#tastes so exquisite. so divine

[satuwn]

there is no better drug than summer tomatoes. i be sniffing those bitches like i sniff glue

[dragon-ascent]

Headcanon that Morax can flirt like CRAZY...except he's not really aware that he's flirting; he's just being sincere.

You see him seated, practicing various styles of traditional calligraphy with dexterous strokes of his brush. When you move closer you realise, as your heart skips several beats, that he's been writing your name - over and over in countless elegant styles.

When you bashfully ask him about it, he responds - with a deadpan expression, "It is a name most beautiful; one that flows from my ink as easily as water in a river."

You subsequently roll around on the floor, not knowing how else to channel your poor flabbergasted heart, as your divine lover calmly continues his calligraphic endeavors.

He'd be creating Mora from his body while you're lounging around on the bed. The deity would sigh, "Ah, all the gold I make cannot compare to this leisurely sight of you at peace."

You stare at him agog as he blinks back at you earnestly. His golden gaze is more intense than the sheen of the Mora, yet his expression is mundane. It takes everything in you not to chew up the pillows.

One day, he's telling you all about his visit to Fontaine, where he sampled some exquisite tasses ragout. He explains how the warm flavors masterfully mingled on his tongue and left him wanting more.

So you ask him, "Is it the most delicious thing you have ever tasted?"

Your god doesn't even hesitate before his answer. "Hm, not at all."

"Then what is?" You expect him to name a traditional Liyuen dish like Adeptus' Temptation, or Jueyun chilli chicken, or...

Morax maintains his beautiful poker face. "I would have to say...you have the most enjoyable taste."

You promptly head to the top of Mt. Tianheng and scream your lungs out.

[rockingbytheseaside]

Hiii I really love the one with the harbingers where reader calls them words of endearment from their homeland, can you do one where reader cooks for them food from their homeland? pantalone's part was so cute <33

✦ You cook them their favorite home meal, based on their homeland

(Or trying to guess what food the not-yet-playable characters might like based on their region, culture, or language. ) 

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Childe 

✧ It is to no one’s surprise that Pierro, the Director of the Fatui, would easily drop everything to grant your needs. Just blink and the world’s spoils are at your feet, bestowed by your beloved. Expensive clothing, jewelry, art pieces, weaponry, or lavish dishes. With his money and status, plus being a connoisseur of the ancient lores of Teyvat, The Jester can easily acquire anything you require on a silver platter. 

But this time, it was you who tried to gift him something on a silver platter.

On an unsuspecting day, Pierro returned home only to be greeted with a strong scent of baked goods. The smell wafted all around the living quarters, warm and sugary. Glancing curiously, the Jester marched to the kitchen, where he found you grumbling to yourself. You stood with your oven mittens, a tray of voluptuous Kanelbullar presented in front of him; some were cut as you tried to take an analytical bite of the cinnamon rolls.

“Trying your hands at familiar recipes, my cherished?” - The man asked with a welcoming glance while you mulled and judged the taste of your cooked goods.

“Ah, Pierro, you’re right on time. Here, try this one for me. Does it resemble traditional cinnamon rolls?”

When the Jester took a bite, even his icy eye widened for a moment. A wave of nostalgia and warmth lanced his memories, ones he thought were long forgotten. The cinnamon rolls you baked were not the average confectionaries one could easily purchase, as the taste resembled traditional Khaenri’ahn Kanelbullar. A simple treat that all children and adults used to enjoy in their free time.  

“Well…? Oh no, don’t tell me it’s that bad?” - you awaited his response, but Pierro quickly shook his head.

“It’s rich and potent in taste, but not too sugary. Just like the ones in our Homeland… I didn’t think replicating such intricacies was possible. What did you add this time?”

Your eyes light up. Finally, some progress. “Really? I’ve been mulling over it for hours, I thought my taste pallet was going numb. I tried to find any local ingredients that might add the flavor of saffron and cardamon.”

“Like the golden Saffron…? They were a local specialty back in Khaenri’ah. Although some variants exist in Teyvat’s soil, they are not used as cooking ingredients here.” - Pierro pondered, amazed at your ability to combine other local spices to imitate the taste of the past.

As both of you mulled over how to achieve the most accurate results for these traditional Cinnamon Rolls, half of the tray was already gone.

“Although now that I think about it, my divine, I don’t think it would be an issue to send an expedition to obtain that rare spice for you. Especially if the result is such exquisite home pastry.”

✧ In this house, Il Capitano is the master chef. The man is proficient in the art of survival, thus, his skills in outdoor cooking are especially shown. From simple meat and vegetables, the Captain can come up with the best meat skewers you ever ate. Not to mention the topic of sustenance and growth is intertwined with a good diet. A man his size and capabilities puts immense care into outdoor survival and health.

But even a strong Captain deserves some spoiling for his hard work. 

After a wearying day spent honing the skills of his Fatui troops, a group of soldiers that will prepare for an upcoming expedition, Il Capitano was greeted with a surprise visit from you. You arrived right on time for their break, and as always, the Fatui soldiers couldn't help but eavesdrop on the Harbinger’s exchange with his beloved…

“I brought you your meal for today, Bife de chorizo. You need lots of protein.”

“Thank you.” - The Captain stood obediently, holding the lunchbox you brought.

“With Pico de Gallo and avocados. I also put some almonds and walnuts as a snack.”

“I understand.” 

“You are preparing for another important expedition. You must take care of your body after such intensive training, Cappy.”

“You are right, you are right.”

“And I don’t want to see anything left from the lunch boxes. Make sure to eat all of it, okay?”

“Understood!”

It sure was a sight. One would think the Harbinger was the student as he stood nodding vehemently while you scolded him. With one hand on your hip, you gave him an earful as you checked up on him, generously providing him a full-course meal neatly packed in a mealbox.

The Fatui soldiers were slightly jealous. Even they could easily tell that behind that pitch-black helmet, Il Capitano was absolutely joyous to have his beloved visit him and provide such mouthwatering nourishment. 

✧ Today, you were ready to tackle and kill Il Dottore. Why? Because that man barged into your kitchen and confidently announced himself as the culinarian for today’s dinner. A simple and kind gesture, right? You would rather starve than have The Doctor implode your kitchen again.

“Stop exaggerating as if I let your Serenitea Pot house crumble. It was just a little fire.” - Dottore defended himself, watching closely as you made him stand back from the stove. 

“I had to replace the whole walls, Zandik!”

The two of you stood in the kitchen, with the Harbinger peeking from behind your shoulders as you claimed dominion over the frying pan. The whole day, he was made watching you prepare Sumeru Kibbeh meatballs, since the last time he decided to dabble in the art of cooking, your house was put at stake.

He was a scholar, not a chef, unfortunately. But The Doctor is not ashamed to admit his impatience and lack of skill in the kitchen. Hence, he helped you as much as he could while you diligently taught him how Kibbeh is properly made. He remained silent but pleasantly subservient. The sight of your sleeves raised, hands tactfully molding the Kibbeh was oddly amiable. Especially when your face was so focused on the task, he couldn’t help but stare. 

Yet every time you fried the meatballs and set them aside on a pan lined with paper towels to drain, a sneaky hand would try to steal some. You’d slap his hand away.

“Nope. Hands off! Wait till dinner”

“They’ll end up being consumed anyway. I’ll just have a small tas-”

Slap!

And it continued for a long while, all the way to the end once you finished cooking. When the two of you finally sat down and began eating, Dottore would often remain silent. You were too busy relishing the dish, unaware of the Harbinger’s appreciation for your home-cooked meal. Sustenance is just a waste of time that the human body must go through to gain its energy. But it’s not the same when he is sitting with you casually, the warm afternoon sunlight wrapping the dining table, and the warm food steaming with an appetizing aroma.

For him, eating with you was different. It was simple, but it was home. 

✧ Scaramouche may huff and scoff all he wants, but when it comes to appraising your Unagi Chazuke, no master can compete with you. Perhaps because he is a puppet, but Scaramouche has a delicate pallet. He despises strong flavors and always preferred simpler dishes, to appreciate the unique flavor of a singular ingredient. He would never admit it vocally, but he would often crave your chazukes, and it was easily written on his grumbling face.

“Come on, just say it.”

The Balladeer lamented.

“Say it. My home cooking is the best, and you just want me to cook for you today.”

“...I won’t. I don’t have use in consuming any human meals.” - he mumbled in response, arms crossed. You sighed and with a wide smile, you turned away.

“Oh well. Guess you don’t want any, huh…? And here I thought I could prepare your favorite Unagi Chazuke today. But I guess it’s foolish-”

“No, Wait-!” - The Harbinger wished to bite his tongue but it was too late. He already called out to you in a moment of weakness, and your goofy grin only widened with his desperation. 

He gave up. With reluctant embarrassment, the Balladeer admitted your victory - “If you may… Can you prepare another one of your signature Chazuke? Please.”

And that’s how you two ended up by the dinner table. You couldn’t just deny him after such a heartfelt request. You prepared the unagi meat and rice diligently, showing him how to prepare green tea to add mild bitterness to the salted rice. Topping off with some dried Nori leaves, and sesame - two bows of Unagi Chazuke were ready and looking artistically grandiose.

Light and sublime, that’s what Scaramouche thought. A true definition of soul food, as he held his bowl and chopsticks close. A rare but sincere smile would always grace his features whenever he ate your cooking, but he of course would conceal it by clearing his throat.

“Hm, okay fine. Maybe your cooking is adequate after all. Especially when you don’t make it too sweet.”

You’d laugh at his reaction. At the end of the day, it was you who taught him how to cook what later would become his signature dish, even if his identity as a Harbinger was wiped away. 

✧ Being the richest man in Teyvat like Pantalone means dealing with lots of bureaucracies and business. Sometimes, after a prolonged day in the office, the sight of stacked papers becomes dreadful and negotiations with the Snezhnayan elites may go fruitless. Thus, The Regrator would often slum by his desk, removing his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose and sigh in exhaustion.

Now what would the richest man in Teyvat do to relax after a bad day at work? Go to the most expensive five-star restaurant? Perhaps purchase a fancy drink that costs more than his subordinates' monthly salary? No. He would head straight back home, where he knows you are awaiting him with open arms.

A single look at him and you would know he is fatigued. Leaning up to embrace him, you plant a tender kiss on his cheek - “How about I make us a quick snack, hm? You can go and take a shower in the meantime.”

Pantalone would try to conjure up a faint smile and nod. As he winds down for the day, subconsciously he knows your home cooking is like a balm to his soul. No matter how many exquisite restaurants he tried, he’d easily sacrifice all of them for a bite-full of your culinary.

And here you are, merrily handing him his childhood favorite - Mora Meat Roujiamo. A simple meat sandwich, but a staple street food in Liyue’s culture. That’s all the Harbinger desires after a tough day at work, as he gobbles the sandwich wrapped with a paper towel.

“Made your favorites. I added some extra meat since I know you like it juicy.” - you gave Pantalone soothing pats on the back as he ate up.

