Babe, why would you think Dave is cheating on you? Did something happen?”

““No— I mean yes. I think so. Fuck! I don't know what to think. We got back to the room after the pool yesterday, talked for a little bit then I went to get ready for dinner. I guess he thought I closed the door or something but I could hear him talking to someone—“ You try to keep your voice steady, finding it hard to blink the tears away as the wind whips around you. 

“Okay. Well, that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s cheating on you. It could have just been more work shit he said he wasn’t going to do. Maybe he figured he could squeeze it in before dinner— not wanting to upset you.” Jacey is all about layout the facts and details before jumping down dark rabbit holes. 

“Ashley— Her name is Ashley. I heard him say her name.” 

There’s a beat of silence on the line before you hear her sigh. 

“Oh— what else did you hear?” She says, sounding a little more somber than before. 

“Nothing. My brain kind of went blank after that and I just got ready for dinner like I didn’t hear anything. Hence the abundance of martinis I drank my way through. Which also explains the slight headache I woke up with this morning.”

“Okay. So whoever he was talking to—“

“Ashley.” Details Jacey. 

“Right, Ashley. We don’t really know much, aside from that. So it could be anyone. Could be work related— Ashley could be a last name too. You know how they always do that last name first thing for whatever reason.” Somehow she always finds a way to get you to back away from the cliff, especially when your feet are over the edge. 

“Yeah, probably.” You say softly in agreement. A flock of birds catching your attention, their wings moving in unison as they fly overhead. 

“Look, like you said before— I’m gonna be straight with you. I don’t think Dave is cheating or would ever cheat. That man loves you. Sure, he’s kind of been a little too invested in work, which is affecting things with you. I don’t think there’s someone else. I promise. But I do think you both need to talk instead of this weird dance you both are doing, that way you’re both on the same page.”

“Okay. Yeah— you’re right. Thank you, Jace. Last thing— Does it make me a bad person if I had a dream about another man last night?” You ask, feeling a bit embarrassed as you voice it out loud. 

“I have those all the time— especially with that cute actor from that narcos show we love. Dreams don’t equate to real life.” She only slightly laughs at your confession. 

“What if it was with a guy I met at the pool who’s staying in the hotel, who listened to me spill my life away about how I’m not sure if my husband wants kids or not now— and how marriage feels like a mess.” 

“Oh! Pool guy was cute— No, I don’t think that makes you a bad person. Your thoughts are just all over the place right now. It was a dream. You’re fine. Hey, I hate to bail on you— but I’m umm, getting another call. We will chat soon, then you can give me more details about the cute pool guy. Love you!”

“Love you too, Jace. Talk soon. Bye.”

The call clicks out. Waves crashing onto the shore brings you back to the beach. Your cheeks cold and feet stinging as the water recedes again. 

It's nearing 10 am now, deciding to head back before Dave does in fact worry that you’ve been gone for too long. You snuff out the smoldering cigarette in the wet sand and stick it in your bag to dispose of later. The added nicotine now mingles poorly with your lingering hangover, body in desperate need of water and a strong pain reliever. 

On your way back to the hotel, you take every bit of what Jacey said and truly let it sink in, even as hard as it is to not let your mind wander into dark territory. She’s right though, it doesn’t do you any good to dwell on situational events if you have zero proof of anything. That doesn’t mean that you’ve written off your uneasiness completely, just simply tucking it away for the time being. 

The sweet bellmen welcomes you back with a friendly smile and a wave as he holds the door open for your return. The lobby now bustles with more guests than earlier. Some checking in for their stay, others enjoying the picturesque ambience of the hotel. 

In the time that it takes to get up to your room, you’ve run through several different scenarios in your head. All feeling immensely overwhelming at the thought of talking with Dave about how you’ve been feeling since he hasn’t seemed to pick up on the subtle inklings that there’s been a definite shift in your relationship the past few months. You’re not really sure you even want to have the conversation now, let alone here— not wanting to ruin the rest of the vacation in the chance things don’t go as smoothly as you want. You ultimately decide to wait, once you’ve settled back in at home, finally address everything with him.

You can hear Dave’s voice muffled outside the door of your room as you search for your key card in your bag, sounding as if he’s talking to someone on the phone. 

The room is bright as you enter, the curtains pulled open allowing the sun to shine through the large windows. The bed is somewhat made with the pillows stacked neatly and sheets straightened in an orderly Dave manner. 

Food had already been ordered and delivered, set out on the small table on the balcony. Your favorite breakfast of eggs benedict and toast along with a fresh pot of coffee. Dave’s usual eggs and bacon sit untouched, waiting for your return to enjoy breakfast together. 

Dave’s standing in front of the window, looking out at the scenery with his phone to his ear, but the sound of you entering the room has him turning towards you. 

His hair is freshly washed, combed up and out of his face. Wearing his favorite blue jeans snug around his hips, a white patterned shirt just barely buttoned to reveal enough of his slightly burnt chest to make your mouth water. It’s his beaming smile, arguably his best accessory, that makes your chest flutter, drawing you in closer to where he’s standing. 

