#there’s a line in it about eyes begging for more but truly just wanting to own her

[queenbeewrites]

my doctor is a pervert 🩺part 1.

gentle femdom smut

After noticing him stalking her for a while, she finally faces him with ruthlessness and questions his intentions. And during playing and dominating his body, finds out that the doctor truly likes her.

Female’s P.O.V~

“Why are you following me?” I boomed, staring right into his astounded and fearful eyes, pinning his hands against the wall in an empty hospital room.

Tall, masculine, and fierce in features, he was the doctor in charge of my friend, admitted for an injury caused by an accident.

From the way he talked, walked, and carried himself, he always seemed very proud, confident, and dutiful to me.

But instead of my friend, an injured patient, he was stalking me every time I visited my friend, keeping his eyes on him, and allowing me a deeper view of his personality.

He was so much more than he showcased to the world, and I wondered what layers he was hiding behind that strong veil.

That is why I did not mind his obsession with me until he started crossing the lines.

He was doing the same thing that day as well; he was stalking me when I yanked him into that empty room and pinned his hands against the wall, even though he was taller than me.

The quiet boomed in the room after I questioned his behavior, his calm eyes turning restless, like his body, before he answered, stuttering, “No -- no, I’m not!”

I was right about him. He did behold something interesting about him. The thought of it churned my stomach.

“Do you think I’m a fool?” I questioned again, squeezing his wrists tight on the wall, and added, “I’ve seen you following me many times.”

His already astounded eyes turned fearful, wandering, his lips sealed together without a word, palpitating.

At that moment, he looked delicate and breedable, the absolute opposite of his normal demeanor.

“I bet you have nothing to say now!” I smirked when suddenly he squeezed his eyes shut, clenched his jaw, and blurted. “I like you!”

I wasn’t surprised at all. I was, in fact, amused and thrilled.

“Is that why you have been following me?” I questioned, watching him open his eyes and answer, “No. I don’t know why I did that.”

“You’re a doctor. You seem so in control of yourself, so manly and responsible, yet you don’t know why you did that?” I questioned as I released his hands and pushed him to his knees, watching his eyes get astounded once again.

Even through astonishment, he did not hesitate. He simply sat on his knees and looked hesitatingly at me, looking like a big softy in a doctor’s coat in front of me.

“Do you stalk everyone, then? Without a thought?” I questioned as I pressed the sole of my heel to his crotch, and felt how hard he already was, while he stuttered. “No - no. That’s not it.”

“Then why were you stalking me, if it’s not because you like me?” I continued, as I set my bag on the floor and applied pressure to his crotch with my heel, rendering him shudder and whimper so mildly.

He was relishing that way too much for someone like him.

“Were you trying to do something wrong?” I applied more pressure to his crotch, watching him whimper more loudly while his hands grasped my leg.

He looked ever tastier and sounded like it, making me wet.

“Answer me, doctor! You’re not saying anything, you’re just making these dirty noises.” I added and started stroking his dick with my heel, feeling his dick getting harder than possible.

“I - I wasn’t trying to do anything wrong!” He moaned, digging his nails into my leg.

“Is that right?” I continued and added, “then you might have been stalking me for this.”

I pressed harder on his dick.

I watched him moan with pain and bite his lips as he embraced my leg as if begging for his life.

The scene spurred my insides, driving the greater hunger inside me. I wanted to turn him dirtier at that point.

“Answer me!” I boomed, “You wanted me to do these things to you, don’t you?” I pressed again, watching him whine and moan from pain. “No!”

“Then why are you enjoying this so much?” I questioned as I lifted his shivering chin up, noticing the tipsy look in his eyes, “that means, you are a whore, aren’t you?” I added and felt his dick twitch against the sole.

“No! I’m a doctor!” He moaned, making me chuckle, and push two of my fingers into his mouth and command. “Suck.” While I continued stroking his cock, watching him instantly obey and suck my fingers.

“Look how quickly you obey, yet you claim you aren’t a whore. You even look like you’ve done this before.” I teased, while he denied it, sagely shaking his head, his tongue twirling around my fingers.

“Then why are you sucking my fingers like a pro?” I questioned again, thrusting my fingers into his warm and salivating mouth. “Only whores suck like a pro.”

His cheeks kept beaming red with embarrassment as I continued thrusting my fingers into his mouth, reaching his throat, stroking his twitching dick with my heel, while he coughed, cried, whimpered, and choked on my fingers altogether.

“You’re such a whore.” I boomed, watching him turn into a mess, admiring his heaving body, and I added, “You know your dick twitches every time I call you a whore. You like hearing that, don’t you?”

His dick twitched again, while he shook his head again, denying my allegation as his saliva seeped through his lips.

“You need to be true to yourself, doctor.” I chuckled and pulled my fingers out of his mouth, shoving him onto the wall, while I regarded his mouth dribbling a pool of saliva.

“You are a whore.” I boomed and strongly began stroking his dick, aware of his stimulating body.

“Respectful doctor, can you tell me, what do you call cumming in medical terms?”

“Orgasm.” He growled, shuddering like a leaf.

“Correct! Do you want it?” I questioned, and he nodded his head vigorously, looking at me with needy eyes.

“I will give it to you if you accept you’re a whore.” I conditioned, watching him thrust against my heel and quickly whine, “I am a whore!”

I felt chills run down my spine, pride taking over me while he growled, “You are right. I am a whore. Now please, can I cum?”

I faked contemplating, while he begged again and again until his voice turned hoarse.

Then finally I pressed his dick harder, watching him orgasm against my heel, soiling his pants like he was peeing with so much eagerness; his body trembling and his moans louder than before.

Quickly I covered his mouth, while he continued oozing out each drop he had in his ball, whispering, “What kind of doctor are you, do you want everyone to know what you’re doing here?”

He shook his head again, settling his trembling body on the floor, looking up at me with fatigue.

“I thought you had that fantasy as well,” I added as I removed my palm from his lips, cleaned my heel on his pants, and picked my bag from the ground, continuing. “Give me your phone.”

I dialed my number in his phone and petted his head, calling him, “Good boy. I’ll see you next time when I need a whore.” And left him shuddering.  

_________________

END OF THE PART 1

--- Love, author! 

Early Access to more smut and short stories https://queenbeewritess.carrd.co/

[ladycatofwinterfell]

Feeling so much pain at knowing I have the song for Louis but it’s a song in Swedish from a band with *checks spotify* 56 monthly listeners and the song itself is from 1982 and has *checks again* 2500 streams. Another one of god’s cruel tricks.

[tbaluver]

𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐊 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐃𝐑𝐘!- 𝐒𝐲𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

pairings: sub!sylus x fem!dom! reader warnings/ tags: MDNI, male receiving overstimulation, p in v, reader riding sylus a/n: hihi lovelies ! <3 this is inspo/ based on KNOCKING him out after we did the boomshakala freaky deeky with him in his memory (•̀ᴗ•́ )و enjoy reading ! special thank you to @ilovemitsuya and @deusfoundry for beta reading! MWAH ILY BOTH cr to the gif. @ilovemitsuya

“unfortunately i can’t give you control, not yet at least.” 

he said with such confidence, taking the lead with heated kisses and teasing touches that roamed all over your body. he’d simply lick his lips the moment your bra slips away, taking all his might not to absolutely ravage them.

delicious noises escape his lips as he swirls his tongue along your bud while he slides his index and middle finger in the dampness of your underwear. “tell me..what do you really want? won’t you be honest and tell me like you just did?” he gazes up from the valley of your breasts, his crimson eyes meeting yours. you could feel his warm breath brushing over your bare skin 

you narrow your eyes at him, shifting your positions and rolling both of you over effortlessly. from your new vantage point, you look down at him with a smug smile tugging at your lips as surprise flickers across sylus’s face. “i told you that a hunter doesn’t like being passive.” maybe he would’ve been a little more nicer with the teasing if he had known what he was getting into.

did his precious dove become the crow this time?

it was truly a beautiful sight to see him like this. laid down in front of you with his eyes hooded, his lips swollen, and marks littered all over his body. his muscles glistened from the soft glow of the fireplace mixed with his sweat and your saliva. it took you no effort to bring him his release after another. he’s a mess in your hands and in your mouth and surprisingly he was the one begging this time.

his eyes clenched shut the moment he felt your wet cunt wrap around his cock, squeezing him tightly. almost letting out another release in you, just from the sight alone of you on top of him. he wanted to fill you up to the brim and watch it ooze out once you got off him.

curses and groans fall past his lips from the absolute pure pleasure flowing through his body. his eyes flutter shut, rolling back as you bounce up and down on his cock. your pretty hands trailed down his chest, tracing every line and defined edges of his body.

he couldn’t stop cumming. each orgasm after another was better than the last. you would let him take a breather, making sure he was okay. “one more baby yeah? can you do that for me? make me full of you?” and with a lazy smirk and a soft ‘okay’ from him, you’d coo and whisper sweet encouragements before slamming your hips down back on his length. your hips would be harshly marked from how tightly he was holding on to you.

you’d continue praising him, skin slapping against skins fill throughout your shared bedroom as you both cry out of pleasure. with one final drop, you bury yourself completely in him as he groans out your name loudly, recognizing that familiar high again.

his thighs were drenched with your arousal and his own cum. it would’ve been easy to flip you over and take control but now it was difficult to get on top of you with exhaustion weighing down on him. you crawl slowly onto his chest, exhaustion weighing on you as you try to catch your breath. “how about i clean you up in the shower Sy?” you whisper softly but the sound of his quiet breathing answers you. you lift your head to find your nocturnal lover in deep sleep.

you’d smile down at his tired and marked up body as you bring the washcloth to wipe off all the mess on his body. once you were done, you curled up beside him, pulling the heavy covers over both of you. his strong arms instinctively wrapped around you while his leg slips between yours. bare chests pressed against each other as you join him in deep slumber.

[fatuismooches]

cor meum, manus tuas.

synopsis: After your illness strikes again, Dottore decides to gift you a failed experi-, a new companion in order to soothe your injured heart.

includes: dottore w/ gn! reader

notes: A cute fluff fic where Dottie gives you Foxttore and the pufflings as a pet (the blue monster creature from Nahida's fairy tale.) He loves you a lot. Really just pure fluff and Foxttore getting on Dottore's nerves. Enjoy!

For as long as Il Dottore had known you, you had always been one to suggest things that he had no interest in. It was a habit of yours, and sometimes he’s not sure if you’re being genuine about it or if you simply want to rile him up, as you usually do.

One such example was back in the Akademiya when the two of you finally successfully reversed-engineered one of those machines after a painstaking amount of work. It was arduous and tiring, but immensely rewarding. Oh, he had so many ideas and things to do now, but you- you had other plans.

“So, now that we’ve got it under our control, I think we should program it to have some new tricks.” Zandik had paused at your words, as for once that was a good idea. He wondered what the limit of such a killing machine could possibly be.

“Go on.”

“Alright, imagine this, it’s about to swoop in and land the finishing blow, but instead, a whole bunch of confetti pops out and-”

“No.”

“You can’t even pick up a sword properly. You know nothing about fighting like I do! Just hear me out, it’ll be a great distraction because they’d never be expecting that, and boom, that’s where the real attack comes in.”

“No.” (Later on, he found out that you’d programmed the thing to have a single flower shoot out, just for him. He swiftly removed it after you were done laughing.) 

Or when you had begged and pleaded with him to let you teach him how to cook, just once. It was no secret you were always the one on cooking duty during the Akademiya, for he had a severe lack of skill for it. Furthermore, Zandik had no interest in it, not having the time or patience for something just meant as sustenance. You, however, were insistent on at least teaching him the basics, for it was no way for a student to live (according to you.)

The slicing and dicing went well enough, but the moment you turned your back for a few moments, he had somehow set the smoke detector off, and the Akademiya’s dorm director gave you two a good scolding. You learned your lesson after this particular incident, but from your giggles, he knew you didn’t feel an ounce of regret.

Your antics were truly something he wouldn’t get used to. And now, over four hundred years later, your teasing nature had remained the same, only that it became more verbal as you didn’t have the strength to pull off your elaborate plans anymore.

Which is why lately you had been clinging to him with pleading eyes and a jutted lip, vehemently asking for a pet despite his numerous rejections, going so far as to try and recruit other segments (who, unfortunately for you, did not join your cause.)

“Please honey, my darling, my beloved, my-”

“My answer is not going to change, [Name]. I will not tolerate anything running around and causing a mess.”

“Aww, but come on. I know you love cats. I know you secretly pet them when no one’s looking. I know that-”

“That’s enough from you. Now, will you sit or should I strap you down instead?”

That line of conversation persisted for a while until you mostly gave up, only throwing the idea in from time to time with a hmph. But now, he was uncharacteristically wondering if there could be a solution to this problem. 

Lately, you had been confined to your bed and room, too physically weak to move around much. He and the segments had done their best, as they always do, to take care of you, but one did not need to be a genius to know that you were feeling down. Not only because of the aches your body gave you, but also because you were lonely for most of the day, seeing as his other selves were usually too busy to spend an adequate amount of time with you. Once again, despite his lack of care for the emotions and feelings of others, he could see straight through your feigned expressions of nonchalance.

Dottore hated it when you pretended around him.

He could raise the topic but it would probably make matters worse. Instead, it was much more logical to work toward a solution for the issue - the solution being a companion to keep a smile on your face, and your mind at ease. Now, an actual pet probably would be a hassle to maintain in the lab, knowing the kind of activities that were… well, unsafe to say the least, so he put that possible solution to the side for now.

Initially, he sought to create something mechanical, having seen the mechanical animals from Fontaine. Of course, his creation would be far superior, and it would be quite helpful with your condition and all. But upon further thinking, knowing your tastes… you’d probably prefer something softer, considering how much you liked to cuddle him and your plushies. 

It was a conundrum the scholar found himself in, making his darling lover happy was not something that could be so easily scientifically concocted like the rest of the conclusions he reached. It required much more than simply following the lines of reason. Perhaps that’s why Dottore often struggled with it. 

Yet he did not have the luxury of time to continue pondering, for he did not want to leave you by yourself for much longer. And so he continued to sit at his desk, his hands automatically filling out paperwork while his mind was focused elsewhere, still thinking about what he could possibly gift you. Something warm and cuddly with the ability to communicate with you to some extent…

That was when he remembered something he created long, long ago.

The memories of that creation came back to him rather quickly once he remembered. Dottore remembered every experiment he’d done, but some were just not very special or successful and lingered very little in his mind. This was one of those unnoteworthy results. It was no secret that he was known to… play around with the concept of life, ignoring the rules that guarded it so strictly… and it was this idea that led to the birth of a creature, one that certainly did not belong to this world.

It was a monstrous, furry black thing that hid its true self with some kind of suit, its lone eye bright and red. It hadn’t been the first time his experiments led him to the unknown, but this… was just something he didn’t care about at all. After a few tests on the creature, he lost interest rather quickly. It was the farthest thing away from the life Dottore wanted to toy with. In fact, he had planned to dispose of the thing, but the creature seemed to understand his words more than he anticipated. It quickly scurried away, creating chaos and knocking down almost everything it could, skillfully making its escape.

Dottore had contemplated searching for his odd creation but decided that it wasn’t worth the time or energy. Judging from the distaste it held for him, it probably wouldn’t come around anyway. So, it could exist in the far depths of the lab for all he cared. It wasn’t like this was the first time he threw things into the back and forgot about them. Now, he was rather pleased that he didn’t get rid of his experiment. He had known you for long enough that he was sure you’d find such a thing cute, for some reason. It checked the fluffy and easily holdable boxes too. His only question was whether it could be alive after all these years… well, it was certainly worth a shot, seeing as his solutions were limited.

