#this is like. embarrassing in a way but whatever i can do what i want

[ateezscupid]

─── FEB FILTH FEST: Birthday - BREEDING ♡

SUMMARY / Adorable newlyweds, and your husband seems stuck on wanting to have kids.

warnings ✩ SMUT, FLUFF, switch! wooyoung, dom!reader, fem!reader, established relationship, you two just got married, reader is insecure, unprotected sex, light body worship, praise, oral (m), mommy kink

word count ✩ 2,26k

tags ✩ @desirehorizon @tangerineastronaut @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan @bbdeongi @dawn-iscozy @xh01bri @mallielovssyou @clxssy1997 @soreberry @nopension@kitten4sannie@faeriehwas@lustfxq @ashistrashhhhhh

ATEEZ MASTERLIST / REQUEST / FEB FILTH FEST

"Wooyoung, look at this!" you stand from the couch holding your laptop, running over to his desk and sitting your computer next to his. "These curtains would like nice in our room, right? They're so cute!"

Wooyoung glances over at the screen, smiling slightly. "Sure, love, whatever you want. Just don't let your online shopping exceed the budget," he jokes, his eyes not leaving his spreadsheet.

You roll your eyes playfully. "As if you ever care about the budget," you tease, nudging his shoulder with yours. He chuckles and finally looks up, his eyes scanning the webpage briefly before nodding in agreement.

"What's that?" he referred to the recommended items under the one you were looking at.

"Oh. Curtains for baby rooms." Your voice trails off as you realize what you've clicked on. You furrow your eyebrows and stare at them for a while, causing Wooyoung to stare at you.

"You…okay? You're staring at the screen like you want to blow it up." Wooyoung's voice pierces through the silence, a hint of concern in his tone.

You laugh nervously, "Yeah, sorry, just lost in thought." You quickly switch tabs to hide the baby products, feeling your cheeks warm up. "It's nothing."

He smirked a little bit. "No, cmon! Tell me! Did you see something weird?" He leans over, trying to get a peek at the hidden tab.

You swat his hand away. "It's just… I've been thinking about our future a lot lately."

Wooyoung sits up straight in his chair, his smile widening. "And what does our future look like?

You bite your lip, trying to figure out the best way to bring up the topic that's been weighing on your mind. "Well, it's just… I know you've talked about starting a family soon."

"A lot. I've been talking about it a lot. I keep sending you cute baby videos and you act like you don't see them." he blinks at you with his innocent puppy eyes.

You can't help but laugh at his persistence. "I see them. I just don't always know what to say." You admit, your heart racing as you prepare to share your feelings. "But, it's not like I don't want kids I just…"

"You just…? What?" Wooyoung asks, his smile fading slightly as he senses your hesitance.

You take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. "I just--I see all those videos of moms who's body change so much when they're pregnant and some of their husbands leave them. It scares me." You finally spit out.

Wooyoung's smile fades completely as he looks at you seriously. "What? Who would do that?"

You shrug, feeling a bit embarrassed. "I don't know. I've heard of it happening. Plus, there's all the stress and responsibility that comes with having kids. I think I'm ready for all that! Just…not the physical part…"

"Well, I'd never leave you. And we can always support each other through the tough parts," Wooyoung says gently, placing his hand on your thigh. His thumb makes small circles, trying to soothe your nerves. "And however your body changes, I won't stop thinking you're hot."

You give him a weak smile, feeling a bit better. "Thanks, but it's not just that. It's everything. The diapers, the crying, the sleepless nights…"

"And I'll do it all if I have to." Wooyoung's voice is firm and reassuring. He stands up from his chair and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into him. "But we don't have to rush into anything. We can wait until you're ready. We're young, we have time."

"No, I -- I do want kids! I'm super sure of that! A-And I don't mind doing all the mom stuff! Just, y'know, what if I turn into some ugly goblin." You laugh nervously, trying to lighten the mood.

Wooyoung looks into your eyes, his gaze serious. "You'll never be a goblin to me. You'll be the most beautiful mom, because you're beautiful inside and out." His words hit you like a warm embrace, wrapping around your insecurities and giving you a comforting squeeze.

"You'll be gorgeous carrying my baby," he kissed your cheek. "Walkin' around all pregnant and happy, I'd love that."

"Ewww, it sounds like you have a breeding kink." you tease him, trying to lighten the mood with a playful giggle.

Wooyoung just stared at you and didn't answer. You stare back and gasp lightly, "You do, don't you?"

He instantly got red. "N-No! I don't I just-"

"It's fine if you do! You wanna get me pregnant that bad-?!" You laugh, poking him in the stomach. His cheeks turn a deep shade of red, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he tightens his embrace, his arms secure around you.

"…Oh my god, Wooyoung-" you pause. "Are you hard-?!"

Wooyoung's eyes widen and he clears his throat, trying to maintain eye contact. "….Maybe."

You burst into laughter, poking him again. "Oh my god, you do! You're so adorable!" You lean into his embrace, feeling his heartbeat against your chest. It's comforting, a steady rhythm that calms your racing thoughts.

"Can we go deal with…this though?!" he gulped gesturing toward his bulge. You couldn't help but laugh at his sudden shyness, a stark contrast to his usual playful demeanor.

"Aw, yes baby." You say, a playful smirk forming on your lips as you slide your hand down to grip his hardening erection through his pants. "Let's go to the bedroom, shall we?"

He nods and you pull him along, his hand in yours as you lead him to the bedroom. The tension in the air shifts from the previous conversation, now charged with a different kind of excitement. As you enter the room, Wooyoung locks the door behind you, his eyes never leaving yours. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, his desire for you as palpable as the air around you.

"You want me to touch you?" you ask coyly, your voice low and sultry as you trace a line from his neck to his collarbone with your finger. Wooyoung nods eagerly, his eyes darkening with lust as he watches your every move. You lean in closer, your breath tickling his ear as you whisper, "Where do you want me to touch you?"

"Baby, please." Wooyoung's voice is low, a pleading whisper that sends shivers down your spine. You feel empowered, knowing you have this effect on him. You bite your lower lip, your eyes scanning his body hungrily as you decide where to begin. You decide to tease him a bit more, tracing the outline of his erection through his pants, feeling it throb under your touch.

"No, let's use a different name…" you go silent for a minute. "Mommy, maybe? You like that?" You say with a mischievous grin.

Wooyoung's eyes widen and he swallows hard. "Yeah, I like that," he breathes, his voice thick with desire. You both laugh, the tension dissipating as you both embrace the playfulness of the moment.

"Yeah?" you tug at his sweatpants. "You want mommy to make you feel good?"

Wooyoung's eyes are glued to yours, his breathing hitched. "Yeah," he manages to get out. You smirk, feeling a thrill at the power play. You push him back gently onto the bed, straddling him. He watches as you pull his pants down, revealing his thick cock. You lean down, your eyes never leaving his, and wrap your lips around the tip. He groans, his hands coming up to tangle in your hair.

"F-Fuck," Wooyoung gasps as you start to bob your head, taking him deeper into your mouth. His hands tighten their grip on your hair, guiding you as you find a rhythm that makes him squirm beneath you. You can feel his cock pulse with every stroke, and you know you're driving him wild.

"M-Mommy-" Wooyoung's voice is a needy whine that sends a thrill down your spine. You suck harder, feeling his cock swell in your mouth. Every other time you sucked him off, it felt different. But now, with the new dynamic, it's like you're discovering each other all over again. You let one hand stroke him while the other moved down your body, pushing under your pants.

Your own arousal is evident as you feel how wet you've become. You pushed him down your throat, feeling his cock hit the back of it and gag, only to pull back and do it again. Wooyoung's hips start to thrust upward slightly, his control slipping as he gets lost in the pleasure. You can feel his heart racing under your palm where it's resting on his chest, his breaths coming in short, sharp bursts.

"I-I'm gonna come-" Wooyoung warns, his voice strained with pleasure. You moan around his cock, the vibration sending him over the edge. He comes in your mouth and you swallow, feeling a sense of satisfaction wash over you. You sit back, licking your lips as you watch him catch his breath.

"Lay back," you stand, pushing your pants and underwear down, revealing your wet pussy. "Let mommy take care of herself now." You climb onto the bed, your heart racing with excitement as you straddle his hips.

"You're so pretty," he says, his voice still shaky from his orgasm. He watches as you hover above him, his eyes fixated on your glistening core.

"Am I?" you giggle, rubbing yourself back and forth on his cock, which is already starting to harden again. "You like watching?"

"Mhm," he nods, his eyes not leaving the sight of your pussy gently brushing against his cock. You lean back, supporting yourself on your hands, and lower yourself down onto him. He gasps as you take him in, inch by inch, his length stretching you open. You've done this countless times before, but the new name play has added an extra layer of excitement to the act.

"Fuck-" he inhales sharply. "M-Mommy, you're so tight," he groans, his eyes rolling back as you start to move. You bounce up and down on him, your walls clenching around his cock as you ride him. The sensation of being filled up by him while calling him 'baby' is new and exhilarating.

"I-I love you, your body, everything…" he stammers, his voice thick with pleasure as you rock against him. You lean forward, pressing your breasts against his chest as you start to pick up the pace, your movements growing more urgent. The room is filled with the sound of skin slapping together and your moans of pleasure.

He wraps his fingers in your hair, his other hand on your back. "Don't stop-" he begs, his eyes closed as he feels you ride him with an intensity that borders on desperation. You lean down and kiss him, your tongues dancing as you move together. His taste is still on your lips, a mix of salt and sweetness that drives you wild.

"God, I want your cum so bad," you chuckle, your voice breathless as you ride him, the feeling of his cock moving inside you making your walls quiver. "I bet you wanna fill me up so bad."

Wooyoung's eyes snap open, his gaze fiery as he looks up at you. "Mommy," he says, the word slipping out almost involuntarily. "I'm going to come."

"Yes, baby, come for mommy," you whisper, your voice a siren's call as you continue to bounce on his cock. The idea of him filling you up, breeding you, sends a thrill through your body that only intensifies your desire. You feel your own orgasm approaching as you lean into the role, your hips moving faster and more erratically.

"Fill me up," you purr, playing into his newfound kink. You can feel his cock twitch inside you, his body taut with anticipation. You lean back, arching your spine as you increase your rhythm, watching his expression contort with pleasure. The power of bringing him to the edge like this, calling him 'baby' in such a way, is intoxicating.

Wooyoung shut his eyes tightly and gripped your hips, his body trembling as you whispered those words into his ear. The thought of you actually being full of his cum once he filled you up was too much for him to handle. He felt his orgasm building as your pussy clenched around his cock.

"Cmon, give it to me. Get me pregnant," you say in a playful but urgent tone. "I wanna have your kids."

"Mommy-" he gasped, his hips jerking upwards as he felt his orgasm approaching. "I-I'm gonna f-fill you up," he groaned, his voice thick with lust. He moaned as his load emptied into you, the sensation of his hot seed filling you making him shiver with pleasure.

But you didn't stop. You kept going, bouncing up and down on his cock as he spurted his cum deep inside you. "Mm, yeah, baby," you murmur, feeling his warmth fill you up. "Give me all of it." Wooyoung's eyes fly open in surprise, his orgasm hitting harder than he expected as he watches you take his cum hungrily. His hips thrust upward, pushing himself deeper into you, his hands digging into your hips as he releases his seed.

"O-Oh my god-!" he gasps, his eyes rolling back in pleasure as he feels you milking his cock for every last drop. "Y-You're so fucking good at this," he stammers, his voice laced with awe. The taboo nature of the role play has unlocked a primal need in him, and you can see it in the way he looks at you - with a mix of love and raw desire.

[theyluvpeach]

too high to care.

you and chris smoke together, stuff ensues. client!chris x dealer!reader blurb!!

warnings.ᐟ.ᐟ: not connected to your vibes are off. sub!chris... you saw this coming. softdom! reader. bj. praise. use of ma. thas it :)

He's so screwed. The only reason he's in your apartment is because Matt said he was busy, so you extended his invitation onto him. He just wanted to relax a little bit is all, but as he stepped foot into your apartment, he remembered even though that you annoy him you're hot as hell.

How is he supposed to focus on you telling him what you're putting in the joint if your panties are peeking out from your shorts? They're pink with lace that he'd love to run his finger along—

"Chris!"

"Huh?"

"You're not even listening to me! I could be putting whatever in this."

"Nah. You're not evil enough for that." You roll your eyes. His heart feels like it's going to jump out of his chest. He's so glad you didn't catch him staring.

Everything was going well. You guys passed the joint back and forth a few times, and surprisingly, you aren't someone who's super talkative when they're high. The most you did was stare at him from your side of the couch and giggle whenever he asked why you were staring.

"Chris?"

He looks to you. "You're pretty." You mumble. "You're high as fuck."

"I have a high tolerance." You say, slowly crawling towards him. It makes him gulp.

Your shift lifts off your chest, giving him the perfect view of your lacy pink bra— A matching set? Are you trying to kill him?

"Like... really pretty." You say, pausing your movements and stopping in front of him, just for a moment to stare at him, before you're settling in his lap.

His hands find themselves on your hips.

"Kid." Comes out weak and breathless. "Has someone ever called you pretty before?"

"...no." it'd be a whisper if you guys weren't so close. "I'll do it more often then." You say, moving to take off his hood, he stops you. "What are you doing?" He searches your eyes, trying to find an answer for all your actions.

"I wanna see something."

This time, he lets you take off his hood. You give him a smirk before you start running your hands through your hair. "What are you—"

"S all tangled....just let me." He shuts up quickly, flushing as you comb your hair hands through his hair. He flushes.

"Are you blushing?"

"Shut... shut up." It makes you giggle, making him even more embarrassed. He's not used to this, gentle treatment. It's different....a good different.

"Chris." You say, tilting his head to meet your gaze. "Wha-" is all Chris gets out before you're kissing him. Before your hands are slipping under his hoodie and touching his chest, he lets out a soft moan. He feels you smile against his lips.

You're both high, and even though you say you have a high tolerance, he doesn't know how much he believes you because of how red your eyes are. You guys shouldn't be doing this.

But, even then, he still lets you pull his hoodie over his head as he lets out soft pants. "So pretty, Chris." You mumble, shifting your position so you can kiss down his stomach.

His cock twitches in sweatpants. The praise, the kisses. Its too much for his brain to handle. "Mhn- wait— Kid—" He stutters out, grabbing your hair to make you look at him.

"Hey—" How is he supposed to resist you when your lips are jutted out, so dangerously close to the bludge in his sweatpants? "......you really want this, huh?"

"Wanna make you feel good." He bites his lip. He's imagined those words leaving your mouth so many times it's humiliating, "Do you want....?" You ask, tilting your head at him.

Of course he does. He nods. "Cmon. Use your big boy words."

".....want you to make me feel good." The way you smile at him makes him wanna cum right then and there. "Good boy." Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

An embarrassing, needy whine escapes from his lips. He's turning to putty in your hands. You press a soft kiss to his bulge before slipping off the couch onto your knees, making him throw his head back.

"You're so pretty," He can't take the way you're cooing at him, the way you're looking at him with red, lust filled eyes. "So, so, pretty for me, baby." He hisses as his cock slaps against his stomach, finally being freed from his precum stained boxers.

This is all so new. He's never not been the one in control in the bedroom, but here he is. Letting out whimpers because you're calling him pretty.

His hand finds its way back into your hair as you press sloppily kisses up his length. "Y-you're killin' me here, kid—" When you finally make it to his tip, his hips buck against your mouth. He can't take this anymore. He's so hard it hurts.

"Please." He says, low and whiney. "Please?" You tease him. "Do anything, please, please."

You continue your taunting kisses, "I am." He squirms under your touch. "N-no— you're teasing me."

"I'm not," You say, completely letting go of his weeping cock. "You want me to get you off? Use your words." Chris looks at you with teary eyes.

"Suck me off, use your hands—God, do anything just make me cum, please? Please?" The smirk he receives is devilish. "That wasn't so hard was it?"

Chris whines. "Ma, please." You decide to take pity on him, stroking him. "Ah....go...d..." His eyes roll into the back of his head. "Feel good?" He moans loudly. "Y...yeah—"

When you take him into your mouth, he almost screams. "H-holy shit— Wai— wait—" He moans, grabbing at the couch cushions. You eye him, watching the way his face contorts in pleasure.

"If you keep— doing—t-that! M- m gonna cum—!" You hum around his cock, taking him deeper in your mouth. Before you pull off, watching his spit-slicked cock leak pre-cum. "Already?" You say, going back to stroking him.

The tears that pooled in his eyes, escape. You tilt your eyes at him. "You've never been treated like this...have you, Chris?"