“It’s my mother.” He whispers, covering the phone with his hand as she continues to talk into his ear. 

Did she find out? Call me when you can, we’ll talk about it then. Still wondering what her vague text message meant. 

“Yeah, Mom. She just walked through the door.” You hear her mention your name through the speaker. “My mom says hi.”

“Hi, Carol.” You say sweetly, kissing Dave’s cheek before turning to place your bag on the ground near the dresser, leaning back on the wall, watching Dave as he finishes the rest of the conversation. 

“Okay, sounds good…Tell dad hello for us and we’ll talk to you later… Love you, too… bye.” The screen of his phone goes black and he tosses it over to the bed. 

Grabbing a glass and some small pills resting on the dresser, closing the short distance to where you’re standing and holding the water and pain reliever out to you.

“I figured your head is probably killing you this morning.” Dave says smiling at you, no sign of annoyance in his face. 

“Thanks— Sorry about last night. I don’t know what got into me.” Tossing back the pills back, gulping the water down quickly, your focus on the remaining drops of water sliding down the side of the glass, pooling together at the bottom. 

Dave takes the glass from you, setting it over on the top of the dresser. One of his hands settles on your hip as the other tilts your chin up so your gaze is now directed at him. 

“Did you have a good walk?” Dave asks. One of his warm hands now cupping the side of your neck, surely he can feel the way your pulse is quickening, elevated just by a simple touch from him. 

“Yeah. It was nice— foggy, but beautiful. We should go again before we leave.” Your hands migrate to his shirt, fingers absentmindedly toying with the top abandoned buttons and soft silky fabric.

“Umm— I can smell the smoke on you. It’s fine, I don’t mind that you were— but is everything okay?” He knows, senses something is off, because he knows you don’t just smoke to smoke these days. Senses there’s something that triggered your need for your old vice, something to dull out whatever is silently bothering you. 

Yet somehow you have almost forgotten about the cigarette until now when he asks. Feeling a bit of shame for the second time again this morning, though you don’t pick up on any sort of judgment when he does ask about it. 

“Everything is fine. Just sounded good so I bought them on my way to the beach— don’t think I’ll even finish the pack though. I’m good.” Liar. You hate the way Dave winces at your answer. He knows there’s something simmering below the surface, but he doesn’t push for more. 

“Okay— okay. There’s breakfast here and I was thinking afterwards we could go to some shops or something. I made reservations for tonight at 6, I thought you might want to find something new to wear. Maybe we can grab some lunch near the beach too.” He tells you, brushing off the small specks of sand cemented to your face. 

You find yourself on the brink of tears, swallowing the little lump that started to form in your throat. Certain the next few days would be filled with worriment and noiseless vexation. There’s almost relief in hearing how he’s planned out the day, something he hasn’t done in months. Work and meetings always at the forefront of his planning lately, leaving little to no time for dinners or regular weekend getaways. 

“Or we can stay in if you want.” His head tilts a little, brown eyes scanning over every detail of your face as you mull over his plans a little longer than he expected. 

“No, that sounds nice. I brought some dresses that I can wear though, we don’t have to buy anything.” You shake your head in response. Pushing a few loose strands that had fallen out of place, his eyes closing at the sensation of your fingers combing through his hair. 

“We can just look, and if you find something you like we can get it.” Dave suggests— a nice middle ground. 

He leans in, his nose knocking against yours, humming as you continue to play with his hair. 

“Okay.” You breathe out, his intense eye contact starting to ignite something within you. 

“You’re sure everything’s okay?” Offering you another opportunity to bare it all out for him. 

His lips graze over yours when he asks, just enough to have you wanting more. 

“Yeah. Everything is fine— promise.” 

“Alright. Let’s get some food in you and then we can get ready to head out. And there’s coffee—” His thought abandoned, his lips crashing into yours in a passionate kiss. 

You eagerly respond, wrapping your arms around his neck as he presses you further into the wall. Your head swirling with want, thrilled at the fact that he’s so keen to give you exactly what you’ve been craving. The scent of his cologne mixed with the musky smell of him fills your senses, making you weak for him even more.

His tongue explores your mouth, tangled together in a heated dance as your bodies grind against each other, arousal growing with each passing moment. 

His hands roam freely over your body, stopping at your hips to pull you in even closer has you gasping into his mouth.  

“Fuck— Dave!”

“Yeah— that feel good, Baby?” Dave’s hard almost instantly, pressing against you as you slowly grind on him. You're scorching from the friction of your bodies, the coil already winding in your lower abdomen, shivers tingling up your spine.

“Yes!! Oh god, yes!! So good, Dave!” You cry out. The heat between you unbearable, the need for release is all consuming—- more more more. 

Dave’s lips fuse to yours again, dragging one hand down between your bodies. He slips under the waistband of your leggings, deft fingers finding the damp fabric of your panties, a sticky mess because of him. He’s enlivened by the way your body writhes as a result of his touch. Fingers circling over your clit in a deliberate frenzied manner, causing you to release a breathy moan into his mouth.