“You’re a lifesaver, honey. You would not believe how frustrating work has been today,”

Pantalone would rant and confide in you about his work. He would rather do that than delve into the nostalgic feeling that Mora Meat sandwiches gave him. It was indeed his childhood favorite. Yet it also reminded him how in the distant past, when food or money was scarce, starvation and desperation were his only companions as a lowly child. Thus, on better days when he acquired some change just to purchase simple Mora Meat - these sandwiches felt like a king’s feast.

Such an unadorned dish, but one that brought warmth and sustenance to a starved child, telling him that everything would be okay. Today, this starved child is the richest man in Snezhnayan. Nevertheless, he still relished these sandwiches from your hands like divine wealth, telling himself once more that everything would be okay. 

✧ Tartaglia was bedbound for some while, bandaged heavily after a massive battle he faced during one of his missions. The young Harbinger would never tell his family where his scars hail from, except for you and his father maybe. But after an earful of scolding, you took care of your reckless boyfriend and sighed.

“You made me worried, you know. I don’t want to see you move a muscle around the house these days, are we clear? You must recover first.”

“Y-yes, captain.” - Childe chuckled humorously, suppressing the soreness his cuts provided around his body. “It’s just… there is only one remedy that could save a fallen soldier like me.”

“Hm? What is it? Do you need something, Ajax?” 

“Please, dear… come closer.” - he said with a pained expression. 

You did so he could whisper to you what he wanted. Your concern was only heightened, oblivious that his dramatic words were playing you - “The secret to my healing… is…”

“Yes?” - you leaned even closer.

“... Some yummy food.”

You blinked at him, and Tartaglia immediately gained a comically “passed out” expression on his face, as if your cooking were his last death wish. You let him plop to the pillow and gritted your teeth - “Why you little-...! Ugh, you’re lucky I am worried about you. You just want me to pamper you.”

“Oh, come on, is that such an unrealistic request? You told me not to move a muscle and I would receive your scolding no matter what. Please, sweetheart, just anything you would like - cook it and I would happily gobble it up!”

You crossed your arms. You hate to admit it, but his puppy eyes were working effectively and if his appetite was returning, that means he is on a good path of recovery anyway.

“Fine… I’ll make something nutritious and easy for your stomach.”

Tartaglia's eyes lightened up in an instant. He was a simple man - if you cooked him something, he would drop on his knees for you instantly. That day, you pondered whether you’d make him some Piroshki or Borscht, but he needed something light. His health was your priority, after all. Even though Childe fancied himself a master at concealing his painful whinces, you are no fool. You always notice them.

Thus, your beloved was presented with Ukha fish soup. A warm bowl with fresh herbs, imported calla lily, and nutritious fish.

“Easy now, I know you like Calla Lily Seafood Soup, since you often had it in Liyue… So I decided to go with the local version of it. Now make sure to eat all of it, or you won’t feel better.”

Like an obedient child, Ajax felt pampered and delighted. Lunch by the bed? His sweetheart feeding him? The injuries were worth it as he happily ate the Ukha fish soup.

“If getting injured makes me taste food more worthy than the gods themselves, maybe I should get wounded more often, haha- Ow!”

Your response was another fistful nudge to his shoulder.  

Kanelbullar - in Swedish, Cinnamon Rolls Bife de chorizo - in Spanish, Argentinian beef cut Pico de Gallo - in Spanish, Mexican salsa/dip Kibbeh - in Arabic, bulgur parcel stuffed with minced meat filling (in Genshin, they just called it meatballs lol) Chazuke - in Japanese, green tea poured over a rice meal (Scara's signature dish)  Mora Meat - had to look this one up, apparently Genshin is referencing RouJiaMo (肉夹馍) meaning “meat in a bun". Ukha fish soup - in Russian, also known as fisherman’s soup. Childe’s signature Calla Lily Seafood Soup is probably a variation made with Gēng found in Chinese cuisine. But there is a Slavic variation that reminded me of his signature dish. 

[andersonfilms]

eighteen+, mdni.

jock!abby who plays soccer is so head-over heels in love with you, but she promises to keep what you have going just between the two of you. ellie’s your best friend and the two of them can’t stand each other but two months ago at some stupid frat party, too many beers and three joints later abby was eating you out like her life depended on it. you were too high, and she was too drunk but god was she fucking you so damn good. strong arms pinning you to the edge of the bed, as her mouth sucked on your bundle of nerves, before she would let go, letting her tongue soothe over your clit and you moaning her name like a prayer in the process.

jock!abby talks you through it the entire time, and she’s so stupidly pretty with her blonde locks falling over her face like a golden waterfall. her blue eyes are so dark, they’re almost gray and then she has two fingers inside you. they’re thick and long and she’s reaching places you can’t. still, her words making you whine over and over, your hips moving uncontrollably but she pins them down with her brute force.

“Yeah, baby, I know how good this feels. I’m so fucking wet right now from this pretty pussy. You taste so good, baby. I could just eat you up forever. Want me to stay here, crushed by these pretty thighs of yours?”

jock!abby nearly crumbles when she rubs her cunt on top of yours, clits nudging against each other as you practically scream. you know this won’t be the only time you stumble into her bed, you know the next time you’ll be completely sober because god, does abby know how to fuck. she finds a rhythm that’s good for the both of you and she takes control on top. abby can’t help but think about how perfect the two of you fit together, her thighs against yours but she needs a better angle. so, she lifts your leg and places it on her shoulder and you want to come right there.

jock!abby can hear your sweet slick against her, her thighs, god it’s everywhere. she wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve dripped to her sheets, not that she minds. she’s fucking you so hard and you can feel a shiver run down your spine. you want to stay like this forever. her pussy feels so good against yours. you know this shouldn’t be happening. you shouldn’t be fucking ellie’s nemesis but god, the devil has never felt better.

“Be a good girl, baby. Come for me. I’m so close just need to feel your cum on me, need to feel it on my cunt. Please baby, show me how much you want this. Fuck, baby, right there. Yeah? Such a good fucking girl. Fuuucckkkkk.”

jock!abby comes with you, and your body jolts as you feel her slick stick to your swollen lips, it’s so messy and utterly fucking divine, sending both of you into pure euphoria. her biceps are so big, and she holds her weight as she devours your mouth with hers. her skilled tongue staking claim on you. fuck she feels exquisite and her wet pussy is still against yours and you never want her to move. all you want is her sweet, freckled face and the nectar you’re sure tastes delightful as honey, tucked between her thighs.

“You did so well, baby. Now, let’s see how good this pretty cunt takes my cock, huh? What do you think about that, gorgeous?”

[fuckingrecipes]

Everyone's tongue is unique to them.

Everyone is going to have a different experience, tasting the same thing.

It's pretty well-known that some people have a gene to taste cilantro as 'soapy' or not. There are many other variants like that!

Some people are VERY sensitive to bitterness, and when they eat bitter flavors, they perceive that bitterness as far more overwhelming than someone who isn't sensitive. Children in particular are well-known to be bitter-sensitive. Dark chocolate, coffee, some types of vegetables, and other bitter compounds are revolting.

On the same token, there are people whose sense of bitterness is 'delicious!', so they REALLY enjoy things like mushrooms, matcha, beets, and other earthy flavors.

Some people are VERY sensitive to sweetness. Actually, your tongue can be adapted to sweetness, and perceive it less over time. Many people report no longer being able to stomach candy and sodas after cutting added sugar from their diet - your tongue literally changes how it perceives flavors, based on what you eat frequently.

Some people cannot taste major flavor compounds found in avocados, pomegranate, and blueberries. They'll say 'it tastes sour/sweet but otherwise like green water' - But other folks know all three fruit have very distinct flavors of their own.

Some people have trouble tasting the flavors in meat - My wife, for example, claims there's little to no taste difference between beef, chicken, and pork - that the only difference is in texture. Meanwhile I'm over here slurping beef juices off the plate.

And there's many other like this!

With that in mind - that our tongues are literally having entirely different experiences when touching the same foods... and also changing as we age, and based on what we eat...

There is no perfect food that will be universally good to everyone.

It doesn't matter how meticulous you are about cooking your steak, or folding your batter, or hand-picking only the freshest leaves on a dewy morning.

There will always be someone whose tongue is simply built different than yours, who thinks your favorite food is unpleasant to eat.

And that's okay!

Sometimes experiences can be unique and personal. A food doesn't have to be universally enjoyed to still be exquisite to those whose tongues can perceive it.

------

This is also a love letter to Durian, you sweet, foul-smelling fruit. Your innards taste like sweet, creamy vanilla-almond custard, but the gods have cursed you with a wretched hot-rotting-garbage stench to hide the divine dessert within.

You are beloved, beloathed, and banned from several forms of public transit. <3

[shegetsburned]

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐣𝐤 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | part i ‧₊˚ 𓐐

— ft. satoru gojo. suguru geto. kento nanami. toji fushiguro. ryomen sukuna.

𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨

normally he prefers to just eat what other people prepare for him, tasting his friends and students’ meals, most of the time.

but when he cooks, gojo doesn’t have time for shit, so I’m thinking of something simple but good. he likes to eat, especially sweet stuff. something sweet and salty, maybe?

he can do anything he sets his mind to, but is probably too lazy to cook most of the time, so he’ll just do the same two or three meals.

main dish; i’m thinking of teriyaki sauce chicken with some rice. it’s simple and soooo good. you can also feel the sweet taste of the sauce on the meat and it’s absolutely delicious.

you’ll have to close your eyes before satoru feeds you the first bite as he waits for your reaction.

i’m sure it’s sublime and it annoys you that he can always do everything just right. I mean, after cooking the same thing over and over again, everyone would excel, but this man has done it perfectly since the first time.

𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨

man looooooves to cook for you. you’re barely doing the cooking when he’s at home and it’s delicious every time.

he’ll learn new dishes just for you and ask what you prefer. he doesn’t cook for him, he does it for you, to see your smile when you swallow one of your favourite dishes.

it’s not extra elaborate dishes, but it’s cooked with so much love. the presentation is insane and it’s always exquisite.

suguru will find a way to make an amazing meal with the few ingredients you guys have in the fridge.

he’s definitely the type to add his own touch to every meal so that it tastes absolutely divine.

main dish; maybe a spicy ahi poke which is a spicy tuna bowl made with fresh chunks of fresh sashimi and a spicy mayo sauce. despite looking like an ordinary meal, its lightness and flavour makes me think suguru would be the type to cook this for you.

𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢

i have mixed feelings about this man because he used to buy the same sandwich from the same bakery for years. so i have a feeling he barely used to eat, especially being so occupied with work and doing overnights; less experience in the kitchen?

but for you, he has a soft spot and wants to do the best in everything that concerns you, including cooking. so he’ll learn his ass off in secret and surprise you with amazing meals.

he often prepares multiple dishes for one dinner so you can taste as much as possible. this man is hardworking.

main dishes; seafood salad + vegetable stew + temari sushi (their presentation is adorable, you’d love them) + a bunch of meat and seafood.

kento prepares everything before you come home, living for the sparkles in your eyes when you see the delicious-looking plates on the table.

𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨

honestly, he barely cooks for you. he usually just orders take-outs, and makes you pay.