The answer to Dottore’s question was a yes. It had unfortunately taken much longer than he’d liked to search the dusty rooms (although admittedly, he had gotten a bit distracted with reviewing the old things he dumped) but at long last, he had found the round creature peacefully dozing without a care in… some kind of bed it had crafted with a bunch of papers and black fur. It looked perfectly content… in all honesty, Dottore was a bit interested in what it had been up to all this time. Maybe it held more scientific value than he thought… 

Regardless, in one swift motion, Dottore grabbed the creature by the scruff of its neck and it immediately awoke, attempting to scramble away. Once its single eye laid on the man who so rudely interrupted its sleep, it blinked, before multiplying its strength to escape, even trying to scratch him, but to no avail. The Harbinger’s grip was far too strong, of course. Meanwhile, Dottore had already lost a bit of patience from the creature’s incessant movements.

“Stop that,” he demanded sharply, and the critter instantly went still as its eye continued to stare at him completely widened. Dottore smiled, which felt rather eerie and frightening to the oversized creature.

“What, did you think I came all the way here to finish the job? Oh no, if I wanted to, I would have done so already a long time ago. Instead, I have another use for you. Something that will benefit both of us. I’m sure you’ll agree,” he hummed as he turned to leave the room. But as he took a single step, he found himself stepping on something soft. Curiously lifting his foot, he looked down to see a small, black, round ball of fluff staring at him with a red eye identical to the creature he held in his hand. And then another came into view.

… And another. Soon at least over a dozen had popped out of the shadows, all watching at him with anticipating eyes. He had forgotten these balls of black fur were also a byproduct of creating the creature. Now quite a few had surrounded his feet and were hopping up and down, attempting to climb his pants, which he quickly shook off with a scowl. Well, it looked like these things were going to follow him regardless of what he said…

“If you all are going to follow me, be prepared to make yourself useful,” he sighed in exasperation before finally leaving, stepping on a few more in the process. (The usefulness in question, was making sure you’d be left with a smile.) Based on the odd squeaking noises the smaller creatures made, they seemed to be on board with the idea. 

—

When your husband suddenly presented you with a gift contained in a rather large box, you were a bit surprised. Not because you were receiving a gift, but because of the size of it. Normally, he would give you small trinkets and such, things he’d thought you’d like (that had no real purpose to him, retrieved solely for you. Yes, he was very cute unintentionally. You had a little shelf for his stuff.) But you had no clue what he could have possibly gotten for you that warranted the need for such a big container…

You had long discarded your book in favor of new entertainment (you were reading the same sentences over and over anyway), your hands gliding over the rough material. Dottore was looking at you expectantly, having barely said anything besides shoving the thing on your bed, with a simple “for you.” You couldn’t help but chuckle, your chest getting a bit lighter from the previously stuffy atmosphere dissipating.

“Are you going to explain yourself or leave me guessing as to what I’ve done to receive such a thing?”

“You have been lonely and tired, and I seek to alleviate your pain. Yet there are certain things I cannot always do, which is why I found a solution,” he stated simply, pushing the box closer to you as if it was no big deal. Your eyes widened as your jaw hung, speechless, before you sent a small, teasing smile to your husband.

“I… well, who knew you could be such a considerate man? Keep that up and you’ll make me blush.” You couldn’t help but heat up a bit from his concern, although he didn’t say it outright. And you didn’t really have it in you to deny his words too, he was right after all, you have been lonely and tired from being cooped up in your room all day.

“Still, I want a hint! Ah, it’s too heavy for me to even lift up…” You couldn’t guess what could be in here. “Could it be the latest new novels from Inazuma?”

“No, but those are on the way. It’s something more-” At that moment, the box slightly shifted and you blinked in surprise.

“Oh, oh! Are these new models of Beta’s miniature Ruin Machines? Did he finally make the Ruin Sentinels series?” In truth, initially, the segment wasn’t interested in creating such pointless machines, but after you oh so innocently challenged him to make them movable and fit in the palm of your hand, he took the bait and presented them to you smugly. Needless to say, you very much liked your little collection of action figures, and you were hoping he had finally made ones that could fly.

“No, it’s-” Once again, he was interrupted by even more dramatic shuffling, thumping echoing loudly from inside the box which made you scoot back a bit.

“Dottore, you sure whatever’s in here isn’t going to attack me…?” Your voice was more lighthearted than worried, but now you were squinting at him a bit suspiciously. Dottore’s expression remained unaffected, but inside he was the slightest bit annoyed. He had told those damn things not to move around. Thankfully, a sharp slap to the cover of the box caused the movements to cease, and he only smiled at you once again.

“As I was saying, it’s something you have been asking about for a long time.” He watched as your face turned thoughtful, fingers drumming when suddenly it became very obvious as to what it was. 

“Is it… is it what I think it is?” He found your expression rather amusing as he witnessed your eyes becoming sparkly with joy.

“Go ahead,” Dottore motioned and you wasted no time pulling the cover off the box, your eyes meeting a furry, blue creature whose lone eye gazed up at you curiously. You blinked at it, and it blinked back at you, but you had no time to say anything before some other unknown creatures began pouring out the box and spilling onto your bed, some crawling on your lap. This was certainly not the average pet you had expected… but you were not complaining. These things were the cutest - not to mention the little strand of hair on the top.

“Dottore,” you giggled at the fluff tickling your skin, “what exactly are these- oh!” Your words were interrupted when the larger creature suddenly jumped out of the box and launched itself into you, pawing your chest. You reciprocated the attention in delight, giving it numerous head pats and taking a closer look at it. Most of its soft fur seemed to be blue, although its head was black, and its beak was harder than the rest of its body. Regardless, it was completely adorable, and it seemed to like you very much.

“It is something I created in my lab during one of my experiments. I figured it would be something you’d enjoy.” You lit up, and the scholar couldn’t help but appreciate how you seemed to glow.

“You made these little guys for me? Oh, I always knew you could be such a romantic! I have my husband, my son, and now a cute pet. Isn’t it nice to see our family grow, Zandik?” He remained silent at your hastily made conclusion, deciding that the little white lie wouldn’t hurt, especially not when you looked this happy. After all, he imagined your response to him keeping this creature in the backrooms of his laboratory for ages wouldn’t be very well received, considering how attached you were to it already. Thankfully, you didn’t notice the glare the creature sent him either.

“Do they have names yet?” Dottore thought back to the string of numbers and letters attached to this experiment and opted not to disclose that, shaking his head. You hummed, trying to think of what name to bestow upon your new pets until you quickly came up with something good.

“Foxttore,” you stated firmly.

“Foxttore?” He repeated a few seconds after you, rather unimpressed.

“Yes! Because he looks like a fox, and he also kind of looks like you!” You playfully squished the creature’s cheeks.

“I bear no resemblance to that creature,” he frowned, immediately refuting your statement.

“Don’t look like that,” you teased. “It’s a compliment. You’re both cuties that are the same shade of blue,” you leaned in to kiss him gently, a simple way to silence him despite his vexation. “Now as for these little ones…” you thought once more as the black puff balls clung to your arm, Dottorelings… no, that’s too long… how about pufflings? Yes, that will do nicely!” Seemingly understanding your words, the pufflings began jumping up and down in glee. You then moved closer to the man and enveloped him in a hug.

“Thank you for this, Zandik. I am very happy,” you whispered quietly as you snuggled into his neck. It was the truth - you really were happy to have some company constantly around. Your husband returned the hug and you loved how his strong arms felt around you.

“Of course. But if they happen to cause you any… trouble,” he sent a look to the thing now called “Foxttore”, “be sure to tell me.”

“Aww, don’t say that. Foxttore is a good boy! Right?” You smiled brightly at your new pet, who was kneading the blanket, watching the two of you. The contrast between its creator’s less-than-pleasant face and your wide grin was stark and rather easy to choose from. It then hopped up and practically wedged itself in between the two of you, looking up to you with a pleading eye, desperate for attention. You squealed with delight and pressed the creature to your cheek, nuzzling against it.

When Dottore noticed the cheeky look his creation sent him, he wondered if this was actually a good idea.

—

Foxttore and the pufflings were the best and cutest companions you could ever ask for.

The pufflings were always scattered about your room, resting in different locations. You honestly had no clue how many there were, nor could you tell them apart, but you swore they squeezed through the bottom of your door somehow because sometimes they’d return with random items. They seemed pretty starved for attention… they even liked it when you squished them like a stress ball.

Foxttore was equally as cuddly, but also rather intelligent. He would fetch you items so you didn’t need to get up, and he could even turn a doorknob… you were fascinated. One of your favorite things to do was give him a note for him to deliver to a segment, and he would actually deliver it. (Said note usually contained you begging a segment to visit you, otherwise you’d die without their attention.)

After a lot of cuddling and rubbing, you found out that Foxttore was just a severely oversized puffling with four legs instead. That blue fur of his wasn’t even his, just a suit he wore. It was quite funny to see him without it on. It seemed rather shy without its fox fur, but with enough kisses, hugs, and reassurance, it had no problem lounging around without it.

You read them stories, showed them everything your room had to offer, placed some of Beta’s cute pink bows on them, bathed with them - you were starting to look forward to the day much more now that you could wake up to them.

—

While Dottore knew that you would get attached to the little monstrosities he gifted you, perhaps he didn’t anticipate it to reach this degree. Even after you had gotten well enough to stroll around the lab again, the blasted things were attached to your hip the whole time.

Visiting the segments? They would come up to you, caressing and teasing you with their deliciously infuriating small touches and kisses, and then all of a sudden a small crash would sound throughout the room, the culprit being Foxttore.

Visiting him? He’d have you on his lap, about to pin you to his desk, when he noticed the pufflings watching him from all corners of the room. It was maddening trying to chase them away, but then you’d get pouty about how the creatures didn’t like to be alone. (The only segment that the creature seemed to like was Zandy, although it had taken a while - a bit of scolding from you, and many offerings of food from the child to Foxttore had done the trick.)

As much as Dottore was glad your mood had improved greatly, admittedly, it would please him if he could just chuck his creations out into the Snezhnayan snow, just to finally get some alone time with you. But you loved them too much, so he resolved to resort to other means… eventually.

Over time, your pets gradually began to not hog your attention the whole time, but you were very insistent on helping Dottore and them become friends. It wasn’t very easy, however, they seemed to have some tension between them. You weren’t really sure why, but you still loved having them together.

—

“Dottore! Oh Dottore, you have to watch this,” you puffed out your chest proudly as Foxttore trotted behind you. Your husband looked at you questioningly before you spread your arms out, directing them toward the creature.

“I taught Foxttore tricks! Watch this! Foxttore, sit!” Your pet obediently sat down, his tail wagging (although you had no clue how that worked since it was just a suit…)

“Foxttore, spin around!”

“Foxttore, roll over!”

“Now high-five me!” Dottore watched in amusement as the blue creature followed your commands with ease. Perhaps it really was smarter than he thought. Regardless, all he cared about was that you were occupied with something, rather than being by yourself.

“Okay, now fetch Dottore’s secret stash of sweets!” At that, Foxttore began making its way over to one of the numerous bookshelves in Dottore’s office before the Harbinger quickly realized what you said, and stopped the creature in its tracks.

“I knew there were too many pieces missing,” he stared at you humorlessly, while you sweated nervously.

“W-What? You said I was allowed to take some!”

“I said you, not this… thing,” the man then picked up Foxttore by its strands of blue hair, which the creature fought at, and dropped it in your arms like it was some pest. “I’m moving it.” 

“Please don’t! I won’t do it again!”

—

The continued pampering of Foxttore had, unfortunately for your lovers, become a norm to see around the lab. He was a spoiled lil shit, in other words, who could do no wrong in your eyes… which is why every new thing you did had little to no effect on them anymore besides an eye twitch of annoyance and a promise to bully the creature later. The current situation was one such time. Dottore had come into your room only to see many abnormally small clothes scattered on your bed, with you in the center of it all.

“Oh Dottie, you’re just in time! Look at what I got!” You then held up Foxttore in all his glory, his new hoodie substantially thinner with different patterns, a great big smile on your face.

… It was only you who had the privilege of using his time like this.

“Now before you ask how I got these, I had them custom-made! See, I wanted to sew the clothes myself, but my hands have been too shaky lately and then you’d get all grumpy if I hurt myself with the needle, so I just asked Columbina to find someone for me and she did! She’s a great friend!” You continued to ramble on. 

“See, the poor thing gets too hot sometimes, especially when he starts running on our walks,” you said sadly, while he wondered how exactly you walked this monstrosity, “that’s why I got him different clothes! And they’re stylish too! Look, he’s even got pajamas! Don’t you think it’s cute?” You looked at him, your eyes sparkling and glittering with light that dazzled him.

In all honesty, Dottore didn’t really care about the little abomination of a creature. In fact, he probably leaned more into disdain for it. But what he did care about was you, and what made you happy, what put a smile on your face since he hated for it to be missing.

“I believe your definition of cute is rather unusual.”

“Huh? How could you not think Foxttore is the cutest thing ever? Oh… I see your game. You think I’m the cutest thing ever, don’t you?” You boldly teased him which didn’t phase him, only making a confident smirk grow on his face.

“I suppose that would be accurate, yes. Nothing else comes to mind that could be compared to your beauty,” he said smoothly, plucking the creature from your hands and dropping it elsewhere, which it clearly disliked, but he was more interested in your reaction. Your mouth slightly ajar, heat creeping up your face with a flustered expression, breathing speeding up a bit.

“A-As long as you’re aware,” you mumbled shyly, turning your face away, although your slight smile was apparent.

Needless to say, Zandik was always aware of his beloved.

—

You always loved it when you were able to leave the lab. Sometimes they were frequent outings, sometimes they were very rare. It all depended on how well you had been feeling lately. Today, you had finally been able to go out for a short walk with Dottore after so long. The cold air and snow had you shivering, but feeling the wind hit your cheeks was worth it. (And being able to cling to your husband was a definite plus in your books.) But you were still happy to come back home.

… Especially when you were greeted by your little friend.

As soon as you walked through the door, you noticed that Foxttore was impatiently waiting by the entrance. The moment he saw you, he sped toward you at light speed and pawed at your legs for pets, hopping up and down. You couldn’t help but laugh as you bent down to give him some attention which he happily reciprocated, but then he pulled away and started wildly running around the two of you.

“Aww, Foxttore is having zoomies!”

“… Pardon?”

“He’s having zoomies!” You smiled at your husband before crouching down, and your pet immediately ran into your arms and settled himself there as you picked him up. “Aww, you must have missed us so much, didn’t you?” You cooed as you rubbed his tummy, while Dottore merely stared at you blankly. The man then noticed the creature’s eye had narrowed into a half circle directed toward him as if to mock him. 

If there was a point system between the two of them as to who was able to steal your attention more, Dottore would sorely be losing.

—

It was one of the few nights where you were able to spend a night like most couples do at the end of the day - resting in the same bed with your lover. You weren’t even sure how you managed to do it this time. You thought it was probably due to your persistence but also that he was genuinely tired. (Well, he had been genuinely tired for ages now, but you were able to get him on a weak day, perhaps.)

You had always loved it when Dottore held you, even if it was slack or just one arm, you always felt safe. Protected. Warm. Happy. The feelings only amplified when both his arms caged you into his chest, which was the perfect place for you to snuggle. (Still, he’d never admit to being the little spoon from when he was a student.)

“Hey, Zandik?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you for everything you’ve done lately, by the way.”

“Of course,” his answer was as simple as could be. He stroked your hair languidly, always one to brush off your thank yous.

“I mean it,” you wiggled out of his grip to look him in the eye, lip jutting out slightly.

“I already know you do. You do not need to keep saying it every time.” You pouted at his response. How else were you supposed to show your appreciation? You then grabbed his arm, which was surprisingly pliable, and placed his hand over your heart.

“Then let me know if you need anything from me. Anything at all. I have to pay you back eventually, you know.” Dottore looked as if he was enjoying himself.

“What do you propose? I’ll listen to your suggestions.”

“Well… I have kisses and cuddles as my expertise. I can cook and bake for you sometimes too… oh, but I can also try doing some of your paperwork! …What? You’re not impressed? I guess I can try to do some more… unsavory tasks as well. The Fatui agents listen to what I have to say quite easily,” you continued to chatter as Dottore’s fingers made their way from your cheek to your neck and then your collarbone, making you stammer at the sensation. “Hey, you’re not even taking me seriously, are you?” Your husband only chuckled at your furrowed eyebrows and grumbling.