“You think you can come right here? I’m not gonna last much longer.” He says breaking the kiss. His eyes are filled with a burning desire as he looks at you. You nod, encouraging him to continue his ministrations, before he’s capturing your lips again. 

You whine at the loss of his fingers moving over your aching bundle of nerves, your body in dire need of his touch now that he’s giving you all of it. 

Dave’s hands slip under your top, fingers trailing over your pebbled skin as he pulls it up and over your head. You help him, tossing it aside, leaving you in only your lace bra and bottoms as you lean back against the coolness of the wall, chest heaving with need.

“More— pl-please, I’m almost there. ohfuckyesyesyes!.” His hands explore your body, memorizing every curve and dip with a new surge of want and urgency, his fingers trailing down your back to grip your ass and pulling you closer— sparks of pleasure blazing through you nearing a fiery release. 

‘I know baby, I’ve got you’ murmured against your neck, his words riddled with assurance as he sucks on the sensitive skin there. 

Your hands grip his shoulders as he continues to explore you with his mouth, caressing every inch of you as he makes his way down to your chest, pulling the fabric of your bra down, his fingers gliding over the tight skin. He cups the weight of your breast in his hand, taking one of your hardened nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, teeth gently nipping as you moan louder and louder, while his other hand fondles and twists at your other side. 

“Oh fuck! Baby, I’m gonna come—“ You gasp, arching your back, your nails digging into Dave’s shoulders has him clamping down harder on your overly sensitive nipple. The pleasing painful sting shoots straight to your core, your velvet walls pulsating, your climax within reach.

A pleasurable ache builds for the second time this morning, except this time it’s because of Dave. All your pent up emotions forging together, building into the most magnificent wave of arousal you’ve felt in a long time. 

You pull his face up to meet yours, lips messily crashing against his in another bliss driven kiss. His hard cock straining behind the tightness of his jeans, tilting your cunt at the perfect angle while hoping Dave is reaping the benefits of your euphoric pursuit as you grind down on the rough seam of his denim that helps careen you over the edge. 

It’s like a dream— except it's not, it’s better. Real and satiating. Your orgasm is forceful as it rips through you, taking every bit of residual tension along with it. 

Dave’s movements become faster and more charged. His hips moving in a stuttering pattern— fuckfuckfuck —then stilling as a deep groan barrels through his chest. You wrap a leg around him as he collapses into you, his face nestled in the crook of your neck, holding him tightly to your body. 

A breeze blows through the open balcony door, diffusing the layer of sexual haze wafting through the room. The air is welcoming, enveloping your bodies in the crispness that comes with being in close proximity to the Pacific. 

It feels lighter. Less suffocating— even with the weight of your husband holding you against the wall. The low lying fog no longer a dense cloud looming over you, allowing the brightness to fully shine through. 

The turbulent thoughts have settled, replaced with a mildness that seems more manageable for the time being. Your headache becomes a subsiding dullness, overpowered by the replenishment of a compelling desire. 

“Shit— I came in my fucking pants like a goddamn teenager. Couldn’t even make it to the bed.” He says, post sexual vibrato etched into his voice, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbone as he lifts himself up to his full height. 

Dave’s skin is glowing, a sheen of sweat glistening in the morning light. His cheeks flushed with a tinge of pink, the muscles in his neck flexing as he worked to control his breathing. The silkiness of his shirt now damp and stuck to his chest. 

“Hmm. I feel too good to even care. You have no idea how bad I needed that.” You smile at him, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth, brushing a few fallen strands of hair away from his face. 

The corner of his eyes crinkle. He’s beaming, infatuated with you as he leans in, resting his forehead on yours and whispers, “Do you have any idea how much I love you?.” 

“Love you too, Dave.”

[shenachigans]

BR33DING | Yukong

PAIRING: Amab!Yukong x Fem!Reader

CW: smut, breeding (duh), sexually pent-up Yukong, brief mention of jealous Yukong, implied workers with benefits, bottom female afab reader

SUMMARY: Yukong eventually succumbs to her desire to breed you.

A/N: I haven't done her story quest (I can't bring myself to huhu) so I'm not sure if her backstory is accurate. Also, wow, it took me a while to write for another HSR character. Think of this as my peace offering before I disappear again ;>

WORDS: 443

(FANFIC IS UNDER THE CUT!)

As someone dedicated to their position, Helm Master Yukong is restless from her duties. But then she met you: someone who could wash her stress away in seconds. Your presence lifts her grumpy mood whenever things don’t go as planned, a habit from her past as a racer. 

You allow Yukong to use you as she pleases, letting herself indulge in your body as she wishes. She loves how pliable and obedient you are for her pleasure. Oh, how your mouth and hands artistically moved around her cock until your face and tongue got covered with her stringy release. 

Yukong, however, did not indulge herself in using your pussy. She had reasons you didn’t know, but she did make it up to you. Like you, her tongue and fingers were her instruments, pleasuring your nub and drooling hole. Calloused fingers grazed your silky walls as she fingered you on her lap in the comfort of her office. Foxian tongue brushed against your cervix as she made you sit on her face during work hours.