"N....no." He chokes out, being interrupted by a loud moan. The way your eyes twinkle at his words makes him bite his cheek. "M gonna make you cum," He watches you press a kiss to his tip, again, as you stroke him. His hips buck against your lips. "But you gotta beg first."

Beg....? Beg? You want him to beg? Chris has never begged in his life. Saying please is one thing, begging on the other hand—

"No!" You stop stroking him. He whines at the loss. "C'mon, Pretty Boy. If you don't beg you're not gonna cum."

He hates you. He hates you so much. "I...please? Needa cum.... Been...been a good boy, haven't I?" He mumbles, his cheeks turning as red as cherry tomatos. He almost screams when you start stroking him again, "There ya go, Pretty."

"Cum— cum— I-I—" His eyes roll back into his head once more, "Gonna!"

You take him into your mouth again, and that's his last straw. "C-cumming!" You keep your lips wrapped around his cock until you're sure he's done cumming, it's a rough swallow.

You're sure if he came anymore, you would've started choking. You press a soft kiss to his inner thigh, and he pants looking at you with hazy eyes.

"You alright, Pretty?"

"I....shut.....mokay." He mutters. You stand up, "Gonna get you a towel n clean you up." He nods slowly before his eyes flutter shut.

He's asleep when you come back.

tags 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚: @inspiredangel @whore4mattsturniolo @dominiqueansel-blog @sosasturns

[jd-loves-fiction]

Sorry, two requests in one go but I NEED TO GET THIS OFF MY SYSTEM OR I FORGET

Same platonic dynamic with Boothill, Welt, Jing Yuan and Blade with reader who turned into a small child all of a sudden (around 2-3 years old, so toddler)

🌑 RAAHHH FEED ME (I couldnt resist the angst sowy :)) Also am I crazy or do they all give girl dad... they all feel like girl dad's to me, expect maybe Jing Yuan 😅

✦ 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥 ✦

Possibly the most experienced in this field actually???

Not to remind y'all of the absolute angst of his backstory, but he adopted a little kid in the past so... he's actually pretty knowledgeable when it comes to kids

Doesnt make this smooth sailing tho

Firstly, he's super confused on how this happened and how to undo it - spends so much time stressing about it that he almost forgets he has to take care of you now until you start screaming

Now that he's looking at you, oh you're so cute it should be illegal

Cuteness aggression to the max with the most self-restraint a man could possibly have (knowing he could easily seriously hurt you)

Once he accepts that his only option is waiting it out, he's focusing on making sure you're comfy

Surprisingly very in tune with your wants and needs

Overall, you'll be well taken care of with him, though the moment you're soundly asleep, memories of the past come back to haunt him, reminding him of all he lost

Though he reasons with himself that the past has passed and all he can do is keep going without letting it drag him down

And you're helping him do just that ❤️

✦ 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐭 ✦

Utterly confounded

Mostly just curious

How did this happen? Do you still have your memories? Did your brain also revert back?

But he also cant deny how freaking cute you are🥺

Very gentle, holding you close, whispering softly even if you're screaming - makes you sleepy immediately

If you start screaming incoherently he's gonna have a hard time figuring out what you need but will try his best and remain calm the whole time

Does anything you want him to, literally

Want to play dolls? He's making a cute voice and everything. Want him to read to you? Putting on the softest tone known to man and putting you to sleep before you're through the first page

This also applies to food - whatever you want to eat, he's letting you, since he knows this situation must be pretty stressful and he doesnt want you start screaming at him :(

Once it's over he probably wont mention it again to you in case you think it's embarrassing, but will keep the sweet memory close to his heart - it makes him feel fuzzy to think he could take care of you when you're so vulnerable

Also you're just so damn cute, he cant get over it 😭

✦ 𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐚𝐧 ✦

Give him a second he's gonna have to laugh about this for a while

Decent experience with teens and older children because of Yanqing and other students he's trained, but toddlers?

No clue, he's so lost

Genuinely tries to apply lion cub logic

It's the closest experience he's had to raising a kid ok?! He's trying 🥺

Probably ends up getting yelled at by Yanqing because no, human children do not work in any way similarly to lion cubs >:(

After that he's trying a little harder

He's surrounded by people who know more than him on this so he's putting you on his hip and carrying you around while he asks them what to do

Comes back to his office after and puts you down, not realizing that you're crawling over to Mimi

Nearly has a heart attack once he does realize but it's all good, Mimi's a good boy and just naps while you play with his mane

He was honestly ready to use you as an excuse to not do this work and seeing you napping with Mimi just solidifies it for him

The next time Yanqing comes by to make sure you're ok, he finds you all cuddled up on Mimi, so he leaves with a fond sigh

Jing yuan was totally awake btw

✦ 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞 ✦

Oh sweet god he is not equipped for this AT ALL

Immediatly running to Kafka or Firefly for help (Silver Wolf is suddenly not so mysteriously absent) and they are somehow even less helpful than he is

Grumbling the whole time but does try his best to care for you

Does NOT know why you're screaming pls stop 😭

Has a surprising among of patience - he knows what children are like, so he's not blaming you for anything you do or losing it on you

He's good at keeping himself calm when the situation doesnt require him to lose his shit

Excels at... napping :)

Honest to god cant think of much else to do with you besides putting a sword in your hand, which both Kafka and Firefly scold for even thinking about

Cant really blame him, that's what his parents did and he turned out just fine :) (Note the sarcasm)

Something in his cold (literally) dead heart warms at the sight of you fumbling about and smiling sweetly at him

He never thought himself particularly inviting but he sure doesnt mind that you think so

The whole situation has him pondering his past but most of all, his humanity - what he lost of it and what he still has

[merakiui]

jade is absolutely getting off to the thought of drugging you up with mushrooms and then using them to fuck you

Oh, most definitely. 😌

“You’re an ash-hole,” is the first thing to tumble out of your mouth. The insult isn’t nearly as biting as you’d hoped it would be, for the slurred way in which you pronounce the expletive dulls its sharpness tenfold. It does earn you a quirk of the mouth from Jade. The exact opposite of what you wanted.

You’re sweating out of your skin, body temperature rocket-high. It almost rivals the stifling humidity of the off-campus woods, which you think might be your resting place if whatever shit Jade spiked your salad with stops your heart. Pre-hike salad, your foot!

He’s found a comfortable clearing, the lush grass more inviting than the cool breeze tickling your cheek. It feels like the wind has a dozen tiny tongues and they’re all lapping at your face. With a shiver, you smack Jade’s arm away when he offers to ease you down. The world is breathing beneath you. The tree trunk you prop yourself against has a heartbeat, and you watch the lines in the bark undulate like saltwater waves.

“As a member of the Mountain Lovers’ Club,” Jade says, lowering to his knees in front of you, his backpack now shrugged off. When you blink, he’s right in front of you next, checking to make sure you’re still lucid. Mostly. “You must be able to discern dangerous flora from the safe ones. The mushrooms mixed in with your salad have hallucinogenic properties. In small amounts, they’re fine. Quite the exciting trip, one might say. But there are some species that have hazardous effects…”

You squeeze your eyes shut again and inhale a shuddering breath. There are spiders beneath your eyelids and in your skin. It prickles. You move to slap nothing off your arm and find that, in the seconds or maybe minutes your world has been turned over, your shorts have been shucked down to your ankles. Jade’s spidery digits creep in close, parting your legs, sliding along your hole through the fabric. You’d kick him if your body wasn’t so keen on melting like candle wax. All you can do is wilt and take in big gulps of air as he presses in, fingers curling beneath your underwear, prodding inside such a private, sensitive place. You’re not sure how much time passes. You swim in and out of consciousness, occasionally snapping back to yourself like a boomerang.

When you come to, it’s with a keening cry and he hums, sounding quite pleased. You’re not sure how or when it happened, but you came around his fingers. The embarrassment doesn’t settle for long, not when your skeleton is jittering in its fleshy confines. You think you might be sick. Something is crawling up your throat. Hands? Vomit? It feels weird. Just what was in that salad? What terrible mushroom did he experiment with this time?

And that’s just it. Everything he does is experimental. Never on himself. You’d quite like that—to give him a literal taste of his own medicine and watch him crumple. What a glorious day that would be.

Like a surgeon, Jade slips a pair of latex gloves on. For a horrified moment, you wonder if he really is going to bury you out here. But instead he procures a particularly sizable mushroom from a plastic bag. It looks familiar, but right now there are a dozen names rushing through your mind and none of them can be correct. You watch with even more horror as he tears a little square package open and slides the condom over the mushroom’s stipe, all business. Perfectly clinical.

“Today, we’re going to learn to identify mushrooms and their uses.” He beams. “Starting with this one.”

“I…” Your tongue feels all wrong. Numb. Too long. And then too short. You try to pronounce your next words, but they come out in a messy splutter.

“I’ll give you a hint. It’s edible.” Jade smiles angelically.

Gee, thanks for the help. That narrows it down by a lot, you think, sarcastic.

“Maybe this will jog your memory,” he adds, and when you blink the stipe is pushing against your puckered hole. His fingers are wrapped gently around the cap of the mushroom, holding it steady.

“Wha…” You attempt to crawl back from him, but the tree holds you firm. “Jade—”

“It’s a very popular ingredient in soups and risotto,” he continues, undeterred in his approach.

You dig your fingers into the ground and rip up clumps of grass. It feels wrong. Intrusive. This strange, foreign thing. You squirm weakly, but it doesn’t shake him off.

Dunno, you think, your mouth moving mutely.

“It’s part of the genus Boletus.”

Oh, you hate him something fierce. This smart-ass eel. As if you’d know the scientific name or the genus and whatever-heenus-gleenus. You’ll kill him.

Not really. Because who could kill Jade Leech? Not you.

But the feeling comes something close to death as you imagine yourself weaponizing the blazing sun in your scowl and burning a hole through him like he’s an ant under a magnifying glass. Instead, your expression falls and you give a short, sweet whine. The mushroom presses in shallowly. Jade watches with a delight that can only be described as exhilaration. His smile is preternatural.

It turns out it’s a penny bun. Boletus edulis. He tells you that halfway into working the thick mushroom in and out of you.

“I’m sure you’ll have better luck with the next one,” he assures, and then you see it. The many mushrooms packed neatly away in his backpack, each one packaged in that chilling, serial-killer-like precision only Jade Leech could have.

[lov3darlings]

saw that you wanted requests…. wb a little more fluffy take on figure skater reader x lando? maybe reader teaches him how to skate 😼 idk if this completely fits w the dynamic that you write them w tho, so if you don’t like this idea, feel free to ignore !

hav a great day :)

darlings thoughts

cw: fluff, fluff and lil sexual tension ig. obvi that 6 year age gap. also dw it does fit with the dynamic. they're the type of couple that ppl look and say 'omg he's really spoiled her.'

"i won't laugh," you promised kissing his cheek. you were trying to convince lando to go skating with you and somehow you ended up on his lap trying to bribe him with kisses.

while lando loved all of you, specially the figure skater you and your endless competitive drive. he was worried that he'd embarrass himself infront of you.

but he cannot possibly say no to you, even if he tried. besides, he's shown you all parts of him, even the parts of him that came with racing. it was only fair that he went skating with you.

"fine," he gives in. his face breaking into a smile when he sees your face light up. "but you can't laugh," he warns threading his fingers through your hairs. "i won't."

and that's how he ended up at think you train at an ungodly hour.

your laugh boomed through the empty rink, drowning out the symphony of your master and magarita program. "you said you wouldn't laugh," lando says. you skate effortlessly towards him.

"my bad," she extends out her palms for him to hold. "don't worry i got thi—" he almost slipped making you laugh harder. "come on," you grab his hands.

"you're so tensed, loosen up love," you say. "yeah, but what if i fall?" he glares at the frozen body of water beneath his skates. "you won't. i got you," you try to reassure him. "yeah like how you said you won't laugh," he scoffs at you. "well, not like that."

lando finally loosens up, standing more straight and holding onto you firmer. "see it's so much easier," you say as you skate backwards. but the older man is too busy admiring you.

he looks at you with awe as you crane your neck backwards to make sure you both won't run into the boards. the way the untucked hairs fall over your face. he moves his hand to tuck it behind your ears.

"wow," he mumbles under his breathe. "huh?" you look him. his loving gaze making you flustered. "focus on skating lando," you say. "how can i when i have this absolutely stunning angel teaching me," he cups your face.

everything blurs around you two. the symphony already died down for him even though the notes of the piano became intense. for him, it was just you and him. even forgetting he was on ice with sharp skates stapped to his feet.

"i love you," he leans down to kiss your forehead. "i love you too," you whisper adding a subtle dramatic flare to it that he missed. taking his hands in yours but slowly, retrieving your hands as you skate away.

lando stands in the middle of the rink, alone with no aid. he watched you skate away cheekily as the realization dawned upon him. he stood there with no aid. "sweetheart," he whined. "yeah?" you teased.

lando pouted, but his instincts was to follow you. taking wobbly strides to chase after you. you giggled at him but those giggles were cut short when you saw him fall.

"oh my god are you okay?" you kneel next to him. lando wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you onto him. "haha gotcha," he chuckled. "fuck off that's not fair," you rolled your eyes at him, laying down next to him on the ice.

"it's called throwing a dummy to overtake," he smirks. "but don't you think my acting was emmy worth? you were totally scared," he added. "i wasn’t," you argue.

"sure darling, whatever helps you sleep at night," he brings you closer to him. "now come on teach me how do i do that signature spin of your," he says. "yeah no, you'll risk an injury. you're not flexible enough. plus jon is gonna eat my head off if you get injured."

"makes sesne. but you, my love are very very flexible," his hands play with the hem of your sports bra. his attention finally lands on the master and magarita loop that was playing.

"you know i really love this program and the dress. we should get you more replicas of it. it's so pretty to tear it off of you," he whispers. "shut up," you hit his chest, blushing.

[thus-wrote-mrs-zeppeli]

“Something cute” won the poll for what I should do for my 100 followers special, so I tried to come up with something pretty dang cute~

Various jjba characters x reader in: Artsy Date

Drawing each other sounded like a great date idea at the time.

Content: nothing really beyond a bit suggestive

Characters: Joseph Joestar (Part 2), Caesar Anthonio Zeppeli, DIO, Rohan Kishibe, Jotaro Kujo (part 4), Yoshikage Kira, Guido Mista, Bruno Bucciarati, Leone Abbacchio, Diavolo, Jolyne Cujoh, Johnny Joestar, Gyro Zeppeli, Diego Brando

Joseph Joestar: Oh he was QUITE confident in his ability to capture your essence on paper. And no matter how you insisted this was only for fun, not a competition, he was determined to be better at this than you. And he even tries to sabotage you, just a bit, by doing a hard pose to draw when it’s your turn to sketch him.

He IS fun to model for though, flirting with you while he directed you on how to pose for him. For a moment you almost feel like an actual professional model with the way he plays it up. He even makes a camera click noise with his mouth when he’s finally happy with your pose.

He works pretty quickly, talking out loud to himself as he goes, occasionally holding up his handiwork so he can compare it to you.

“Tell me how much you love it.”

He says it SO confidently given how…unimpressive his art skills are…

I mean…you can definitely tell it’s you. Because the character he drew has your outfit. But it’s a bit exaggerated proportion wise and he REALLY cannot draw faces to save his life wow-

“Is that my��nose?”

He’s a bit offended. “NO, that’s your mouth. This is your nose.”

You squint when he points to a spot on the drawing but you don’t really know what he’s pointing to.

But you’ll treasure it forever, you had so much fun being his model and doodling each other. And he quite enjoyed modeling for you, too, very happy to have a sketch of himself drawn by you. You drew him winking with a smug smirk on his face while in that stupidly complicated pose he decided to do despite your protests.

It’s unmistakably Joseph Joestar.

Caesar Anthonio Zeppeli: He loves this idea, but takes it SUPER seriously. He has you very carefully posed, and really takes his time illustrating you to the best of his ability. He even uses watercolors to add to your “inherent elegance” as he calls it.

When you finally get to see it…

It’s a bit amateurish, but still quite impressive, though he totally exaggerated your grace and poise. Your clothes flow in the wind as you pose delicately by a fountain…he definitely took some artistic liberties because there wasn’t any wind when you posed for him, and your outfit wasn’t THAT pristine, but it’s a lovely portrait, and you can’t help but smile learning Caesar really sees you as such a graceful and lovely person.

You feel yours isn’t nearly as grand in comparison, as you drew him much more casually, resting with his chin on his hand, looking quiet and contemplative. He adores every gift you give him, but something this personal is especially wonderful to him.