If anything, he would want you to repay him by letting him see the faces you’ll make once you’re finally free of your illness.

“Anyway…” you squeezed his hand with yours that still rested on your chest, “You probably know this already, with that ever-calculating mind of yours, but you hold my heart in your hands. I’ll always be here with you.” It was a funny thing to think about, giving your heart to someone like him, in both a physical and intangible sense. Trusting him with your frail body, trusting him with your love, knowing he could squeeze it to a pulp if he wanted to. But he wouldn’t.

He would treat your heart with the utmost care and precaution, not daring to risk even the slightest harm to it.

Dottore stared at you for a few moments while you held his gaze, resolute on making your point known. Wordlessly, he began to move closer to your soft lips, intent on making his response to your statement physical. He was so close, his nose brushing against yours, and your warm breath on his. He was about to finally satiate his desire when-

Something was scratching at the door. Loudly, too. The sudden noise made you jump back and turn your gaze to the door. The Harbinger had a bad feeling about this.

“Did you hear that?”

“No.”

“You’re just lying now!” With a huff, you pushed the blankets off, much to his displeasure, and made your way to the door, opening it. There was Foxttore, making strange noises that he tried his best to mask as cries.

The bliss Dottore felt a few moments ago had turned to immense annoyance immediately.

“Oh, you poor baby! Did you have a nightmare or something?” You exclaimed before quickly scooping Foxttore into your arms and bringing him onto the bed. “It’s okay, you’re with us now…” You softly murmured, stroking it gently as you let it settle on your chest. Where Dottore’s hands should be right now, cupping your soft skin instead of that damned creature.

Dottore swore he was going to throw that thing out once you were asleep.

[entitled-fangirl]

Apologies.

Jason Todd x deaf!reader

Summary: Dick says something too far to the reader, prompting Jason to kick his ass.

A/n: cursing, blood, teasing about being deaf

Masterlist

...............................................

"I'm not kidding, baby. Move."

Y/n stood between Jason and Dick, her hands out in a pleading motion against Jason's chest.

It started out innocent. Dick and Y/n had always gotten along. The two truly clicked like siblings. But like everything else, the teasing became too much.

He kept his eyes on the tear stains on her red cheeks- his motivation to beat Dick's ass.

She was always so lighthearted about the ordeal: having hearing aids. They were obvious on her head but after a while, they blended in. And Jason still had moments when he forgot they were needed. Mostly when waking in the morning next to her, accidentally frightening her when his arm snaked around her half asleep body.

But this was the line.

Dick had said a joke that was just a step too far. Jason watched something snap inside her, a wall finally caving in. Her eyes dulled and she excused herself.

That was twenty minutes ago. And now…

"I swear, I didn't mean anything by it," Dick pleaded from the other side of her.

Jason's jaw set harshly. "That's not a good enough reason for me, Dickybird." He stepped a bit further against Y/n to menacingly glare at Dick.

"Hey, hey," he pleaded.

"No. No." Jason knew she had left her hearing aids in the bathroom down the hall, so he held a large hand over her eyes to keep her from reading his lips. In a different scenario, that would be more amusing than it was now. "I'll fucking gut you."

"Tim, please tell him," Dick begged. "Help me out here."

Tim leaned over the side of the couch and craned his neck to see them. He watched for a moment, taking in each person. "Nah."

Y/n's hands patted Jason's chest to bring his attention back to her. Her voice came out in a slow, breathy whisper. "S-Stop." 

The brick wall that was Jason Todd paused. His hand rested on her cheek. His thumb brushed away the watery pathways the tears had left behind. He wanted to beat the shit out of Dick. He really did. But he'd do anything to cease the hurt look in her eyes. He reluctantly nodded.

Her eyes filled with relief. She leaned against his chest completely. 

He sighed and grabbed her hand that rested on his chest. He brought it up to his lips, kissing the palm softly.

…

A few hours later, Dick stood in front of Y/n, who was just trying to watch TV in the living room. Her body instinctively leaned over to try to see more of the TV but she soon realized he meant to talk to her. She opened her phone and disconnected her hearing aids from the TV to give Dick her full attention.

Dick stood with a defeat in his shoulders, a guilty look in his eyes, and a small ring of red around the inside of his left nostril. And now that she was really looking at it, there was a pink path soaked into his skin under that nostril as well. Like a past nosebleed.

"I know an apology does nothing but I can still try." He awkwardly rubbed his bicep. "I took my words too far. You're different from teasing Jason or Tim or Steph or…" his voice trailed off. "I just mean that I overstepped. You're like a sister to me but I still need to respect the fact that you're not. What I said was hurtful. Please forgive me."

He sounded so sincere. Like a hurt puppy. It would be hard to not forgive him when he's like this. 

"Course, Dick. I know you meant it as a joke. You'd never mean to hurt m-"

"-oh thank god," he collapses in front of her in pure relief. "Okay, I gotta thank you. I really do. I think he would've really killed me otherwise."

Brothers were so strange. "He wouldn't go that far."

"He'd go pretty far, Y/n. You make him nice."

She smiled. "No, I don't. He's just nice when he wants to be."

Dick's eyes almost fell out of his head his eyes became so wide. "Jason was NEVER nice. Not even before. You make him gentle."

…

"There you are," Jason mused as he entered his bedroom in the manor. 

She was lying on his old bed, a book in her hands. She was entirely engrossed in it. Only then did Jason realize her hearing aids were off. 

"Baby?" He cautiously stepped to her and pressed a hand on her shin. 

She jumped, almost throwing the book. Upon seeing him, she relaxed with a mockingly annoyed expression. 

Jason smiled and mouthed 'sorry' before grabbing her hearing aids off the nightstand. He tilted her head to the side. His fingers gently placed one on her before leaning in and kissing her cheek. "Dinner's in ten," he spoke softly against her skin.

She smiled and gave him a small peck to his lips. 

He was so glad her mood had shifted. As his hand placed the other on her, he asked. "How long have you been in here?"

She hummed. "Hour or so."

"Thought you wanted to watch TV," he pointed out. "You were on the couch when I left ya and now here you are." He was fishing for something.

She sat up a little more. "I had an odd conversation with Dick."

His brows shot up amusingly high. "Oh?" He asked. "And what did he say that was so odd?"

"He apologized."

"Hm. Good for him. Glad he came to his senses."

Leaning into him, she continued to feed him everything he wanted to hear. "It was rather sweet."

He nuzzled his nose into her hair, muffling his voice. "Just glad you feel better about it."

She let out a breathy chuckle, grabbing his hand and running her fingers over his knuckles. "Does it hurt?"

His shoulders tensed slightly. "'S what hurt, baby?"

"Your raw knuckles. From punching Dick in the nose."

He smiled widely at getting caught. It was all amusing to him now that things had passed. "Don't know what you're talking about."

"Right," she huffed. 

"Dinner's soon. C'mon," he tutted, pulling her up from the bed.

…

At dinner, things continued as if nothing had happened. The tension was gone from everywhere but Jason's shoulders.

Y/n had remarked something quick-witted against Dick, prompting him to huff out, "C'mon! Listen to yourself!"

The entire table went from all laughs to dead silent, watching as if their favorite soap opera had just come on.

Jason's gaze hardened, his head tilting.

"Woah," Dick realized. "That wasn't even- That was just something I always say! Jason? No, Jason!"

Jason reached around Y/n's head, pulling her hearing aids off and keeping them safely in his hand. He stood over the table and pointed a finger at Dick, yelling god-knows-what at him.

Y/n looked to Cass for an interpretation, but even she shook her head with wide eyes.

She'd be expecting another apology from Dick later.

.............................................

[quin-ns]

Knuckle Velvet (Aegon II Targaryen x Reader)

Word count: 1.9K

Summary: Aegon is desperate for the love of the sister he truly wants, even if he has to take it

Tags: (18+), cw: non-con, cw: sibling incest, targaryen!reader, dark themes, choking, fingering, unprotected sex (obvi, it’s hotd times), hair pulling kinda, forced orgasm, aegon is lowkey pathetic but also threatening

A/N: first aegon fic. I’d been wanting to write for him but with the new season and him getting hotter (maybe he looks the same and I just got more into him idk) I had to write him

HotD masterlist + main masterlist

Aegon’s head weighed heavy on your lap, but even as your legs began to grow numb, you let him be. Your fingers lightly carded through his silver hair in the way you knew he wanted.

“I like it when you take care of me,” your brother had told you many times. It had to be the truth, given how often he’d seek you out just to curl up next to you.

Sometimes he’d sit like this, his head in your lap like some kind of dog, wanting his hair stroked and your words of assurance. He could fall asleep like this, or let tears slip down his cheeks. Other times he’d crawl on top of you and take the love he was desperate for. He could kiss away your silent tears, or muffle your cries with his lips.

Either way, he kept returning to you, begging for your attention and affection.

It might’ve been amusing, how weak he could be to you, if he wasn’t so terrifying at the same time.

Tonight, as Aegon muttered about his most recent council meeting, you thought perhaps you’d be spared his touch tonight.

“I should have been wed to you,” he muttered, voice holding onto a bitterness he had yet to let go. “I can stand your company and I already spend more time in your bed. I’ve suffered enough cruelty in my life, being allowed to marry who I please should’ve been a mercy I was granted. It makes no difference to our line.”

You had had this conversation many times to the point you were beyond tired of speaking about it. Helaena was the eldest sister, it had made sense to your mother and grandsire to pair the two together. They couldn’t have known the resentment that would build in the king.

Helaena was the correct choice for queen. You would not have the stomach for it. Helaena had already given birth to two of his children. Aegon was occasionally amused by them, but it was your sister that doted on them. She was a good mother. You didn’t think you could bring yourself to be. You were grateful to the maesters who would bring you tea and turn a blind eye to Aegon’s doings. The rumors that would circulate him would not ruin his future the way they would you. You’d yet to marry and if word got out you lacked virtue, you may never. You didn’t want Aegon to get the satisfaction.

You suspected Aegon no longer laid with his wife, and she was fortunate for that. If he loved you as much as he claimed and still had to kiss bruises in the morning, you didn’t dare to imagine what he could’ve done to her. She had given him a son and a daughter, and perhaps that was enough for him.

Aegon sat up and you flinched, even as he looked at you with tears in his eyes. You wondered if he recognized how insulting it was to hear him whine about his responsibilities, to listen to him say he loved you and list off the things he wanted to give you, only for him to not lift a finger for either. Duties went ignored. His love remained violent. You were tired. So very, very tired.

A hand found your face, fingers pressing into the skin of your cheek. Aegon’s thumb dragged down your lips, pulling the bottom one apart from the top. His gaze pierced yours as he let your lip go in favor of letting his thumb tilt up your chin when you tried to look away.

“Do you love me?” Aegon pleaded.

He stared at your mouth, waiting for you to speak. Your lips remained pressed together. Tears spilled further down his pale cheeks. Aegon’s face twisted as something other than just begging shined through his eyes.

Your lack of response rewarded you with a hand around the throat. Then again, you could’ve said exactly what he desired and received the same. He enjoyed his power over you as you’d never been one to fight back. At least this way you could remain somewhat defiant.

Aegon kissed you like he was trying to bruise your lips. His kiss was all teeth and tongue, forcefully claiming you as he left his mark. Aegon took what he wanted and cared nothing for charm or patience.

Hands fell to your shoulders, gliding over them for only a second before they pressed. Your back hit the mattress with a gasp. Aegon’s teeth found your neck as he crawled on top of you. The weight was already crushing. With each button on your gown he undid, the faster your heart raced.

“You are beautiful, sister,” he said, sounding wrecked already as he admired your naked body. You believed he meant it, but it didn’t spare you. “If only you weren’t being so stubborn with your words.”

Aegon’s hand on your neck was no more welcome than the first time he’d gripped it, but at least you’d grown better at controlling your breathing.

He made himself comfortable between your legs. The hand on your neck remained firm, while the other disappeared inside you.

You hated how he knew to do this. To prepare you for him. Something you were certain he’d learned at a pleasure house. That was the last thing you wanted to feel. At least if it hurt you could remind yourself you did not want this. You did not want Aegon to touch you or kiss you or fuck you. But when a warmth began to form inside you and slick coated his skilled fingers, your mind would always begin to blur and doubt crept in, while a smirk would appear on his lips. It happened every time without fail and this was no exception.

“You’ll have to speak to me sometime,” Aegon goaded, fingers stroking your walls. He leaned down over you, his lips pressing to your ear as he whispered, “Perhaps it’ll be when you scream my name.”

When, not if. Arrogance was a most undesirable feature of your eldest brother.

You tried to shut your thighs when Aegon withdrew his hand, but a harsh slap to your skin reminded you of your place. You grit your teeth and close your eyes as the head of his cock pressed into you. You’d lost count of how many times he’d done this, but it took your breath every time when he slammed into the hilt.

“Look at me,” he grunted. You could feel air hit your face, knowing his face was above you.

You cracked your eyes open when he squeezed your neck. His eyes would’ve been beautiful if they didn’t have such a lifeless quality to them.

Your throat bobbed against his hand as you swallowed, but no words left you. The sole purpose was to frustrate him. Tomorrow you’d speak to him as usual, but tonight, like you did some nights, you wanted to make your resistance known, even if his cock was buried in you.

He kissed you when he began to move. The hand on your throat remained as his lips attached to yours. His other hand groped at you, running over your hips, your waist, your breasts—anything he could touch. He thrust into you with power, forcing your legs apart. All you could do was lie there and take it.

Aegon breathed heavily against your mouth as your body welcomed him. Your mind had no say in the matter. Your warm, wet walls clung to his cock as he fucked you hard. Your legs wrapped around him without your say and that really drove him mad with lust.

His hand finally left your neck as both rose to run through your hair. Aegon’s hands were rough as he held your face in place by your scalp. Your winces of pain went ignored as usual. The sound of skin against skin echoed through the room and your face grew even more heated at the sound of your own slickness that joined. He parted from your lips to watch your face.

“I can see your pleasure, sister. Your body does not lie. Your face does not lie.”

You wanted to turn your head but you could not. You gripped the sheets as he pressed into you harder with each motion, letting you feel the thick length of him inside you even longer. Your legs began to shake as heat throbbed in your belly.

“Ae—” you cut yourself off, but it was too late.

You’d begun to give him the satisfaction of winning but had snatched it away. Aegon wouldn’t have that. He couldn’t.

His eyes looked wild as Aegon fisted your hair. “Say it,” he hissed. “Say anything.”

One would have mistaken his tone for anger, or something else, but you knew what it truly was. The desperation in his voice might’ve conjured pity if he wasn’t busy splitting you open on his cock. His thrusts picked up again and you felt your body beginning to tighten around him.

Your back arched off the bed as his harsh movements forced your legs further apart to make room for him. Aegon was growing frantic, chasing his desires with fervor.

One hand stayed in your hair while the other snaked between your bodies. A moan tore through you when the palm of his hand pressed to the top of your cunt. Another trick you were certain had been taught to him to find the most pleasure. Your hips bucked down against him, the need from your body for the pressure causing it to act on its own.

It was all so overwhelming, the word slipped from your lips before you could think to stop.

“Aegon!” you cried out. You didn’t even know what for. Surely for him to stop, but a blinding pleasure began to rattle you. Your legs locked around him, holding him deep inside you as your body quivered and clenched around him. You could barely breathe as the feeling of release wracked your entire being in a sudden instant.

Aegon cursed above you, his breaths coming out harsh. He gave quick, sharp thrusts, barely able to move with the grip of your legs. You felt his cock throb of you before he spilled inside of you with a deep moan. He shoved his hips forward, encasing himself in your body as he forced you to ride out your pleasure alongside him.