Your reactions were a sight, and your moans were music to Yukong’s ears. Not only would her ears and tail twitch, but her cock also. She has not made it known to you, but it was her forbidden desire to breed you — wanting to paint your walls white and fill your womb with her cum. She would only stop when you’re pregnant with her pups. But such a desire wasn’t in your agreement, for she refused to tell you about it.

As a former Starskiff racer, Yukong was prone to let her emotions consume her. She desired to win every race she competed in, but it was a greedy desire. She did not win every race. Thus, anger and impatience gained control in those moments. After all, she was a young foxian back then. If she were to let herself use your pussy, it would become a problem. Her desires were strong, and your flower was bait. Indulging herself in such would only make her lose control. Then again, self-control has its limits.

Yukong lost her composure when someone threatened to take you away: another hungry foxian setting their eyes on you, slowly whisking you away with their presence. Only then would she act upon her instincts and do as she desired. No one would dare steal you from her when you’re pregnant with her pups. The feeling of your pussy around her cock was euphoric. She had never been so drunk in pleasure. The way you clench your walls suffocated her length, milking her cock dry as if you were silently pleading for her to make you hers. 

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this format! Please do tell me if you would want more fanfics written like these :)

© shenachigans — do not plagiarise, translate, repost, or copy.

[kyoghurts]

BIRTHDAY GIFT ୨ৎ˙⋆. MASH BURNEDEAD/GN! READER

a very special oneshot written by @kyoghurts on their bday, pure fluff & very self-indulgent. 1.1k wc. literally i feel very single with this.

you’re awakened by the sudden attack of kisses invading your face, a swarm of heart fluttering feeling fizzing around your stomach, usually you’d giggle from the affection that which mash burnedead presents. but…it’s odd, its so early, and you’re pretty sure your boyfriend of 3 years isn’t a morning person like you either.

and so the first thing that comes out of you is a low grumble, a tired movement averting from mash’s lips, he stops when you do so, and you don’t have to open your eyes to see his expression. you know he’s slightly pouting just from the quiet whine you’re hearing. without opening your eyes, you mutter, “mash… what are you doing?”

“what do you mean?” he snuggles up to you, the bed creaks as his weight shifts towards you, surrounding your legs with his and his arms circling around your waist. giving you a warm back hug. “it’s a special day today.”

“what?” he gives your ear a little teasing nibble, making you squirm. “…tickles..”

“it’s your birthday,” your name under his lips, a smile in his tone that nudges you in the direction of realization. “you always forget your own birthday.”

ah, your birthday. right.

it seems like you lost the ability to speak, because all you ever do is grumble. mash chuckles, ever so softly, his breath warm as it ghosts across your neck “it’s okay. i’ll never get tired of reminding you anyway.”

you take a moment to ponder. how unusual your birthdays often unfold, mainly because mash is here, and partially because you don’t see any value in celebrating it. well, at least, not by standards. your age only serves to bring stressful & anxious thoughts to you, of how you’re constantly growing up to a person that society cultivates you for its own gain, of how time never stops for anyone, of how greedy life asks of you. you don’t like birthdays, or at least, not anymore.

you’d like to think its only a simple moment of truth, a short pause to your life frame that you can use to your hearts content. and by that, you wish to spend this day as plainly as possible, as sluggishly and lazily as you can get. because to you, this is the life. to you, this is a paradise you’re honoured to be graced upon.

but with mash, oh…you never seemed to get a chance to convince him that your preferences are better. he has persuaded you many times that your birthday is a sacred time, a moment of outburst energy to be spent in the form of laughter so pervasive it fills your home until it reaches to your roof, in the form of inviting the people that have already taken residence in the comforts of your heart, in the form of smiles that ache your cheek,

and in the form of staying up late with him, confined in the four walls that keeps your hungry touches, silvery whispers, a secluded, precious part hidden beneath the piles of gift you could ever receive.

…maybe the last part isn’t so bad, though.

you want to set everything aside except the man who loves you enough to celebrate the day you’re born. even when you say it’s not worth the effort. he makes it a mission to convince you so. that you’re worth it, in every step that you take, in every part of you and your life, in the ups and downs.

he reminds you that this is the day he has been grateful of because you exist. that he is permitted to love you with all his being.

you take a deep breath, and let it all out. “reminding me of my birthday, huh?”

“mmh.”

you take his hands from where it finds purchase in the dip of your hips, bringing his knuckles to your lips, “you know i only want you.”

he doesn’t react, although you can sense his confusion from the way his head slightly tilts up. momentarily withdrawing from your neck. you continue, “if you want to really celebrate, it can be just the two of us.”

“you don’t want to invite them?”

“them?”

“your friends, our friends, our loved ones.”

“mash.” although you don’t want to face him just yet, you might have to show him you’re serious. you begrudgingly move your body, now mirroring him as you capture his figure, pulling him closer than before. your hands massages his hair, fingers running through his now messy strands. his silly bed hair drawing out a huff of amusement from you. “cut the act now, i know you. you don’t want them here either.”

his expressions softens into a shape of tenderness, as if to say ‘caught me already?’ and provides you nothing except a short peck to your nose. hopefully that suffices of an answer for you.