I just know he likes spicy stuff. it’s always fuming hot when it goes into your mouth.

i’m sorry but this man doesn’t know how to cook. he just endures food or goes out to eat. i swear he doesn’t give a fuck about what he eats, as long as he thinks it’s good and enough for his belly to be filled, he’ll eat it.

main dish; instant noodles at best. adding canned meat and sriracha sauce into the mix. he’s lazy, okay? but who doesn’t enjoy a good old cup of instant noodles?

also, toji’s the type to shove the food into your mouth to make you stfu thinking you’re annoying because you’re hungry.

𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

uuuh, is he even cooking for you, or are you the one doing everything?

i have a feeling he’s crazy about meat. he needs some in his meals at all times otherwise it’s uninteresting.

so if he ever cooks for you, don’t be surprised to see different kinds of meat, and it is spicy asf too.

he takes pleasure in killing the meat himself, loving the thrill of chasing and devouring his prey.

main dish; roasted lamb shoulder with garlic. a whole ass piece of meat for the king of curses and you. he’ll probably eat many shoulders to satisfy his hunger and watch you take your time with the giant meal he prepared while salivating.

he’ll eat you after.

© shegetsburned 2023. Please do not repost/edit/or claim my writing as your own.

[swornbutch]

please princess, i’m begging you. don’t make me break my oath of protecting your sweet noble pussy, even from my own throbbing cock. you’re much too tight dove, i won’t let you jump in my lap and impale yourself on my heat. i’ll grip you by your pretty waist and hold you over me no matter how much you squirm and rock your hips for more of my length. my precious little masochist, i need to protect your wet slit from your own urge to tear and bleed yourself on my thick puppy cock. i’ll only let the tip spread your plump lips, kiss circles against the twitching hole begging to suck me in deeper. i won't let you shift your weight on it and force yourself around me… my apologies, darling princess.

the more you whimper and beg with your gushing hole, the more my resolve weakens. please be my good girl tonight... let me be gentle with you, i can give you delicious pain in other ways, princess. just let me spoil you properly. let me carry you to bed and taste your desperate slick, slip my drooling tongue inside your pulsating hole. let me get my fingers in you, princess, i’ll stretch you out nice and slow while i memorize the curves of your insides. is this where you like it, baby girl? is this the spot where your loyal knight belongs? i know how your majesty likes it, i'll rip one orgasm after another out of you to warm you up.

oh, princess… your grace’s cum tastes like heaven. please, i need so much more of it... sloppily lapping it out of you builds me up into a greedy frenzy, please forgive me for losing control… forgive me for defiling your precious princess pussy with my dirty dog rut. this big, leaking, loyal cock can’t wait any longer, princess… the taste of your cum is on my lips and tongue, it’s all over my face and up my nose, all i can smell or think about is your divine cum.. you’ve put a spell on me, your highness. i don’t even remember what an oath is. all i know is that i’ll die if i don’t bury my engorged cock inside your tight hole and pump ropes of my hot, treacherous cum against your royal cervix.

let me mount you and invade you, princess, your guard dog is desperate to pin you face-down into your lacy pillows and breed you raw. such a good girl... grip me with your tiny pussy skewered on me, milk every last drop out of me baby. i'll slap your adorable ass all you can take, until its swells up red and radiating heat. scream and cry for me all you want princess, is this what your pussy needed so badly? being fucked senselessly by my huge dick and leaking my cum like a whore? i deserve to be beheaded for desecrating your pretty pussy like this, but tonight you’re all mine, princess… i’m going to violate you til dawn breaks in your chambers, and i’ve filled every exquisite hole of yours with all my devoted dirty dog cream. please let me always stay by your side as your knight, your grace, i was made to be an eager hound at your pleasure.

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

I am currently in Vilnius! Lithuania is fantastic. You really can't beat old eastern European cities for having urban sections called Old Town that are the most stunning and picturesque places you've ever seen in your life, and Vilnius combines this with apparently about fifty trillion urban trees and parks. Fucking gorgeous place.

Eastern Europe is also incredible for food. Today we had a Lithuanian delicacy where they take rye bread and cut it into sticks and toast/fry it and then you have it with a sort of cheesy garlicky sauce and it is fucking incredible holy shit. Also a dish of finely grated potato over a layer of pork leg and topped with bacon bits and sour cream, sort of like a Lithuanian lasagne. Exquisite. Divine. Ambrosia of the gods.

Anyway my excellent Lithuanian friend Gabs has insisted on buying us a shit ton of Lithuanian snacks to try over the next few days, and I have promised him I shall keep a spreadsheet of my reactions to each. So! I'm recording them here:

Surelis: sweet curds covered in a chocolate layer, flavoured. So far we have tried the raspberry. It tasted like a bar of Petit Filou yoghurt and it was fucking gorgeous. 12/10.

Sula: a soft drink made from birch sap. We have tried one that is fruit flavoured, but Gabs didn't know the English word for said fruit. Super clear and refreshing tasting. 8/10

Grybukai: a mushroom shaped biscuit/cake flavoured with ginger and... something sharp. Citrus maybe? Super fun, super tasty. 10/10

Sakotis: cake made on a spit in a pleasing tree shape. A bit like a firmer dry pancake. Gabs recommended them with tea, I tried it with some chocolate butter. Very nice tea time treat, not too sweet, delicate flavour. 7/10

Having a whale of a time, Lithuania is gr8

[holybibly]

Tastes like Heaven |Seonghwa x reader|

Genre: smut, vampire au, dark romance

Word Count: 2,3 k

Summary: You taste like heaven and Seonghwa can't get enough.

A missing scene from "Divine Rosa" without any subplot. Seonghwa is drunk on pussy and that's all you need to know.

Can be read as a standalone.

WARNING: only!18+ Blood drinking, blood kink, pet names, explicit sexual content, explicit language, pussy eating, masturbation and more.

A/N: For everyone who wanted to get oneshot with Seonghwa. The original plan was to make it more plot-driven and detailed. But Woosan is a force to be reckoned with. Preview coming up next week.

I'm still learning how to write smut 🙈

"Take this off." Seonghwa ordered as he turned me around and began to unbutton the back of my thin dress.

His graceful, slender fingers pulled the silk down my curves until it puddled at my feet, sending a cool breeze over my heated skin. With a flick of his hand, the silver trays and heavy plates fell from the table to the floor with a deafening clatter. Before I could react, he grabbed my hips and turned me back to face him. The iridescent flames of the candles deepened his hypnotic features to shades as rich and deep as the stone jewel tones that dripped blood onto the wide collar of his kimono.

I didn't have time to enjoy his beauty. His demanding hand pressed into the space between my breasts, forcing me down onto the table behind me.

"Seonghwa, I..."

The anticipation of pleasure made my whole body tremble. I couldn't recognize my feelings. It was as if I was under a spell. It wasn't the first time he touched me, fucked me, drank my blood to the point of pain, and stars danced before my eyes, but each time was like the first. It was always Seonghwa. It was always he.

"I know, My Lady. I know." As he stood over me, he purred deep in his throat, the velvety sound licking at my skin and leaving goose bumps behind.

My head was spinning. And he hadn't even started to play with me yet. His fingers brushed over the folds of my pants a couple of times, pressing lightly on my clit with each movement, before he pulled the useless material away from me. His magnetic eyes swept over my naked body. I lay on the dining table, exposed and vulnerable to his predatory gaze.

He grabbed my knees and pulled them apart, lowering his head to my aching center. His long, silky hair brushed the inside of my thigh, lightly touching the small, inflamed wounds left from this morning's feeding. His cold breath was barely perceptible on my damp folds. I could feel the clenching of my pussy at this ghostly contact. The kimono slipped off his shoulders, revealing his sharp, glassy collarbones and the hard, smooth muscles of his chest. Even though his appearance had lost its primitive perfection, there was still so much strength in him. So much power, and I could see it flowing beneath his skin. I had a thirst for his touch, a thirst for the pain he could inflict on me. I wanted him to hurt me. No, I needed it. It was incredibly erotic, just like Seonghwa himself.

"Hurt me, Hwa. Bite me." I threw my head back so that my neck was completely exposed to him in a submissive way. He could rip my throat open with a single move, and knowing that made me feel wet between my legs.

"Yes, my love. I'm going to hurt you, and it will be the most exquisite pain you've ever known. I will give you the most beautiful death, and you will desire every moment of it—this agony. Now lie down and don't disturb me any more. It's time for me to enjoy my dessert."

I did as I was told and lay on my back. My legs trembled from the lazy, scratching caresses of Seonghwa's long fingernails on my thighs. A shiver of warmth and a new rush of moisture went through me as I realized that his dark gaze was focused on my most intimate places.

"Look at how beautiful you are." He whispered so close to my pussy that I could almost feel his lips touching the folds of it. "I will devour you, my sweet lady." Seonghwa was humming to herself.

My hips swayed to his words, and my breathing was punctuated by short bursts of wanting and needing. Propping myself up on my elbows, I watched his lustful gaze as he sat at the head of the table, ready to taste me as he pleased. God, he was going to ruin me. I didn't want anything more.

"Put your head down on the table, Sarang. I will punish you if you do not follow the rules." His broad palm pressed between my breasts again, pinning me to the table with palpable force. The tips of his sharp nails dug into my skin, and I moaned.

The image of Songhwa bending me over the table, mindlessly fucking me to tears and meaningless babbling, pulling my hair with force, and sinking his fangs viciously into my neck sent a dark shiver through my body. He was going to fuck me for twenty-four hours without stopping, taking one orgasm after another, until I was begging him to stop. Fuck.

I was ready to give up any obedience for that alone. But now that I felt his mood, I whispered obediently:

"Yes, my Lord."

My head rested obediently on the hard oak table, and I bit my lip, waiting for him to act. And then his touch slid down the inside of my thighs before his fingers parted my pussy lips. I whimpered at the touch of his breath against my heart.

"Please, Hwa, I can't… I can't take it any longer…"

Seonghwa stroked my left tit before gently rolling my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. My lips parted, and as my eyes rolled back in pleasure, I heard his velvety voice:

"Anything for you, my Queen."

His long tongue slipped out and swirled between my folds before gliding up to my wet center, and I didn't have time to bask in the caress of his voice. My hips instinctively pushed closer, wanting more as both of his hands slid down my thighs. This time they didn't just scratch, they steamed my skin hard, leaving behind a vicious bloody sweat. Seonghwa's thumbs pressed along my slit, widening it as he went to enjoy himself. The sound he made was pornographic, a deep, hungry growl I could feel vibrating through my pussy. I moaned loudly, arching my back and pressing harder against his face as his tongue entered my hole.

I reached down and ran my fingers through his long hair. I pulled the silky strands back a little. This only served to turn him on even more, and through the wet sound of the licking, I could barely make out his request.

"Harder."

Hell, yeah! It was an insane pleasure, something elusive on the edge of pain and pleasure, my fingers tugging furiously at his hair.

I couldn't resist looking at him, even though I was getting into trouble. His black hair fell down my thighs like midnight orchid petals in the snow, shimmering with dark purple flashes in the flickering golden flame of the candles. His perfect, plush lips pressed against my dripping centre as his hypnotic, feline eyes fixed on me. His long tongue licked the liquid that was leaking from me in quick, desperate movements. It was as if he'd been thirsty for years and only the taste of my cunt could quench this painful craving for satiation.