Finally, when your vision began to clear, you forced your legs to drop. You laid limp beneath him as Aegon collapsed on top of you. You shivered as his face pressed to your neck. You clenched your teeth as he nipped at your bruised neck. You even felt a tear stream down your cheek.

“You love me,” Aegon stated. It was not a question this time. He lifted his head, silver hair sticking to his forehead as his eyes searched yours. “You can deny it, or refuse to speak it, but you do.”

Whether he believed that or not, you couldn’t be certain. He spoke with conviction, but as you left him without a response, you noticed the familiar glint of sadness in his eyes as he fought back tears of his own.

With a quiver to his voice he added, “And I love you.”

As much as your body ached and your neck throbbed, deep down, you knew with certainty that he believed he did.

[fuxuannie]

Hey girl, I LOVED YOUR HEADCANONS. Specifically abt Ken x Reader. If you can write about headcanons abt maybe when he's jealous? You covered literally almost everything in your headcanons, so I have nothing to request except this 😭

❥﹒kenji sato x gender neutral reader

✦. synopsis — part 2 of the kenji sato headcanons because i am totally normal <3

✦. love mail — i swear i promise ill post hsr guys 😞 just let me have my moment w sato i beg. i’ve decided to just do this req + add some more hehe. thank you sm requester for enabling my brain rot! (pls more ppl do so)

✦. tags — NO SPOILERS, fluff, dadgirl kenji, non-intimate/sexual kissing, kenji sato x reader, i wrote this w my brain off again ( ´͈ ᗨ `͈ ;; pls

Jealousy was not fun for the Kenji Sato. Before Emi came along and changed him, I can see him being the type to get jealous easily. Why would you need to talk to other people anyway? You had him, he was the best. He’d make it real obvious too, suddenly wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close, or the following days he has you wear his iconic jacket while you’re out with him so everyone knows exactly who and what you two are. If it gets to the better of him, he’ll get all pouty about it. He wants all your attention, your eyes all over him and him only. Maybe even hands but that’s a different thing. But I think after Emi’s influence, it’s less possessive and he’s grown to trust you with others instead of letting his feelings get in the way. Of course he’s not immune to jealousy, but you notice it a lot less. It’s less suffocating for you and you’re grateful he’s grown. You did love the pouty face he’d make though, it was cute.

Now if you were jealous, which is really no surprise.. Kenji had thousands of admirers, he had gifts on his doorstep like every other day. He’ll do everything to prove and reassure you that you’re the only one who has his heart. He’ll post you on his social media, take you out on dates, all those things to wash your worries away. Lastly, he’ll hold you in his arms at night and whisper everything he loves about you. Everything you were silently insecure about, he loved. Every date you thought he forgot, he remembered. And to meet a guy like that? How lucky can you be? (He tells you he’s luckier of course. <3)

I think he’s a messy kisser for the most part 🧐. (Forgive me in advance for this part. I am not very good at these things.) When he can take his time, he’s slow and gentle. Genuinely just trying to show you that yeah, he loves you, so damn much. And he’s going to show that through his passion by taking things slow so you can really feel his devotion. Other times, because he’s always in a rush, he’ll do a messy but clearly desperate kiss. He doesn’t like leaving without one, and you can describe him kissing you like it’s his last, (because it’s really not a far-fetched guess considering his line of work) his hand behind your head and pressing your lips against his in an almost ravenous manner. He does give you a very quick kiss on the forehead and runs off after finishing, leaving you a little dazed.

He LOVES to take you out on night rides. If ever you get a little nervous/have a fear of motorcycles, he’ll talk you all the way through via the cardo he put into your helmet. He’ll take you to some nice cafes or restaurants around Tokyo, other time’s he’ll bring you to some favourite childhood spot of his. When you arrive, he’ll tell you about his mother and the memories he’s made in this very special spot. It warms your heart to see his expression be so fond when he talks about his childhood – he truly misses it.

Before you knew of Kenji’s identity, I think it would be funny if you hated Ultraman. You just LOATHED the guy, Kenji asked your thoughts on Ultraman on the first date and you went on a rant about how he threw your car at a Kaiju only to miss. (He felt so embarrassed). It would be funnier if afterwards, he began to actually do his job as Ultraman properly.. and avoided cars on your street and avenue. He wanted to make sure you didn’t utterly hate Ultraman before revealing that he was him.

It would be cute if you and him knew each other like, much earlier. And you called him Ken. And then he made that his alias while he was becoming an All-Star baseball player. :) He’ll brag about it all the time in interviews too, that you’re the reason he uses it. <3

He’s the typa guy to have a picture of you in his room, behind his phone case, in his wallet, in his car and literally anywhere he can get his hands on. He bought a polaroid camera just to take pictures of you, he could care less about the price of film or the camera itself.. he just wanted to have as many pictures of you as possible. He’ll brag about it to his baseball teammates too, considering he also keeps one in his pockets for good luck. :)

You're his goodluck charm. <3

[cheyisagirlkisser]

More sugar mommy stuff..this time with Ellie and Abby<3 MDNI SMUT BELOW

•Abby is definitely really gentle with her sugar baby. She’d love to spoil you more with cute clothes and sweet kisses, not as much on the sexual side. She was just an older woman who wanted some company and to spoil a pretty girl like you.

•Ellie, however, is more about just giving you money and trips and getting sex. Not to say that she doesn’t care or is shallow, she just prefers the quick connections with her babies. You happen to be one of them.

•Abby hits it off well with you. After a few dinners, you do end up having sex. However, it’s not anything like an expectation or a matter of pleasing her. She just really likes you, and she wants things a teensy more on the physical side as well.

•Ellie and you don’t spend a lot of time together in the beginning, maybe one every few weeks she’ll take you out, but when she does, it’s the BEST. One time you mentioned really wanting to go to Italy. Ellie definitely took you there a month later!! The sex there was truly mind-blowing for her, and even if she’s not the softest person, she loves seeing you all happy.

•Abby who when you two are doing the rarely sexual stuff, loves to please you more than anything. You’re practically a pillow princess now, sometimes she’ll let you do the work but it’s more rare than Christmas every year.

•Ellie who does love to see your face contort with pleasure when you cum, but like receiving too. You’ll find yourself with a face-full of her cunt, nose brushing up against her bush while she grinds against your tongue.

“Open wide, baby, let me use that slutty tongue of yours..there you go baby, stick your tongue out.”

Needless to say, she’ll always make sure you’re taken care of too. Every single time.

•Abby’s favorite position would definitely be missionary. She finds the more intimate positions her favorites. She loves to look into your eyes when she fucks you. She also probably wouldn’t refer to it as “fucking”, though. She does consider what you do making love, and she loves to kiss you while making you feel good. Bonus if the base of the strap bumps against her clit enough to make her cum..if it doesn’t, you’ll beg her to let you finish her off.

•Ellie’s more into scissoring/tribbing. Like I said, she does love making you cum but likes getting herself off as well. Getting to cum together is an unexpected intimacy between the two of you, and she does appreciate those types of moments with you. However, she’s also definitely the type to fuck you in a simple way, too. The first few times before you two got closer, she’d just fuck you from behind. She loved the way your ass jiggled as her hips met it, making a comically loud sound.

•Abby would prefer sex on the softer, lovey side. She’s just your sugar mommy, so there’s a fine line between the two of you, but as the months go by you notice she’s really just a gentle woman. She loves the idea of making love and taking it slow. She’s also big on consent–not that Ellie’s not, of course, but she has to ask you through every step and finds herself constantly asking if you’re okay, if you’re nervous, etc.

•Ellie definitely likes to fuck you rougher. She’s all about consent, too, but is more about you submitting to her for her own pleasure. Before anything, she’ll sit you down and go over what she can and can’t do. If you ever feel uncomfortable, she’ll be able to tell easily, and if not, she makes sure to check in on you in her own way…

“You like that, slut? Tell me what you want.”

She expects an honest answer, and if she doesn’t get one, she’ll pause and make sure you’re all okay before she continues.

However, once all is said and done, she loves being rough. She loves pulling your hair, grinding her cunt against your face, slamming her strap into you, etc. She likes being rough if you’re giving, too. She’ll tangle her hands into your hair while your tongue is on her, guiding your head.

•Abby would like to spoil you more with clothing and food. Say you like lobster, for example. She’d take you to your favorite restaurants for lobster specifically. She’s not the type to pick out clothing for you to wear, she likes your style and instead just prefers admiring you try things on in the dressing rooms, showering you with compliments.

“You look so pretty in that skirt, baby. How ‘bout mommy pays for that one, yeah?”

I also think Abby would LOVE to send you money to go have girls nights with your friends. She thinks it’s good for you to have fun and time away from her to do your own thing. She knows you’re going to the mall with your friends? She’ll send you a couple hundred for clothes and lunch.

•Ellie prefers spoiling you with experiences and gifts. She’s straight up with money, she has a basic allowance set for you, but she often takes you on trips and different places. She likes the idea of spending time with you over just spending money on clothes. You have plenty of those, anyway. Instead, she’ll buy you gifts like jewelry you happened to be eyeing in the mall or expensive candies from Japan, something like that. Ellie also definitely bought you a cat of all things because you’re her favorite sugar baby and she wanted to do something special. Said cat LOVES her every time Ellie visits you<3

[ervotica]

i just saw someone talk about pornstar!patrick and my third eye opened up

shut up i’ll die actually

warnings; smut, 18+, fem!reader, pornstar!patrick, p in v sex, allusions to reader being eaten out, patrick is hot <3

a/n; i’m insane for this actually. pls send more pornstar!patrick asks i’ll beg for them 🥹

this is him <3

thinking of a self made pornstar!patrick, started off making solo videos of him jerking off in the dirty backseat of his car. utterly surprised when viewers couldn’t get enough of him and he earned enough money to make a living off of making porn of himself.

he starts inviting other men, women - anyone who shows interest in him and his videos - to shoot with him, and soon he has a plethora of people lining up for a chance to fuck him, even if it’s on camera.

he bypasses the entire queue when he catches wind of you, a soft little thing with a mean streak he so desperately wants to explore, and he’s running straight to your messages to set a date.

he pays for your transport and your stay — a five star hotel that is far more expensive than anywhere you’ve been in your entire life.

it doesn’t feel orchestrated when the camera starts filming. it doesn’t feel like an act as he works you up with his hot breath over your cunt and two thick fingers that sink into your weeping hole. it doesn’t feel fake when you bury your fingers into his hair and tug, relishing in the way he moans and ruts his hips into the plush bed beneath you.

and it certainly doesn’t feel fake when he makes you cum harder than you ever have before.

his viewers all envy you, want to be you, when he folds your legs to your chest and feeds you his cock inch by inch. it’s a tight fit, that’s for sure, but you’ve never felt more full, more stretched in your life, and you fucking love it.

the way the head of his cock, a visceral red, notches against your entrance as he sinks in in in, further than you thought possible until the weeping slit burrows against your cervix, the way you keen and clutch at his shoulders as he murmurs praises because you’re being so good, baby, just a little more now.

he’s barely one thrust in before you’re cumming around him with a shudder and a cry, and it’s stronger than anything you’ve ever felt in your life, so easy the way he takes you apart because he’s already memorised your cunt, already knows how to fuck it.

and he’s hooking his arms beneath the dip of your spine, dragging you up to meet his hot mouth in a greedy kiss, all tongues and teeth and fire and passion, and that paired with the way he’s fucking you - the filthy roll of his hips that never slows, never stops - is enough to have you cumming round him again.

he fucks like he’s in love with you and he hates you all at once, spears you open on his cock and keeps you spread out beneath him, teases and taunts until you growl with frustration and claw at him. it makes him laugh, a low, gravelly sound against your lips as he concedes and pistons his hips into you with more fervour than before.

once you’re well and truly fucked out, you crawl between his legs and wrap your mouth around him, and he’s sure he meets god.

and then the camera comes off, and a switch flips in him as he watches you laying on the bed, breathing heavily, eyes closed, a sleepy smile on your face.

patrick zweig might just be in love.

the video skyrockets in views and profits, climbing straight to the most popular he’s ever made. viewers beg him to keep you as a permanent fixture within his channel. and, well, who would he be if he didn’t give the people what they want?

-

challengers taglist; @diorrfairy @igotmajordaddyissues @xotwod-jade @imbabycowboy @cloudnitee @hobocatton

[okwonyo]

（ 标题 ） STRAWBERRY HEAD.

PREC𝒾S ⠀⟡​⠀a guy with a fun costume flirts with you at a party.

( 엔하이픈 희승 ) ୨୧ f .. r 12OO fluff meet cute ── flirting skinship ��� ｡｡ ⠀ recue𝒾l

지아 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒ㅤ i am not leaving tumblr everrr don’t worry, luvdolls 💌

( ˊᗜˋreblogs&feedbacks · C𝑙𝑖CK )

it always ends up the same. no matter what the conversation is, no matter how it began or where; it always ends up with the same conclusion. why don’t you have a boyfriend, yet?

as always, you groan while tilting your face to the ceiling. like a tradition, it is like you are begging a superior being to end your misery now and just take you before they all start to recall all your failed dates and talking stage over the past few months. it is not like they are that many, anyway.

you can try to tell each one of the people surrounding you that you are not interested in a relationship, that you think boys are fun to mess with but truly useless and that you are fine on your own— they never listen.

you successfully disappear amongst the crowd of diverse book, movie and game characters— and even … fruits? — costumes to get a drink. suddenly feeling very thirsty. 

no one notices you, too hang on debating on your love life when you are not even there to begin with.

pouring something into your glass, you feel someone standing a bit too close to you. 

“hey,” a voice greets you loudly. making your heart jump all the way to your stomach. 

you almost giggle as you turn around; a tall, grown man in a bright red hoodie, the same color as his joggings and a strawberry sort of hat wrapped around his head. 

his voice is way too deep to go with his costume.  

a smile tugs your lips, “hi.”

he smiles back. this time with a much much softer, he tells you back, “hi,” he eyes lingers on your face. “you come here often?”

you actually giggle at that, with your face falling towards the ground, with his face following yours, with his gaze never leaving you as he smirks. 

you cross one arm under your chest and plant your free arm’s elbow in your wrist, holding your drink close to your mouth, “please, don’t tell me that line has ever worked for you,” he chuckles at that, “i wouldn’t stand it.” 

the strawberry head shrugs, “tried and tested true for a reason,” then he leans his shoulder against the wall next to you. 

“what’s your name, bambi?” he asks you, biting down his lip as he smiles. 

the nickname comes from your doe makeup and the little tail on your skirt. looks like you are not the only one who makes nicknames. 

you respond while turning to face him, “what is yours?” 

“heeseung,” you admit it, ‘strawberry head’ will be missed but you like this one better. 

“it’s cute,” you nod and he laughs. 

“and yours isn’t?” he immediately says back. he rolls your name on his tongue, dear god . “it suits you well, i like it.”

you huff humoredly, “i will tell my parents you are a fan,” you don’t forget to emphasis on his name and hold your drink up, “heeseung.” 

“i hope i will be able to tell them myself one day,” he teases when you drink, making your choke. 

well, that was quite risky— although, still very smooth, you will give him that. 

your eyes wide and your mouth falls open is a surprised smile. your face must be funny because heeseung lets out a genuine laugh, that goes beyond the sound of the loud music. 

“take me to dinner first!” you tell him, while watching his body vibrate because of his laughter. 

the tall man gets serious pretty quickly after the words leave your mouth, he looks at you like he had you exactly where he wanted. 

“well,” he starts and his smirk is back again. “what about tonight?”

you can only blink at him for a moment. as if it was written on it; you scan his entire face in a hope of an answer. oh. 

“diner?” you ask, he hums. “tonight?” he hums again and your knees weaken a bit. “but we barely know each other!”

“we can get to!” his smile is more than evident in his voice, on his pink lips. “over diner!” 

he got you pressing your lips together and fighting back a smile like a highschool girl. the debate doesn’t take very long in your head, you just need to bite your inner cheek to get yourself to say it. 

strawberry head’s face is full of apprehension and enthusiasm, so much that you wonder who looks the most idiotic between the two of you. 

you sigh, then giggle, “fine, you convinced me.” 

the guy smiles. and after you successfully say goodbye to your friends while avoiding all their questions, everything gets wrapped pretty well. 

soon you stand a few meters away from heeseung’s means of transport.