“confess your crimes to me properly, please.”

“i’m sorry…” he pecks you again, this time on your eyelids when you promptly close them. “i just want to make you happy, ‘s all. make this day as eventful as possible. i want to let everyone know how special you are, i want to show how much i love you. because i do and.. that i don’t show it enough”

“you make me happy. you make me feel loved.”

he blinks, puzzled. specks of light in his eyes glowing under the sunlight peeking through the cracks of your curtain. “i do?”

“you do.” you give a warm smile. “more than you can see it. i feel it everyday. you don’t have to question it mash. you never make room for doubts and insecurities, i hope i never make you doubt yourself too.”

“i love you.” he says, breathless, misty pink dusting off to the planes of his milky cheeks. “i love you always.”

“i love you mash.” he presses his lips on yours as a gift, like a promise of the sun to its flower, like a reward for something you didn’t think it meant a lot. when you part, you take mash without the doubts nestled in his bones, he allows you to bury deep within himself, your dreams and his dreams and his love and your love intertwined as one. you say, “you’re a gift to me i don’t want to share with anyone else. i want to have you on my birthday and no one else.”

“okay.” you rest your head on his chest. feel his heartbeat in sync of your own. “you sure you don’t want anything else?”

“only you, mash, only you.”

notes & taglist @seneon teehee <3 I SHOULDVE THOUGHT THIS SOONER BUT WRITING THIS HAVE CURED MY WRITERS BLOCK INSTANTLY?!?!?!? MASH IS THE CURE AFTER ALL !!!

© kyoghurts ★ reblogs & likes are well appreciated!

[writeslikeanaria]

she made me do it

sebastian sallow x reader

summary: you catch your best friend in his most intimate moment and watch (self indulgent writing practice)

word count: 1k+

warnings: pervert!reader, self pleasure, gratuitous descriptions of sebastian, SMUT

You had a very tight routine with your best friend Sebastian. Being someone who held their own time in high respect, if you had a routine, you followed it. Which is why you always followed through with Thursday night study night.

During this time, the sun would have finally fallen past the hills in the distance, and the sky would have finally coloured itself a navy blue. Glistening lights in the sky above signalled that you had somewhere to be. Like clockwork, your feet carried you to the Slytherin boy’s dormitory, countless books in hand, with a satchel thrown over your shoulder, full of fresh parchment and aromatic ink.

It was always you and Sebastian, sprawled across the floor, textbooks decorating the ground like coloured tiles. Some nights, you would even drift off into a careless slumber as knowledge filled your brain. Ominous never joined you, as he himself had plans of his own, discluding you two, not that you minded. Spending time with Sebastian often gave you butterflies.

Which is why you were always so excited to bundle into his room and gaze at him as you worked. Sure, you harboured a docile crush towards the brunet, but you kept it to yourself, never speaking those three vulnerable words out loud. Even if you dreamed every night about his curious eyes, and luscious hair, and long, nimble fingers, attached to his toned arms…

This night was nothing different than usual. The sun had set, so you had begun your journey to Sebastian’s room, but as you closed in on his door, you realised that this night was so widely different from every other night.

Through the small crack in the door, your ears picked up on the gentle hum of Sebastian’s purring. His low voice seemed somehow lower and he was vocalising in the most enticing way. You couldn’t believe it; he was moaning.

At first, you assumed your good friend was in pain, but as you pressed your ear to the door, you realised you were wrong. Through the soft murmurings of his moans, you could also hear the squelching noises of wet against skin. You had no doubt about what Sebastian was doing in the room next door.

But surely you were mistaken, as Sebastian would never forget about your scheduled weekly study. While your brain was trying to sift through every viable reason why Sebastian could be making the most delicious noises behind the door, your lower stomach was pulsing, your cunt tightening around nothing, crying and whining over the lack of attention. With your body against the door, you quietly let your fingers dance around the waistline of your skirt, until it was resting just above your panties.

You contemplated your perverted desires. You knew what you were doing was wrong, but the devil on your shoulder had tied your angel in ropes, and encouraged you to enfilage in the dangers of lust. Rationally, you knew you should leave, and you even got to the point where your hands left your burning skin, but one small noise stopped your fingers departure.

“…Y/N…”

Your mouth ran dry, with all the wetness travelling straight to your cunt. You nearly moaned at Sebastian’s sweet confession, a confession you knew you were never supposed to hear. Every fibre of your being told you to leave, to forgot the beautiful noises you heard, and to respect the privacy of your best friend, but that devil wouldn’t stop persuading you.

Hovering over the door handle, you contemplated, before reaching for your wand and casting a short “silenco” through the lock. At once, the sounds stopped, and your greedy girl down below retaliated with an aggressive clench. You had upset the devil, and now she was taking control.

You knew it was wrong as you turned the door handle. You knew it was wrong as you casted a disillusionment charm over yourself. You knew it was wrong when you crept silently into Sebastian’s private chambers, but you couldn’t help yourself. As soon as you were in ear shot of his sweet noises once again, the devil was satiated.