But you’re a bit embarrassed to see he went through the trouble of framing your drawing of him…sheesh Caesar…he’s so extra sometimes…

DIO: He could maybe make some free time for you in his evenings to indulge in the fine arts. You’re not sure if you’re surprised or unsurprised he actually takes a bit of interest in such things. You want to draw him? He’s happy to indulge you.

You’re off to a strong start because you have to hastily tell him he doesn’t have to take off all his clothes, you’re not making THAT kind of drawing-this was supposed to be cute!! Just pose nicely!

He can’t help himself and goes with something pretty provocative, but whatever. At least your drawing is gonna reflect his personality well.

He’s not opposed to drawing you in turn but he’s bossy just for the sake of it. He wants you to pose a certain way and if you move at all he swore he was going to stop immediately. And he was a man of empty promises, but not empty threats, so you held as still as you could manage, a bit embarrassed at the pose he demanded of you. He chides you a bit for acting surprised that his sketch of you actually looks really good.

You, posed with your arm on your own shoulder, and your head tilted so your neck is very exposed and you are surrounded by darkness. It’s a beautiful sketch, done quickly, and he has signed his name in big letters right on the drawing of you. Such a Dio thing to do. You understand even clearer how he feels about you.

He thinks you should consider it a generous gift that he deigned to waste his time illustrating you, so you’d better treasure that half-hearted sketch he’s made for you.

He has no interest in taking great care of your sketch of him though. It will be tucked away in a book somewhere and promptly forgotten about, but if you were to suggest another drawing session while he was in a pleasant mood he might not refuse.

Rohan Kishibe: Only AFTER suggesting it did you realize perhaps it was not such a good idea.

Rohan was a Very Fast artist. As soon as you suggested it he had an amazing illustration of you done in five seconds flat. You tried to explain it completely defeated the point to go so fast, and that you were supposed to pose for him at least while he drew you!

Well…he doesn’t really see the point in that. But it’s not like he’s swamped with work so…he will try to indulge you if it would make you happy.

You ask him what pose you should do and he says you can do whatever you want because he could replicate it accurately.

Once again defeating the point but whatever.

You try to do a cute pose in the hopes you can convey your romantic intent with this activity. All he does is quirk an eyebrow at you and mutter that your pose looks a bit uncomfortable to hold, but that he’ll be quick so it’ll be fine.

You sigh. He was so unromantic. You were posing SO cutely and he STILL wasn’t getting it.

His illustration of you is professional, even inked and colored with markers, and it only took him a few seconds. You’re posed draped across the couch, with your arms spread and your legs bent to give the appearance of stretching charmingly.

He narrows his eyes in confusion when you proclaim it is his turn now. Apparently he wasn’t listening very closely to how this was supposed to work.

He doesn’t want to pose so you can draw him! That’s boring. He could be doing something else. This really isn’t supposed to be an argument, so you suggest he reads a book or something so he’s not entirely “wasting his time” while you draw him.

He’s grumpy about it, but relents. As long as you promise to be quick.

He just quietly reads in his chair while you doodle him. It’s awkward and not nearly as romantic as you were hoping for, but you’re pretty happy with how your sketch of him turned out.

He doesn’t have much to say on your drawing, quick to excuse himself so he can finally go back to doing whatever he was doing before you interrupted him with this date idea of yours.

But he loves it very much, and keeps it safe in his studio, but he’ll be a bit of a brat about it if you ask because he’s embarrassed to admit it makes him feel good.

Jotaro Kujo: He’s decent at drawing, but only animals, not so much people. But if you’re both not busy one evening then fine, might as well.

He tells you to keep your expectations low, but you’re just glad to finally be spending some quality time with him. He’s not the easiest man to schedule time with, always busy with something.

His drawing of you is simplistic but recognizable, since he knew he’d struggle with detail and it’d just end up bad if he tried.

You love it! It’s rare for him to do anything like this for you, so the drawing is very dear for you, regardless of how he insists it’s not anything to be so excited about. He doesn’t really say anything, but he’s glad it makes you happy, even though he doesn’t feel like he did much.

You accidentally draw his hat too big when it’s your turn to draw him, but otherwise you think it looks pretty cool. You tried to capture the coolness of his white jacket blowing in the wind. You can’t really tell if he likes it, but he ends up folding your sketch nicely and keeping it safe somewhere, so you like to think he enjoyed this little bonding activity.

Yoshikage Kira: UGH, you’re not sure what you were expecting. The drawing he makes of you is…interesting. You’re recognizable, slightly above stick figure status…but he put a Very noticeable emphasis on your hands, putting much more effort into them than anything else in the drawing. The more you look at it the more you realize it’s just a really low-quality imitation of the Mona Lisa. Now you understand the purpose of the pose he suggested. But he seemed to moderately enjoy himself, so…Success, you suppose.

He’ll cooperate and pose for you as long as it doesn’t take too long.

You go for something casual, his pointer finger against his cheek, his other fingers against his chin. Relaxed, but stylish.

He thanks you for the drawing and tucks it away somewhere. It’s safe, but out of mind.

He doesn’t really care if you keep ahold of his drawing of you though. You’re free to do whatever you want with it, he’s not an artist so he understands if you don’t want to keep it, it didn’t take that much effort to draw anyways.

You keep it for a bit but eventually lose track of it. It’s pretty funny when you accidentally stumble across it after it disappeared for a long time. Oh yeah. That weird drawing Yoshikage did of you where he only tried when he was sketching your hands. You had forgotten about that. For good reason.

Guido Mista: He’s definitely not an artist but if you don’t care about how it turns out and just wanna spend time with him through this activity then he’s totally down.

The bullets end up wanting to draw you too so…you end up with a lot of poorly drawn portraits of yourself. Honestly you couldn’t pick out Mista’s drawing from the bullets’. How do they all draw the same way…

All the drawings of you are pretty much just stick figures with very large heads. He said he wanted to capture your facial features accurately so he had to make your head bigger. More room for the eyes. Yeah he’s definitely not taking this too seriously but you expected as much from him. So to counter him, you draw him poorly as well, and then all of the bullets large and in as much detail as you can manage.

He pretends to be offended by it. “Why’d you draw my eyes so big?!” he asks. Because beyond his sense of fashion his deep dark eyes are his most notable feature! Duh.

He ends up losing the drawing on accident within a week but! The important part was how fun it was! The finished products weren’t that important-

Please don’t be mad at him-

Bruno Bucciarati: He thinks it’s a lovely way to spend some time together, so he does what he can to clear his afternoon so he can spend it with you. He starts by saying he’s not an artist so don’t expect too much from him, but his brow furrows in concentration once you’ve assumed a pose you thought he’d like. You go for something cute but

stylish, sitting with one leg up and your other outstretched along the couch elegantly.

His drawing of you is cute. Soft lines and very simple, mostly just capturing your pose than any other details, with dots for eyes because he claims he cannot draw eyes for the life of him. It’s sweet, surprisingly adorable for the serious capo. He tells you not to show his gang though, or he’ll never hear the end of it.

You embarrass yourself a bit when it’s your turn, because you spent a very long time concentrated on his chest trying to get his tattoo accurate. And he’s not helping with his flirty little remark where he suggests you could probably see a little better if you sat closer to him. And then pat his own lap.

It totally breaks your concentration, so you decide your drawing of him is now finished, handing it over to him before he can fluster you any further.

He thinks it’s lovely, and he promises to take care of it, and make even more of an effort to carve out some free time to spend with you, even if it’s just half an hour or so.

He’s already planning a date he can surprise you with next time.

Leone Abbacchio: He’s not one for sweet romantic gestures, so he pushes back a bit, but if you nag him he’ll give in pretty quickly. It’s not like you’re asking him to do something he really hates doing, and he has a particular weakness for you…so fine. But just this once.

He’ll hold still so you can sketch him, but only for ten minutes, and he gets to choose the pose.

At least the pose he chooses looks nice. Despite his jaded personality, he’s a pretty and elegant looking man. You draw a side profile of him, his expression that usual impassive frown, but his features have a sort of rugged grace.

When you slide your masterpiece over to him, he exhales through his nose so he can maintain that grouchy persona, but he’s gentle when he actually takes the drawing from you.

When it’s his turn to draw you, he works quickly and silently, not even looking at you, which leads you to think he’s still unhappy about being asked to do this.

He won’t admit it but he didn’t look at you because he didn’t have to. He’s replayed memories of you through Moody Blues enough times to have your face memorized.

You weren’t expecting much when he casually slid the piece of paper over to you.

But when you look, you can’t help the way your jaw drops. A side profile of you that mirrors the one you drew of him. Drawn amazingly well. It’s accurate, elegant, surprisingly soft…he’s even sketched a few flowers alongside you to make the piece more aesthetically pleasing.

The way you stare makes him embarrassed, and he ends up biting out that if you didn’t like it you should just throw it away.

You respond by clutching it protectively against your chest. It just makes him more embarrassed to know you’re going to be clinging to that thing for a while. There’s really no winning with him-

WHATEVER.

You can do whatever you want with it, but do NOT show that off to Mista, Narancia and ESPECIALLY NOT Giorno (not that Giorno would tease him, but the mortifying idea of that blond knowing ANYTHING about him makes Leone feel ill).

Once enough time has passed, you can start convincing him to make a few quick sketches for you, since they make you happy for whatever reason, and unfortunately for him he loves making you happy even if that means dropping the apathetic gangster disposition for a moment.

Ghiaccio: You thought that you had finally found something that was relaxing for both of you and wouldn’t completely frustrate him and result in him losing his temper. Again.

Turns out you were incorrect. Again.

Firstly he’s not a fan of sitting still. He’ll sit in one spot for you, but he’s tapping his foot the whole time and fiddling with his phone. So you try to go as fast as you can before he gets too impatient with just sitting there waiting for his turn to draw you.

It turns out a little bit rushed, but you feel like you captured his look pretty well, even adding some red to his glasses and shoes for a splash of color.

But when it’s his turn to draw you…he starts getting frustrated fast. He keeps erasing and starting over, the poor paper getting smudged and wrinkled into oblivion, and eventually he gets mad enough to stop when he accidentally rips through the paper with his pencil.

He shouts a slew of Italian curse words before saying he’s done with this stupid date, slamming the sketchbook onto the table in front of you and storming off in a huff of embarrassment at how poorly the drawing turned out.

Well that went great.

His drawing is honestly pretty cute, the condition of the paper and the eraser smudges and rips tell quite a story…

Because of how crumpled the paper turned out it kinda looks like the hastily drawn version of you got hit by a frying pan or electrocuted by a lightning bolt, but you still like it. It was nice of him to at least entertain your idea, even though it ended up frustrating him.

Diavolo: Draw him? NO.

Not a CHANCE in HELL.

Remove that idea from your mind immediately and never bring it up again. He will not allow even one vague sketch of him to be made, and if you do it anyways he will not forgive you.

Really you should’ve expected that reaction. What were you thinking with that one…?

But if you irritate him enough about it, he’ll Eventually get fed up and tell you to sit down and hold still. If all he has to do to get you to stop whining was sketch you, then FINE. He’ll sketch you.

Stop squirming in your seat and squealing with excitement…you’re giving him a headache.

You try to hold still for him.

He radiates irritation at having to do this, his gaze intense and the strokes of his pencil harsh and deliberate.

“There.”

He tosses the sketchbook over to you and promptly gets up and leaves before he has to hear your feedback.

It’s pretty good actually. A little rough since he drew it while in a particularly foul mood, but if he actually tried he could really make something nice.

If you tell him you love what he drew for you he’ll dismiss your compliment immediately. He doesn’t care about his art skills, he has much bigger things to concern himself with than sitting around sketching his partner whenever they begged him for that kind of attention.

Jolyne Cujoh: At first she thinks it’s a super cute and romantic date idea, so she’s eager to try it with you.

She does a cool pose for you, elegant but powerful, and she tries to hold it for you but it ended up not being the easiest pose to hold so you have to work fast. She ends up having to stretch after that painful pose, and even though you feel a bit bad listening to her complain about how she pulled a muscle doing that, it’s hard not to enjoy how she rolls her shoulders to loosen them.

She says it was totally worth it because she loves your sketch of her. You better believe she’s going to take good care of it, even if you say it’s not good because you had to rush it. Too late. She’s not giving it back. You’ll have to fight her for it, and you know from experience you’re not winning if you try playfully roughhousing with her.

When it’s her turn to draw you, she pretends to be highly concentrated and serious, but she ends up feeling a bit embarrassed when she actually finishes her sketch of you.

It’s not bad at all, very cute, and she gave you sparkly anime eyes since they’re the only type of eye she knows how to draw. The proportions aren’t perfect, your head looks kinda big compared to your body, and it’s pretty simple, but in a way where you could claim it was a stylistic choice and not on accident.

If you really insist you love it she’ll be slightly less embarrassed, but don’t go showing that around to everyone! It’s for your eyes only!

She signs it for you with a playful green lipstick stain.

But seriously. Don’t show it around.

Johnny Joestar: Usually you’re both too tired by the time you’re setting up camp when it starts getting dark during the SBR to think about doing anything cute with each other.

But one evening you have an extra burst of energy, and there’s juuust enough light by the fire to do a sketch of Johnny.

Well, if you want to. He’s not ready to fall asleep yet so you might as well.

You really wanna capture his intense eyes. So you don’t make him do anything in particular except look at you on occasion so you can make sure you’re getting his face right.

It turns out okay. At least you got the eyes right. He doesn’t really know how to react beyond just thanking you and tucking the drawing away. The two of you can only hope nothing happens to it, but it can’t be helped with all the action during this race if your drawing ended up destroyed.

When it’s his turn to draw you, he’s quiet and concentrated, occasionally glancing up at you for accuracy’s sake but otherwise he seems to know what he’s doing, to your surprise.

“I think it turned out alright,” he comments, handing it over to you after signing it with a little star with two J’s in it.

It’s a bit of an understatement, even in the darkness with only the light of the fire to see, he captured an amazing amount of detail. You, sitting contemplatively by the fire, shadows dancing across your face with the flickering of the flames…and he got the scenery really accurate.

“Do you like drawing landscapes, Johnny?”

His sketch of your surroundings was done remarkably skillfully.

He shrugs, but then thinks about it for a moment before saying yeah, landscapes were more enjoyable to draw for him. You have to slow down a bit to capture the details of your surroundings accurately in a drawing so…perhaps he likes the change of pace every once in a while.

Gyro Zeppeli: He acts sooo confident despite knowing full well that he cannot draw people. And he’s a bit of a menace to you, since you said this was only for fun and nothing to take too seriously, then surely you don’t mind him constantly moving around and striking different poses and making weird jokes. If he was going to be ridiculous then FINE, you would draw him ridiculous.

You confidently declare your drawing is quite flattering and then spin your paper around to show him a half-hearted attempt at a sketch of him lying on his side with a rose between his teeth, surrounded by hearts. You’ve purposefully given him a tiny head so it looks silly.

He takes it as a personal challenge, declaring it was his turn so you’d better be ready. While he’s drawing you, you pretend to fall asleep like he was boring you.

You were expecting his drawing to be unprofessional but at least recognizable. When he confidently hands you back what he’s drawn you genuinely aren’t sure what you’re looking at.

“This is me?”

“YES, see this is your hair, and these are your arms…” he explains the drawing to you but can’t help the occasional laugh that escapes. So he WAS messing with you with this incomprehensible scribble he presented you with.

“You really captured my essence,” you say, holding the picture up next to your face to compare them.

“Like you have a twin,” he declares, accompanied by his signature laugh.

He’s such a TEASE sometimes-

Diego Brando: He’s really struggling to grasp the idea that this is just for fun and isn’t supposed to be super serious, because as soon as he’s done posing for you he’s hovering over your shoulder while you draw and backseat sketching for you. He’s like ‘oh my hair should be a little longer, you got my nose shape wrong, that’s not how my eyes look, etc.’

Ok Diego why don’t you draw yourself if you know so much about art, sheesh-

Even if you say that as a joke he might actually end up plucking the sketchbook and pencil from you and finishing it himself so it’s to his likeness. You find it a bit irritating that he’s actually pretty good at art and his additions to your drawing of him really make the piece come together. So annoying. How dare he be innately talented at drawing?

AND just to show off he makes you do a complex pose when it’s his turn to draw you. He ends up capturing it and your appearance on paper wonderfully.

You look great sketched by him, due to the pose he chose it almost looks like you’re in the middle of a dance, a sense of movement that made you look graceful and powerful. Just the type of thing Diego liked in his partners.