If I didn't know better, I'd have been under the impression that it was God himself who was on his knees. Or was it Lucifer? The mysterious lord of horror, of pain, and of the most unimaginable pleasure.

It didn't matter to me who he was, because Seonghwa was mine. And only mine.

"This is it, my Lady, look at me. Look at me as I devour this sweet little pussy." He grinned at me, and I felt dizzy. "Watch me feast on you; watch me taste you." Seonghwa stuck out his tongue, and a high-pitched squeal escaped my throat as the sharp tip flicked my clit as precisely and calculatedly as only fingers could.

"Ahhhhh..." I moaned. I could feel the long, viscous jets of my cum flowing down my thighs, sticking to the silk of Seonghwa's luxurious kimono.

"This is my beautiful lady. Moan for me one more time, my divine Rosa."

My fingers trembled in the waves of his hair as I felt each silky strand of it press against my sensitive skin.

"Bite me. Bite me, Seonghwa. Take all of me." I gasped for breath, my chest rising and falling in an intermittent rhythm between desperate pleas and long moans.

My body felt thin, light, and intangible. All the interconnected nerves, muscles, and ligaments quivered, turning my body into a musical instrument that shimmered under the constant movement of his tongue.

"Hwa, please..."

"We're almost there; just a little more, love." He murmured, the softness of his breath sending a gentle puff of air between the wetness of my thighs. "I'm so hungry."

The next time his soft finger slid along the length of my slit, my head snapped back, and the world became a blur. But as soon as I broke eye contact, the movement stopped.

"No, love, you were so desperate for a glimpse of me, so have a look. I want to see you collapse as I suck every last drop out of that lovely pink cunt of yours."

When my eyes obediently met his demonic stare, he grinned wickedly and playfully lowered his long pink tongue to my chin. I could admire the wet muscle and saliva dripping down, mixed with my cum.

"Such a good girl. Obedient, sweet babygirl."

Seonghwa lowered his beautiful face down to my pussy once again, and this time he took a deep breath in.

The sensation of his nose on my clit made my face flush red. It was a sharp pleasure that sent a thousand tingles through my body, as if I'd fallen into a bush of wild roses. So painfully beautiful. His tongue slipped out again, pressing greedily against my shrinking hole. The sharp tip slid in, licking the silky walls, trying to penetrate as deeply as possible.

I groaned and moaned loudly. Wet squelching sounds filled the dining room, and I was sure everyone in the mansion knew how well Seonghwa was eating me. Damn it, if this wasn't heaven, then what was it? The table underneath me was wet and cold from the large amount of moisture that had leaked from me. Seonghwa's kimono lay even lower, leaving her upper body almost completely exposed, and was only held up by the corset belt that was tight around her phenomenally thin waist. The whole thing was a mess.

"Sarang, you taste like heaven, like ambrosia." Seonghwa's moan was muffled by the sound of my pussy as I rubbed it desperately against his face. High cheekbones, plump lips, soft cheeks, all glistening with my excitement.

Even when he looked like this, with his face stuffed with my cunt, his hair tousled, and his eyes wild and hungry, Seonghwa looked like the most perfect work of art. I started to run my fingers through his hair again, twisting the strands around my wrists and pulling them back with all my strength. I was mesmerised by him, fascinated by the way the light fell on his bare skin, the sharp line of his shoulders, every firm curve of his chest, his abs, and his exquisite back that tapered to a slim waist. His long, wriggling tongue plunged deeper and deeper into me.

Seonghwa slid two long fingers into my hole as I watched him, like a victim drawn to a deadly snake dance. The action caused me to jerk at the unexpected intrusion, but I immediately came to my senses and gave in by thrusting my hips forward and pushing myself deeper into his fingers. This movement allows his fingers to slide in deeper, teasing me as they nestle their tips against my hot walls. I can feel the coldness of his fingers as my pussy clenches more tightly around them. I begin to moan again, my breath catching in the back of my throat.

My whole body is shaking, and I am already on the verge of climax. I couldn't think of anything else but cumming. The feeling of him is deeper inside me. The feeling of him filling me. The feel of his teeth in my flesh.

Oh fuck!

"That's right, my little Rosa. Take it. Cume on my face, Sarang. Let me get drunk." Seonghwa purred and pressed his lips harder against my hot, wet cunt.

It breaks me in half. The pleasure pours through me in a glorious flash of color that makes me go blind. I scream, my whole body writhing, trying to relive my orgasm, and as the overwhelming waves of pleasure slowly subside, I feel it—his fangs stinging my flesh.

The sensation was more than I had ever dreamed of. It exploded and shook me like death, like life, like a myriad of exploding stars.

Wave after wave, robbing me of my breath and of any ability to think at all. His lips pressed greedily against my skin. I could hear his throat tighten in greedy gulps and feel his tongue licking the blood that was spreading across my skin.

Seonghwa's fingers continued to slide inside me. They clung to the trembling walls until it began to hurt. I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes from the sheer flood of emotions and sensations. His thumb circles my clit for the last time, and he pulls his fingers out of me with a lewd, squelching sound. It takes me a few minutes to catch myself before I start to think.

When my eyes return to Seonghwa, he is both terrifying and majestic at the same time. His entire upper body is covered in blood, as are his gorgeous lips, which also glisten with what's left of my orgasm. His eyes are wild and dark, as if all the sins of the world had accumulated in their depths. His hair is tangled and messy, long strands of it caressing the skin of his chest and his elegant shoulders. Our eyes meet, and I see a devilish grin curling across his gorgeous mouth.

"You taste like heaven, Sarang. And I'm still hungry for more."

[bloodandthestars]

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄’𝐒 𝐀 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐓, 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄.

— royal au, duke!diluc, fem!reader, smut drabble

wc: 661 I recommend classical music while reading.

The ball was exquisite. Each detail to the interior curated to perfection. The floors were polished to reflect the many dancing couples, the jewels of the chandeliers gave the room a golden glow.

But none of that, mattered.

Your brain felt like mush, you can’t remember what excuse he used to drag you into seclusion. What was it? Something about a stroll in the garden? Whatever it was, it worked. The duke gave your former dance partner a bow of gratitude, offering an arm to bind you to him. You gave him a smile, and only in the silent halls of the estate did he return it. A slow, elegant stride turned into quick steps the further you reached your destination. The two of you look over your shoulders, making sure privacy was bountiful in each other’s wake, before slipping inside the study you knew all too well.

The duke lit a flame to the fireplace, and if you weren’t mistaken, he did so with haste. He turned around, seeing the light highlight your beauty. You remember, in turn, catching his gaze, and finding red eyes bore into you. Your eyes go to his lips, you catch his glance at yours, and without a moment to lose— you both flew into a heated kiss. Full of the tight pressure of yearning and need. All of his stoic nature, his hesitance, devoured by being deprived of your touch.

You remember that much. But at this point, you can’t recall what color the drapes were back in the dancing hall. Your eyes were shut tightly as his tongue worked at your puffy cunt. He moved the many layers of your dress upward, holding you against the bookcase with a leg hooked over his shoulder. He pulls and kneads at the limb. It had felt like hours had gone by with the way he pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you. Each clench around his head earns a muffled moan from the duke. Neatly tucked crimson hair for the divine night was found in erratic tussles of your fists. You pull him in again with a twitch of your hips, and who was he to refuse the opportunity to taste the likes of heaven?

The quiet of the study filled with muffled gasps and short whispers of each other’s names. Titles be in the wind, long forgotten in the mesh of your bodies. Each praise was poetry on his tongue, recited to you again and again with each wave of pleasure. Stanzas of desperation for your ears alone. “No other woman could wear such a dress.” He speaks breathlessly into your ear. “But your bodice is incomparable to the pull your soul takes on mine.”

Your head lulls against his, unable to think about anything but him and the constant reminder to keep your voice down. A hand keeps you up right by holding your thigh, pressing firm fingers into its stocking. You hook it around his waist to remain steady in his rhythm. Each gasp that falls from your lips drives him further. Further he moves inside you, further he pushes his chest to yours with no space left. Around the back of his neck, your hands are tight into his hair and holding onto his formal jacket. Here, he could not hide from you, could not tear his eyes away in a moment of fear. He would look to where you both connect with blown pupils and eyes that poured affection into yours. Raw and bare in every moment and the next, he was not the Duke of Mondstat. He was yours.

And as you reach another taut pressure, you spill onto his lips in frantic mutterings that you’re his. He swallows them while in another kiss that leaves your head spinning. It’s there where your memory comes back in flurries of seeing stars. You remember his words exactly, how you both ended up here. He simply wished to taste the sun.

[sena-shi]

SAGAU but with Scheming Creator!Reader Imposter AU

PT. 1

*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You were going about your day as usual when you decided to read some SAGAU Imposter AU fanfictions on the internet. The plot does not provide you with as much satisfaction as you would want, and the readers' ability to exact revenge seems too — in your opinion, quite lacking.

On the other hand, you consistently maintain a nonchalant attitude about it. You are still going to go ahead and read it, then continue scrolling until you discover another fanfiction.

A retribution in the form of exile? You probably won't find this interesting. Taking your newfound powers and using it to wipe them off as payback? That is quite thrilling; however, wouldn't it be preferable to make them regret and bear the sins of killing their one and only creator for the rest of their lives?

The shame and remorse that would slowly consume everything within them until there was nothing left.

The vivid memory of them using the blessings that you bestowed upon them to dishonour your divine existence is particularly satisfying.

The effort that you put into everything to get them to the position that they are in right now.

The memories that they will carry with them for the rest of their lives of how they used everything you blessed them with to get rid of you. 

The SAGAU AU fanfictions you've been reading have somewhat convinced you that the characters in the game can actually hear your voice, so occasionally you open the app, play the game, and talk to each character as if you think they can hear you.

The characters with the most heartbreakingly repetitive lines would receive your highest praise and reassurance.

You would hear Zhongli speak his infamous voice line, “Osmanthus wine tastes the same as I remember, but where are those who share the memory?”

And you would always reply with, “If the universe permits it, I would be delighted to share a drink with you and listen all about the wonderful times you and your loved ones have had together over the years.” In the warmest, and gentlest voice you could muster.

It's possible that you've gone insane because those are only fanfictions, yet you still find amusement on doing it.

And then, all of a sudden, it was as if the heavens had listened to your thoughts and made the decision to send you to the world of your creations, directly in front of the divine statue they had sculpted just for you.

Specifically designed with you in both heart and mind. The very statue that they would bow down to and pay respect to, something that they would look upon with reverence in their eyes.

You, the one who brought them into existence. You, the one who gave them life. You, their one and only creator.

Who would have the audacity to imitate the appearance of our Diving Creator and to step foot on the sacred ground!

Our Goddess was right; now that she has chosen to descend to our humble plane, a great number of people will attempt to copy her and steal her divination while her body is still adjusting to the conditions of our realm.