“you have a bike,” you sound half impressed, half incredulous. 

heeseung, with his strawberry costume, has the audacity to look at you with an utterly shocked and offended expression splashed on his face. he even puts his hand on his heart. 

“am i not cool enough to have one?” he asks as he leans on his motorcycle. 

you take one step closer to him, letting your fingertips run through the leather seat. it is cool, very much so. him, despise his bright red ensemble, too. 

you chuckle, “it just doesn’t match your costume,” you confess and he chuckles. “you are like my very own james dean,” you turn your gaze back to him, “very cool to me.”

his look softens, his hand offered to you and helping you when you get on the passenger sit. he speaks again : 

“i promise to take care of you.” he whispers before letting your hand go gently. “i know a good restaurant a couple of blocks away.” you want to ask him if he doesn’t feel a bit ridiculous wearing this. “are you comfortable?

you thank your past self for choosing a black short instead of a skirt to wear with your black top and boots, “yeah,” you nod. “thank you.”

the wind runs through his hair when he takes off his strawberry head. it takes your breath away instantly. he was already beautiful before but now, this is something beyond and different. 

of course, his hair is pink.

“wouldn’t like to see it flying, would we?” he jokes and you only blink, eyes following him as he gets behind the bike and puts the strawberry in the box. he takes a helmet and comes back to you. 

he gets on the bike, so close to you when he turns around. 

your world completely collapse when he puts the helmet on your head for you, “i only got one,” he speaks, eyes focused on his fingers adjusting the helmet. “didn’t know a pretty girl like you would let me carry her around, you know?” 

thankfully, the tinted visor can hide your blushing face. and your stupid smile. halas— it can’t hide your giggles.

“i saw it in a dream of mine,” you respond when he turns around. you embrace his waist, “i knew the trajectory of you life would be changed tonight.” 

heeseung laughs again.

as he starts the engine you whisper in his ear, “is it the part where you tell me to hold on tight?” 

“i think you are doing that already, doll,” he taps your hand. 

and man, what a ride it was.

ㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open

[moonlitwitchdaisy]

Last Christmas, I Gave You My A**

❅ summary: Last year, Gojo Satoru had been a good boy. Well, he’d at least tried. And in return, you gave him the one thing he’d been wanting for a long time. Your ass. That Christmas night was unforgettable for both of you, and you’d promised him that if he could manage to be a good boy again this year, you’d gladly give him what he wanted once more. But could your boyfriend really pull it off? Would he follow to the rules and earn his “dream ass” this Christmas, or would he mess things up like always and end up on the naughty list?

❅ pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

❅ word count: 5.1k

❅ warnings: +18 Minors Do Not Interact +18 modern au, naughty gojo is trying to be a good boy for reader, mature language, gojo is doing the "jingle bell rock dance," mean girls fan gojo, use of pet names, teasing, kissing, santa-elf roleplaying, dom/sub dynamic (reader is the dom hehe), oral sex (only f receiving because gojo been a naughty boy this year!), anal fingering, using handcuffs, cowgirl, unprotected sex, anal sex, needy gojo (i love when men beg), pussydrunk gojo

❅ a little note: gojo is so silly and boyfriend material hehe

Entering December officially means it’s time to dive into Christmas preparations. You had a million tasks to handle, especially since you were dating a Christmas-obsessed boyfriend, making everything needlessly extra. Right now, you were planning this year’s Christmas.

Or rather, Gojo wasn’t even letting you speak.

“Alright, now that we’ve finalized the menu, let’s move on to this year’s tree decorating theme. Last year’s snow theme was fantastic, but we have to outdo ourselves every year,” your boyfriend said, scribbling ideas onto the notepad in front of him, completely lost in thought. You, on the other hand, were bored out of your mind, listening to him ramble. Suddenly, he looked up from the paper, his face lighting up with excitement.

“Oh, baby! I just had the most amazing idea!”

You chuckled at his enthusiasm. “Hmm, what’s on your mind?”

“I thought, why don’t we combine love and Christmas? We could do a red-themed tree! Oh, oh, oh! We could even paint the tree red! God, I’m such a genius,” Gojo declared as he started furiously jotting down his brilliant ideas.

“How exactly do you plan on painting the tree red, love?” you asked.

“Oh, that’s the easiest part. Just trust me. This year is going to be the best one yet,” he replied confidently.

When it came to Christmas, this man turned into a completely different person. Normally, Gojo couldn’t even be bothered to take notes, but during the holiday season, he meticulously planned every detail and somehow managed to assign you tasks in the most efficient way. If only every day could be Christmas.

“Well, now that we’ve somewhat handled the tree situation, it’s time for the most important task of all!” His gaze shifted to you, and a wide grin spread across his face.

Oh, you knew exactly what he was talking about.

“Toru, I already—”

“CHRISTMAS GIFTS!!!”

Oh, God… This man truly had no sense of subtlety when it came to gifts.

“You’re such a child, Toru.”

“Oh, come on, baby. Gifts are the best part of Christmas! And besides, you don’t have to be a kid to love presents.”

He wasn’t wrong at this one because you also got very happy when you received gifts.

Gojo’s smile grew even bigger as he looked at you with an excited twinkle in his eye. “So, what did you get me?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, Toru? If you had listened to me, I would’ve told you that I already got your gifts. You sent me your list a month ago.”

“Upsiee… Did I really?”

You rolled your eyes. This man had a way of driving you insane. “Yes. Yes, you did.”

“Come on, you know how long I’ve wanted the Super Mario Express Train LEGO set. Remember…”

“Oh, here we go again,” you muttered. He must have told you this story a thousand times by now. The even crazier part? You had been there to witness it firsthand.

That day, he stood in line for four hours just to get that train set. And because he was terrified of being alone, he dragged you along with him. When the doors finally opened, he grabbed your hand with one hand while shoving past children with the other. They had only stocked four of those sets, and according to Gojo’s calculations, there was only one left by the time he reached the shelf. Just as he grabbed the last box, a small child grabbed it at the same time.

You’d seen him lose his mind before, but that moment might have been the most terrifying. He shouted, “It’s mine you brat!” at the kid while you begged him not to fight with a child.

“And in the end, as you know, I let that little brat have it.” He crossed his arms, pouting. “I knew I shouldn’t have listened to you that day! Ever since then, every time I try to get the set, it’s always sold out. But luckily, my beautiful, perfect girlfriend must have found it for me, seeing as how she’s glaring at me to shut up right now.”

He was right again. His dramatics had made you desperate for him to stop talking.

“My bank account might’ve taken a little hit because of you,” you admitted. The list of gifts he’d sent you had definitely put a dent in your savings.

He waved dismissively. “I’m worth every penny, baby.”

He really was.

“You’re lucky that even tough you were naughty this year, I still got you those gifts.”

He got up from where he was sitting and came over to where you were leaning against the kitchen counter. “You know you like me being naughty.” He closed the distance, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “Because if I were a good boy…” His lips trailed from your forehead to your cheek. “I wouldn’t fuck you in ways you couldn’t even dream of.” His lips moved to your neck, leaving you breathless.

“Toru…”

“Yes, baby?” he replied, his voice low.

Barely above a whisper, you managed, “Don’t tease me.”

Of course, he did the exact opposite, kissing and licking the softest spot on your neck. “What happens if I don’t? Do I get on the naughty list of the sexiest Santa in the world? If I know that Santa well, I think she’ll still give me whatever I want. Especially…” His large hands gripped your hips and gave them a soft squeeze. “The gift I want most.”

You obviously knew what he wanted most. Even on his gift list, he’d written, “MY DREAM ASS” surrounded by exclamation points and hearts. Could he make it any more obvious?

Last year, you’d tried anal for the first time. Honestly, in your three years together, you didn’t understand why you’d waited so long. Knowing how badly Gojo had wanted to fuck your ass, you’d given him the best Christmas gift of his life, even though he’d been a very naughty boy that year.

And my God, the two of you had the best sex of your lives.

You’d done it a few times since then, but Christmas was special to Gojo, and the sex you had on that day was always more passionate, especially when his big cock was stretching your tight asshole.

When you saw “your ass” at the top of his gift list this year, you’d laughed out loud. You knew he’d write it, but this time, it wasn’t going to be so easy for him to get it.

Because naughty kids couldn’t always win.

“Don’t be so sure of yourself, Toru.” You cupped your boyfriend’s face in your hands. “Rumor has it Santa won’t give you the gift you want most because you haven’t been a good boy.”

“Huh, nonsense! She always gives me what I want.”

You let go of his face and adopted a serious tone. “Careful, love. If you push your luck any further, not only will you miss out on your favorite gift, but you might not get anything else either!”

Finally realizing you were serious, Gojo’s eyes widened in shock. “W-What? Baby, please… You’re the most amazing, stunning, sexy Santa in the world with the softest, most perfect ass. You wouldn’t do this to me.”

“Try me.”

Dropping to his knees, he clasped your legs and pouted dramatically. “I can be good! Please, please! I’ll do anything you want. I don’t want to be a naughty boy anymore. I’ll do whatever Santa wants. All I want is the number one gift on my list.”

A victorious smirk spread across your face. Your plan was working perfectly. “Well, since you insist…” You pulled out a red piece of paper labeled “Gojo Satoru’s 4 Tasks for Being a Good Boy.” “You know I hadn’t given you my gift list yet.”

His eyes sparkled with excitement as he stared at the paper in your hand. “Yes, yes, baby. Whatever you want, I’ll get it. I don’t care how much it costs. Consider it done.”

You laughed at how clueless he was about what he was agreeing to. “I’m not sure these are exactly items to buy… but I’d say there’s plenty of work for you to do.” You handed the paper to Gojo, who eagerly unfolded it, only to have his jaw drop in disbelief.

“Baby, what is this?”

“Oh, I’m sure the title explains it, but if you can’t read—”

“Don’t worry, I can read just fine. But what the hell is this?”

The consequences of not being a good boy this year.

“Well, I thought about it, and as the most amazing, stunning, and sexy Santa in the world, I created a special fast-track good-boy program just for you. This way, even if you haven’t been good this year, you still have a chance to earn the gift you want most. Last year, you got it easy, but this year, you need to complete a few tasks to make your Santa happy.”

Still kneeling, Gojo stared at the list before slowly standing and looking at you with wide, incredulous eyes. “Are you trying to torture me?”

“No. I just think you’ve gotten too used to getting everything your way.” Rising onto your tiptoes, you wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned in to whisper in his ear, “Remember this, Satoru: if you want to earn the most precious things, you have to be a good boy.”

When you pulled back, you caught sight of his flushed cheeks. No matter how dominant he usually was (especially in bed) your occasional moments of control never failed to fluster him. And you found it irresistibly cute.

“Sweetheart, did you really think a lot while preparing this list?” He glanced at the first item and read aloud: “Task 1: Apologize to the kid you fought with at the LEGO store.” His expression turned sour. “God, how am I supposed to find that kid? And there’s no way I’m apologizing to that little brat.”

“You’re lucky I ran into the kid and his mom when I was getting your LEGO set. Surprisingly, he remembered me and had a lot to say about you. After cursing you out, his mom insisted her son deserves a genuine apology.”

Gojo scoffed. “What a bitch.”

In a warning tone, you said, “Watch it, Satoru, or you won’t get what you want at all.”

Realizing his mistake, he looked at you with apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry…”

“Anyway, I took her number and promised you’d deliver a proper apology.”

“Fine. Give me your phone, and I’ll call her right—”

“Oh no. If you think a phone call will cut it, you’re dead wrong, Toru. I’ll send you her number, and you’ll arrange to meet them somewhere nice. Apologize to the kid properly—maybe buy him a LEGO set or treat them to a meal. It’s up to you. But by the end of the day, I want to hear from her that you’ve apologized appropriately.”

Gojo was not pleased. Apologizing was one of his least favorite things to do, and now he had to do it to the kid who took the LEGO set he wanted most.

“Fine, I’ll do it. I’ll apologize to that brat. But only… only for your ass.”

“That’s not the only task on the list, Toru.”

He rolled his eyes and read the second item: “Task 2: Take an unforgettable Christmas photo. Must include: 1. Gojo Satoru must be naked!!!! 2. Use a Polaroid camera. 3. Showcase a Christmas theme (Get creative ♡).” He smirked at you before continuing. “So, uh, what exactly is this photo going to be used for?”

This time, it was your turn to blush. “That’s… not important.”

Of course, you planned to use it for a little personal pleasure during lonely moments.

Gojo’s knowing laugh made your cheeks burn brighter, but he moved on to the next task: “Task 3: Perform the ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ dance from Mean Girls on Christmas Eve.”

“Lucky for you, I know how much you love Mean Girls. And I know you’ll blow that bitch Regina out of the water with your moves.”

“Damn right, baby. I’ll rock your world with my dace that night.” He gave you a quick kiss before reading the final task: “Task 4: Santa-elf roleplay. Costumes and props will be provided by Gojo Satoru’s amazing girlfriend.” Looking back at you with sparkling eyes, he said, “God, I’ve never wanted to be a good boy more in my life. I’m in. For the gift I want most, I’ll be the best boy Santa’s ever seen.”

“Alright, Gojo Satoru. Let the good-boy operation begin.”

“Hell yeah. Good boys are the best.”

Whether or not that was true would be revealed on Christmas.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Christmas Eve had arrived in the blink of an eye. You and your boyfriend had been preparing food together since morning. Over the years, it had become a tradition to celebrate Christmas Eve with dinner, followed by opening presents on Christmas morning and spending the rest of the day celebrating in bed.

That’s where the real Christmas magic happened.

Around 8 PM, after finishing dinner and before diving into your main Christmas fun, you thought some hot chocolate would be perfect. As you were preparing the drinks in the kitchen together, a warmth spread through you as a pair of arms wrapped around your waist from behind. Your boyfriend’s familiar scent, mixed with his cologne, sent shivers down your spine.

“So, are you ready for my spectacular show?” he whispered, planting a soft kiss on your neck.

As you topped the mugs with marshmallows, you replied, “I think this might be the best Christmas night of my life.”

“I’ll do my best to make sure you never forget it. Like I promised, I’m going to be a good boy.”

Gojo was really taking this seriously. He had already completed the first task successfully. Last week, after getting the number from you, he reached out to the mom of the kid he had fought with at the LEGO store and arranged to meet him to apologize. Somehow, by the end of that meeting, they had become buddies, and Gojo even brought the kid over to your house to show off his LEGO collection. You had no idea how that happened, but in the end, your boyfriend had gained a new friend.

“I have to admit, you really kept your word. And you even gained a new friend while trying to be a good boy.”

Gojo let go of your waist, took the mug you handed him, and began praising his new friend with excitement. “Baby, that kid is seriously cool. Okay, maybe not as cool as you, but I never thought I’d like him this much.”

Carrying your hot chocolates into the living room, you sat on the couch and took a small sip. Noticing Gojo’s gaze fixed on the gifts under the tree, you realized he was probably about to pounce on them if you didn’t stop him. “Toru, don’t even think about it! We always open gifts in the morning.”

Realizing his plan was foiled, Gojo gave you a pouty look. “But I want to open them. Especially the one I want the most.”

“Then finish your tasks, love.”

He took a deep breath before standing up and pulling something out of his pocket, trying to hide it from your view.

You knew what it was. Something you’d been dreaming of for a long time.

“Before I hand over this precious photo, I’d like to thank my best friend Suguru for helping me take it. He also helped wrap me in ribbon. Now, if you’re ready, on the count of three, I’ll show you the amazing photo you’ll be using for, well, your moments.”

“TORU!!!”

“1… 2… 3!” Excitedly, he flipped the polaroid photo toward you, leaving you speechless.

You knew you had a handsome boyfriend—Gojo was undeniably attractive. But this photo was on a whole new level.