This time, you could see the brunet in all his glory, and boy, did it make your heart flutter. Spread gorgeously across his emerald sheets, his bare, toned chest was exposed to the world, with a dim candle casting shadows across his muscles, accentuating the curve of his chest and stomach. A glistening sheen of sweat covering his body, adding to the look of lust.

His head was thrown back against his pillow, eyes clenched shut, perfect lips caught between his teeth and his fist worked over time on his cock.

His cock.

Oh, how it was a marvellous sight. Strong and large, the colour of deep scarlet decorating the tip, with pearly white precum generously pouring out. You licked your lips as your watched how furiously he beat his own meat.

“Oh- oh! Nggg—”

You could tell how he was trying to hold in his voice, but you couldn’t be happier that he was failing. The tension in his thick thighs was delicious to watch, as you took notes on the way he pleasured himself. You studied his attempts at teasing, sometimes slowing down his rhythm to slowly trace the underside of his cock, to take in massive gulps of breath.

How greedy.

The devil on your shoulder agreed with your sentiments, giggling to herself. In your ear, you could hear her whispering about all the things you could be doing to Sebastian right now. How you could have him at your mercy, whining and begging for you directly, as you licked up his thick cock. You could be teasing him, making eye contact with him, bathing in those brown puppy dog eyes of his.

Your fingers were now in your panties, rubbing tight circles across your clit, as your eyes were fixed on Sebastian and his task at hand. You tried your best at matching his rhythm, but you were indulgent to yourself, letting your own fingers filled you slightly, as you stroked your puffy lips with vigour.

Lost in your own pleasure, you nearly missed the way Sebastian’s voice elevated, crying out your name one last time. Luckily, the devil peeled your eyes open, allowing you to see the splattering of cum erupt out of the tip of his cock, coating his chest. His lungs were filling with air as he laid there in his afterglow, sucking in breath after breath. You removed your hand from your panties, not allowing yourself that same pleasure.

You were determined that the next time you would cum would be from Sebastian’s fingers, not your own.

~~

haven’t written in over a year + haven’t written for hogwarts legacy before so i thought i’d get some practice in before i write my big fic idea.

coming soon: poly juice + ominis + sebastian

[runningupthatvecna]

i saw this post of eddie recently and it gave me so many (majorly self-indulgent) ideas which is why i couldn't stop myself with this and– nghhh rrrrr

eddie x plussize!fem!reader

warnings/tags: 18+ only! smut, oral (m receiving), plus size!reader and the issues that might come with growing up without male validation, established but relatively new relationship, softdom!eddie, unprotected piv (reader takes birth control but it's not mentioned), pet names (baby, sweetheart, darling), heavy dirty talk, eddie is down baaaad for reader, fluff at the end, inexperienced!reader if you squint, no mentions of y/n, no plot, just loads of filth basically oops don't look at me i got slightly carried away

Greedy and needy hands run down his torso, over the denim of his vest, they sneak underneath his worn out hellfire shirt, soft fingertips dancing over the heated skin of his waist, soft expanse of his belly, the back of an index slowly feeling its way south.

You don't know where your confidence is coming from, maybe it's transpiring into your own skin from the way your man's breath is a burning hot sensation on your neck, unmistakable consequence of your actions, the feeling of his heaving chest against your own.

A promise that he's right here because he wants to be. He really, really does.

His eyes are closed, brows furrowed and his lips are parted, making way for a symphony of sweet sounds he's about to make for your ears to hear, entirely focusing on you and you and you only, and whatever it is that you're about to do to him.

You, who's got his head spinning every time you're around. You, who's the only thing Eddie can think about ever since he worked up the courage to approach you at Steve Harrington's last party. You're the epitome of his wildest dreams, someone he still couldn't believe he deserved.

But god, you think, does he deserve you.

He lets out the sweetest moan-ish sigh when your index curls into the waistband of his boxers, both of your hearts blooming with anticipation, and your plush hip presses against the hardness that has started forming ever since you – totally on accident – brushed the back of your hand against his thigh as you had walked past him in the hallway of his uncle's trailer.

He's been half hard since then, eyeing your every move from the couch in the living room, darkened doe scanning over every curve and dip and valley and hill of your landscape as you were getting yourselves drinks.

Lips attached to his neck now, you're reveling in how reactive, vocal and pliant he's becoming under your touch as a desperate grunt escapes him at the feeling of you doing things.

"Shit, baby, need you so bad", he pants as you finally cup the evident excitement through the denim of his black jeans.

With a smile you look up from sucking a bruise into his the side of his neck, just to find his half-lidded dark brown eyes, incredibly lustful gaze set on you.

It flusters you to no end, having this effect on him. It's not something you're used to at all, it's a foreign concept, even strange if you're honest, but you're letting it happen. Accept it, slowly, because deep down, you really want to have that effect on him.

You're starved after all.

-----

Your pink lips finally close around his even pinker tip, the mix of your saliva and his precum running down your chin in tears.