“Ah,” A sound like a gentle whisper was coming from your mouth. You did not move from where you were seated on the ground, keeping your attention fixed on the floor below you, which featured the most exquisite carvings you had ever seen. A smirk grew on your lips as you tried to stifle the chuckle; perhaps it was a maniacal laughter that was threatening to break forth. Fortunately for their sanity, they were spared the trauma of seeing it.

The fake, as one could have anticipated, displays an excessive amount of caution.

You were familiar with those lines. Where they would straight out deem you as fake. Imposter AU, huh? Then you guess that there’s no need to negotiate. After all, all of them will act like rabid dogs and probably decapitate you.

You slowly lifted your head, revealing long, wavy, glittering white hair that had fallen to the ground and was streaming down your back. The color of your hair was the most pristine that any human being could ever hope to witness. And your eyes. If one were to stare into them, they would be as dark as the abyss, and upon doing so, they would reveal the universe that is contained inside themselves. It appears to be a reflection of the night sky, where stars would shine brightly in honor of the one who nurtures the world, one whom they would always protect and one whom they would always look after.

As their attention was drawn to your face, those who were entrusted with the responsibility of guarding the sacred grounds began to tense up. The eye that had the most loving gaze was staring at them, as though the person they suspected of being an imposter is connected with them.

The imposter observed them in a manner like to that of a mother observing her children.

Despite their threats, they saw how you continued to lovingly glance at them with a hint of curiosity, perhaps wondering why they are so hostile to you.

Seeing them come to a complete halt makes you feel amused, but you keep up the act as if you are a compassionate and forgiving divine entity. However, at the bottom of your heart, you secretly wish for them to be ashamed by the way in which they regarded you as a fake.

Are you too vicious with your thoughts? Maybe.

Are you meant to ignore all of it simply because they are completely devoted to you?

Then why aren't they able to recognize that the imposter, who you believe was probably seated on the throne and bearing the title of God of the Gods, is the one who is being deceitful?

Is it because of your appearance?

You maintained your position on the ground, staying perfectly still as you watched them patiently while keeping your amusement well veiled in your eyes.

The only thing that can be seen by them is a stunning woman who is smiling warmly in answer to their presence. Simply the fact that the woman was watching them caused them to increase the pressure they applied to the grips of their spears and swords.

The wind that was not intended to enter the enclosed place unexpectedly caressed their bodies as if it were talking to them—

Do not hurt our Creator.

The grounds trembled, as if enthusiastic and pleased to be blessed with your presence, that their Creator was willing to dirty their feet to step on the land. The grounds were evidently happy that their Creator was willing to bless them with your presence.

It's not even an exaggeration to say that the entire Teyvat, the first child of the Creator, is likely experiencing an incredible amount of joy just from recognizing your divinity.

The big and broad doors swung open with a bang, and the glances that your beloved and wonderful acolytes gave you as they heard that someone was copying their dear God seared deep holes into your skull. In all honesty, you would prefer to stay and witness how they will act from that point on.

My, my… You thought. Have their IQs decreased dramatically in the span of a single night as a direct result of the arrival of the real fake?

The holy grounds are far too little for a game of "hide and seek," despite how much you love to have fun playing with them. You can't wait to discover how they will deal with someone they have identified as an imposter like yourself. You are patient, and you will embrace everything they will give you.

You would counteract any evil intended for you with acts of kindness. You, in turn, wish they wouldn't let you down as the shame destroys them from the inside out.

After all, it's hard to see a mother being the source of any kind of harm to her children.

If they wish to hurt you, then so be it.

You wonder.

Who will kill you first?

Them?

Or yourself?

You heard them running after you as you escaped the place, which you didn't find particularly difficult. Your lips formed an unconscious sneer as you ran, not too fast, and not too slow. You want them to catch up to you so that everyone may play together.

And perhaps, if they decide to give you the performance you want to witness, you would forgive as any other benevolent being would.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

[loki-cees-all]

Ch. 4 - Hope Against Hope {Against All Odds - TVA!Loki x Female Reader Longfic}

Previous Chapter / AO3 Link / Against All Odds Masterlist / Next Chapter

Pairing : TVA!Loki x Female Reader

Summary : After you and Loki do the deed, Loki does a little soul-searching.

W/c : 4.7k words

Content / Warnings : Smut (p-in-v), angst (knife-in-heart), mentions of a future addiction for the reader (nothing specific is mentioned, and no actual use of illicit substances ever takes place), and Loki rifling through all of your stuff. It's fine, though! He has a good reason!

Author's Note : Apologies this is so late! It really, really got away from me, and I was absolutely struggling to get it done. But, it turns out I was just trying to do too much in one chapter, so once I cut it off at what was the halfway point, it became much more manageable. (Major shoutout to @infinitystoner for helping me with that. I love you!) Anyway, happy reading!

18+ Only - Minors DNI

⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ──  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰

Date : June 26th, 1977 [Sacred Timeline]

Throughout his thousand years of existence, Loki had witnessed a great deal of beautiful things. The golden shine of the palace he’d grown up in was the first; its light reflected brighter than the birth of a newborn star, shining down with a brilliance unrivaled to anything short of divine intervention. 

Every morning, he’d awake in awe of its splendor, and every night, when he laid his head upon his pillow, he’d wonder if anyone else ever noticed the terrible irony of such a gorgeous place containing the harshest of people. 

The exquisite gardens of Asgard had always been his favorite place to be. Carefully tended to and guided by his mother’s loving hand, they contained every species of flower from each of the Nine Realms - meticulously organized by the shade of their petals, and perpetually in bloom thanks to her seidr. 

It was the perfect place for reflection; he had spent many late nights in those gardens, wandering up and down the rows, taking in the sweet aroma of the flowers and pondering his lot in life. And during the worst of Thanos’ many tortures, he’d often imagine he was back there inside Frigga’s gardens - shielded and protected, and lost in majesty instead of in pain. 

And the stunning destruction of the Bifrost would haunt him for the rest of his days. The explosion’s light caught the shards of the Rainbow Bridge and almost blinded him, illuminating nothing but his many failures in the most glorious of ways as he fell into its wake. The Bifrost had faded into golden dust, and clouds of sapphire and ultramarine had swirled together beneath him, and it was so magnificent that he almost forgot about the look of sheer disappointment upon his father’s face. 

But none of those things, not a single one of them, could ever compare to the sight of you coming undone beneath his devoted tongue. 

Loki continued working, his mouth and eyes eagerly taking in the evidence of your pleasure. His hands gripped your waist tight, as if to squeeze out every ounce of it that he could, while his lips and tongue lavished your clit. He’d never tasted something so divine, and he never wanted your pleasure to end. 

You cried out his name like the holiest of prayers, and Loki moaned its accompaniment. He could almost see the light radiating off your skin as your back arched off the bed, and the blood in his veins surged with want as your thighs trembled against his ears. He desperately needed more, to keep you sated and satisfied in euphoria for as long as he could - but he also needed to be careful. 

Because as far as you knew, Loki was just another simple mortal - one that had a job, and a family, and paid taxes. A human man, one that played rugby on the weekends, someone who was going to die in about forty years - when he was actually the furthest from anything that even resembledbanality. 

Ordinarily, in situations like this, Loki’s seidr would be on full display - to set the mood by lighting the fire in the hearth and the candles on the nightstand. To keep the wine flowing in their glasses, and the sheets warm against your bare skin. To remove his clothing in a flash of green light, just so he could bury himself inside you the exact second he wanted to. 

And Gods, how he helplessly wanted to be inside you again. 

Loki hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since the night in the alleyway. It had been feral and hurried, dangerous and reckless, to take you against that wall and in public, but he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t the best he’d ever had. And it was so foolish of himself to think he could get by with only having you once, and so incredibly selfish to take you again while knowing what he knew about your future…

But even still, Loki’s cock ached underneath his trousers, throbbing in sync with every single beat of his heart. Desire coursed violently throughout his veins, mixing with both heat and adrenaline as he continued ravishing between your legs. He could feel you clenching rhythmically, your fingers tangling in his hair and your hips grinding upwards, and he could never deny you what you wanted. 

You were just past the height of ecstasy when Loki began to crawl up your body, following behind his lips as they worshiped your skin. He kissed his way up your belly, gazing up at your ethereal expression as your head lolled back and forth on the pillow. Aftershocks washed over you, one by one, and your lips parted with desperate breath and pleasured murmurs. It was beautiful, and perfect, and of nothing but sheer divinity. 

Loki kept his gaze locked on your face as he slowly kissed along your ribs, and your feet flexed, pressing into his hips as yours continued writhing. Your fingers curled tighter around his hair, a silent plea to urge him on, and he couldn’t believe that even after all of this, even while completely lost in the throes of ecstasy, you still wanted more of him. 

His initial plan had been to take you as slowly as possible - to savor, and to idolize you. He’d never been wanted like this before, and he didn’t know if this would be the last time he’d get to experience it. A lifetime of neglect had taught him affection was ever fleeting, and he should always relish it whenever it came. What little patience he had was quickly disappearing by the second, soon to be nothing but a distant memory of the time before he was whole again. 

Your eyes stayed closed as his name tumbled from your lips, and Loki knew this was the moment. He kept one hand clutched tight around your hip, and brought the other down to his belt, unbuckling it just enough to make a sound before his seidr dissolved the remaining clothing from his body and transported them to the floor, as if they’d been tossed aside in a hurry. 

He moved upwards again, and when he reached your nipple and pulled it into his mouth, you whimpered in pleasure and dragged your nails across his scalp. A deep groan rumbled in his throat and he began to suck harder, flicking his tongue wildly against the stiffening peak. This time you let out a sharp gasp, and your feet planted on the mattress to arch your back even more and press your hips against something, anything, of his. 

Loki graciously slid his thigh up to soothe the ache between your quivering legs, and you eagerly locked on to it, grinding your swollen clit against his taut muscles. You had been more than wet when he had gone down on you before, but now you were positively drenched with arousal, and Loki loved that about you. He’d never been so hard in his life, precum dripping onto your belly from the head of his glistening cock as the musk of sex filled the room. 

Your head tilted back into the pillow and your thighs trembled violently, supported only by your tiptoes and your upper back as another orgasm ripped through you. Loki cupped your other breast, his thumb circling its nipple as he sucked even harder on the first, trying desperately to hold back his own ecstasy until he was buried deep inside you. 

But that battle was becoming more and more difficult to win, and his equanimity was dissipating with each and every one of your breathless moans and whimpers. Loki moved his hands to carefully guide your feet flat, and then massaged your calves and thighs into relaxing as he carefully pulled his lips away from your nipple. 

As he moved closer, your hands shifted to cling to his neck, his shoulders, his arms. Anything you could read, everything about him that was solid and real. He wanted so badly to assure you that he was, to shout it from the rooftops that he wasn’t just real, that he was - in fact - yours, and that was the only real thing that mattered. 

Loki’s lips were on your collarbone when he finally coaxed your legs into position, relaxed but open for him. You were making unintelligible noises and your body continued trembling, but your hips kept rolling as he slowly settled his weight onto you and pressed his hips against yours. 

“Loki…oh my, God, Loki…” you gasped breathlessly, sliding your hands up along his neck to his hair, to tangle in the mess of matted and sweaty curls against his scalp. 