You’ve been a bit idealized in his drawing, not to your surprise, but you’re quite fond of it anyways. You make a point of not laying on the praise too thick though. Otherwise it would go to his head, and the last thing he needs is an even bigger ego.

-

Which Jojo character would you want to draw you? Personally I’d love a Rohan original but. I actually think DIO’s art style would be aesthetically pleasing to me-

[sweetflanfiction]

Asymetrical Symphony - Part 26

Universe: Arcane (LOL)

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about LOL is from google and all I know about Arcane is taken from the show, so inacuracies will be plenty. I have a sort of idea on how to I'm gonna go with magic and runes, so bear with me. The reader will be written as GN (going by they/them) to get everyone involved, but if you see any discrepancies let me know

A.N: I'm sorry for the delay. Unfortunately life gets in the way of these things!

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10 • Part 11 • Part 12 • Part 13 • Part 14 • Part 15 • Part 16 • Part 17 • Part 18 • Part 19 • Part 20 • Part 21 • Part 22 • Part 23 • Part 24 • Part 25

• ··········· • ············ •

Thanks to whatever gods were now in charge of watching your endeavors, you made your way quickly and easily through the aqueduct. A mix of Viktor’s knowledge of the place and your ability to unlock doors and create distractions meant you didn’t need to go through the rocky riverbed.

Once on the other side of the river, you both made your way silently toward the main city, and when you arrived back at the park, the sun was already low on the horizon.

Viktor paused next to the small bench you had met by that morning, scratching the back of his neck and biting on his cheek, and you frowned.

“Spit it.” You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow when he looked up at you, but then his gaze drifted away.

“I have a…suggestion to give you, but I’m afraid of what you might think of me after.”

Your frown got deeper as his cheeks got redder.

“Go on.” 

“My apartment is closer to the aqueduct than the penthouse, so…” He cleared his throat. “I think it would be beneficial…and far less exhausting… if…youspendthenightatmyhouse.”

The last part of the sentence came out as fast as the hex claw laser. You got 'spend' and 'house'…ah…

…

“You don’t have to; it is completely up to you, and even if you say yes and then change your mind, you can go! And the walls are really paper-thin, so if you are worried that I do anything to you… I mean you do have magic and I'm not exactly the strongest man in Piltover…once…Jayce gently pushed me away from an experiment, and I toppled over… Embarrassing, really… Why am I telling you this?”

You blinked a couple of times. At first I'm shocked that he had actually asked you to spend time at his place, especially after the day you both had. And then at his comically dramatic rant, a smile appeared on your face as he kept going.

“Alright, sounds like a good plan.”

“Besides, your mother isn’t here yet, and you’d be alone and…wait, what?” He finally stopped to look at you.

“It’s a good idea. We’ll be able to squeeze a few more hours of sleep in and do some planning.”

Viktor started to nod slowly at first and then enthusiastically. His face opened up with a nervous but bright smile.

“You want to go get takeout at Voltaire’s? I’m sure I can convince him to get you some tart…” He announced as he passed you by, waiting for you to follow him.

“No need.” He adjusted his cane, and you could have sworn he had a little more pep in his step. “Jayce came over the other day; his mother usually makes him bring me food. I fear she thinks I can’t feed myself.”

“Eh…pastries and dessert don’t count as a balanced meal plan, Vik.” You joked, and he gave an ‘I don’t care’ type shrug. “I’m just happy you're eating.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” You shifted your backpack’s straps, realizing what you had blurted out.

“Well, work…”

“I can eat and work! That is why I have two hands…” He made a gesture of screwing a bolt and grabbing something to eat.

“Wow…efficient.” He made an agreeing sound with his throat, and you laughed.

“Keep doing it! As much as people would kill for those cheekbones, gaunt wouldn’t look good on you.” You winked at him and laughed when he touched the reddening apple of his cheeks. 

Viktor joined your amusement as you both walked towards the Artist Quarters on your way to Engineering Street. 

The small apartment Viktor had inhabited was, in fact, closer to the aqueduct, between the riverbed and the Academy. Most of the people working in the Academy had housing there. Mostly because the rents were low for them and proximity. It was a step up from dorms, but not really an upgrade in luxury.

And while Engineering Street was quiet throughout the day and night, you’d even say a bit boring, the Artist Quarters were a lively and colorful place, becoming more energetic at night.

The buildings were smaller, with a maximum of 3 floors, but bright with small shops on the floor levels. Bakeries, art shops, music stores. The cobblestone streets were filled with chalk drawings on the ground, and the streetlights had string lights hanging in between them. 

The colors seemed to become brighter in these streets with the number of flowers and small trees and the strewn artists painting on the streets or people drinking and eating on the restaurant’s patio.

You passed by an art supply shop, and someone inside shouted Viktor’s name and waved at him. Viktor did the same, warmly greeting the elderly man storing a display of watercolors on a shelf, and you became curious.

“Mr. Felton sells me the pencils and chalks the council hates so much.” Viktor explained when he saw your expression.

“Have you ever tried drawing?”

“Oh no! Jayce is the artist of the two of us. He’s in charge of doing the initial designs and sketches…I’m good with a ruler, though!”

You were chuckling at his pride and confidence when he suddenly veered right and started to fish something out of his satchel. He took out a key and shoved it into the intricate front door to a beautiful blue-tiled building.

When he noticed you weren’t following him, he turned back and mentioned for you to come.

Viktor, head scientist and co-creator of Hextech, did not live on Engineering Street… Viktor, the color-coding aficionado, lived in the Artists Quarters. And you knew, in your heart of hearts…in the depths of your soul…there was nothing that made more sense than this.

His never-stopping mind didn’t need the monotony of the academy-assigned living quarters. It needs the bustle and the bustle and the colors of this place. You wondered if anything would have been different if the other Viktor had had this thought.

…

The building was beautiful outside and in.

On the outside, the light blue tiled walls were decorated with white columns and stone windows. There were three floors, with the two higher ones having a small veranda on them, just big enough to have two chairs on them. The ivy that crept up on the walls broke the symmetric façade of the building, clinging to the columns and tiles like veiny tendrils of bright green. What really got your attention at first was the front door, a white wood double door with intricate carvings and colorful glass panes, finished with a beautifully curved glass canopy.

The inside of the building was just as wonderful, with pastel brown painted walls and various little plants scattered on corners; the well-used wooden floors gave the inside a cozy feeling. In the middle back of the foyer was an old, small elevator that Viktor quickly made his way to, only stopping at the metal mailboxes to see if anything had been left to him. Nothing.

When you got to the elevator, you noticed Viktor’s hand tapping on the handle of his crutch. He was biting his cheek and slightly frowning, breathing in and out deeply at points.

“Are you alright?” You asked, leaning against the cage of the elevator.

“Mmm?” You nodded to his fingers on the handle, and he stopped, clutching the handle tighter. “Sorry…I--”

“Remember when you said I could change my mind and go? The same applies to you. I can just go.” You made sure your tone wasn’t disappointed or angry or any unintentional emotion that would make him feel bad when there was absolutely nothing to feel bad about. You’d respect his decision the same way you know he’d respect yours.

“No…” he quickly interjected. “I…this is not because I don’t want you here. It is because I do. I’m afraid I may do something that will scare you off…”

“I don’t scare easily.” You want to add, ‘I once spit in the face of a god,’ but then he would start asking questions. So you just touched his hand and smiled. 

The elevator stopped with a mechanical groan, and Viktor nodded, more to himself than to you, and walked out to the second-floor foyer. He opened the door and walked inside with you close behind. However, you couldn’t make it past the door frame without gasping wide-eyed while your mind blanked.

Something about butterflies and wings came to mind, though.

The inside of his apartment was the exact same floor plan as the other dimension. A small kitchenette to the left with a window on top of the sink, and the rest was open space. The glass and wood door to the balcony was on a diagonal corner in front of the main door; next to it was a small arrangement of windows with curved lines going through them, giving them a delicate design. There was a room to the side, which you guessed was the bedroom, and another room at the end of the open space, the bathroom. It wasn’t cramped, but it was small.

You knew this floor plan like the back of your hand; you could close your eyes and go from here to the bathroom without bumping into the wall.

What changed, though, made the entire home feel different. The decorations and the colors. The lived-in details of the furniture.

The walls had been painted a deep forest green, instead of the neutral gray of the other dimension. There were decorations on the walls, diplomas, and schematics displayed proudly. The wooden floors were shiny and covered with rugs here and there.

The small table that served as a divider between the kitchen and the living space had a napkin holder and a wooden straw table mat. There were pans on top of the fridge and plates on the dish rack. There were two mugs on the sink, one of them with ‘man of progress printed on it. 

It contrasted with the table that only served to hold books, boxes, and schematics. On the other timeline, glasses and plates were stored so as not to catch dust from not being used.

The living room had three bookcases filled with trinkets, books, vinyl records, and their player. 

The books weren’t just academic, like the other apartment’s shelves, but also biographies and fantasy, architecture, and philosophy.

You could see the collector's edition of your mother’s saga neatly tucked into a shelf with small ceramic figures of the main characters in front of them. 

There were photos of him, Jayce, Sky, and even your mom and Willah. Noticeably he didn’t look particularly comfortable in any of them, but it was a stark difference from the single photo of Jayce and Viktor at the inauguration of the hexgate and the framed newspaper clipping of the hex crystal discovery. 

The couch was a light dusty pink color with decorative pillows and two folded blankets on the back of it. It was a sharp difference from the leather-bound couch with blankets thrown about and his bed pillow shoved into a corner.

Behind a clothed divider, a desk and some scientific material were completely thrown around, but the mess was enclosed there. Near a big window, you saw the single-seat, twin version of the couch your mother sent to the lab. Tucked in a nook surrounded by plants and books. 

There were shoes on the shoe rack and coats on the coat hanger. There was an open book with a cover-up on the end table near the couch. There were tea stains on the dinner table. There was a life being lived here.

As you walked around the home, with Viktor trailing in front of you explaining and adding commentary to the million new things you were finding in the familiar house, you found yourself wondering why the Viktor you knew from before couldn’t have been gifted this…why was this Viktor standing in front of you smiling and being a generally happy human while his cosmic twin coughed himself to death? It made you sad and happy and angry and relieved.

“Are you alright?” Viktor tapped your shoulder, something he had now started to use to catch your attention instead of grabbing you.

You took a deep breath and mentioned the couch, silently asking permission to sit. Quickly he nodded and grabbed some pillows to make space for you. 

When you fell onto the leathery furniture, he took the place next to you, looking concerned.

“V…I…need to--”

“Meow”

Your speech was interrupted by a long, muffled meow by the front door, accompanied by small scratches on the wood.

“Oh…No, no… I’m sorry…Give me a moment…” Viktor gave an apologetic smile and got up, while you looked on intrigued by this.

He walked towards the bathroom door and opened it and then went back to the front door and did the same. The blackest of black cats intertwined itself on Viktor's legs, giving out small greeting squeaks and purrs.

“Go. Go on. Yes, I know.” Viktor said, smiling softly at the cat, talking back to them as if he could understand. 

The scientist softly nudged the cat with his foot, making the furry critter understand the big human wanted to move.

The cat finally acknowledged you and walked slowly towards where you sat, sitting gracefully in front of you and staring. Their blue eyes looked at you, and you swore that if all of the lights in Piltover were to turn off, the cat's eyes would be the only thing beaming.

“You have a cat.” You stated more than asked.

“Eehhh…Technically, the building has a cat. She just heard me first.” He limped back towards the couch and sat down.

“What's her name?” 

“Noir…Nono for short.” 

The cat leaped to the couch and smelled the hand you gave her. After a while, she deemed you worthy of her time and pushed her head into her hand, while Viktor stroked her body.

“Nono.” You called, and she looked at you. You presented her with your name, and she meowed.

When she was sick of the attention, she jumped down and walked to the bathroom, where you heard the telltale signs of her munching on her food.

“What were you saying?”

Viktor’s face was the definition of relaxed, the concern from before being replaced with a soft gaze and smile. 

Was the need to come clean to him about his cosmic twin attempting to end the world worth him losing his peace? Would the information you were about to vomit change what he has so carefully built?

“I…think I just need to eat.” You gave him a bright smile, and he laughed quietly.

“Very well.” He got up from the couch and made his way to the kitchen counter, and you followed him. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

You already were, the familiar floor plan making you feel at home. You sat at the dinner table watching him open his fridge and take out some glass containers with food and place them in the oven to heat up. 

Viktor sat on a chair next to you and slowly took off his leg brace, sighing in release.

“If you want to, you can shower. I can go ask Madame Theroux, my neighbor, if she can let me borrow one of her kid's old clothes… I think she might have something that fits you.” 

“Oh no…That’s too much of a bother.”

“Nonsense.” He got up and grabbed a discarded cane that was hooked on the divider and walked towards his bedroom. 

After a while, he came out holding two fluffy towels and handed them to you. “She probably already heard I have company; might as well come clean sooner than later; otherwise she’ll be knocking on my door to snoop.”

“Sounds like a charm.” You grabbed the towels.

“She is actually. She’s very protective of us…the people in the building.” He smiled and mentioned the bathroom door. “If you could just leave the door ajar so Nono can come in and out…otherwise she will throw a tantrum.”

The black cat, now curled up on the couch, meowed at hearing her name. You nodded and walked to the bathroom while Viktor made his way to his neighbor's door.

“Oh…you can use whatever you need from there.” He opened the door and paused again. “There’s a robe on the back of the door if you need it.”

The door clicked shut, and you looked at Nono, who looked up at you and blinked slowly.

The bathroom was big, and while in the other dimension, it was just a well, normal bathroom; this one had been enhanced to help Viktor with his disability.

There were grab rails next to the slightly raised toilet and in the shower nook. All of the towel racks were sturdy enough to assist if he needed.

The floor had several thin anti-slip rugs, and the shower also had one that looked like wood. 

There was also a stool inside the shower that you assumed he would use when needed.

You and Viktor in your timeline had once talked about this, making his house accessible for when he needed it, but his answer had been dismissive. A shrug and an ‘I spend more time in the lab anyway.’ Maybe you should have insisted; maybe you should have been more enthused about making it easier for him. Maybe if you had, he would have seen you in a better light after he had gotten the news.

It frustrated you that ‘maybes’ were all you had now. Even if you went back to your dimension, those things would still be in a maybe and if pile.

You heard the door close and started your shower quickly. You heard a knock on the door.

“There is a chair outside the door, in arm's reach for you to take. Madame Theroux said she threw in some undergarments…I didn’t check.” 

“Thank you.” 

You finished the shower and grabbed the clothes. Some red cotton checkered bottoms, a matching shirt, a white undershirt, and undergarments. It looked cozy, and it did fit you perfectly. This brought up the question of how Viktor had described you to the neighbor for her to get accurate measurements.

Walking out of the bathroom intent on joking about it with him, you stopped when you saw him haul a blanket and what you assume was a pillow to the couch.

“Oh. You are done.” He smiled, grabbed some clothes from the back of the couch, and walked towards you. “I think the food will be done soon. I am going to take a shower too, and then we eat, yes?”

You were still looking at the pillow and the sheet that was already tucked into the sofa. 

“This for me?” You blurted it out before he passed you, and he shook his head.

“No. You’re my guest. You sleep on the bed.” He sounded proud of himself. “May I?”

Viktor pointed to the door of the bathroom, and you noticed you had been blocking his path. You took a step forward, and he smiled, walked inside, and pushed the door almost closed.

The ruffling of clothes snapped you out of your stupor, and you walked towards the kitchen, throwing daggers at the couch.

• ··········· • ············ •

@marshy-moo @victormydarling @blueesmiski @th3stup1dcat @22carolina08 @httpstes @that-one-shitty-blog @disa-pointment @sseleniaa @kitewa @moons-lighttrail @aysluxe @fae-doodle @local-mr-frog @bakusquadobsessed @cherry-cola-100 @optimistic-but-very-realistic @seeksrsnn @thecordelialetters @notsaelty @lansy-4 @ayupfrogg @sammypotato @wnbrw @lucycarlisleswife @noxturnalmoth @ren-ren23 @furblrwurblr @kapitankarate @mynicknameisgasoline @octo-octopie @birbwithhat @kneelarmhstrung @dedicated2viktor @elvishstudies @iamfandomnerd @jazzypop-op @jojo-at-heart @deceivethedreamer

[tricksh0t]

★ need a ride?