All Eddie can see, can focus on, is you on your knees in front of him, with the sincerest intention to make him feel good. Yeah, he's been dreaming of this, of seeing you like this, of feeling you like this for a generous amount of time.

You've already taken your time transforming the skin over his hips into a field of gradients from light red to deep purple, and with every pop of your lips leaving him, he'd whimpered your name under his breath, eyes fluttered close, lips parted, his beautiful face pulled into an expression for the books.

You suck on the tip for a few moments, causing his hand to fly into your hair trying to keep you where he needs you most. One of yours is resting on his thigh, while the other comes up to cup his balls.

"Fuck, baby, s-so good", he murmurs as he quickly opens his eyes and his other hand comes down to cup yours over his heavy hang.

He wants to teach you, let you know, show you exactly how he likes it, since it's your first time sucking him off. It's endearing you think, and incredibly sweet. He wants you to learn him, and not in a demanding way, but more with a desperate and gentle undertone. Eddie's palm on the back of your hand is a welcome burning sensation to you, his kind understanding for your inexperience blooms between your two body parts, causing the same heat to rush all the way into your cheeks at his sweetness.

He wants to feel the wetness of your mouth around his length, taking him in as far as physics allow you, he wants to feel your throat constricting around him as he makes you swallow everything he has to offer.

You're lost for words, and not only because you're physically unable to form any sentence with how his cock is stuffing your eager mouth, but also because seeing him experience so much pleasure from doing this with you is something you'd never expected.

And suddenly, he grabs your chin and pulls you up to your feet.

"Gonna cum if you keep doing that, baby", he clarifies with a chuckle, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips as he cups your ass, "gonna let me take care of you too?"

Eddie's leaning down to look at you from under his bangs, hopeful doe eyes and this fucking dimpled smile making you melt to your core.

It sends a shiver through your system, hearing someone prioritize you, hearing someone care about you and your needs enough to go this far with you.

Your mouth cracks into a smile.

"Make me feel good, then."

-----

Eddie trails the softness of his plushy lips over your shoulder up up up, brushes a strand of hair away with his nose rubbing along the skin. He needs to make room, room because he knows that he is going to need to sink his teeth into the nape of your neck soon, the junction that's already bruised, marked in soft shades of red from earlier.

You hear the deep groan from behind you as you feel his tip softly touch your outer labia, carefully breaching its way between as he grabs his hard cock and slowly rubs down and then up again, catching your preciously hidden clit deliciously on its way, forcing a whimper out of your lungs.

You're burning for this man – it must be that you think, because you're indeed letting him feel you – hell, even see you like this, a vulnerable state you thought you would never let anyone see you in. Until Eddie came along, proving to you over and over again that he was worth letting your guard down. That he was going to be just what you needed. His gentlest, warmest, softest – for you.

The sound of him slowly pushing into your sopping warmth is so sinful, stretching you open on his pulsing cock and causing you to gasp at the feeling of getting filled.

Eddie himself is furrowing his brows, parting his lips and closing his eyes, his warm breath tickling down your neck from behind. The feeling of having your thick cunt wrapped around him entirely again is driving him mad to no end.

It only takes a few slow thrusts for a creamy ring to form at his base already, the schlicky sound and Eddie's low groans and your own moans the only thing your ears are able to take in.

"Oh god, babybabybaby, s-so fucking tight, mhhhhh", he babbles out under whimpers of his own, fingers gripping and digging into the supple flesh of your hips to pull you back onto his soaked cock repeatedly.

"Only for you Eddie", you manage to get out, shortly followed by more whimpers and louder squelching as he gently picks up speed. Your back arches as Eddie presses his plump rosy lips to your neck,

"Yeah baby? You're this wet– fuck, just– fuuuuck .. –just for me?"

"Mhh-hm", you hum in agreement over the slapping sounds of his hips against your ass before your jaw falls open and your back arches even further as Eddie wraps his arms around you just for one hand of his to find your tits, pinching and rolling one of your nipples between his ringed fingers, while the other wanders south to help you along.

It's all so much, almost too much, and it's sending you straight towards your desired destination.

"S'good, feels s-so good baby, mhh yes", slips past your lips, one of your hands goes up to tangle itself in Eddie's mess of a curly mane, the other has already found his sticky palm that he eagerly buried between your thighs, repeating his own gesture of showing you.

"Yeah? Been dreaming of this pretty cunt for the whole week darling", Eddie paused as you let out another whimper at his admission, "god, you're so f-fucking hot", he mouthes at your shoulder, admiring how truly fucked out and needy you are for him.

Goosebumps spread over your arms, your legs, even your back at his words, his sultry praise laying bare on every inch of your sweaty skin.

He'd probably been fisting his hardness to the thought of your sopping heat every morning and every night of the last days in which you didn't have the chance of seeing each other, and the thought of him thinking of you, especially in this context, is more than enough to help bringing you closer.

His thrusts become sloppier, a sign he's nearing his own sticky-sweet release, amplified and sped up by the flow of his name coming over your lips.

"Mhh, wanna cum Eddie, please– oh fuck, please."