His breath shuddered as he gazed upon you, eyelids fluttering open and shut, and pupils dilated so wide to take him all in. His lips hovered just a touch above yours, inhaling as you exhaled, leaning in as you pulled him closer. He wasn’t running or cowering away, there was no fleeing or escaping. For the first time since the Tesseract had slid to his feet in the lobby of Stark Tower, Loki was exactly where he wanted to be. 

“Yes, my darling…I’m here, just breathe…” he whispered, dragging his nose along the edge of yours. His voice shifted into a groan as you wrapped your legs around his waist; the soft skin of your thighs burned against him, branding a reminder into his flesh that this was where he belonged, and the soaked heat between your legs beckoned him back home. 

The two of you were as naked as the day you were born - one born on Earth, and one born on Jotunheim. Dark green and satin sheets lay beneath you, twisted and tangled upon your bed. The air inside your room was almost overwhelming, a delicious mixture of heat and musk, and despite the very early morning hour, the city of London still bustled just outside your window, cruelly unaware of the magic that was about to happen above them. 

Your lips met again, and even though the kiss was just as hungry as that night in the alleyway, there was something else now with it - a touch of familiarity, of knowing and acceptance even though it couldn’t really be - not with all the lies he’d been telling, and the truth he’d been withholding. Loki kissed you harder, trying to push those thoughts out of his brain, and you happily reciprocated. 

As you introduced your tongue to the kiss, Loki cupped the back of your skull with one hand, and brought the other between your hips as he began to rock against you, dragging himself against your entrance and teasing you both into oblivion. Neither of you needed any further teasing, but he did it anyway, just to add the final touch of urgency. You whimpered and opened your hips even further, and on the next push, he was inside you again. 

Suddenly, everything made perfect sense as the entire universe opened up before him. Loki let out the hoarsest of groans as he pushed deeper, and your lower back arched even more beneath him. Your fingers curled even tighter around his hair, your lips fell from his to moan his name again, and you were so wet and warm and safe that he felt like nothing could ever hurt him again. 

All he ever wanted was to feel like this, and he slowly pulled himself out, just short of all the way, before sinking himself back inside. Your hips writhed uncontrollably as he did that a few more times, and Loki realized that you also needed the reminder that even if he pulled away or left completely, he would always come back to you. That he would never not be thinking of you, or of this. 

Loki was already ruined before he began thrusting even faster, and there was absolutely nothing that could have ever stopped him. He buried his face against your neck and arched his back more harshly, pulling all the way out before pumping back inside. Your muscles squeezed around him, and your voice was nothing but breathless and incoherent gasps and moans as you took him in over and over again. 

He snaked one arm around your back and the other around your waist as he moved faster, grunting and groaning against your skin as your fingertips scratched at his scalp. His muscles tensed as yours did, and he could tell by the sound of your voice that you were getting close already. His own orgasm was just seconds away, coiling around in his belly, stretching and yearning to break free as he drove himself harder, faster, deeper. 

The tension broke simultaneously, and you cried out together, curling tightly around each other’s bodies, clinging for dear life as you came together. Endorphins and hormones coursed through Loki’s veins as the universe came into being, with stars exploding and dust swirling to form the galaxies and planets and realms that could stretch longer and further than anyone would ever know. 

You clung so tightly to him during it all, as if you could see what he saw, but somehow he was the only thing that mattered. How could that be, that while an entire universe was being born, that the goddess of a mortal underneath could only look up at him? 

Loki didn’t understand it one bit, but he didn’t need to, because all he could feel and see and smell was you. His hips continued rocking, shallower now that he was absolutely spent, and his sighs were heavy in the crook of your neck. He was in total and complete bliss when you let out a choked sob against his ear, and it instantly brought him back to reality. 

“Darling…darling, what’s wrong?” he murmured, kissing your neck and squeezing you tighter. Had he done something wrong? Had he unintentionally hurt you in some way while lost in his own pleasure? 

He could feel you shake your head, even as another sob escaped you. He could feel the tears streaming down your face and coating his own cheek, but your limbs still wrapped harder around him. Slowly, Loki lifted his head even though he was terrified of what he might see upon your face. His heavy eyelids fluttered open, his blurred vision effortlessly obscuring the tangled limbs and sweaty skin you both shared. 

But when your face finally came into view, there was a smile beneath the tears on your cheeks. Your messy hair framed your face like an untidy halo - disconnected from, but still beautiful and fitting for the angel who wore it. Loki would never forget that smile and its tears, so happy and yet so sad all at the same time. 

“I don’t know why, Loki…but I’ll be fine, I promise…” you answered in a voice that was so floating and breathless and light.

He could tell you meant it, and it should have reassured him, but it didn’t. The image of that newspaper from 1983 suddenly flashed before his eyes, and Loki remembered the initial reason he had come home with you last night. 

⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰

Date : June 27th, 1977 [Sacred Timeline]

Loki wasn’t exactly sure what he was searching for, but that wasn’t going to stop him from trying. 

The sun was just beginning to encroach over the horizon, sending its rays over the city and into the bay windows of your high-rise flat. He padded cautiously into your living room, thankful for the plush white carpets between his toes to mute his exhausted steps. 

There was nothing he wanted more than to slip back into bed with you and sleep the day away, but he had to take this opportunity while he still had the chance. 

Loki could still see you, sleeping soundly in the arms of the duplicate he’d casted so as to not rouse any suspicion while he snooped. It felt so wrong to be doing this now, so soon after the night you’d just shared together, but the guilt of your future was driving him forward, egging him on and eating him away so badly he wouldn’t be able to have another decent rest even if he tried. 

And it was odd, feeling jealous of something he’d conjured to keep you distracted, and in bed. It was, technically-speaking, him…but it wasn’t him- and he was the one who desperately needed the rest. Loki hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since well before Thanos’ capture, since he had lived in the palace on Asgard, and he had no idea when he’d be able to have it again…

Nevertheless, Loki shook his head and rolled it back and forth between his shoulders. His joints popped and cracked as he stretched his arms up over head, extending and pulling and desperately willing his limbs to fully awaken for the task at hand. He opened his eyes wider to take in more light, and he filled his lungs with as much oxygen as he could muster, held it for as long as he could, and released it slowly through his nose. 

If anyone else could see him, they’d say he was stalling. Deception ordinarily came easy to him - Odin had taken advantage of that many times - but this was different; in fact, this was much, much worse. And he knew he wasn’t going to like what he found, but it needed to be seen anyway. He had to know if he was the cause of your future addiction, or if had already started before you’d even met. 

Loki began his search in the kitchen, opening up the cupboards and pantries, quietly sliding items aside so he could see any possible illicit substances hidden in the back. He checked on top of the refrigerator and deep inside the freezer for excessive quantities of alcohol. He even looked through the drawers of silverware and utensils, the mail on top of the counter, the pockets of your coats hung by the front door for something, anything, that hinted at your painful future. 

But he found nothing, just like he was afraid of. And it wasn’t because he wanted you to have an addiction, to be suffering silently and hiding your pain away from the world - he didn’t want that to happen to you at all, ever. But the more he searched, the more it became apparent that he would be the eventual cause of it. 

And if he did manage to find something, he could offer you the help you needed. He could take care of you, instead of hurting you. He could be of use for something good, instead of the destruction he normally was. 

From the kitchen, he returned to the living room, shoving his hands between the couch cushions and underneath the sofas. He flipped through the magazines stacked on the coffee table, and pulled the books off the bookshelves. All the while, trying so hard not to think about how he was going to eventually make addiction a reality for you. 

Loki could tell you were eager to learn more about him, to know him more than just as a man who kept you company at night, and it was getting harder to dodge your questions. He knew you would have more when you awoke, and it wasn’t that you didn’t deserve to hear the answers, because of course you did. You deserved everything happy and safe and beautiful there could ever be, and Loki truly wanted to be the one to give all of that to you. 

But Loki didn’t know what to tell you, because that had never been the truth of his reality. So what was he supposed to tell you? That he was the monster that parents told their children about at night? 

That he’s an alien being from another realm, who could travel through time and space? That there were different versions of every single person living within multiple universes, and that in 35 years his past self would try to lead an alien army to violently take over New York City? 

At best, you wouldn’t believe him at all, and at worse, you’d absolutely hate him for it…even if doing that is exactly what brought him to you in the first place. 

After the last book was slid back into place, Loki sighed and turned his attention to the living room as a whole. Everything was clean and organized, everything had a specific place to be and was already there, and absolutely nothing was amiss. Nothing and everything was wrong, all at the same time, and the realization almost brought him to his knees. 

Loki was going to ruin your life eventually; the only question now was how he was going to do it, and when he was going to hammer that final nail inside your coffin. Was it going to be as soon as you woke up? Was it going to be because he finally told you the truth? 

His fingers pressed into his eye sockets as he collapsed onto the sofa, rubbing away furiously as he pondered his options. Truthfully speaking, how much time did you two have left together? The Loom was still on the verge of total destruction back at the TVA; his friends were back there right now, working tirelessly on a solution while he selfishly snuck away to see you again. To coddle his own emotions and guilt, when none of that would matter if they were unable to save the timelines at all. 

And what was he supposed to do if they managed to prevent the Loom’s destruction? Keep sneaking away to come see you like a long-distance lover? Make up a pretend job for himself, never tell you the truth, and force you to perpetually linger in the liminal space between his crafted persona and who he actually was? 

Not even he could keep a lie that massive forever. You would eventually discover the truth, or perhaps you would realize that there even was a truth different from the one he was selling you. Maybe what the truth was actually didn’t matter; maybe what mattered was that you couldn’t keep living a lie, and that was all it took to break you. 

Loki leaned forward on the sofa, his elbows digging into his knees while dragging his fingertips down his cheeks and over his mouth. His palms pressed together in a silent prayer as his eyes roamed over the room. His eyes filled with tears as he realized this would have to be the last time he ever looked upon it. He would have to leave you, before either of you fell too hard - and maybe, just maybe, that would be enough to save you more than it would destroy him. 

His expression was solemn as he stood back up from the sofa. He hoped he’d been overthinking your expression in the alleyway a week ago, in the club the night before, in your bed as you’d come together. His heart broke as he prayed that you didn’t actually care about him as much as he already cared about you, that this would actually be easy for you. That you still had the strength to pick up the pieces and carry on with your life. 

As Loki turned to leave the living room, to start the long journey back to your bedroom and kiss you goodbye, his eyes caught the painting above your dining room table. His frown shifted into a smile, although his eyes were as distraught and disillusioned as ever. He stepped closer and pressed his fingertips across the frame, thinking about all the stories this single painting told. 

You were so unbelievably talented; every brush stroke had been as carefully placed as the belongings inside your flat. How he wished he could see this tree that you loved so much, and how he longed to feel the same kind of permanent comfort that it seemed to bring you even now. He’d never felt such everlasting solace in his entire life, and he’d even happily settle for being able to provide that kind of love for you some day. 

But it just wasn’t meant to be. And for now, all Loki could hope for was that your father or your friends could help you still move on. 

He reluctantly pulled away and returned down the hallway, training his eyes straight ahead to avoid the beautiful and happy photographs plastered all over the walls. He tried desperately not to look at the candelabrum on the narrow bookshelf. But of course, the morning light caught it, reflecting off the polished brass and right into his anguished gaze. 