☾ aemond targaryen x top m reader

𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘴 ⛥ 2.04k

cw: very subby aemond, dom top m reader, riding, one spank, mean reader, begging, daddy kink, dacryphilia, sort of humping, the L word but you don't really mean it (love) though it's not implied enough, written with an age gap in mind

To have one of the princes of the Seven Kingdoms on your cock regularly was a privilege. What you've done with that is declare that you prefer him riding you over fucking him, just because of how pathetic it makes him. This time, you make him face away from you, tall, pale body tilted towards a mirror in front of your bed.

Aemond is more focused on the movement than the mirror, but if he looked, he'd find that your sight is more focused on what's in front of you, of course, his ass and the way it ripples every time he slams down hard.

It's rare, though. He's uncoordinated, a mess teetering on the edge of release, just waiting for your command. Seeing your cock disappear into his hole is pleasure enough, though.

"Please, daddy." Aemond sobs. Both eyes cry.

"Please what, sweet prince?" You tear your eyes away from his ass to watch him in the mirror, to watch how the tears stream down his cheeks and how his nose is wrinkled.

Aemond, usually fierce, usually aggressive, so ready to become a usurper, and he's crying on your cock.

"I–" Aemond shakes his head, hands gripping the sheets in front of him. He can't find the words, not between sobs and sharp inhales.

When your hand comes down upon his ass with a sharp slap, it shocks him out of his sobs. "Fuck!"

"Calm down, Prince Aemond." You call in a calm tone he'd find mocking if his mind were with him.

From a pit in your hand you do not often find in you, you grant him mercy, letting him take a break.

He moans when you grab his hips and make you take you whole, but leave him there. "What is it that makes you cry?"

Aemond moves to wipe his cheeks, but you catch the movement in the mirror and stop him; partly because you like the way he looks with his cheeks wet and, "Don't rub your cheeks raw, sweetheart. Just talk to me."

"'S good, daddy." Aemond says weakly. You're proud, at least, that he doesn't stutter.

"So why are you sorrowful?" Your hands rub circles into his hips, and that has them shuddering, rubbing your cock inside of him.

"I am not." He denies vehemently, shaking his head. His eyes finally meet yours through the mirror. "It's–they're happy tears. I think."

"Mm, that kind?" You hum.

Your low voice invokes a reaction in Aemond. He squirms a little on his knees. "Yes."

"Then what is it you plead for?" His mouth opens to speak, but you continue, "You have everything you could want. You have my cock, you have pleasure, you have Vhagar, you're a prince, you're wealthy."

"I–" So it wasn't just the crying that was stopping him from talking. He hiccups suddenly.

"You're embarrassed. Is that it, sweet prince?"

He nods his head just barely.

"Speak your mind." Your voice is commanding. His eyes shy away from yours. "We have known each other intimately, inside and out. You can barely stand being clothed around me. You bare yourself to me often. Surely that must merit a loose tongue."

"Please fuck me, daddy. I need that, I need it, please." He begs so sweetly.

When you give no response, he tries to turn around, but you swing him right back with hands on his shoulders. You click your tongue, and the combination of all that–your cock still in him, the disappointed sound, the manhandling–makes him flinch. "I did tell you that I wanted you to ride me, yes?"

Confusion spreads across Aemond's features along with some kind of hurt at not being able to see you outside of your reflection. "Yes?"

"Yes, who?" You ask roughly, slapping one of his dreadfully pale asscheek just to get a reaction.

"Yes, daddy!" Aemond practically wails.

"And you will do whatever your daddy wishes you to do, won't you?" You didn't even wait for him to reply, because it would matter little to you. "I told you what I wanted, and you didn't object. You do not get to change your mind now, boy."

"I–"

Your hand lays on his pale asscheek, and that reminds Aemond of, though he might not be able to see it, his other now red, stinging cheek. It shocks him into obedience. "Yes, daddy."

"There you are." You raise your hands up to hold his hips gently, a big contrast from how you handled him earlier. "Go on then, sweetheart."

Eyelids snap shut over violet and scarred blue eyes as Aemond gets back into a rhythm, or as best a rhythm as he can muster.

Riding you makes him feel like you're splitting him open, which he should like–love, even–but the movement makes his thighs burn and his knees ache.

He can't deny, though, that it feels fucking good. His gummy walls clench around your cock just to feel you more.

Aemond's bad at this, but he doesn't even realize it.

You do, plain as day. He's slow, never consistent, he finishes too quickly.

You do kind of like how sloppy he is, and how it takes him so long that your cock'll stretch him gaping. What he lacks in skill he makes up for in effort, and you know he'll always want to please daddy. Your praise misleads him.

You grasp his cheeks in both hands, making him gasp, and then you guide him. "Like that, sweetheart."

It's fruitless, as when you let go, he continues at his own pace. It's amusing, anyway, to see his face scrunch up with effort.

"Yeah," You coo, hands settling back onto his hips and rubbing, "you got it."

You can see sweat trails on his back.

Aemond's giving riding your cock his all. He's always particularly enjoyed being full, and he wants that now. You'd call it milking. Redness burns in his cheeks.

Nevermind what you'd call it, Aemond wants it. He doubles his efforts, wanting it before, or even while, he cums himself.

He clenches the sheets, knuckles ghostly white against his already pale skin.

He can feel it, coiling up in his stomach. It's like dragonfire, the way it spreads throughout his body and excites him.

Aemond rides you faster after that, chasing his release. He wants it. Wants it, wants it, wants it.

The dragonfire turns to ash as a real fire burns, making his limbs ache.

"I can't." Aemond breathes out, out of breath with a dry tongue. Exhaustion makes itself evident the same way as pleasure did, spreading from his core to his knees to his arms. When he speaks next, there's a sob, "Daddy, I can't."

"What do you mean you can't, sweetheart?" You ask, pressing a thumb against the base of his spine.

There's sweat there, a thick sheen. "I'm–"

"Exhausted?" You click your tongue, and the burning shame of disappointment accompanies Aemond's exhaustion. "You've barely been on my cock for an hour, sweet boy."

"Please." Aemond begs. He slides his body down, pressing his chest to the sheets and arching his back; still on your cock and still on his knees, but you can see how they're about to give.

He's presenting himself to you, showing you what you can have.

"You can do it, Aemond. You've done it a thousand times before."

Aemond shakes his head. He doesn't even care for the way it makes him rub his sweat and tears onto the mattress below him. "Not this time, daddy please."

"Get up."

"Daddy–"

"I said get up."

He obeys, upper half lifting off the bed in a struggle. His calf slides out from under his knee in an effort to stand, but you grasp it harshly.

"I said get up, not stand. Turn." You almost regard him like someone that needs taking care of. "Turn around now."

Aemond does so, gladly, happy to see your face even with the tears blurring his vision and even if he has to slip off your dick. You pull him further to straddle your hips.

"You," You begin, grabbing a handful of his hair to tuck his wet face into your neck. His chest presses against yours. "will keep going, and you will continue until I finish, you understand?"

"Y-Yes, daddy." His voice is shaky.

"Say it like you mean it. I've made this easier for you, I'm holding you up, you've got me to hold onto, and you'll be rubbing your cock right against me like a dog. So again, say it like you mean it, Aemond."

"Yes, daddy." Aemond says. You can hear it in his voice that he understands what you're giving him and that he's grateful. You're right, of course you're right. "Thank you, daddy."

He rolls his hips, a whole lot better than the bouncing he was attempting earlier, not for feeling but for how much work it takes.

Pressed so close against you, sweaty skin against sweaty skin, with each roll of his hips he's pressing his dick against you. It's not intentional, just a byproduct of the proximity, but before long it becomes intentional.

He humps you more than rolls his hips, losing his mind in the pleasure. That slick feeling of his pre and your sweat making it good and easier only reminds him of Sylvi.

That only makes him feel better, imagining it.

Aemond moans, but it turns into a gasp when your fingers thread through his hair, stuck together with sweat.

"What did I tell you?"

His mind is lost to him, so he answers literally, "That you–you've made it easier."

You chuckle, "Well, haven't I?"

"Yes." Aemond breathes out. He doesn't even need you to correct him or ask, "Yes it does, daddy. It's so good, daddy. Thank you, thank you."

When he rolls his hips, it's shallow, barely rising up, but it feels good anyway. It's more about being full, taking his daddy's cock like he's made for it.

He already knows he'll be sore in the morning, hole melded to the shape of your cock.

His thighs burn again, but this time he'll get over it. It feels too good to give up.

You cradle him like he's entirely yours, a warm, guiding hand on the small of his back and another on the back of his head, keeping him against you. It's almost like you care for him.

You can still see his back, through the mirror. He rolls his hips too softly for it to be a sight, but you can still see the effort he puts into it. Furthermore, you can watch your cock disappear in and out of him, watch the way it stretchesh him, how it almost looks like he's sucking you in. That is what turns you on.

"Keep it going, sweetheart." You whisper into his ear.

"Yes, daddy."

You place a tender kiss at the top of Aemond's head and he shudders.

He's darn beautiful, he is. Clean shaven, everywhere. No hair on his arms, his chest or his legs. You know that special little attention to the cleanliness of his shaved hole is for you, too.

Outside of dragons, death and politics, he is rather sweet, you suppose; and no one else knows.

His lips grow apart, looser the closer he gets to release.

It's hot against your neck, your sweat and the remains of his tears, his everconstant pants, the overabundance of his messy hair.

He can't keep still, neither his hips nor his head. Sometimes his teeth find your skin, sharp like a preadator's. He'd never bite down, anyhow. Doesn't have the mind to.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah?"

You'd been too caught up with thinking about how he was all yours, and with his cute little backside, that you didn't notice he was so close.

Aemond can barely moan a "cumming–!" before he's finishing all over your front. He slumps right over his own mess in exhaustion, breaths slowing as he relaxes. He think it's all over, blissed out as he is.

"There you go. Love you, yeah?" You murmur, pressing your nose to the top of his head.

Aemond hums deliriously, "Hm? Oh, love you too."

You flip the two of you over, ready to have your way, as Aemond had before. You hadn't finished yet, after all. He'd understand.

"Wait, daddy–"

[marvelrivalsimagines]

A Blessing From the Gods

Characters: Hela, Moon Knight, Scarlet Witch, Winter soldier

Prompt: “could you do Moon knight, Bucky and any other character of your choice with another avatar of a Greek gods?” - anon request

Author’s note: I tried to keep which God you are the avatar of vague so you can imagine whatever kinds of powers/backstory you’d like. Also I’m not sure if the requester wanted the HCs to be romantic or platonic but I think these can be read either way. 

Warnings: None!

When Hela sees you for the first time she is immediately intrigued by your presence, for better or worse. She can tell that you are definitely no god yourself, yet she can sense that you have brushed with divinity frequently. She has had brief, and awkward, conversations with Moon Knight about his connection to Khonsu so she realizes that you must also be an avatar. But an avatar of which god? As much as Hela likes to pretend she’s all knowing and above childish emotions like curiosity, she can’t satiate her burning desire to know more until she finally talks to you for herself. 

Hela approaches you with her usual confident smirk and a snide comment about how there appears to be “yet another mortal avatar running about”. As you share your first conversation Hela's face is stoic as she bluntly asks you her burning questions, but if you are observant enough you can see an amused look in her eye. Hela is pleasantly surprised, you are far more interesting to her than Khonsu’s little knight. 

As Hela learns more about your relationship with your god she says she finds herself even more thankful for her dominion over death, preferring to rely on her legions of Hel to do her bidding over having some weak and fickle human. A lot of your conversations have this same energy lol. It sometimes feels like the goddess looks down on you, but it’s undeniable that she enjoys your presence simply because she keeps coming back to you.

A lot of the other heroes think that Hela has it out for you with how much she picks on you. It isn’t common for Hela to have good intentions for anybody outside of herself, not even her own brothers. But with all the time you’re starting to spend with the goddess of death, you’re able to pick up on the subtle tone of affection in her voice when she speaks to you. Even if her words are just as demeaning as what she would say to others. 

If you have a more adversarial relationship with your God, Hela is always eager to listen to your complaints and she always takes your side on arguments. Hela doesn’t have many good relationships with the other gods but she likes you, so as far as she’s concerned you’re always right. Hela also loves stirring the pot between other gods, so sometimes she’ll give you less violent ways to get back at your god. For example, she’ll tell you stories of something embarrassing that happened to your god centuries ago and then tell you to bring it up to your god whenever they start to bother you.

To be completely honest, the Moon Knight system doesn’t pay you much mind when you first join the fight for the multiverse. The Fist of Khonshu is here to carry out his god’s will so his senses are focused on the mission at hand, not necessarily the people around him. Marc knows you’re there as he’s cautiously aware of all the people around him, but it’s the old bird who brings his attention to you. Khonshu, with his knowledge of the other gods and their avatars, recognizes you and then proceeds to yap about your god in Marc’s head for 5 minutes straight. 

How your first interaction with Moon Knight goes depends a lot on what Khonshu has to say about your god. If he speaks positively about your god then Marc is definitely curious about what kind of a person you are. Khonshu historically hasn’t played well with the other gods, so Marc can’t help but wonder what kind of deity you’re wrapped up with if Khonshu can get along with them. If Khonshu doesn’t like your god then Marc may be pressured by Khonshu to confront you in an attempt to settle some 2,000 year old beef between gods. I’ll pray for you if that’s the case 

But whether your first encounter is out of Marc’s own curiosity or because of Khonshu’s petty drama, as the two of you inevitably talk Moon Knight feels a small connection starting to grow with you. Marc’s connection to Khonshu has always seemingly alienated him from the other heroes who think he’s plain crazy, but as a fellow avatar you’re both able to share some of your experiences with each other. Whether your relationship with your own god is as turbulent as Marc’s or not, Marc feels a slight weight lifted off his shoulders as he’s able to speak with someone who can truly understand the pressure of constantly being beneath a god’s gaze. 

Marc doesn’t let many people into his life, but when people do get close to him the entire Moon Knight system becomes very protective over them. So if you have a bad relationship with your god, or really anything in your life starts to go south, Moon Knight’s first instinct is to seek out some sort of revenge for you. However it’s obviously not possible for him to go against a whole god on your behalf and that fact is really frustrating for Moon Knight. Be careful what you complain about around Moon Knight, he will throw hands for you at a moment's notice lol.

Wanda is unfortunately another one who doesn’t pay too much attention to the people around her, so she might not acknowledge you at first. She’s worried about preserving the very fabric that holds her reality together, so you’re gonna have to do something kind of eye-catching to initially get her attention lol. 

As one of the most powerful magic wielding beings and the Sorceress Supreme of her universe, one thing that will definitely make her interested in you is any magical abilities your god may have bestowed upon you. While Wanda is concentrating on controlling her own chaos magic on the battlefield, her mind is still able to recognize a kind of magic she has never seen before. Cue her now being mildly distracted as she low key tries to watch you and fight the enemy team at the same time. 

Instantly Wanda has a need to know everything about your abilities, and as soon as the battle is over she’s trying to speak to you. What kind of magic do you wield? How did you get these powers? Are you just a beginner at magic or can you show her some of your advanced spells? Honestly it might kind of feel like when you tell someone you have a skill, like drawing or speaking another language, and someone just immediately puts you on the spot and asks you to do it for them. It’s especially intimidating if you know that she’s the Sorceress Supreme of her universe, like how are you supposed to impress her lol? But don’t worry Wanda means well, she’s just very blunt and is curious about the different kinds of magic people have access to in these new universes <3

Wanda isn’t known for being very social, but whenever there is down time in between missions you two tend to seek each other out now. Whether it’s a conversation about your personal lives over some lunch, or the both of you focusing on honing your magic in complete silence, Wanda is so used to your presence that it starts to feel strange when you’re not around. In her universe she’s constantly holding reality together, constantly fighting off magical threats, constantly trying to gain more control over her powers. But here with you Wanda greatly enjoys feeling more like a ‘normal’ person. 

You know, if you’re having a problem with your god you’ve now got a whole Sorceress Supreme on your side, and Wanda isn’t afraid of talking back to gods and higher beings. In her timeline she is constantly trying to stop power hungry gods from collapsing her universe, so if you need someone to just casually intimidate your god into being a bit kinder to you, Wanda has more than enough experience to get the job done. She will ask to speak to the manager for you.

Everything that’s happened in the first few weeks of the time stream entanglement has become a blur for Bucky. Suddenly he’s in another dimension with a new (and tentacle-y?) metal arm and he’s fighting alongside other heroes from different dimensions for the fate of the universe. Alright, cool. This is fine. Before all of this mess started, meeting you and being told that you’re an avatar of a Greek god could have shocked Bucky, but now that fact somehow seems like the most normal thing he’s been told in his life. 