He was wrapped in a large red ribbon, his hands and body elegantly tied. And yes, even his sizable cock had its own little red bow. On his face was that signature smirk, the one that screamed he knew exactly how sexy he was.

This might just be your favorite task yet.

“Judging by your reaction, I’d say you like it, baby.”

“I-I really do,” you stammered.

Gojo leaned in to press a long, wet kiss to your lips before pulling back, resting his forehead against yours. “Use it whenever you want. If you’d like, I can take a hundred more like this. I love being your gift.”

“Toru…”

“So, do I get my most desired gift after completing the last task?”

Overwhelmed by the moment, you closed your eyes before answering. “Yes. That was the plan, but did you forget your dance performance?”

Pulling back instantly, Gojo grinned. “Baby, get ready to watch the dance of your life. I’ve been secretly practicing every day while you were at work, and trust me, I’m better than that bitch Regina.”

His excitement made you smile. “I don’t doubt it for a second.”

“Okay, okay, now go to our bedroom and stay there until I call you! Don’t come out until I say so!” He practically dragged you off the couch, pushing you into the bedroom before shutting the door and disappearing.

You couldn’t help but wonder what kind of performance he had planned. He was clearly taking this seriously. He really wanted your ass. Not that it would’ve mattered—you would’ve given it to him anyway. But making him work for it was just too entertaining.

Especially since you had some great plans for the final task.

About ten minutes later, you heard him call for you. Stepping out of the bedroom and into the living room, you noticed the lights were off, save for the glow of your Christmas tree (which, yes, he had actually painted red). Suddenly, music began playing, and Gojo appeared in the middle of the room.

As “Jingle Bell Rock” played, he started performing the exact dance from Mean Girls. From the girls’ outfits to the arm movements to the hip sways—everything was identical.

You couldn’t hold back your laughter, and when Gojo caught sight of your joy, he smiled softly, clearly pleased to see you enjoying yourself.

Just like in the movie, the music suddenly cut out, only for Pitbull’s “Give Me Everything” to start playing. Abandoning all sexy moves, Gojo began doing ridiculous breakdance moves, leaving you doubled over with tears streaming down your face.

You were currently watching the world’s most absurd yet entertaining dance performance. Your boyfriend, dressed in a slutty Santa costume, was rolling around on the floor. Occasionally, his skirt would lift, revealing his boxers—an unexpected bonus to the show.

When the song ended, he struck a bizarre pose and froze. You burst into applause, running to him and jumping into his arms. Cupping his face, you pulled him into a feverish kiss.

You really loved this man. He was the only person who would do this for you. Not just to get the gift he wanted most, but if you looked him in the eyes and simply asked, he’d agree to anything. He could never say no to you.

As his arms wrapped around your waist, he pulled you even closer. Within seconds, you found yourself lying back on the couch as Gojo broke the kiss.

“Did you like it?” He rubbed his nose against yours, his warm breath grazing your lips.

“I loved it. It was incredible. That bitch Regina has so much to learn from you.”

“Damn right, yeah.” He pressed his lips back to yours, kissing you passionately, full of heat and excitement.

Lost in the moment, you let yourself be swept away, but then the thought of his next task broke through your haze. This time, you were the one to pull back from the kiss.

“T-Toru…”

“Hmm?”

“Are you ready for your final task?”

“The Santa-elf roleplay? Baby, I was born ready. I can’t wait to see your elf costume.”

Oh, it seemed he didn’t realize he’d be the elf.

“Toru, my love… I hate to break it to you, but you’re going to be the elf.”

“Excuse me?” He sat up abruptly, shocked.

“You heard me right.”

“But I’m already wearing the sexy Santa costume. I thought—”

You sat up from where you were lying, smirking mischievously at your boyfriend. “As the most beautiful, sexy Santa with the softest, ass in the world, if I’m going to give you the gift you want most, Satoru, I think I should be the one wearing this costume.”

You took his hand, nodding toward the hallway for him to follow.

His excited eyes locked on yours as you led him to your bedroom, and your heart pounded like it might burst out of your chest. You had never done something like this before. Normally, you loved letting him take control. But tonight, you were calling all the shots.

Once in the bedroom, you pulled out the elf costume you’d been hiding from him for weeks and handed it to him. “Go to the bathroom, change into this, and only come back when I call for you. The moment you walk into this room wearing that costume, you’ll be my little elf slave. So don’t even think about doing anything that might upset Santa. Got it?”

“Yes ma'am.” Gojo stared at you, mesmerized, before taking the elf costume and fake ears from your hands and heading to the bathroom. In the meantime, you took off your Christmas-themed pajamas and slipped into your sexy Santa costume. After putting on the hat, you lit a few new Christmas-themed candles to set the mood in the room.

Taking one last look at yourself in the mirror, you called out, “You can come in now.”

Within seconds, the door opened, and Gojo stepped into the room in the green elf costume, complete with the pointy ears. His eyes wandered from your chest, where the tight top accentuated your breasts, down to the skirt that barely covered your ass, and then to your legs.

You could already feel the heat of his gaze imagining all the ways he wanted to fuck you.

Standing next to the bed, you gestured for him to come closer. Like an obedient little elf, he followed your command and stood in front of you.

“I know how hard you’ve worked this year, my little elf. As you know, it’s Christmas Eve, and after midnight, we have gifts to deliver.” Your hands began tracing his chest. “But I also want to make sure my special elves get their rewards. As my best worker, it’s my duty to give you your gift.”

“I live to serve, ma’am.”

“Good. Now, what is the gift you want most, my little elf?”

Gojo swallowed hard. “I-I, uh…”

Your hands paused their movement and grabbed the lapels of his jacket, pulling him closer. “You what? Answer me, or you won’t get what you want.”

“Your ass, ma’am,” he blurted out.

“My ass, huh? Do you think you’ve earned it?”

With an eager voice, he replied, “I was naughty this year, but I promise I’ll give your ass the best attention it’s ever had, ma’am.”

His answer made your already wet pussy throb even more. But before he could fuck your tight hole, you had something else in mind for his talented mouth.

“The best attention, huh? Can you give the same to my wet pussy?”

“Absolutely, ma’am.”

“Then get on your knees, my little elf.”

Without hesitation, your boyfriend dropped to his knees, looking up at you, waiting for his next command.

“Lift my skirt.”

His large hands found the hem of your skirt and slowly raised it, revealing your bare, glistening pussy. You knew he was internally battling to keep his composure.

“Do you want to taste it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, his voice filled with longing.

You ran your fingers through his hair, gently stroking it before giving your permission. “Then do it.”

Without wasting another second, Gojo buried his head between your legs and began licking you.

His tongue traced small circles around your clit, making your legs tremble with each pass. Your hands gripped his hair tighter, pulling him closer. You wanted more, needed his tongue to explore every inch of you.

“F-fuck… suck it!” Normally, you’d remember to say “please” because you knew how much he loved hearing it, but tonight, you were in control.

When Gojo’s lips wrapped around your clit and his tongue added pressure, you couldn’t help but let out a sharp cry. Each second he sucked, his tongue teasingly flicked against your most sensitive spot, pushing you closer to the edge.

“God… I didn’t know elves were this good with their tongues—AH, GOD, JUST LIKE THAT.”

When he slid his tongue into your pussy, your head fell back. Your hands tugged at his hair as his tongue moved in and out, making you crave his big cock even more.

“Stick your finger—your finger in my ass. Ugh… stretch it out before I let you fuck it. And don’t stop licking me.”

With a hot breath against your pussy, he replied, “As you wish, ma’am.”

His hand slid from your thigh to your ass, and he began circling your tight hole with his finger before slowly pushing it inside.

“Mhhhmph… fuck, fuck, fuck,” you moaned, overwhelmed by the mix of sensations.

He didn’t let up. While his finger stretched your ass, his tongue continued working on your pussy, planting noisy kisses on your clit. When his tongue found your sweet spot again, he sucked hard, sending you spiraling toward your orgasm.

“I’m gonna come in your mouth… ugh, don’t stop—I’m so close!”

“Please, come in my mouth,” Gojo begged, his voice dripping with need.

A few more swipes of his tongue and a deep thrust of his finger pushed you over the edge. With a scream, you came hard into his mouth, your legs shaking as your climax overwhelmed you.

All you wanted now was to kiss him and feel his big cock inside you.

When he finally pulled his head back from between your legs, his face was glistening with your wetness. You pulled him up to you, crashing your lips against his. Satoru stayed still, letting you take the lead, not daring to do anything that might disrupt your control.

When you pulled back to speak, both your lips were slick from saliva and your juices. “Lie on the bed and put your hands above your head.”

He looked into your eyes and you saw the burning desire in his blue gaze. You knew how much he wanted this.

Without hesitation, he lay down on the bed, clasping his hands above his head. From the nightstand, you grabbed the Christmas-themed handcuffs you’d bought and secured his wrists to the headboard.

“Now you’re completely mine, my little elf slave.” You climbed on top of him, pulling down the green pants of his costume. “Remember, there’s no pleasure for you tonight. You were a bad boy this year, so the only thing you’re getting is my tight ass.”

Pulling his pants and boxers off, you grabbed his hard cock, running your fingers over the tip.

“F-fuck…” Gojo gasped, a string of curses leaving his lips.

In a sharp tone, you warned, “You don’t speak unless I give you permission.”

He nodded obediently, his lips sealed. Aligning your ass with his cock, you lifted your skirt and slowly lowered yourself onto him, letting out a loud moan as he stretched you open.

“I can’t even—God, I can’t even talk.” You paused for a moment to adjust before starting to move, rocking your hips up and down in small motions.

“You’ve been waiting for this all year, haven’t you? Now—ah, God, now take what you’ve been dreaming of.” you said, your voice breathy as your movements quickened.

“Y-yes, ma’am. You’re the best gift I could ever have,” Gojo groaned deeply.

“Yes, I’m the best gift—for you. Only I can give you this,” you panted, feeling the fullness of his cock inside you.

Every nerve in your body was alive, overwhelmed by the sensation of his thick cock stretching your ass. The sound of your ass slapping against him only spurred you to move faster. His balls hit against your skin, sending waves of pleasure through you.

Throwing your head back, you moved your hips even faster. “Are you close, my little elf?”

“Yes, ma’am… oh, so—so close,” he said, his voice strained, his eyes shut tight.

“Then be a good elf and—ah, God, come for me… come for me now!”

With a few final bounces, you felt his release fill you, the warmth spilling into you as you collapsed onto his chest.

Both of you were panting, your breaths uneven as you tried to come down from the high. After a few minutes of resting, you lifted your head to look at him, your mischievous but obedient boyfriend. “Merry Christmas, my love.” You kissed him softly, savoring the moment.

Gojo was still catching his breath. “To you too, baby. Luckily, Santa gave me the gift I wanted most. I think I might actually enjoy being a good boy.”

Your fingers gently stroked his cheeks as you chuckled. “You definitely deserved it. Santa would do anything for you.”

“And I’d do anything for her. Also, baby, I realized I get extra hard when you’re the one in control.”

“Oh, you liked it, huh?” You placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Yep. Let’s do this every year. But next year, I want to be Santa. This costume was so itchy.”

Your lips curled into a smile as you continued to leave small kisses on his cheek. “Deal.”

“In that case, untie me, and let’s put our pajamas back on and watch Mean Girls while drinking hot chocolate.” Mean Girls was probably your favorite movie as a couple. You watched it at least once a month.

While untying the cuffs, you said, “I don’t think the hot chocolate is hot anymore.”

Freed from the handcuffs, Gojo rubbed his wrists where the marks were. “Then I’ll just have something else that’s hot.”

“Like soup—HEY, TORU!” Before you could finish your sentence, you suddenly found yourself on your back as he climbed on top of you, grinning mischievously.

“Something better than soup.” As he lowered his head and made his way between your legs again, you realized you’d be staying in bed a little longer.

In that moment, you were reminded once again how much you loved him, whether he was good or naughty all year long.

But deep down, you’d always love him more when he was naughty.

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

gojo satoru art by @1004_shvn on X

dividers by @strangergraphics @cxltbr1de

[lost-romantique]

Blitzø's Realization & Feelings

I like how Blitz is initially confused the moment Stolas arrives on scene and breaks into song...

He understands that Stolas just saved him from getting his head chopped off, but he still doesn't understand what he's doing at the trial.

After all, in Blitzø’s mind Stolas is over him, and moved on the moment he saw Stolas having the time of his life dancing with BTB.

In Blitzø’s memory reel Stolas has his top eyes open, and I think to Blitzø he reads it as Stolas seeing and relishing in that kiss, in that moment. Blitzø doesn't even consider the fact that it was a drunken kiss.

But the moment Stolas takes all the blame for himself, things take a turn...

It clicks for Blitzø, and he's just in pure and utter shock as he sees just how much Stolas genuinely and truly loves him.

It's at this moment where he says the words, "I don't want to live a life without you by my side."

Blitzø takes this time to finally let his emotions pour out like a fucking waterfall.

Whereas compared to Ghostfuckers he just subtly acknowledges it.

His expression drops from realization to pure panic at Stolas' actions. Blitzø doesn't want to die, but at the same time, he definitely doesn't want someone he cares about to take the fall for him.

"What are you doing!? I don't deserve this!"

"I realized too late!" Blitzø acknowledges that he realized both Stolas’ feelings and his own feelings too late in the game.

Blitzø in Apology Tour didn't understand his own feelings, let alone Stolas’ feelings. He tries to, but he can't.

"Don't give your life to clean my slate."

What I love about this line is that it reads as: Don't sacrifice yourself to absolve me of my crimes. Blitzø makes it clear he doesn't want this.

"You’re my heart."

Blitzø breaks down and says these words because to Blitzø this is what Stolas is, the key to his heart that he's kept locked up for years, and someone he wants to give his whole heart too.

Because Blitzø closed off his heart after the fire. His love is something that he believed could hurt someone, but with Stolas, he's worth that risk.

The moment Stolas is wrapped in chains, Blitzø moves on instinct, almost as if he's trying to get out of his own chains so he can run to Stolas.

Felt like it would be a disservice not to show the clip that destroyed me. 😀

Blitzø, the moment he's freed of his chains Blitzø says the words, "No- no!" in disbelief, shock, and desperation.

Blitzø is so desperate to stop Stolas from what he's doing, begging him to do anything to stop this from happening. And if that meant getting himself killed, he'd do it.

Because he doesn't want a repeat of this happening. It's one thing for people to leave Blitzø, he’s used to that, but it's another to have them die, especially in front of him.

He breaks down when he fears his worse fears have come true: that Stolas is dead and he can't do anything to stop it.

It's why Blitzø is so shocked and surprised the moment he sees Stolas alive, because his worse fears didn't happen.

The moment Blitzø gets the reassurance that he's is loved by Stolas he falls into that caretaking role almost instantly, since he knows Stolas is hurting right now.

He's taking steps being extra gentle, extra reassuring, extra soft, even going as far as to fluff the pillow on his couch.

It vaguely reminds me of how Blitzø is able to sorta gage what people's needs are. In this moment, Blitzø was about to shoot Creepzo, but instead he opts to beat Creepzo with the end of his gun once he realizes Fizz is on the verge of a panic attack.

What I love about this shot is that this is the most at peace Blitzø has ever looked in the entire show.