Loki couldn’t help but pause in front of it, right outside the doorway to your bedroom. He could hear you breathing in your bed, slowly and peacefully, in the arms of his duplicate. You were so close, and yet so far, because he couldn’t tear himself away from the hall and its haunted reminder of his past life. 

He’d seen that candelabrum before, but he didn’t know how it had found its way here. Surely, it had to be a coincidence, right? That the asymmetrically curved pieces swung upright to form the horns of the golden headpiece he used to wear before the TVA had taken him away? 

Devil’s horns, the enemies of Asgard used to call them. The Dökkláfar of Alfheim had considered them omens of death, but it wasn’t in the same way they had feared Odin’s power, or his brother’s hammer. Those items could always be seen before striking down their enemies; their power was out in the open, demanding to be witnessed, and punishing for their disobedience to the throne. 

But by the time an enemy ever saw Loki’s horns, it was already too late. The damage was already done, secretly in the shadows and hidden upon layers and layers of deceptions and lies. His enemies were already dead by the time Loki finally revealed himself and his Devil’s horns, and their last few seconds were usually spent wondering which trick it was that struck the final blow. 

So what were they doing here, in this young woman’s flat? In London, in 1977, where he’d never been before and surely would never return to again? Surely there was no way you knew what they actually represented. No, it had to just be an unhappy coincidence. 

Back on Asgard, Loki had been repeatedly regulated to operating within the shadows. In his younger years, he had believed it was simply because that was where he excelled. But then he knew better; he knew that Odin had kept him in the shadows intentionally, that he was fit to exist in the light. And now, he was being forced to recede into the shadows yet again, to be nothing but a hopefully wistful and fond memory of yours. 

He had only just found you. He had only just come to know the caring touch of peace, and already he was having to give it back up. 

Another tear rolled down Loki’s cheek, and he quickly wiped it away. He let out a sharp breath, steeled his jaw, and stepped back inside your bedroom, not at all ready to do the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. 

⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ──  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰

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[vintageshanny]

Ode to Little Elvis

This is exactly what it sounds like - a love poem for my favorite package! 😍 When I first read about Elvis feeling embarrassed or self-conscious about certain body parts, I felt compelled to express to him in whatever way I could that he is so beautiful and I would not change a thing. I hope that it is clear that my intention is not to just objectify his body; even a poem like this is borne of a love so deep that I find it hard to even articulate it at times. ❤️

Your body is absolutely perfect to me, an exquisite work of art

But right now I’d like to focus in on one specific part

The part that drives so many of us crazy with each thrust and gyration

The part we refer to as Little Elvis with affection and adoration

How little or big he actually is, we’ll never really know

But I appreciate so very much each time he put on his own show

The way he stood halfway to attention when you danced in Girls Girls Girls

And flopped thickly against your thigh in Frankie and Johnny probably made some clutch their pearls

Your little swim shorts could barely contain him and his two friends in their proper place

And you’d think water would make him shrink but that didn’t seem to be the case

I wish so badly I could see him in person and admire his beauty up close

I’d take him in as deep as I could until your patch of hair tickled my nose

From the tip all the way down to his fuzzy base and balls, I’d explore and massage him with my tongue

Never letting up on taking care of him until you called out in ecstasy and I could taste your cum

To consume him with my body would be a feeling so divine

I’d do anything to please him and make sure that he knows his pleasure is also mine

I know you felt shy and nervous sometimes about his ability to please

But whenever he wanted to be loved on, baby, I’d get down on my knees

I’d press sweet kisses all over him and warm him to the core

And in case I haven’t made it clear yet, that foreskin makes me love him even more

To roll it gently back and see his sensitive head peeking out would be so inviting

And I think it’s sweet the times he couldn’t last long because things just got too exciting

While others may have made you feel like there’s some other way you’re supposed to be,

You’d never have to feel self-conscious making yourself vulnerable to me

Health issues and medication took their toll on his ability to function some of the time

But I’d continue to shower him with all the affection he deserved even if he couldn’t respond in kind

I’d stroke him and kiss him and tell him that he’s amazing in any state

Whether he’s resting or ready for action, I will always love and appreciate

No matter his size or ability to rise, to me he is perfect like every other part

Not because of how he looks or the way he performs, but because he belongs to a man I love with all my heart

Poetry tag list: @lookingforrainbows @ellie-24 @be-my-ally @thatbanditqueen @whositmcwhatsit @arrolyn1114

[wanderingxiao]

Whiskey, Leather, and Sex

Xiao x Reader *NSFW*

Warnings: unprotected sex, curse words, pet names, begging, slight mention of alcohol, reader is a female. MDNI! 18+

The scent of exquisite leather and bitter whiskey invaded your nostrils, the taste of alcohol on his tongue coming to intoxicate you to his touch. His strong hands ran up the sides of your waist, warmth spreading from the touch. Lustful goosebumps rose riddling your skin, your own flushed fingers gripping the sleek leather of his jacket. Sharp pointed teeth slowly etched into your bottom lip, tugging lightly before his tongue slid over your lips. 

“Xiao-“ The sound of his name rolling off your tongue so softly caused the man to shiver in anticipation as his internal arousal grew by the second. His palms rose, sliding over your bra before his fingertips firmly landed against the swell of your breasts. You couldn’t help but swoon in ecstasy at his touch. In a swift and fluid movement, he had your bra pushed up, letting your breasts bounce into his predatory grasp. With kneading hands, he squeezed against your breasts gently before sliding his fingers to ghost over the sensitive buds. “Ahh, Xiao, l-love you, love you so-“

“Hush.” He ordered sternly, yet there was a gentleness in his voice that made your heart accelerate and your cheeks flush with gorgeous shades of rose. Warmth cascaded down your chest to trace down your curves, defined fingers hooking on your pants and panties before the scent of whiskey invaded your nostrils again. “I’m sorry, forgive me, but I can’t fucking wait anymore. I… I need…” His lip caught between his teeth, his cheeks flushed lightly with his golden honeyed eyes looking deep into your eyes with blown out pupils dilated in lust. “I need to be inside you. To please you.”

 

“Xiao-“ Your lips connected once more into a passionate battle of hot tongues. Xiao swallowed your soft moans while his hands worked your lower half, pulling your pants and panties down without faltering the hypnotizing movement of his lips. The bed creaked under the shifting of Xiao’s weight, his hips coming to straddle you, pulling away and removing his leather jacket and undershirt. Scars littered his toned abdomen, a divine bird tattoo adorning his right arm, and piercings accenting his god-like face. He was truly crafted with the most exquisite materials to become this sexy.

Your hands traced his sides up to rub over his firm chest, enjoying the feel of his warmth under your fingertips. His rough hands came to grab at your shirt and bra, uncomfortably pulling them over your head to get you completely naked beneath his thin yet toned frame. His hands traced down your body until his fingertips dipped between your lovely thighs, golden eyes never leaving yours as he eagerly watched your expression shift once his fingertips made contact with your glistened folds. With a breathy sigh of bliss from your lips, Xiao’s fingers began to trace up and down your slit, biting the inside of his cheek at the feel of your arousal coating his slender digits.

“X-Xiao, please, hmm, please.” Your begging was too adorable for him to resist. With a clenched jaw, he sunk his fingers into your sopping insides, cock twitching in anticipation at the way your walls wrapped around his fingers, sucking his fingers in. Angling his fingers, he curled his slender digits to reach that blissful spot that always made your toes curl. The gorgeous moans that fell from your lips spurred him on, thrusting his fingers in and out of your cunt with increasing desperation, relishing in the wet noises your drooling sex made. “Shh, your doing so good, taking in my fingers so well. Do you want more, (Y/N)?”

“Mhm! Mhm, please, Xiao, I need mo-RE! Ugh!” God did your voice turn him on. Your voiced broke into choked moans and desperate whines as his thumb came to lightly ghost over your puffy clit. Your hips bucked into his hand, chasing the divine pleasure only Xiao could give you. You could hear his soft humming, thumb firmly finding your clit to rub precise and quick circles. The ecstasy was overstimulating, absolutely mind-numbingly amazing. His lips came to kiss along your jaw, the scent of whiskey once more intoxicating your senses. "Xiao! Xiao! I-It's-! Its too m-much...! Mmm!"

"So needy and desperate, you know I always take care of you, angel. Be patient." It felt like an entirety before he pulled his fingers out, leaving you aching and throbbing for more of his searing touch. His posted tongue slid seductively around the curves and dips of his knuckles and slender fingers, savoring the taste of your arousal on the tip of his tongue. "So good... Can't hold it in anymore." You could barely register his words, only perking up when you heard the sound of his belt buckle clacking open and the sound of the bold leather whirring through the denim loops.

His hands roughly grabbed your legs, pushing them open further to slot himself between them, pants pushed down just enough to spring his leaking cock free from the confines of fabric prison. A breathy sigh left his mouth, Adams apple bobbing lowly as he swallowed thickly at the cool air hitting his flushed erection. His veiny yet strong hands held onto the base of his throbbing arousal, a strong arm propping beside you as his eyes cast lower to focus his sights on the way his flushed tip rubbed up and down against your slit up to bump against your clit.

"Xiao, please baby, I need you." Your soft pleas and breathy whimpers for him made his throat rumble with a groan, applying slight pressure to your entrance before sinking it in, removing his hand to place beside you. His eyes remained focused on your barely joined sexes, slick already coating his cock as his tip ebbed in and out of your welcoming cunt. HE returned his attention to your antics-tied expression, smirking before he pushed himself past the tight squeeze of your sweet and fluttering walls. A relieved moan left both your mouths, finally feeling that full and engrossed feeling of lust being fulfilled. "M-Mmm, Xiao, so f-full... deep."

"It feels so good." His low groans were music to your ears. Xiao rolled his hips outwards before he pushed his pelvis flush with yours once more pushing himself as deep as he ocuold before setting a steady rhythm. The beds creaked beneath the shifting weight of your heated bodies. Moans flew from your mouth freely, no longer composed or caring how loud they were. Any whine, whimper, or lewd mewl was cherished by Xiao's keen ears littered with sexy piercings. "Fuck, its been so long... I, nah, I've missed you."

"M-Me too, Xiao, hah, me too...! Ngh..." His body loomed over yours, one of his hands grabbing your hip while the other propped himself on his elbow beside your head, moaning deeply into your panting mouth as your breath collided. You could smell his cologne, the whiskey he always drank, and the expensive leather of his jacket resting beside you. Everything was overwhelming. Everything was Xiao. His moans, his scent, the wet noise of your sexes meeting over and over again, and the firm snap of his flesh against yours once his pace increased.

A light sweat coated your body, your fingertips on fire as they dug into the toed muscles of his back, your legs hanging in the air on either side of him, toes beginning to curl as his tip smushed against your cervix without fail. A creamy ring began to form around the base of his girth, your arousal mixing, sticky smacks echoing as your arousal and his leaking tip overflowed your insides. With faltering movements, Xiao growled out a flurry of curses, and strained whispers of his emotions.