As you, Bucky, and the rest of your team head out on your mission Bucky has heard a little bit about your background from Steve, who gave him a brief on all of their strange new teammates. As you clash with the heroes on the other side of the fight Bucky finds his normally focused senses drifting to you. Divine powers tend to be pretty flashy, and a trained soldier like Bucky can immediately see how skilled you are at what you do. As Bucky gets caught off guard by a diving Psylocke, the flash of your abilities is a welcome sight as you help him fend her off. Your reward for helping Bucky? A gruff “Thanks”, before he hones in on another enemy. Isn’t he dreamy <3

After that fight you’ll most likely have to approach Bucky first. Bucky knows he should probably give you a proper thank you for your help, but unfortunately Hydra brainwashing will do a number on your social skills. When you check in on Bucky after the fight is over, you’ll find that he’s slightly more talkative than usual - really just towards you, Steve, or Clint though. He has a lot of questions he'd like to ask you, he’s not as familiar with all these gods and aliens as some of the other heroes are, but he also doesn’t want to accidentally offend you. Bucky knows that he certainly doesn’t have a happy or inspiring story behind how he got his powers, so he doesn’t want to accidentally be too invasive. 

As the two of you grow closer you notice that Bucky tends to stick by your side a lot, both in and out of combat. In combat, Bucky sticks by your side as he knows that he can rely on you if things get rough. He also wants to be there in case he needs to return the favor and help get a diver off of your back. But when you both are just relaxing in between missions, Bucky finds comfort in your presence. Consciously or subconsciously, Bucky knows that you’re a person he can let his guard down around, which isn't a very common experience for him. With everything that he’s been through in life, the fact that the former Winter Soldier trusts you means a lot. 

Bucky really empathizes with you if you have a bad relationship with the god you serve. He has a lot of experience with being used as a living weapon, being treated like your only worth is what you can do for the person giving you your orders. He can’t stand to see another person live that way, especially not when it’s you. Bucky knows that he can’t go up against a god, and he knows enough about these kinds of power dynamics to understand that trying to stand up for you might actually make your situation worse. So Bucky commits himself to supporting you in whatever way you ask him to.

[lilgarbitch]

lovesick - Noah Sebastian

Beside You Pt. 3

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader

CW: groveling, anxiety, angst, the whole shabang

Word Count: 4.5k

Author‘s Note: 🫵🏻 HAHA SUCKERS jk i hope you enjoy

Tags: @theanarchymuse95 @dontwantthemoney @chey-h @badomensgoodomens @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @enemiestolovershoe @blade-dressed-in-red @xmads-omensx @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @thatchickwiththecamera @tosoundlessdarkistare @lacy1986

Y/N

I had to force myself out of bed again today. Some days are better than others, but days like these, ones where I don‘t have work or anything planned, I have to give myself a reason to actually get up. Sometimes just the walk to the living room is all I can do, but today I‘m making myself do some shopping. The cupboards are running dry and I‘ve been surviving on delivery for too long to be healthy. After throwing on presentable but comfortable clothes, I make my way to the grocery store. 

My mind has been in a fog for as long as I can remember, so as I shop, I have to repeatedly check my list to make sure I don‘t forget anything, causing me to circle the store a few times. As I make it to the wine aisle, far back into the store, I hear a bit of laughter nearby. Like a bunch of college kids on their first grocery trip together who can‘t help but laugh at everything. It puts a small smile on my face, remembering what it was like to try and do things like this with the boys. Folio always doing whatever he could to make us laugh, Noah tripping over his own feet (Or Nick‘s) and almost crashing the cart, and Nick pretending like he hated us for causing a ruckus, even if he was constantly adding to it. 

I let the small sweet memory play in my mind as I scan the aisle, debating on what I wanted. I‘ve been good with drinking away my sorrows in the last few years, calming down after the first one, but I never know when those days will creep back in, so I decide on two bottles of a sweet, low ABV wine, and place them in my cart. I pause to take one last glance at my list, making sure I got everything, before looking back up to start heading to the check-out. 

And that‘s when my eyes land on someone. Someone in a cap, sunglasses, too familiar long hair, and an identical sleeve as Nick‘s. Every cell in my body froze as I watched him walk towards the aisle near mine, eyeing up the rows of beer. I watch as he decides on a case, grabbing it and finally lifting his head. His eyes barely grazed mine, before he did a double take. And then we just stand there, staring at each other. After a few moments, he blinks, glances behind him for a second, and then turns back towards me. I can practically hear the gears spinning in his head, debating how he wants this interaction to go. Or maybe they‘re the gears in my mind, thinking the same thing. Finally, he starts walking towards me, an awkward yet warming smile on his face. 

‘‘Y/N…Hi,“ He practically whispers, knocking me back into reality as I finally hear his voice again after almost 4 years. 

‘‘Uh..Hi. How are you?“ I almost grimace at how awkward this is, when, for years, we used to be able to talk about anything.

‘‘I‘m good. The boys and I are actually playing a show at the Canal Club tonight,“ He rushes out, like he needed to explain why he was finally here after so long. I nod, trying to show how proud I was, and not the pain and fear I was feeling, knowing that they were all back in Richmond tonight, ‘‘How have you been?“

I take the most subtle deep breath I could, needing to put all my energy into putting on a front. It would be embarrassing for him to find out that I‘m still hurting all these years later. That to this day, I‘ve yet to move on and I still miss them all more than anything. 

‘‘I‘m good!,“ I reply, maybe a little too enthusiastically. I try to keep a smile on my face, trying my best not to make it seem too forced, “Still at the same house. Still waitressing at the same place. Not much has changed.”

I almost see a small hint of shock on his face, but he just nods. He’s probably thinking about how I’ve gone nowhere with my life since they left, which was true. Them leaving destroyed me. I haven’t been able to do much other than the bare minimum. But I don’t want him or anyone else to know that, so I just let him know that life is the same old shit as before. 

“Well, you look great. I like what you’ve done with your hair,” He says with a small smile. I mirror his smile, ignoring the fact that he’s talking about the grown out, faded hair that I was currently covering with a beanie. I give him a small thanks, before I see a face pop up out of the corner of my eye. 

My stomach drops, I knew he wasn’t here alone, but I wasn’t sure how much more of this I could handle at the moment without fully preparing myself. All I saw was a tall, tattooed man with long hair walking our way in my peripheral, and I was silently begging to any higher being watching over it wasn’t who I thought it was. And thankfully, they answered. In comes their new member I haven't met yet. Nick glances to the side and gives him a small nod. 

“Jolly, this is Y/N. Y/N, Jolly,” Nick introduces us. I reach my hand out with a small smile, truly happy it was him and not any of the other guys. I pretend I don’t see the small look Nick gives Jolly before we shake hands. 

“Nice to meet you,” I say with the best sweet voice I could muster at the moment. 

“You, too. I’ve always wanted to meet some of the boy’s home friends they talk about,” he replies, with one of the thickest accents I’ve probably ever heard around here. I ignore the way he called me their friend, not knowing if he knows the full story or not. 

“Yeah, we were just uh..catching up. I mentioned that we were playing here tonight,” Nick throws in, trying to keep the conversation going. 

“Oh? They didn’t tell you already?” And there was my answer to if he knew our history or not. “Well why don’t you come down to see us perform? I bet we can hook you up with a ticket.”

I glance at Nick as I debate my answer, and surprisingly, he has an almost hopeful look in his eyes, making me rethink everything. 

“I..Uh..I’ll see if I can free up some time,” I lie.

”Well, we’ll tell them that there’s a free ticket waiting for you with your name on it. Why don’t you text one of the guys when you figure it out so we know. Maybe we can hang out after the show? I bet it’s been a while since you’ve all seen each other,” Jolly says, to which I nod. 

“Yeah, I’ll see what I can do. I’m still at the old house, like I said, so we can hang there if the others are up for it,” I awkwardly ramble, already feeling a pit forming in my stomach at the invitation I almost wish I didn’t give, both desperately wanting to have them in my home again, but also knowing I won’t be able to handle it.

Nick nods with an even more hopeful look on his face, and Jolly has a pleased, relaxed look, completely oblivious to what he’s about to witness if we all come together again. They talk a bit about the show, still sounding hopeful I’ll come, before we say our goodbyes, Jolly’s being a “See you later,” as if he already knows I want to see the other boys more than anything. 

My mind was racing even more than before as I pay for my groceries and make my way home. As I look through my closet, trying to find the perfect outfit to wear. As I stare at my appearance, knowing I’ll see Noah again tonight.

Do I wear something from the time we spent together? It’s not like I’ve gotten that much clothes since then, other than outfits that aren’t really ‘going out’ wear. My hair’s a mess. I have a few hours until the show. Do I redye it? Do I present myself as someone who hasn’t been slowly dying on the inside since the day they left? 

They’ve all changed so much in the last few years, so do I want to show that I have as well? Even though my version of change wasn’t for the better? Or do I show up looking like a day hasn’t passed, wearing what I always used to and bring back old memories like they will for me?

I already know I’m going to spend the next few hours freaking out over everything, knowing it’s going to be an emotional night as well. 

Noah

Folio swats at my hand, pulling me out of my thoughts and causing me to pull my fingers from my mouth as I was chewing my nails with anxiety. I go to glare at him before Nick catches my attention out of the corner of my eye. I asked him to run to the store for snacks and drinks, specifically requesting some type of alcohol in hopes it would ease my nerves just a little bit, so I was thankful he was finally back. But as our eyes met, I see that he has this sheepish look on his face. Then Jolly bounds through the door, as excited as ever. 

“We ran into your friend at the store! She’s really pretty,” he exclaims, causing me to completely stop breathing. I look back over at Nick, probably looking absolutely terrified, and he just nods. 

“You ran into Y/N?” I ask, trying not to sound too excited or worried.

”Yeah! I told her she should come to the show tonight. She even invited us back to her place after, if you guys are up for it,” Jolly answers. 

“She…She’s coming to the show tonight?” I ask slowly, and he nods, completely oblivious to how freaked out I was right now. 

“She didn’t confirm, but I assume she will. I mean, why wouldn’t she want to see you guys after so long? Especially now that we’re touring. I told her to text one of you if she can or not.”

I stare at Jolly for a few moments before turning to Nick, then Folio, all of them staring back at me. Jolly, confused with my reaction, and the other two with a pitying, yet hopeful look on their faces. 

“What am I missing?” Jolly asks. Thankfully, Nick responds.

”Y/N used to be…family. Even more to Noah than the rest of us.” He looked at him even more confused, not catching on yet. 

”Well? What happened?”

”I left.” I answer bluntly, making him turn back to me. 

“What do you mean?”

”I up and left. We were friends since childhood, dating for almost three years…and I left her to move to L.A.” He stares at me, waiting for me to continue, but I don’t.

”And I’m guessing she didn’t take it well?” I shook my head. 

“I purposely didn’t want her to take it well…I completely dropped her. The second I made the decision to leave, I decided it was best to get her to hate me so it wouldn’t hurt more in the long run. But it did. At least for me. It’s been almost four years since I pushed her away and it’s my biggest regret…And now, tonight, I might see her again.”

”Dude, what the fuck? Why the hell wouldn’t you at least try? I understand long distance sucks, but we’re getting big. We could’ve easily covered flights. You could’ve talked on the phone. She could’ve fucking moved out here with you.” Jolly practically berates me. 

“I couldn’t do that to her. I didn’t want to drag her along into my dream when she could’ve chased her own. I couldn’t have her constantly waiting for me while I lived this life, bringing her out here, knowing no one, and never being there for her as we all worked on our band. She’s probably so much better off with this freedom.”

“Noah…When I talked to her earlier, she didn’t look great. She told me she was still living in that house, and hasn’t even changed jobs. She looked like life has been dragging her down ever since. She needed you. Needs you.” Nick cut in, completely catching me off guard. I stare at him as I let his words sink in, not knowing if I hated the regret I felt knowing I absolutely destroyed her by making this decision, or if I was grateful to know that she still needed me as much as I needed her after all these years. 

I let out a sigh and fall back onto the couch, draping my arm over my face as the pain resurfaced once again, this time more confusing. I knew I fucked up, but I kept her waiting all these years. I destroyed a once amazing, happy girl, who was always there for me and my brothers. I made them cut her off too, assuming it would ease the trouble of leaving. This whole time, I was killing us both. As terrified I was, I needed to see her. I needed to make this right. Because I missed her more than anything. 

Y/N

I step into the crowd, hiding myself in the mix of people. I knew from the countless shows that the boys and I went to that I needed to stay off to the side so I didn’t deal with too many pushing people and crowd surfers, definitely not in the mood for that tonight, but I wanted to be close enough to the stage that I could see them well. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t excited. I watched my boys perform together countless times, just always in someone’s garage or dingy little stages in random tiny venues around town. This would be the first time I was actually seeing them perform their dream. 

Apparently, Cane Hill was playing first, then them, so I had a little more time to prepare to see them all for the first time in so long. I was still freaking out over seeing Nick after all these years that I didn’t know how I was going to handle seeing Folio and Noah. Especially Noah. 

I was terrified that they’d be looking for me in the crowd, so I was making sure I was blending in as much as possible, and then I could either sneak back home after if this was too much, or try and find them once they got off stage. 

As the lights finally turned off and the first band took stage, I couldn’t focus. Their music was good, but I couldn’t stop checking my phone, counting down the minutes of their set. I kept fixing my clothes, hoping my skirt wasn’t riding up too much and that I wasn’t over or under dressed. My mind was a mess. I didn’t know how tonight would play out and I was terrified. I kept running possible scenarios in my head of how everything could go wrong or if anything would go right. How do we fix any of this? Was it even worth fixing? 

As Cane Hill walked off stage, I had to close my eyes and take a few deep breaths. My stomach was hurting with anxiety and I could hear my heart racing out of my chest. I didn’t open my eyes until I heard cheering around me once more. 

Folio walked on stage, his large smile the same as it’s always been. He walked up to the drum set as Nick and Jolly stepped out, guitar and bass already slung across their fronts as they sauntered into their spots, looking confident as ever. I couldn’t help but smile. Some of my anxiety started to ease. They looked like they were meant to be here. To have a large crowd cheering for them, excited to hear them perform. They deserved this. And that proud feeling was just enough to distract me for the main attraction to sneak onto stage.

There he was…

The love of my life. The one who kept me sane for as long as I can remember. The one who brought me comfort in the darkest times. The one who created even darker times. The man I’ll never forget for as long as I live. Noah was once again standing in front of me. 

I watched as his eyes scanned the crowd, probably looking for me, but thankfully it was dark enough that he wouldn’t be able to see. As they started their first song, I couldn’t help but get emotional. To hear his voice in person again, even if it was through speakers like it has been since they released their album, brought me both pain and comfort. He was here. We were once again in the same room. 

As the show went on, I found myself singing along. The music allowed my nerves to calm a little, and being hidden from his sight and just being able to admire him from afar allowed me to feel a sense of peace for the first time in a long time. He sounded amazing. He was meant for the stage. As I let myself join in with everyone else cheering and singing along, I took the chance to really appreciate how much he’s grown. How confident he’s gotten being in the spotlight. How perfect he looks standing in front of hundreds of people, getting admired for his talent. 

And I get so caught up in finally enjoying my time that their set eventually comes to an end. And he speaks into the mic, letting me hear his voice one more time as he introduces the band and thanks everyone for being there. And I listen to his velvety voice being blared through the speakers one last time before they all step off stage. 

And now I wasn’t sure what to do. Do I watch the rest of the show, staying hidden from them? Do I leave? Or do I search for them? The room was practically pitch black as everyone waited for New Year’s Day to come out, so I didn’t think there was much I could do anyway. 

But then I feel my phone buzz in my hand. I look at it and see a text, surprised to see that he hasn’t changed his number and his nickname was still unchanged in my phone.

Nicky- Come to the left side of the stage

I glace up and see his face illuminated by his phone, and without thinking, my legs take me towards him. It was a bit of a struggle to get through the crowd, but finally, I was facing him for the second time today. Once he sees my legs in front of him, he looks up and gives me a small smile.

”So…how was it?” He awkwardly asks. I give him a smile back.

”You guys are unbelievable. I’m so proud of you, I can’t even put it into words,” I say, the comfort of being near him already back like nothing changed. He visibly relaxes at the sound of my tone and his smile grows bigger at my words.

”That means a lot, especially coming from you. I’m really glad you showed tonight, by the way.”

”I’m glad, too. But to be honest, I’m freaking the fuck out right now.” He changes to a warm smile and turns to sling an arm over my shoulder like he always used to when he wanted to comfort me. 

“Trust me. So is everyone else. And I truly mean it when I say I’m glad you showed. I know we fucked up real bad and made a really bad decision, and I couldn’t be more thankful that you don’t hate us for it.” He said with a soft voice as we finally started walking away from the crowd and towards back stage. 