He's just so grateful that he's alive and that Stolas is alive.

~~~~~~

Anyway, wanted to include this bit because I love how Sam Haft pointed out that Blitzø leaves Mastermind more self-actualized.

Whereas for Stolas, he leaves Mastermind more humbled as he gets a taste of how truly privileged he is.

[fettuccin-e]

The First Time

Kinktober Day 15: Size Kink

Tags: Frankie "Catfish" Morales x Reader, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv (pls wrap it up irl fuck them kids), fingering (r!recieving), oral (r!giving and recieving), Frankie's monster schlong, yeah he's got a giant dick we all know it (w/c: 1.5K)

A/N: Part of the rapid-fire Kinktober catch up! My absolutely massive size kink really let itself free with this one (get it?? massive?? hehehe) but anyway please enjoy my ramblings about taking Frankie's gigantic schlong. (I have been using these prompts from flightlessangelwings for Kinktober!)

The first time you undress Frankie, really see him for the first time, bare and open to your gaze, you think you’re fucking hallucinating. He’d been so shy when you’d first met, so unassuming next to Pope and Will and Benny. Tugging the brim of his cap to cover his eyes, a timid little smile playing on his face as you flirted with him, not his friends. 

You couldn’t have expected the fucking monster between his thighs the first time you have him naked in your bed, his cock so thick you can barely wrap your hand around him. You don't expect the way you choke on him when you try to blow him, only for you to realize that you hadn't even made it halfway.

He doesn’t fuck you that night, the both of you too high on each other’s bodies and too tipsy from the bottle of wine you’d shared earlier.

“Need time to get you ready, hermosa,” he whispers in your ear, fucking you so hard and deep on his fingers you nearly cry. “Next time baby, next time.”

The first time he fucks you, he doesn’t make it all the way. You think you're ready, despite Frankie’s protests, begging him to fuck you, grinding into his mouth, into his fingers as he works orgasm after orgasm out of your heaving body. Through your blurry eyes, you can see the way his hips thrust gently into the mattress, fucking himself into your sheets as he eats you out, groaning into your pussy as you gush down his face. It’s fucking maddening.

He lines himself up, pressing into you gently, so gently, but God, it’s already too much. Too fucking much. You gasp as the thick head of his cock presses into your entrance, spreading you so much wider than his fingers, wider than you’ve ever been stretched. It fucking stings, and you dig your nails into Frankie’s shoulders as you try to take it for him.

He only sinks in halfway before your body just can’t take it anymore, squeezing him so tight that he can’t possibly move deeper. Tears spring to your eyes at the feeling of it, and you try to apologize, but Frankie only leans down to seal his mouth to yours, kissing the breath out of your lungs.

“Feels so fucking good,” he mutters against your lips, sounding so fucking wrecked, and you throb around him at the sound of it. “Your little pussy is so fucking tight.” 

You feel lightheaded at the destroyed rasp of his voice, and when he moves, you feel lightning rocket up your spine, whining loudly against his lips. He grins, the shy boy from the bar long gone as he thrusts until he’s halfway in again, fucking you on only half his cock as you keen beneath him. You have no idea how he’ll ever fit inside completely, how just half of him fills you up more than anyone else ever has. “Wanna take all of you,” you gasp, “want it all inside, fuck, Frankie, please.”

He shushes you gently, smoothing his hands down your sides. “Mi amor, we need more time to get you ready,” he murmurs softly. “Next time, baby, next time.”

He fucks you just like that, breaking you open with just half of his cock and fisting the base in a large, warm palm until you squeeze around him with your orgasm. When you beg him to cum inside you, he groans, pumping you full, gripping tight to your thighs. You promise yourself that next time you'll take all of him.

The first time you take Frankie, really, truly take him, you think that he’s more affected than you are.

You’re so wet, dripping down your thighs from Frankie’s endless preparation, his lips shiny with your slick as he leans down to kiss you slowly, deliberately. You find that you don’t mind the taste of yourself.

He’s been fucking you on his thick fingers for what seems like hours, spreading you so wide, wide enough that you thought you’d break.

You don’t know how many times he’s made you cum, how many times he’s told you that it’ll make you looser, get you ready. You think he just likes watching you fall apart, his eyes blown wide as you tremble against the sheets. 

When he finally, finally notches the thick tip of his cock against your entrance, pushing forward slowly, you try to brace yourself for pain. It’s so much, he’s so much, and it should hurt, fuck, you should feel like you’re being ripped apart. 

But your mind is foggy with desperation, your need to finally fit him inside, that you can barely feel the pain at all. You can only gasp for air as his cock stretches you wide, pressing in so deep it’s like you can feel it in your lungs. And he just slides in, easy as that, as if it was easy all along.

And as much as you moan and gasp, your fingers clutching into the skin of his back, it is nothing compared to the way Frankie fucking whines at the feeling of it, his head dropping into the crook of your neck as he stills his hips, pressed in as deep as he can get.

“Fuck me, please, oh my God, Frankie,” you gasp, grinding your hips against his on pure instinct, desperate to get him in deeper, somehow. But his hands tighten on you, gripping so hard you think he’ll leave bruises.

“Stop,” he says, deep and raspy and fucking primal. “Stop fucking moving, shit, ‘m trying not to fucking cum.” He sounds goddamn sinful, and your pussy throbs at the sheer idea of him filling you up just from finally fitting inside you. You let him breathe through it, raking your nails gently up his back. He shivers at your touch.

You suck air in through your teeth when he pulls out, just barely, only to fuck back in. He does it again, and again, and again, thrusting so deep into you that his cock fucking drags into your sweet spot, not even trying. You’ve never felt so fucking full before.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so goddamn tight, don’t even know how I can fuckin’ fit,” he mutters, pulling your thighs tighter around his hips and pulling you down onto his thick cock with every thrust. “This little cunt is just sucking me in, ‘s like she can’t get enough.”

“God, yes, Frankie please,” you choke out between labored breaths, your vision blurring at the edges. All you can fucking feel, hear, smell is Frankie above you, warm and towering over you, filling you up so perfect.

“So goddamn pretty wrapped around my cock,” he growls, pounding into you hard enough that tears start to pour down your cheeks. “My greedy baby, am I big enough for you?”

“Fuck! Yes, it’s so- it’s so fuckin’ big, Frankie, I can feel it in my fucking stomach.” You’re slurring your words, your brain turned to mush as Frankie breaks you apart so viciously. He reaches between you to rub quick circles into your clit with a calloused thumb, and your body locks up, your back arching so far it presses your tits into Frankie’s strong chest.

“That’s right, honey, just fuckin’ feel it. Nobody else can fill you up like I can, right?” he snarls, and you can only nod frantically, choked moans punched from your throat every time he thrusts inside you. “Cum, sweetheart. Show me how much you love my big cock.”

And you have no other choice but to fucking scream, pulsing violently around him as you cum. You’re fucking lost in it, broken apart in the best way possible, and Frankie groans, stilling inside of your as he fills you up with cum. It’s pure bliss, a goddamn revelation, and you don’t think it’s ever going to fucking stop. He smothers your cries with a kiss, licking into your mouth and soothing you like a wild animal as you both ride out the aftershocks. 

When you finally feel yourself start to breathe normally again, to find it in yourself to blink blearily up at him, smiling softly when you see him already staring down at you. As he pulls out of you, you feel the emptiness immediately, whining as he shushes you gently. “I know, honey, I know,” he murmurs, falling beside you and pulling you into him. “You did so good for me.”

“Damn right I did,” you murmur, sleep already weighing down your eyelids. “Who else is going to take that monster dick of yours?”

He laughs, loud and gruff in the most perfectly Frankie-way you could possibly imagine. “Don’t act like you didn’t fucking love it, hermosa.”

And, well, you don’t really have arguments for that.

[doctorho]

dripping velvet, purring dark

Academy era Viktor x fem! curvy reader, 4.5k, no warnings only love in this house (ok there is a conversation about some people being idiots which can be interpreted as the reader getting unwanted attention at a party but it's nothing graphic or anything i promise and no-one is mean to her) also i made viktor horny and slightly subby because that's what the gremlins in my brain wanted. you're welcome. yeah! hi! not sure what this is, but here you go. the reader is described as she/her here (and curvy, and soft, and she is wearing an evening gown, because i wanted to think about pretty dresses). idk. have a thing. happy friday.

Viktor likes to think of himself as a person who's usually capable of focusing on things pretty well. On the task at hand. Give him a faulty circuit and he'll poke at it long enough to find the broken component, no problem. An error in the calculations? He'll find that missing minus sign or forgotten exponent, easy. He'll strip a wire in his sleep.

The task at hand now, though? The problem?

He had to sit through a whole evening of presentations at the academy end-of-year party, put on a polite face for the investors, and pretend not to care that one idiot after another was lining up to flirt with you while he was watching from the sidelines. You were wearing a dress that felt sinful to look at, and there was something primitive gnawing at the inside of his chest begging to be let out, and he had to just stand there and nod through the conversations, pretend he wasn't slowly boiling from the inside out.

And he was failing miserably. 

He’d known he was in trouble from the moment he saw you that night – all expensive fabric covering smooth curves and soft-looking skin, sparkling eyes and easy smiles, and he’d been done for. Before this, it’d been much easier to compartmentalize his feelings; before this, it'd been easier to ignore them. 

Before he’d kept his distance, emotionally and physically speaking, because, well, it’d been easier. He'd seen you around the Academy, all bubbling laughs and raw-honest radiant smiles and confident solutions, and he'd known that you looked…appealing, but he wasn't in the habit of holding up any illusions about what you might think of him in return. His place was in the dark dusty corner of the lab, turning over the ever-ticking problems, while you were out there shining like the sun. And sometimes you came by the lab, with new ideas or suggestions or just to borrow some equipment or ask about a shipment, and he had resigned to his role of staying at his desk pretending he wasn't burning to be closer to your orbit. 

But when he sees you in the low lighting of the party, leaning to the bar and laughing, something just breaks in him. And then he can’t pretend to ignore it any longer. And sure, maybe he’s a little bit drunk, it was easier to stand these events that way, but it still feels like a solid-honest truth in his bones that he wanted to get closer to you, and suddenly he couldn’t stand the conversation he was in the middle of. Because one of them – the sour idiots he’d catalogued in his head for the whole night, the stupid people trying to impress you with their embellished stories and inherited wealth who weren’t worth your time – one of them was circling you like a hyena again, smiling.

You were wearing a dark, floor-length gown that wasn’t, on a purely technical level, much different from what about 50% of the other guests were wearing. However, it seemed to create a significant caveat that even though there wasn’t anything indecent in the dress itself, seeing it on you made him feel like maybe he shouldn’t look at you for too long or he might spontaneously combust. There was a slit on the side that revealed a more than generous amount of leg when you walked, and his focus kept wandering from that to your silhouette, the soft curve of your hips, your chest, your face – no, that’s worse, don’t stare, she'll notice – and truly, he had to force himself to keep his eyes at least vaguely on the vicinity of the person who was currently talking to him. Something about statistics and return investment. Yes. 

He nods, pretending to look interested.

The dress drapes over your hips in soft little cascades, the fabric shimmering lightly as you moved, and something in his brain was itching, begging to run his fingers over it, to know what it feels like, to know what you feel like under it, all soft and warm and pliable under his fingers, and preferably sighing something into the crook of his neck, and–

“We'd like to get our investment back within a year,” the guy that's talking to him says – Viktor can't even remember his name, and he doesn’t really even care – and he just shifts his eyes back to the guy slowly. 

“A year?” he repeats, with the barest amount of feigned interest, and the guy goes off in a whole new tangent. Viktor shifts his posture, and lets his eyes glide over to where you were again. 

One of those idiots, one he thankfully doesn’t have the displeasure of knowing personally but who must be the son of some crooked diplomat, says something to you and you scoff through a smile, roll your eyes, and lean further into the counter at the bar. Viktor has to pretend to be present for his own conversation – yes, the new coating material for the wires was more heat-resistant, no, there was still the issue of mechanical stress, they were working on it – and you say something in answer to the current idiot (third of the night, he’d counted), and it is killing him that he doesn’t know what it is. 

You’d turned down the first two, from what he could tell. But this latest idiot was still talking to you, like he was in any way entitled to your company. And it's making something inside Viktor raise its hackles, and he doesn’t especially like feeling like that, because he couldn't justify feeling like that to himself in any tangible way, and then it all just boiled down to a resigned even if she deserves better than that i have no business dictating that for her. 

He's just about to focus on the conversation he was supposedly participating in again when something happens. He can't make out the details, but imbecile number three seems to lean way too close to you, says something, and smiles in a way that makes something cold creep down the back of Viktor's neck. And your expression coldens, too, and you say something to him, and turn away, more rigid than you'd been the whole evening. 

“Excuse me,” Viktor is saying to the Investment Guy before he can fully think it through, his own voice feeling distant in his ears, and then he's walking to the bar. 

You're alone – the idiot had had the sense to leave you alone quickly, at least. That's good. Viktor isn't sure what he's doing, but then he's leaning to the bar next to you and ordering another drink and trying to look like he isn't thinking too hard about what to do next. 

“Whatever he just proposed to you,” Viktor says slowly, looking over the bar instead of directly at you, “I assure you you can do better.”

He can hear you take a deep breath, shift a little, and sigh it out with what sounded like almost a laugh. 

“Yeah,” you agree, “I don't know what it is about people like that that makes them think they can just…” You sigh again, and make a hand gesture towards the room. ”You know.”

“Unfortunately,” he answers, resigned, “yes. I do.” 

He gets his drink and thanks the bartender, and then leans to the counter too, mimicking your posture, holding the drink and letting it swirl around in his glass. “Have you talked with anyone actually worth your time tonight?” 

You hmm. Then, “there was a little girl earlier that told me some fascinating things about insect metamorphosis.” You say casually. 

And Viktor laughs. Without meaning to, he laughs, and you smile in response, visibly relaxing a little.

“I don't think she was on the guest list though.” You continue. 

He hums in response, and rearranges his grip on the handle of his cane. “Sounds much more interesting than the conversations I've been in tonight.”

“I know,” you answer, and he can hear the smile in your voice, “you think we could swap out one of the main speakers with her?” 

He hmms again, looking over the stage thoughtfully. “I think it would count as a public service,” he nods a little, considering the list of speakers yet to come, “what do you think, who'd be a good target?”

You shift in your place, looking over the same list of speakers, plastered over the walls on both sides of the stage. “The financial talk,” you answer, “Mr. Ross. I'd much rather listen to insect facts than another boring talk about investing.”

Viktor nods. “You distract him, I'll whack him unconscious?” he offers, and you laugh. You laugh, and it warms something in him. 

“And then what?” you continue, still smiling, and he has to look away to keep his composure. 

He shrugs. “Eh,” he answers, “we drag him to a bathtub somewhere and act like he just passed out there?" He shrugs, "I happen to know three ways to get out of this room that I'm pretty sure we could use unnoticed.”

“Uh-huh,” you answer, “and then we just find the girl and ask her if she wants to talk about bugs for half an hour. Easy.”

“Exactly,” he agrees, “and then we congratulate ourselves for making the evening better for everybody.”

"Except maybe Mr. Ross."

"No," he counters, looking over the crowd, "I think he would prefer a nice little nap. Surely not even he wants to hear himself talk all the time." He takes a sip of his drink, "and I think waking up in a bathtub would be a nice change of pace to the rumors of other places he seems to have a habit of waking up in after events such as these."

“Good point,” you shift in your place, settling to lean to the counter a bit closer to him. “Perfect plan. But why'd you get to whack him unconscious and not me?”

Viktor blinks. Lifts one eyebrow. “Because you are by far more distracting than I am,” he answers, “and I thought the plan could use the distraction.”

“I don't think that's true,” you answer, “I think you're plenty distracting on your own.”

Now, he lets himself look at you. Really, properly look at you, and not even half-trying to hide it. You're smiling now, shoulders relaxed, holding your drink with fingers wrapped loosely around it, and in the warm lights of the bar there's a golden glow on your skin, and something breathless at the bottom of his stomach is aching to get closer to you, to touch you, to see if his hand would fit on your waist as well as he thinks it would, to see how you would react to that, if he could make you smile in a different way, what sounds he could get you to make for him–

“Agree to disagree,” he says, averts his eyes, and takes a sip of his drink. 

Tries to tell that wild-hungry purring thing in him to behave. 