"Oh shit, yeah baby, yes – god yes, soak this cock for me like the good girl that you are."

He bites into your shoulder to hold back, he's so damn close but he wouldn't dare to come before you, his own desire and the determination to make you feel good making his fingers that are still rubbing your sensitive bud continue at the same exact speed all while his cock is being buried deep inside you over and over again, hitting every place you need him to touch.

And there you are, flashes of white appear beneath your eyelids as he continues to pound into your creamy hole, the grunts and groans escaping him enough to push you over the edge. You're surprised at yourself – though you had plenty of experience doing it solo – about your own capabilities of cumming this hard.

Your head falls back on Eddie's shoulder, you feel your pussy clench and flutter around him as he finally lets go with a grunt of your name surrounded by "fuck, baby"'s and soft whimpers, stuffing you full of his cum.

A laugh rumbles through his chest as you're both coming down, his hand on your clit finds your own, guiding it upwards and placing it on your belly along with his other arm that had been a great help in holding you steady against him just moments ago.

Wrapped up in him, you're fighting the familiar urge to leave his grasp and hide back underneath your clothes, which at the same time sounds absurd to you since you'd just let him rail you silly, it's real nonetheless.

Stirring you out of it, Eddie's hot tongue comes out to lick a broad stripe up the side of your neck, relishing in the taste of you, "now that was something else baby, holy shit", he then nuzzles against your cheek as he presses you closer into his body.

Still panting from your blissful high, you swallow and nod against his face, breath hot on your cheek.

The next thing he says melts you.

"You're so soft, I fucking love you, sweetheart", a warm hand comes up to your other cheek, turning your face towards his gently, the dark brown ocean in his eyes finding yours and you're mere milliseconds away from getting lost in it.

He bumps his nose against yours, a gesture so sickeningly sweet it makes your heart nearly burst, showing him with a wide smile and a soft "I love you too", before his lips land back on yours, and you welcome his tongue with pleasure.

You feel his thumb brush back and forth over the heated skin of your plush cheek, a low moan transpiring from his lungs into your own.

Without breaking away, Eddie draws his hips back just to slowly give you one more gentle thrust. Your fucked raw cunt clenches around him yet again, still sensitive, and you start to realise he's already hard again just from kissing you. And, maybe also, feeling your mixed cum drip down both of your thighs.

Eddie bottoms out once more, mumbling one more thing against your lips, as his grip on your cheek and belly tightens, not intending to let you go any time soon,

"the lonely days are over, sweetness."

-----

[hitomisuzuya]

Hello! I've been lurking around for a while and I really enjoy how you write Scaramouche/Wanderer! If it's not much to request, how do you think the Wanderer would comfort fem! Reader who's quite emotionally sensitive and gets hurt by his rude/sarcastic manner of speech? I hate that sometimes, I don't feel like I deserve to self-ship with this character because I'm like: goddamn, Scara, it literally wouldn't cost you your life to be a little compassionate and humble🥹🥹

Wanderer x fem!reader. Comfort fluffy fluff fluff.

Trust me, I feel you. I really do🥺

Wanderer had no filter. Not with anyone, or with you. He knew he really should with you. Usually, you would know exactly what he meant, you were that patient with him.

But sometimes, it got to be too much. The insensitive comment from him this time being, "What use do I for have hobbies, much less hearing about yours."

At first, Wanderer didn't know what to do. He would freeze in place, his eyes a little wide. The second he saw tears well into your eyes, there was look in his that was rarely there: fear.

Making you cry was on his list of things he should never ever do.

"That was such a mean thing to say, Scara," You brushed some tears away that fell from your eyes, "you don't have to rub it in that I am a boring person."

...Shit.

When you turned away from him so that he wouldn't see you cry, Wanderer didn't stop you right away. He knew you didn't want him to see you cry and he didn't want to see it either. After a few moments, which he spent internally kicking himself, he put a hand on your shoulder before wrapping his arms around you.

He pulled you back against his chest. "I'm a jerk, I know," He murmured into your hair.

"You are. You really are," You leaned back into him, making Wanderer visibly relax. You didn't sound mad, nor did it sound like you were crying all that much anymore.

In other words, he knew he was on the right track.

Wanderer was sarcastic, egoistical, greedy, and self centered. But most importantly, he was brutally honest. It was because of this attitude that you could tell he was sincere when he said things like this, especially when followed up with what he said next.

"...I'm sorry," It was said barely above a whisper, but you'd heard it.

You let out a soft squeak of surprise when he scooped you up bridal style in his arms. "Let's go to bed now, I've woren you out enough for one day," He set you down on the bed, pulled the blankets over both you, and held you close to his chest.

His fingers stroked soothingly through your hair. You sighed contently, curling into him as you settled into his arms. Despite the fact that you'd forgiven him, you kind of wanted to hear him say how much of a jerk he was again.

He needed to do that sometimes.

After making sure you fell asleep first, Wanderer decided to sleep as well. Sleep was a luxury that he could chose to indulge in if he wanted. This act also showed how much he loved and trusted you.