“I could never hate you guys. I definitely felt something close to it when you all left, but I quickly understood why you all did what you did. But I can’t say I’m not still upset with you three, one more than the others.” He nods like he understands what I mean.

”Well that one may be the most regretful of all of us,” He says as he pauses outside their green room, “Folio hasn’t shut up since we told him we ran into you earlier, so you’re going to need to spend some time with him first, but just give me the word, and we’ll give you and Noah some space to talk.”

I give him a soft smile and nod, and he finally opens the door. Within a second of stepping through, I’m being tackled into a hug by Folio, instantly recognizing his scent as my face gets shoved into his chest.

”I missed you so fucking much, Y/N. Holy shit, I’m so happy to see you.” I hug him back for a few moments before patting his back, needing air to respond. 

I let out a soft laugh as he finally pulls away and looks down at me with an apologetic smile. I watch as his eyes take in my appearance and I catch my breath after he practically squeezed it out of me.

”I missed you, too. So much. And you fucking rocked out there,” I said as I grabbed his shoulder and brough him back into another hug, truly missing them. 

“I really hope you aren’t mad at me. I wanted to keep in contact but I didn’t want to hurt you more. Please don’t hate me,” he whispers in my ear as he holds me tight.

”Like I told Nicky, I could never hate you. I love you guys more than anything and am just happy to finally see you again,” I whisper into his. 

We pull away after a minute of our much needed embrace and I greet Jolly before I’m immediately pulled into Nick’s arms.

”It wasn’t fair I haven’t gotten a real one since I’ve seen you,” he mumbles as he squeezes me tight. I laugh softly but just let myself take in the feeling of peace and comfort I’ve been missing all these years.

These boys were my family and even after not seeing them for so long, the love has yet to die. And to know that they’ve missed me just as much as I’ve missed them is making me emotional again. I really hope I don’t cry just yet. I still had one more boy to get to. I can feel his eyes on me. His presence filling the room and running my nerves rampant. Nick finally pulls away, laughing at something Folio said as my eyes instantly drift to where he sat.

In that moment, I think we both stopped breathing as we just stared at each other for a few seconds. Seeing him so close again brought back so many feelings. Feelings from our time spent together. Feelings of our time apart. The love and the anger. The longing and the resentment. The grief. 

“Y/N…” he practically whispers out as he slowly stands up from his seat and makes his way towards me. 

“Noah..” I croak out, my emotions already collecting in my throat. 

As we finally stand in front of each other, I hear the other boys step out of the room, giving us our space without me even asking for it. I almost want to be mad they left me alone with the man that has haunted my every living moment, but I’m also thankful, not knowing how this is going to go and not wanting to cry in front of anyone but him. 

“I-…How are you?” he softly asks. I just stare at him, letting his voice play in my head after not hearing it for so long. 

“I’m…good,” I finally answer, lying. His eyes trail over my face, already knowing my expressions better than me, and definitely catching my lie. 

“I’m not. I-…Y/N. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” His voice cracks towards the end, and I can feel my eyes starting to well up with tears. 

“Noah. I just…Why?”

”I love you so much, Y/N. I love you so fucking much and I regret everything I’ve done. I thought I was making a good decision at the time, but I’ve regretted it ever since,” he gushes. 

“So you never reach out? You just leave me in the dark for four years? You drop me out of the blue one day, get your life together, and leave me in the dust? All alone? I couldn’t even talk to Nick or Folio!” I can see him grimace as I raise my voice. 

“I thought it was for the better. I thought it was selfish to ask you to join us. I thought that if I…if we left you behind, you wouldn’t feel overshadowed. I knew our focus was going to be put into the music and I couldn’t drag you along just to make you feel unappreciated.” His eyes were now turning red and he was waving his hands, reaching out for me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was about to drop to his knees and beg me for forgiveness. 

“Noah. I’d do anything for you. I still love you. Despite the fact you did me so wrong. But you told me that you loved me and then you went and left me. I just..” I sigh and turn around, moving to sit on the couch, burying my face into my hands as my voice turns into more of a whisper, “Why’d you do this to me? I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. I can’t do much of anything at all… I’ve been so sick since you left.”

He moved to crouch in front of me, trying to look into my eyes. I sniffle and look up at him, desperately needing to see more of his face after so long, even if it’s covered in pain. His hand slowly reaches out, debating on touching me before finally placing it on my knee. 

“I’ve been dying on the inside since we left. I need you, Y/N. I can’t keep doing this without you…I now know how wrong I was.”

”Noah…”

TO BE CONTINUED

[p0orbaby]

some jill roord smut plsss 🤤🤤

i need her as a soft top so bad

-

Jill is between your legs, looking devastatingly pleased with herself. Of course, she is. This is where she is most at ease—both physically and emotionally. This is where she gets to be adored without asking for it, where she gets to pull you apart at her own pace, where she gets to revel in the mess she makes of you. She is in control, but not in a cruel way. Not in the way men are, puffed up with their own self-importance, mistaking luck for skill. Jill’s confidence is quieter. Unshakable. The kind that comes from knowing, beyond all doubt, that she is very, very good at this.

And the worst part? She doesn’t even look proud of herself. Not really. She just looks like she expected this outcome. Like this is the natural consequence of her actions. She is smug, yes, but not surprised. She knew exactly how this would go from the second she pressed her mouth against you, from the moment her hands settled against your thighs, firm and sure, keeping you exactly where she wanted you.

She drags her teeth over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, slow and indulgent, like she’s savouring something expensive. Her lips are soft, almost teasing, the barest hint of pressure before she moves away again, exhaling warm against your skin. You can feel her breath, maddeningly close, but not close enough. It’s deliberate. You know it is. It always is with her.

She pauses, just for a second, just long enough to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand—deliberate, performative, like she’s giving you a moment to collect yourself. Like she wants you to watch.

You do. Of course, you do. Chest rising and falling unevenly, head spinning, struggling to find something—anything—that will make you sound like you’re still in control.

“You’re taking your time,” you manage, though your voice comes out tight, thinner than you’d like.

Jill hums, tilting her head slightly, considering. Then she smiles, small and knowing, fingers flexing against your skin. “Should I not?”

She says it the same way she says everything, like she’s humouring you, like she’s giving you a choice when you both know she isn’t. You hate her for it. You hate her so much.

(You don’t. You’re in love withher. Which is infinitely worse.)

Her mouth finds your thigh again, another slow kiss, another scrape of teeth, sharp enough to make you shiver. But she doesn’t move higher. Doesn’t give you what you need. She just stays there, teasing, waiting, watching, until you feel like you might start shaking apart from the sheer frustration of it.

“Jill—”

She presses a little harder, lips curving against your skin. “You’re so impatient.”

It’s unbearable. She’s unbearable. The way she moves, the way she touches you, the way she makes it seem like she’s taking her time not because she wants to tease you (though she does, obviously, and she’s thriving on it), but because this is a luxury. Because she enjoys this too much to rush it.

Her hands slide higher, fingertips ghosting over your hips, then pressing in, grounding you, keeping you there as she finally—finally—gives you what you want. The noise that leaves your mouth is embarrassing, and Jill—predictably—loves it.

“Thought you wanted me to take my time,” she murmurs, lips brushing against you, voice thick with amusement.

You can’t answer. You can’t do anything but take it, let her pull you apart, let her make you feel so good you forget whatever point you were trying to make in the first place.

She’s so good at this. It’s a problem. It’s always been a problem. The way she never hurries, never breaks rhythm, never seems like she’s doing anything particularly special, and yet somehow still leaves you shaking, clinging to the sheets, unable to think straight.

Jill, of course, is entirely unaffected by your predicament. Smug, but not in a way that needs to be spoken aloud. She just keeps going, lazily, almost idly, like she has all the time in the world. Like she’s going to take you apart piece by piece, keep you teetering on the edge until she decides you’ve earned it.

She always does this. Always stretches it out just long enough to make you desperate, to make you half-crazed with need. You know what she’s doing. You always know what she’s doing.

And you always let her do it.

[probablysimpledreams]

Surprise Valentine (Dabi x reader)

a/n: a little early v-day treat for you cuties<33 I'm still working on a Keigo piece for valentines day so that should be out soon (hopefully) lol I was working on it then went out and when I got home the idea for this fic washed over me so crazily I was like I HAVE to write it ahhh enjoy lovelies <33

wc: 1096

"I don't need a babysitter!" Toga huffed as she skipped down the dimly lit street, refusing to face Dabi who was following close behind. 

"I find that hard to believe," Dabi rolled his eyes. "I'm here for my own reasons, so just shut up and keep walking. We're almost there anyway." Toga stopped in her tracks, a wicked grin spreading across her face as she took in his words. Dabi was joining her to steal Valentine's Day treats and items from the store on his own accord? It could only mean one thing.......

"I knew it! You are in love!" the young girl beamed, completely invading Dabi's personal space as she danced around happily. "Love love love!"

"Ohmygod will you shut up?!" Dabi snapped back, looking down at his feet as he kept walking. He didn't want to admit it but Toga was right, he was in love with you. So much so that he wanted to be the sweet boyfriend who surprises you with cute gifts, despite his claim to dislike this and any other holiday. God love was embarrassing. 

"You didn't deny it," Toga teased, dodging the small flame he threw her way. Dabi just groaned in response, silently begging she'd leave him alone so he could grab what he needed and get out. 

After a few more steps and teasing remarks by Toga, the pair finally made it to the closed shop. Dabi swiftly cuts out any security cameras and locks, allowing the two to enter the shop. The isles were filled with a massive assortment of heart shaped candies, plushies, flowers, and other everyday items in pink or red to make buyers want to grab it. 

Though he wouldn't admit it aloud, Dabi was overwhelmed as he browsed the store. Everything felt so flashy, so forward, so lovey dovey. But none of it felt like him. If he was going to do something for you, he was going to make sure you could see the thought and love behind it. He may not be the most romantic man or the best with words, but he always made sure his actions told you exactly how he felt. Exactly how much he loved you. It had to be perfect. He needed to be the best boyfriend. He needed your love. He needed you to never leave him. He needed- 

"You're overthinking this dummy," Toga's voice snaps Dabi back to reality as she approaches him, hands full of heart shaped chocolates and little plushies. "I know you know what ______ likes, so just pick something and stick with the decision." 

Though it annoyed him, Toga's reassurance eased his thoughts. He took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes before looking at the isles again with a new, refreshed mindset. This time a black cat plushie with a gold heart collar caught his eye. He chuckled as he remembered the countless times you'd say he reminded you of a cat or he had "black cat energy," whatever the hell that meant. As he went to grab it, his eyes began trailing upward and landed on a plushie that happened to be your favorite animal and color. A small smile tugs at his lips as he examines the item, noting it slightly resembled you as well. He decided to grab both plushies, snatching a pack of your favorite snacks before heading out with Toga. 

Once back at the hideout, Toga immediately began showing off her "shopping" haul to the rest of the League. This allowed Dabi to go unnoticed as he snuck out, headed straight to your apartment. He wakes you up by knocking on your window, blue eyes shining as he stares through the glass. 

"I'm begging you to use the front door," you sigh as you open the window, allowing him to climb into your room. You were still trying to catch your breath after he scared you wide awake by arriving here at 2 am without any prior warning.

"Mmm no can do sweetheart, gotta keep you on your toes," he grinned. 

"Why are you even here?" you yawned, urging him to join you on the bed. "Not that I'm complaining or anything, just isn't like you to show up without some kind of heads up. Everything okay?" His heart swelled at your concern. The way you loved him so gently, so purely made his head spin. That feeling only intensified as he remembered why he even came over in the first place. 

"I-uh-I have something for you." His eyebrows furrowed as he mentally scolded himself for sounding so nervous. Your eyes widen with excitement at his words. 

"For me?" you smile, looking at him. You could tell he was nervous which only made you smile grow. God he's so cute.

"Just take it," he grumbles. While it came off coldly, you knew he was just nervous. Everything about his relationship with you was new to him, and that scared him. Because of this you were always patient, and knew his actions showed his true emotions. That's why your jaw almost dropped when he handed you the plushies and snacks. 

"Stopppp is this us as plushies?" you happily asked as you examined the plushies. You already knew the answer though, smiling ear to ear as you hugged the soft and fuzzy items. 

"Thought you'd be into some corny shit like that," he chuckles, nerves slowly dissolving seeing you so happy. He hid his still trembling hands from your line of vision as he pulled you into his side, kissing the top of your head. "Happy Valentine's Day baby." 

"AHHH I love you!! I love you!!!" you cheered, pulling him to lay down on the bed with you. You moved to lay on top of him, covering his face with kisses before nuzzling into his neck. His arms tightened around you as you cuddled against him, smile still painted on your face. "Thank you for my gift." 

He hummed, small smile tugging at his lips as he rubbed your back gently. "Glad you liked it." 

"I have something for you too but," you yawned, "I'll give you it before I head to work in a few hours." Your eyes start falling shut as the warmth from Dabi's body lures you back to sleep. "Mmmmm good night, I love you."

"I love you too baby." Dabi leans down to kiss your lips before adjusting the way you're laying on him so you both could fall asleep comfortably. His arms tighten around you once again, reminding you he's not going anywhere as you both drift off to sleep.

[pixelplayground]

hi, i'm a little embarrassed to say it but nobody likes what i publish. i have more than 2k readers but in the end there are always 2 or 3 who follow me by liking or sharing my posts. i spend time creating interiors or lookbooks that may be liked but in the end it is not so. i would like to ask you for some advice to improve, to understand where i am going wrong if i don't bother you. i like what you publish.

Hello @valerysims,

First don’t feel embarrassed about arbitrary internet numbers. I know the world makes it feel like social media = validation but I promise you that your worth as a person is not tied to numbers on a post. Second, I checked out your blog and think you have a good number of likes to follower ratio! I have a little over 40K followers, and as you can see I get a fraction of that amount in likes per post on average. (I’ve also been around literally for a decade so please don’t burden yourself with comparisons, many of those followers came to me when I was posting sims 3 downloads, and when I was very active in the 2017-2019 period. Many of those people are now inactive/left the sims so it’s meaningless).

As far as content, I would recommend that you play this game for you and try to think less about what others want to see or what’s trending or will get likes. I hate so much how even simblr has been infected by the influencer mindset. I wish the community would go back to remembering we’re nerds playing virtual doll houses and would celebrate non-conformity more. I know it’s hard to resist, but I think people can sense when you are passionate about what you’re making/posting versus trying to create content that keeps up with the trends.

Back when I started doing coastal in 2017, I did it because I adore the architecture style, and it was around the time that Cats & Dogs was released so we now had the perfect world setting to compliment and exploration of this style. I wasn’t thinking about making it a trend, I always build and decorate for me and what I want to see in my game, and back then it wasn’t that popular. I had a phase of being really interested in modern farmhouses/low country builds and spent time doing that — they don’t resonate with me the way they did so I moved on and that’s ok. You don’t have to do anything that no longer interests you. Along the way people followed me because I guess they liked it, but a common sentiment I receive from followers is that they can see how much time and love I put into my builds, and I think that’s what resonated most to find an audience as it were.

It's the same with CC creation, I never learned how to make CC because I want lots of followers, monetization, or exposure. I had to learn to make the items I could not find back in the day, and now that style is trending, so I don't have to create so much to fill gaps and execute builds the way that I like.

Find joy in the act of playing the game, posting pics etc. whatever it is that you love most about the game, and you may find a niche there. Don’t pressure yourself to have to post X times per week if you’re not feeling it. Work on finding out what you’re passionate about and share that passion with your followers — usually the audience will follow you from there.

Also, I open this post to others to share their input. Some people I think are killer social media marketers, and I've never felt like I have that skillset. I feel like I gained a following accidentally rather than setting out with that goal in mind.

[kakao-lovey]

ꨄ︎ Single on Valentine's: ideas to inspire some self-love

We all have that person in our class or friend group that is seemingly always in love. It is easy to compare yourself and feel 'Not good enough' for a partner, 'Antisocial' (In this context, Asocial), or that you're 'Going to be alone forever'. I've got news: those people who are constantly in and out of relationships are rarely happy, because they need a romantic partner for validation. They have problems loving themselves, so they need someone else to do it for them. So, whether you're aromantic, newly single or have never even had a proper relationship -- you will NOT spend this Valentine's Day crying. Not on my watch.