Someone reasonable comes to talk to you – and it's about work, which is…something, probably, he has to stop himself from thinking it's better than those earlier idiots, because who's he to decide that for you? He gives you a casual wave and a nod as you depart with a smile and get swept up in the conversation about new ideas and solutions and this-new-thing you've been looking at. And he watches as you start talking excitedly, all golden and glittering, easy conversation and confident smiles, and quietly (not-so quietly) he concludes that maybe you hadn't had many worthwhile conversations with any of the guests that night because you were the most worthwhile person in there to talk to. 

He stays there sipping his drink and wondering what would be the closest appropriate time to slip out. He'd made an appearance, and technically nothing could be expected from him beyond that point. Sure, Jayce might tell him he could've stayed a bit longer, he could use the support, but nothing dramatic would happen. 

The party drones on, and he makes no effort to move – and really, he tries not to think about it too much, but that was at least in part because he wanted to keep looking at you. He promptly ignores this, even when you're laughing at something someone else said and that heavy-dark-purring something at the bottom of his stomach doesn't like it very much. 

Someone comes to ask for his opinion on something, and with a tiny sigh, he lets them pull him into the loop of conversations again. Yes, we are trying to simplify the design, no we can't cut back from the materials, they are what they are for a reason. 

Somewhere around his third ‘Why would you think that?’ of that particular conversation, he's had enough. People were stupid, and he's had enough. He's just trying to come up with ways to get out of the conversation preferably without starting a scandal of some sort, when he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder. He turns around to look at who it belongs to, and then everything in his head is quiet for a moment. 

“Hey,” you say, smiling, “sorry to interrupt, but can I steal you away for a moment?” you ask, slipping your hand feather-light down his arm, and he has to suppress a shiver. 

Viktor furrows his brows and opens his mouth, and then, like an idiot, says nothing. But he turns to leave, thankful for the window of opportunity.  

“You remember that thing we talked about before?” you continue as you steer him away from the earlier group smoothly, “I found someone who's interested in those three escape routes you had up your sleeve.” 

“Who?” he asks, because that's the only thing he can think of. You've linked your arm with his, and you're leaning on him, and you're soft and warm and you smell good, and he doesn’t trust his ability to form a full sentence. 

“Me,” you answer, “and judging by how you just looked out there,” you continue, “you.”

Viktor swallows, and something in his brain purrs at the idea. 

“This way,” he says, nodding towards an old stage exit, and honestly, he doesn’t even care why you want to leave, he's just grateful for the distraction and the company and drinking in every warm square inch of skin contact that you're willing to give him, even if it is just walking with your shoulder pressed against his. 

If it turned out to be a plot where you actually wanted to whack someone unconscious, he'd worry about that later. For now he was just happy to leave, and happier that you were leaving with him. 

It's easy to slip away from the crowd, and into the space between the stage curtain and the wall, if you know where you're going. You effortlessly fall a bit further from his side but keep his hand on yours, letting him pull you along, and quietly he wonders how and why and holy shit. He decides not to question it though, and keeps walking through the dim space between the cold old wall and the cascades of warm heavy velvet curtains. 

“Do you want to leave the party,” he asks, voice quiet now that the background buzz of people was muffled by the curtain, “or just get away from it?” 

You hmm behind him, clearly through a smile, and he makes the mistake of looking back at you. Surrounded by the dark red velvet curtains and only slivers of light from each side, his head – and the rest of his body – get entirely the wrong idea of what you're doing in there, because you look like a goddess in the small dim space, and he might crumble into ashes if he keeps looking at you, or he might do something stupid like pull you closer and press you into the wall, to see if your eyes would widen, if you'd gasp from the cold wall, if he could find other ways to make you gasp–

so he turns his eyes away and keeps talking. 

He quickly finds he has to clear his throat before he can do that. “There is a staff entrance that goes past the kitchen a little ways further,” he says, and motions forwards, “or there is a disused indoor balcony surrounding the stage. You would be able to see the party, but it'd feel…removed.”

You lean closer, close enough that when your voice is muffled by the surrounding velvet, it feels like you're speaking right in his ear, and he has to swallow and remind himself that that's just situational coincidence, nothing more. 

“Why do you know so many ways to get out of here?” you ask, “You sneak out a lot?” 

“I am a fan of interesting architecture,” he answers, “and not as much a fan of pretentious social gatherings.” 

“Fair,” you answer, then lean your chin on his shoulder, and he feels like his spine might spontaneously melt. “In your expertise, what would you recommend?”

“Well,” he says, trying to make it sound casual and like he wasn't breathless at all, “I think the balcony has some fairly interesting architecture.” And the lights of the party would look pretty from there. And you'd both get a breather away from the crowd. And he'd get to keep talking to you a little bit longer. And, as selfish as the thought felt, he couldn't deny it; he'd get to keep having you to himself for a little bit longer. 

“Show me the balcony,” you smile, and he obliges. Happily, he obliges. So he pulls you into a narrow staircase, and then, up. 

At the end of it there is a room that could, only by technical definition alone, be called a balcony – it was more like a hole carved into the wall, having at some point been used for seating or equipment space at events and concerts, and now just served as half-forgotten extra storage. It had, he supposed, once upon a time looked like the banquet hall did, all smooth surfaces and warm lights and thematically switched-out decorations, but now it was mostly the standard red velvet and dark wood and light marble, forgotten by the party and some of the golden light from the hall spilling into it by pure coincidence. There were velvet curtains on each side of the room, and you drop his hand to go look over the railing, and down at the party. 

His hand instantly feels cold without yours in it, but he tries his best to ignore this, and follows you to look down at the party, too. 

It looks much smaller from up there. Less chaotic. 

“I didn't know there was a space like this here.” You say quietly, “can they see us?” 

“Part of the design,” he answers, “you're not supposed to notice these spaces unless people want you to. Good place to hide extra orchestra pieces and make it feel like the sound is coming from nowhere. And–” he looks over at the people, colorful and mingling, “no, they can't. Not unless you want them to.” Then, he smiles, just a little. “But they'll be able to hear us, if we direct our voices upwards and wait for things to quiet down there first.”

You turn to look at him. 

“Sloped ceilings,” he explains with a shrug, “again, good for a hidden orchestra accompaniment.” 

“But they can't hear us talking?*

“Not over themselves,” he answers, “ironic, I know.”

You hum thoughtfully and turn around, with your back to the railing, and then you look at him and he needs to kick his brain back in line. You were gorgeous in the dim lighting, all relaxed and smiling, and–

He grips the handle of his cane a little tighter. 

“Good,” you say, and the way you say it – all quiet and warm and liquid – makes something in him purr again, entirely against his better judgement. 

“Why is it good?” he asks, because he has to hold on to some semblance of logic here, because otherwise he might just vaporize out into the atmosphere. 

“Why do you think?” you ask, slowly turning to face him, and oh that just isn't fair. You're just there, just a warm breath of space away, all soft and pretty and languid–

He doesn’t know what to say, so he goes with what feels like the safest course of action. 

“In case we want to plot any more ways to violently derail the evening's program?”

You exhale a small laugh and lean back. 

And then you lift a hand on his chest, and he's pretty sure his heart might be overheating soon. 

“Sure,” you answer, “that.” You inch closer, and Viktor is having a hard time remembering how to breathe. “Or anything else we might not want them overhearing.”

“Like?” He exhales, careful not to break the moment, and then you smile, warm and private and for him, and his insides liquify into warm, honey-thick goo, and oh, he’s not going to recover from this. 

“Like,” you repeat slowly, and then you push yourself away from the balcony railing, just slightly, into the side of the wall covered by the velvet curtain, and he lets you pull him with you, he's not stupid. His brain – along with the rest of his body – might be in the process of actively melting, but he's not stupid. If you wanted to pull him into a shadowed, velvet-covered corner, he would follow no questions asked, especially on a night like this when his insides were buzzing and you looked like that. When you looked at him like that. You smile again, and stop moving when your back hits a wall, and then you pull him just close enough to whisper into his ear. “...Anything else we might not want them overhearing.” you repeat, and, yeah, Viktor is close to becoming the best documented case of human combustion in recorded history. 

In the dim lighting, he searches your eyes into his, and you watch him, waiting, radiating heat between him and the velvet-covered wall. He's not sure why you were acting like this, but all signs were pointing towards you wanting the same thing he did, and he's not sure what he did to get this lucky, but with his every cell buzzing and vibrating and keening over to get closer, he wasn't about to let the opportunity pass. 

He wants to ask ‘why me’ or ‘are you sure’ but what comes out is a broken, desperate whisper of a “can I touch you?”, and you answer with a grin and with your fingers tangled to the front of his shirt, pulling him closer. 

“Yes,” you breathe, “please.”

And really, he wouldn't have thought it would be so simple, but it's the please that does him in – just one whispered word and his brain short-circuits in an overflowing flash of white-hot need. Need to trigger that again, need to please, and need to finally give in to the pleasure waiting to boil. And then it all comes rushing out; the hunger. 

His hands are on your waist in an instant, and his cane clatters to the ground as he leans his weight on you and the wall and for a moment, he has the sense to hope the curtains don't come tumbling down, and they don't, which is good enough for him, because then he can let go of that particular worry and focus solely on finding your lips to his and making the most of every second of this that you're willing to give him. 

The sensations hit his brain like flashes of bright light; how soft you are under his fingers, like he'd hoped, the fabric smooth and silky, giving away easily under his touch. How warm you are, warm and breathing in a fluttered little gasp, the dusty old velvet mixing in with your sweet scent, and then when he gets his lips on you–

After that it's just golden-dark-velvet-honey-thick bliss. You breathe out a small sound that drips down his spinal cord and goes straight to the purring pit at the bottom of his stomach, and he swallows it with a hungry, greedy, desperate groan that comes from somewhere deep inside his chest, and his head is swimming with warm and real and soft and for me–

He is happily overloading his brain with this, and he doesn’t even care. He presses closer to you and you exhale another sweet little sound that makes him bare his teeth, and then his lips are on your neck and he doesn’t know anything except that he wants you to keep making those sounds and he likes the way your hands tangle in his hair and tug. 

“Tell me what you want,” he mutters to the skin of your neck, pulling you closer by the waist, and absolutely relishing in the way your chest rises and falls with short little pants he can hear you take in and out. In and out, and as he tugs at your waist again, just a bit closer, and drags his teeth against your pulse lightly, one of those exhales turns into a sweet little whine. 

He grins against your skin. 

He doesn’t waste the time or energy pretending he isn't an absolute mess over you, right now – his own breathing ragged and fast and his heart hammering in his ears, his whole body buzzing with want – but that didn't mean seeing you react that way didn't make him want to purr. 

Didn't make his insides heat up with I did that. I got her like this. She made that sound for me. For me. It's mine. 

You take a breath, slow and rugged, and then you tug him towards one of the velvet-covered seats. And he moves like he's floating, letting you guide him, because what else is he going to do? You tug him into the seat and he sits on it, gladly, and stays there looking up at you with his eyes wide and only half-lidded and his heart hammering, waiting for more. 

You give him another one of those small, private, knowing smiles, your eyes hazy, and then you step to stand right in front of him. 

And then you hover over him, just waiting for him to pull you into his lap. He does, because he is selfish and greedy and burning, and he's pretty sure he's going to implode if he doesn’t get that delicious pressure on him soon, and his hand fits your waist perfectly, and then when when you do straddle him, your hips pressing down on his, he whines. He lets out a breathless little whine, he can feel it in the base of his spine, and it makes that hunger in him want more. 

“Only the voices directed upwards travel down there, right?” you ask, voice quiet and dripping right into his ear and pooling at the bottom of his stomach. 

He swallows. “Yes.” 

You hum thoughtfully, and press your body closer to his, all soft and warm and perfect, sinking your lips down to his neck and he shivers, instinctually tilting back his head with a sigh, exposing more of his neck to you. 

“Better keep quiet, then.” 

[anam-mana]

Fucking FASCINATED by Astarion’s Test of Love with the nymph at the circus.

When she asks

1. When he’s happiest

2. What he wants most

3. What his biggest fear is

You gain approval for responding with the very surface level things that are a little true but not really the real answer.

1. Elbow deep in gore

2. Revenge

3. Breaking a nail

But getting the answers right and truly passing the test means gaining disapproval, because he is both upset that you are saying the quiet parts about himself out loud, and that you are revealing the deepest truest parts of himself to a stranger (the nymph testing you.)

1. Astarion has never been truly happy

2. Freedom

3. Being enslaved

There are so many ways to interpret this, so many ways to play the test out based on your character and your relationship dynamic, and it’s brilliant writing on Larian’s part in that way.

Personally, the way I interpret it is as a parlell to the mirror scene in Act 1.

Astarion is thrilled at what he admits is “shallow praise” because the shallowest parts of his appearance make him feel beautiful.

But, if, when “being reflected through someone else’s eyes” he is instead met with objectively true and more unique qualities of his, like laugh lines and the way his hair curls around his ears, he becomes distressed and begs to just be told he’s beautiful.

Astarion puts a LOT of work into performing his outer persona just as he wants it, he puts a lot of work into controlling how he is perceived.

When in the mirror scene and the Test of Love someone sees past that immediately, seemingly with little effort, he doesn’t know how to handle it.

[thebestnova]

bunny hybrid!yandere x pissed off empress!reader

Imagine a bunny hybrid who's main role in life is to kill for the elites of his burrow. He is set to rule his burrow until it is destabilized, with he and his fellow elites tried for treason.

The poor man, being as beautiful as he was, was spared and gifted to an unprecedentedly young empress.

Everyone knew what he'd done to her, to her family.

"Do you remember me?" she asks as he is presented to her in her throne room.

"Of course," he says, smiling as ruthlessly as he did that day. Though he is bound in both chains and powerful enchantments, he looks strong. "How's your scar?"

"Bold question." You smile back, but you're sure it doesn't reach your eyes. You force yourself to not touch the healed gash on your collarbone. "You'll learn better."

I've become stronger.

But what happens if the poor bunny is not as cold as he seems?

includes; femdom, revenge, oral (fem receiving), degradation and masochism (yan receiving/being), forced marriage, dubcon, hurt little comfort

“I mustn't give in to temptation, Your Highness… To give in to such beastly, masculine instincts…”

You tear the man down to his knees by his hair. "It's 'Your Majesty' now. You made sure of that.

“And I don't care about any of that. You're mine, now. You're in heat, so let loose, according to my command.”

“B-But…” The man began to plead, covering his growing erection with his hands. “It's my first time doing this… I don't want to be like the other dumb bunnies that hop around the moment they're sent off… I'm the next on line…”

This killer? A prude? A VIRGIN? you think. Laughable. He was surely old enough to not speak like a shy sweetie?

“How will they know? Come here.” You shove his worried face into your crotch. “Lick and suck like a good slut.”

“Mmph—”

“This tongue is mine to use. You're just a tongue now, understand? Tonight, you're just a pussy wiper.”

The terrifying man has tears in his crystal clear eyes.

Why is he so complacent? you wonder.

He his tongue begins to search your tight pussy, lapping at his mess every few seconds. He brings both hands to your hips. He begins to run his chin, fucking his tongue into your eager cunt. You hold his head to steady yourself, stepping in his pathetic cock all the while.

“Nng… Slut… Slut!” you scream out, on the verge of crying. You bounce up and down, crushing his cock and violating his virgin mouth. He grips you tighter, tears now streaming down his murderously beautiful face. You want to hit him, but you settle for degrading him like the bitch he was. You call him a slut, whore, monster— You say that he's lower than dirt, lower than nothing.

You want to die on his lips so he could feel what you felt.

“Fuck… Fuck… Nng…!” You suffocate him with your lust, choking him with your hedonistic flood.

So rough! he thinks. This confuses him, since he lived for and with extreme roughness and callousness. How was this different? Was it because it was… sex? Tonight, it seemed, he found himself numb and dazing out.

“You like that, slut? You like that?” you pant, snatching his head away. He is silently weeping, puppy dog eyes both begging for more and begging for a break.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty…”

“For what?”

“A-About your family… I'm truly sorry…”

You fill with pure, unbridled rage. Why would apologize now, of all times?!

What a buzz killer.

“Get me a belt,” you say, stepping away, “one of yours.”