"Fuck, im so close, hah... I want to c-cum with you. Please, (Y/N). Cum with me, angel." His lips pressed against yours, sloppy and needy. His knees dug into the bed deeper, his rhythm disorganized and desperate, flushed and glistening tip hitting your sweet spot and the edge of your cervix with every erratic thrust. You could only cry and cling to him as if your life depended it. Your head curled into his shoulder, moaning and drooling over his collar bones, legs shaky as they wrapped around his body, encouraging him faster. "Xiao! Xiao! C-Cumming...! Mmph! O-Oh god...!"

"Cum for me. Cum all over me, damnit!" With a final deep thrust and animalistic growl, ribbons of his cum spurted inside your fluttering and spasming walls, milking him for all he's worth. You could feel the muscles along his back tense, shoulders arching to hunch over you at the euphoric climax of his release. You clung to him, your own orgasm washing over your body with loud cries and whines of sensitivity. He fucked his cum inside slowly, his open mouth leaving pants across your face as he rocked his hips through your releases. It left you both breathless, his body collapsing on top of you briefly. "S-Sorry... was I too rough?"

You smiled, and reached over to kiss his sweaty forward, combing his dark evergreen locks accent by dim turquoise out of his face to look into his honey-cambered eyes. "No, it was perfect. Just like you, Xiao." His lips curled ever so slightly, his strong arm wrapping around you before burying his face into the crook of your neck, enjoying your company once more within his arms. "Thank you... for being here." You sighed in bliss, snuggling him closer to you, basking in the warmth and comfort his presence brought you. "Of course, I love you, Xiao."

"Mhm... Yeah, I... I love you too, my sweet angel.

[flightlessangelwings]

Ktober 2023 Day 17- Praise Kink

Loki x gn!reader

Word count- 1.1k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), body worship, oral, multiple orgasms, established relationship, no use of y/n

Notes- I purposefully wrote this with a gender neutral reader cause Loki does not limit himself to any one gender! And who wouldn't want to feel praise by him?! And I will forever use "lovely" as Loki's petname for reader after meeting Tom Hiddleston at a con years ago and that's what he called me!! Prompt list made by me! Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is myupdate blog so please follow that too and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on my new fics!

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“Oh my lovely,” Loki purred, “You look exquisite like this.”

Loki had you stripped nude and spread out on your back as he ravished your body with praise and kisses and touches. His eyes were blown black with lust as he couldn’t get enough of you. You were an insatiable craving, but he would spend every day working to satisfy. It was a challenge that Loki was more than up to.

“Loki,” you moaned as you surrendered yourself to him completely. 

“Darling,” he kissed his way down your chest, “Your sounds are music to my ears,” Loki paused when he reached between your legs, “Now let me hear you.”

You cried out as Loki dove in, licking and sucking and nibbling every inch of you. Tears formed in your eyes as your mind swam in pleasure under his tongue. He found every spot that drove you wild, and he knew how to play you.

“Divine,” Loki murmured as he broke away, “Your taste is that of the nectar of the gods.”

That made you giggle, “Stop it,” you said playfully.

“I speak the truth, my lovely,” his tone turned sincere, “I could spend hours here savoring the taste of you.”

You whimpered as he dipped his head down once more and ran his tongue along every sensitive corner of your body. Your legs trembled as he hit the perfect spot and you cried out loudly. “Fuck! Loki!”

“That’s it darling,” he cooed, “Let go. Let me hear you scream,” he kissed your skin, “I’ll be here to catch you.”

Tears fell from the corners of your eyes as your climax hit like a volcano. You screamed his name as you came hard and you clutched the sheets for dear life as he worked you through your climax. Your entire body shook as wave after wave of pleasure crashed into you thanks to Loki’s excerpt tongue.

You gasped when he finally broke away from you, leaving you a heaving and panting mess, “Shit, Loki,” you breathed, “I’ll never get used to how good you are with your tongue,” you quipped.

That made Loki laugh softly, “And I…” he pushed himself forward to kiss your chest, “Will never tire of how lovely you are when you fall apart for me like that.”

Loki wrapped his lips around your nipple, flicking his tongue and sucking hard. You buried your hand in his hair as you arched your back and cried out in pleasure. His cold, soft hands kneaded your chest as he grazed his teeth across your nipple.

“Lovely,” he hummed as he kissed his way across your chest and gave the other nipple the same treatment.

“Fuck!” you moaned as you squirmed underneath him.

“That’s it, my darling.” Loki trailed his fingers down your chest until he reached your crotch once more, and as he swirled his tongue around your nipple, he pushed two fingers inside, “Fuck…” he echoed you as he pumped his fingers in and out.

“Loki… Ahhh…”

“Come on, lovely,” Loki cooed, “You can give me another one. I know you can.”

“Oh shit,” you tugged at his hair, eliciting a low growl from deep in Loki’s chest.

Wet sounds filled the room as Loki’s fingers thrust into you over and over and over again, hitting that sweet spot deep inside you. As he whispered incoherent praises against your skin, your second orgasm hit, and it was just as hard as the first. Your juices plashed between your bodies as Loki pulled every ounce of your climax from your body as he could until you let out a low whine.

Carefully, he pulled his fingers out of you and kissed his way up your body, up your neck to your face, “Are you alright, my lovely?” he whispered as he kissed your temple.

“Yes,” you breathed, blinking your eyes open to meet his gaze. Your heart fluttered in your chest at the look of admiration Loki gave you, and even though you’d cum twice already, you felt like you were about to again just from the way he looked at you.

Without another word, Loki leaned in and kissed you deeply, his tongue tangling with yours immediately. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as you pulled him closer, and Loki ran his hands up and down your sides, caressing your body tenderly. He moaned into you as he rutted himself against your body, and you sighed into his lips when you felt how rock hard his cock was.

“Darling…”

“Yes,” you interrupted, knowing exactly what he was going to ask, “Please Loki. I want you… I need you.”

He pulled back and cupped your face, “Not as much as I need you, my lovely.”

The admission caught you both off guard, and for a moment you stared at each other wide-eyed. But, Loki recovered and launched himself in and kissed you deeply once more. This kiss was more heated, more passionate, more desperate, and you held him close as he positioned himself at your entrance.

“Are you ready, my dear?” he asked in a low tone.

“I am,” you whispered back in a soft but confident tone.

Loki groaned as he pushed himself into you, causing both of you to gasp. Neither of you let go of the other as he rocked back and forth, thrusting his cock into you over and over again as your legs framed his body on either side.

“Darling… You’re incredible,” Loki stammered as he thrust into you faster, “So beautiful... So lovely.”

“Loki,” you moaned, “Feels so good,” you murmured.

Suddenly, you gasped as Loki hit that sweet spot inside you once more. He paused for a moment, watching your face in astonishment, before he pounded into you with fervor. More intolerant praise flowed from his lips as he felt his own climax quickly approach.

“Cum with me, my lovely,” Loki purred as he gritted his teeth.

Both your climaxes hit simultaneously, and you wrapped yourselves up in each other as you rode out your peaks together. Tears filled both your eyes between the pleasure and the emotions until either of you had any more to give, and Loki collapsed down on top of you with a grunt. Heavy breaths filled the room as neither of you wanted to move, and your hands stroked each other’s skin wherever you could both reach. Loki placed a series of light kisses on your chest as you let out a soft laugh.

“What is it, darling?”

“That,” you breathed, “Was amazing.”

Loki hummed in satisfaction, “That is was, my lovely,” he picked himself up to place a tender kiss on your lips, “That it was.”

[thetypingpup]

I beg of you, after your last bit about vampire Wooyoung I'm in a bloodsucker mood. Vampire Wonwoo? Cold, moody, not very social. But warms up enough around you to be so mean and aggressive with you

(gonna soften mean and aggressive a bit if that's alright)

“Come to me…”

Your feet move automatically as he beckons you in from the balcony. From your vantage point, you can look out from the highest tower of his castle, one of many places he lets no one enter, no one except for you. The scarlet sky looms overhead, the red hue brightened by silver starlight. You see his silhouette, created by flickering candlelight and projected onto translucent curtains. This realm is so overwhelmingly frigid, even the candle flames glow with silver light. You pass through the barrier of satin and towards him, a smile lifting your lips the more he comes into view.

As soon as you’re within reach his fingers wrap around your wrist, slowly, before his hand closes around it and tugs you towards him. You stumble right onto the bed beside you and you shiver, both at the breeze, and the lack of warmth you feel emanating off of him.

Wonwoo has always been a creature of few words, but his actions say more than enough. His lips and his hands tell you all of the things words fail to. The way his lips trail down your neck and trace your pulse point portrays the ravenous hunger building within him. He admires how you look in this dress with his hands, roving touches along your sides and indulgent squeezes where you’re most sensitive. He chuckles as you moan softly and succumb to him. 

“You, are divine, and you’re all mine.” His deep voice is rough with want, and within a flash, he has you pushed back and pinned to the bed, left to gaze up at him with wide eyes. His glasses magnify the intensity of his gaze, which hones in on your neck, right on his favorite spot to bite. In the next moment, his fangs sink into your neck, and the split second of pain quickly gives way to the exquisite pleasure that keeps you coming back. Gruffly, he groans as the taste of your blood overtakes his senses, and the scent of your arousal has him pressing against you. His hand sneaks under your dress, finding the apex of your thighs. You become pliant in an instant, spreading your legs for him, letting him indulge in you. Two fingers sneak past your panties and start stroking your folds, circling over your clit and making your hips lift off the bed. 

Your eyes slide shut as you sit back and enjoy, enjoy the pressure of him pressing you into the bed, enjoy the blissful sensation of him consuming your life force in such a carnal way, enjoy the pure pleasure of his fingers pushing past your folds and inside you. The breeze picks up, making the curtains part to let in the cold. Even the candle flames emit a distinct chill, but despite it all, warmth blooms within you. The more of your blood he consumes, the warmer Wonwoo gets too, as if coming alive the longer he salaciously indulges in you. His fingers plunge deeper within you, right as he picks a new spot on your neck to bite, the spot right beside your jugular. The piercing puncture makes you cry out in delight. 

He always comes so close to ending your dance on the edge of death, permanently, and you’re more than aware that he can do so without much effort. But he never does. He always remains on the edge, always keeps you just on the precipice, allowing you to feel pleasure and life to the fullest, like the final surging flicker of a candle before it’s snuffed out. Here, sensation reaches its height, lust swells at its most profane and profuse, and emotion becomes more palpable than the fangs buried in your neck. His visage is doused in red, both from the hue of the sky and the blood that runs down his chin. He becomes more frantic as his hunger and lust take over, and your head spins as a rush of sensations hits you all at once. His lips sucking harder on your neck, the lightheaded rush as he consumes another gulp of your blood, his fingertips pressing against your sweet spot and his thumb running over your clit. It’s too much to contain, so you don’t, screaming unabashedly and arching up against him. He loves getting you like this, getting you squirming and writhing while you’re contained in his grasp. His excitement is evident, and his hardening cock presses against your thigh, his hips rutting against you in search of sensation. You clench around him, feeling yourself drip onto his fingers, grabbing onto him as you wordlessly plead for him to ravage you the way you both desire.