-------- ₊˚⊹౨ৎ ₊˚⊹ --------

ꨄ The importance of self-love, and how to attain it

The only person you can spend your whole life with is YOU. The only person who will always be with you is YOU. If you want to actually be happy in life (As opposed to constantly seeking validation from others to be happy), you need to make amends and grow a healthy relationship with yourself. Now, that's all great and good in theory, but you have likely heard this a million times and still don't know how to actually go about it. You can take real-life steps to begin to love yourself, and all you need to start is ask this question: How would I treat the person I love most in this world?

ꨄ︎ Ideas for your best Valentine's Day yet

Firstly, if you're scared to go into public on your own on the 14th, thinking you'll be judged: do it. Have the audacity. Do what everyone else is too embarrassed to do. Think of it as practicing your confidence, taking steps to have a less insecure mindset.

Writing letters to your past, present and future self: tell nine-year-old you that it's going to be alright. Write to them to say that whatever happened is not their fault. Or tell future you that you're proud of them no matter what, because if they're reading it, they're still standing.

Love language of physical touch: yes, there are ways to speak this language with yourself! A lot of us can relate to the experience of rubbing our feet together like crickets when we're comfy. So get yourself your favourite blanket and curl up in bed with some music.

Affirmations: they work. Write some down in a notebook, decorate the page with stickers, or listen to an affirmation audio from YouTube. If you have the confidence, you can even say them out loud.

Getting yourself gifts: your favourite flowers, a snack you really enjoy, a video game, a skincare product, literally anything. Great thing is, you know yourself better than anyone, so your gifts will almost always be well received.

A self-portrait: get creative. Choose your favourite art medium, whether it be oil pastels, watercolour or even photography. It's a good exercise to appreciate the little details of your body, and how it works together to create a living being.

Speaking of your body, take care of it. It may not instantly make you feel better, but lifestyle choices like diet and exercise make a massive impact on your mental health in the long run. So eat those whole foods, drink your water and do some light exercise like yoga or going on a walk.

-------- ₊˚⊹౨ৎ ₊˚⊹ --------

No relationship is perfect, and it doesn't have to be! You're allowed to be angry or frustrated with yourself, but a lot of what I've experienced is just needless hatred, and we need to fix that. That's all! Bye, Lovies!

[k0k0-library]

MDNI: I lost my Love. Can I have yours, Comrade?

Pairing: Tartaglia x F! Reader

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Rating: 18+

Warnings: menntions of soft sex, cuteness overload from our good red fox, cunnilingus or however the fuck you write it as, slight breeding king, but not really, harbinger on the loose being a simp, mention of y/n because I was never over my ao3 erra, minor character death

You are the traveller in this one, you're a womam, deal with it

It was a sunny summer morning in Lyiue. You woke up from a restless slumber, as Paimon was already complaining about the heat. "Paimon didn't remember the Harbour being this steamy last time we were here." You giggled slightly, putting on your skirt over your undergarments; the little fae was right. Liyue really did get more hot than the last time you were here for your adventure with the Carp Adeptus. But that is a story for another time, my dear. The sun was shining brighter than usually, the incoming warmth, or rather heat, was making itself felt from morning. This was going to be a long day, wasn’t it, traveler?

The two of you went outside, still groggy after a not-so-good night's sleep and made your way to Wangming Restaurant to see if you could buy something for 200 mora. In the weird economy of the land of the geo archon, you could never know what 200 mora might get you: a fried egg or an entire old-style house. Stay tuned to find out! The economy in this nation was horrible, truly. Imagine not knowing how much something will cost the next day or how much inflation and deflation will last; horror, pure and utter horror.

As Paimon's mouth salivated over the fresh fruit salad and cremmy tea puffs, your stomach was crying and your wallet was embarrassed to even show face to other people. "300 mora for a fish cutlet?! This is obscene!" You hear some cummon passerby say intrigued. Obscene indeed. Paimon was tugging at your hand like a child begging you to get something good to eat. You didn't had the heart to tell her the both of you were broker than Zhongli. Ah, how much you wanted to go back to those simpler times, when people didn’t knew you and you and Paimon would sleep under the stars, eating sunsetias and skewers, and didn’t had so many things on your mind, didn’t know the dark secrets of Teyvat.

You heard an all too well known whistle, you didn't even had to turn aroud to confirm your suspicions on who it was. "Oh? What do my favourite ladies want to eat this morning?" Tartaglia, Childe, Ajax, 11th of the Fatui Harbingers (regardless of the free spots in the mafia), and all time pretty boy was back in Lyiue. Sometimes, you felt like he was following you around, but you couldn't really say he followed you in Natalan from what you know. And he wasn’t in Monstadt… but Liyue, Inazuma, Fontaine were on his checklist, and you could only guess that he also was spying on you in Sumeru through Dottore’s eyes.

"Childe!" Paimon chanted in a sing-song voice, excited to be telling him all about your travels since you parted ways in Fontain's Court Room. He gave you his wallet and gave you the heads up to order whatever you wanted as he took your companion to one of the tables. After ordering and grabbing the plates, you went to them.

You nodded slowly and sat down. You still had his vision, who was stupid enough to ever lose, missplace or sell a vision. Not you, not ever. You told him you left it at your room at the Harbour with your blade and Paimons plushie. "A plushie-" "Mavuika gifted her a plushie to make the parting better." He sighed deeply, it was clear that the whole shabam with Natalan was not a good thing for him. After all, his idol, his master and maybe friend has lost his life to the Kingdom of Night, forever condemned to forever guard the Throne of Flames.

"So? What brings you back here?"

"I could ask you the same thing, girlie. Still got my vision on you by any chance?"

While you and Paimon ate confused he told you everything that he knew. Aparently, the God of Love was growing more weary of the harbingers and was afraid that if she allowed the strong ones to continue on, they will riot against her. So she was sending them off to suicide missions like she did with La Signora, drove them to insanity like she did with the Wondered (you thought), and now cursed Capitano and forced his soul into the Night Knigdom to guide the lost souls. But souls will forever get lost there. It was like the problem imposed by Oroboros, an all powerful snake. Childe didn’t knew more than he already told you.

"So, you met Capitano... I believe you were surprised of what happened?"

"Why?"

"Because the Tsaritsa wanted him dead for a long while"

The God of Love and Compassion loosing herself to doubt and hunger for power was something inimaginable at first, but you remembered Venti’s and Zhongli’s words, as well as Mona’s. The ones that love the most will one day turn as cold as ice and will start to hurt not only others but themselves also… In other words, the Tsaritsa was destined to go mad with fear and hate. Her people, her believers… were they going to be ok?

"So, you see... since the Tsaritsa sees me as powerful, I have to hide back in Lyiue again. Here, the Fatui can't reach me easily since the area was cleared long ago by you." He slowly sipped from his tea cup. He tried not to show it, but he was scared that death was waiting at his doorstep at home. Or maybe he would die with honour, but he could never make his family mourn or suffer from the loss of his life. Yes, this seemed more like it, the ginger man was always thinking of his family before anything else.

"So this means that you are now stuck here? For eternity?" Paimon inquiered with her mouth stuffed with sweet red bean paste buns. Childe nodded. "Well, not really eternity. I'm still just a man, you know? I'll live maybe to 60 or 70 years considering how many wounds I have had all these years... One of my hands already started to get too stiff, you know?" He emphasised his words by trying to flex his left fist, but his hand moved hardly, his palm convulsing for a second before allowing him to close his fist.

You wanted to reach out and hold his hand, to reassure him to comfort him in a way. To loose something as simple as free mobility in a hand from this age was hurtful to watch, let alone actually experiencing it. Tartaglia was a strong man, hiding his emotions and feelings from everyone around him. Yeah… definitely he didn’t want to put pressure or concern his family. You wondered what lie he told his parents and his little siblings for them to not even question his sudden return to the land of the Geo Archon.

___________

After you ate and talked some more, Paimon decided to go back to the room you two had near the harbour and take a small nap. She was teribly tired after the long walk from Natalan to Lyiue; and to be entirely honest, you were as well. But of course, you chose to spend some time with the redhair instead, not knowing when exactly you'd see him next. He was like a wild fox, fast and cunning, always hiding himself in the shadows until he'll strike again and capture the mouse or hen he wishes to eat. But was he going to be able to hunt again like the predator he was raised as? Was Tartaglia going to be ok laying low under the radar?

Was the Tsaritsa really this heartless? To kill her most precious soldiers?

It seemed horrible. Absolutely horibble! But it was the cruel truth: from the predator, Childe became the pray in a matter of days, weeks, heck even months! But, the archon did seem insane enough to have considered this form the beginning, planing the intricate deaths of all her dear harbingers. Why else would she let them fail almost all missions… and, in first instances, Signora and Childe were the only ones who retrieved the gnosises without too much trouble. You were the trouble, in a way, but much more weaker and inexperienced than now. Were you the reason why everything was happening? Why people died?

The sun was shining brightly, and it was humid outside, the heat even more unbearable as you walked with the harbinger near the Quingxu Pool. He invited you to take a stroll around the Lisha, but found yourselves walking for a couple of hours now. "Y/N, I... I was going to ask you if you're any closer to finding your brother? I know how much family means to you. " Ah, he read you like an open book. "Well, to be honest, we did meed a couple of times and we talked. I even have a picture with him but i don't remember ever taking it..."

That was curious really. Not remembering a fond memory with your lost twin, yet remembering everything you and Childe did together. It seemed like you were a traitor. He didn't judge you though. He held your hand and lead you to the pool, trying to pull you in. He climbed up the trees and got fresh sunsetias for you. He even collected some nice and shiny pebbles from the deeper ends of the Pool just so he could give them to you. "The lake isn't even that deep, girlie. You just have to get in! It's more fun-" He tried to reason with you, but you still refused him, vehemently. Not after seeing Ferminet almost loose himself in the Primordial waters.

And so you followed him. The water almost instantly got colder, giving you goosebumps as soon as it hit your skin. You shivered slightly, feeling the sand slip loose from under your feet, you had to rely now simply on yourself to stay afloat. Now, when did Childe get soo good at swimming? You didn't remember him being so good? Or maybe his little predicament with the All Devouring Narwhal changed him more than you thought. The water was like an ice bucket, the complete opposite of the weather outside. If you were going to get sick from this, you’d kill him.

"A traveller afraid of a little challange?"

"Wll, you didn't challange me, Mr.~"

"Fine, then I challange you to swim with me in the deeper ends" Now, a traveller not accepting a challenge was like a watch not telling you the time… And so,…

You finally were almost next to him, the redhead inviting you to dive in with a smile. You took in a large breath and dove underwater. Your head, dried and overheated by the sun, met with the cold, refreshing gust of waters that got in between your locks. You wanted to shriek from the sudden change in temperature, but you couldn’t, not right now anyways. You felt a hand gently wrapping around your upper arm, and tugging at it, like telling you to follow it. Childe, the ever-so-gentleman that he was, allowed you to hook around him as the two of you dove deeper and further into the water. At this rate you were going to drown! You needed air at some point and you were anxious about getting out in time for it! You squirmed in protest, as you saw he wasn’t even thinking about the obvious like you did. He held you closer to himself, your head pressed to his chest allowing you to feel the steady and slow rhythm of his heartbeat to calm down. You felt the water pressure getting lighter and lighter.

You realised he brought you to the surface only when the sun mercilessly burned the top of your head and you opened your eyes reluctantly. You laid on top of the ginger harbinger as he floated, smiling up at the sky. “Scared ya? Don’t worry, milyy. I’d never let you drown, get pierced my a hilichurl’s arrow or shredded by the claws of a saurus.” You really didn’t want him to notice the blush dusted darkly on your face, but you were sure he did notice it. Even someone as oblivious to love as paimon would. His words were more than a comfort told to cool the waters (pun intended); he actually meant everything he told you, which warmed your heart more than the heatwave was already doing it.

“You’re staring, girlie…”

“And are you complaining, Mr. Tortellini?”

Not even 2 seconds after you called him that, he twisted his body to the side, making you fall in the water unexpectedly as he laughed like a hiena at your futile attempt to bring him down with you. You both held each other in a kind of far embrace and laughed at the absurdity of it all, life being so hard, yet the two of you playing in the water like two kids that did not yet learned about the cruelty of the world and how vile some people could be. You were two kids playing, two kids having fun and two kids falling in love with one another… Falling in love, in this economy?! (Sorry I had to make the joke), but no really, falling in love in this situation, with him of all people could lead to only pain. Will it be more painful to never tell him, or to live with loving him only for him to die so easily so suddenly…

You were conflicted, deep down, your mind not fully allowing you to feel happy about this moment with Childe. How about a brain factory reset, traveler? Only 2 trillion mora, only for you. Buy one get one for free-

“Y/N, you look so pretty with your hair all wet like that, you know? The prettiest girl ever, my milyy” The harbinger suddenly said as he places a butterfly kiss on your cheek, his hands slowly going further up your arms, now grasping your shoulders lightly. You knew that part of this gentleness of his was due to the join pain he felt… You felt bad for him, feeling the need to hold him even tighter and tell him you loved him more than anything. But will you? Risking everything, your friendship and your memories with him only because you were selfish and you wanted him to offer more of his heart than he already had? It was a horrible thing to do: confessing to another human. Horrible, but more than that horrifying. What if he didn’t just said no, but felt so disgusted and used by you that he would tell you to go fuck your self, stay away from him for 100, no 1000 years in this and the next lives that will come.

“Aren’t you going to tell me anything, girlie? You’ve been staring at that poor calla lily for the past 10 minutes…” And answer, he wanted an answer from you. But to what question.

“I don’t think I can tell you.

“Then I’ll wait for that answer: 100, no…. One thousand years I’ll wait for your answer in this and the next lives to come.” His grasp on your shoulders was more powerful and meaningful, he wanted you -- he needed you to answer him and to tell him you felt the same, didn’t he?

You just smiled and sighed with a slight shake of your head. This man will be the death of you, that was for sure. Either from his cuteness, from his devotion to you or from a brutal future spar. Though, you did help the later doesn't happen ever again. You still had bad dreams about what happened at the Golden House.

All this time, all this mother fucking time that you two had spent together in an awkward-ish way that mutual pining people do; he belived you two were a couple. Genuinely belived you were a thing?! Sir how dare you not be more obvious for this sweet little traveler. A big part of you was reliefed he felt the same, but there was a tiny part that was confused. You never gave him signals that you even liked him romantically, yet he believed you two were together. The 11th Fatui Harbinger was a very stange man, a cold and unforgiving person, yet he protects his family and loves them all with his very being. And now you learn he loves you; maybe just as much.

"I think I am in love with you, Childe..."

"Of course you are, we're together-"

"What?"

Childe gently cupped your cheeks in his hands and slowly pulled you in for a kiss. You didn't fight it, not one bit as you let yourself go soft in his arms. Not a thought between your eyes as his rough, yet warm lips glide against yours in a slow dragged out way. It felt good, having him here like this with you in the water. "You cannot believe how much I've wanted to kiss you, milah, but you always act so cold.."

You didn't know how and you didn't know when; but the red haired man brought you both back to the lake shore. You were still drunken by the kiss, as the lack of cold water around you made you instantly warm up to un uncomfortable level. You gently pushed him away to take a deep breath in and calm your senses. Or rather tried to come back to your senses, but you were drunk. You were so drunken by this man.

Well, how can anyone not let a cute fox like him take a bite when he asks so politely?

"Childe-"

"Please let me love you, Y/N~"

______________

When you've gone back to your place by the harbour it was already late at night and you found Paimon waiting for you by the porch, with a cup of chilled tea and a few sweets. She looked like she waited for you for quite a bit. The still partially wet hair, dusted cheeks and crampled damp clothes were signs that something did happen between you and the Harbinger. But Paimon was never one to ask you something like this, and definitely she wasn't judging; she was just worried you came home late.

"I promise I'll come back before sundown next time-" You half-appologised like a pre-teen girl caught out with her boyfriend. And what a boyfriend you now had: one that knows how to make your mind foggy with pleasure as he laps at your folds, one that gently kisses you as he puts it in the first time and caresses your cheek as you let out soft sobs or when he spils deeply into you.

Tartaglia was a rough man that used to fight tooth to tooth with anyone who dared to even look at him the wrong way. He was never the type of man to show affection to anyone, his family members were the only ones he used to care about and protect. But now he has you, now that changed forever. Or at least... you hoped that it will last forever.

[allertonhoe]

A2 + A5 with rafe please, a bit of angst then fluff at the end !!! also congratulations on 500 !!

thank you!!! hope you enjoy ☺️☺️ really had fun writing this one!!!

prompts: "Please don’t cry. I can’t stand to see you cry" + "Well. Yell, scream, say something. Anything"

content warnings: 18+ MDNI, original afab!reader, men being men/being gross about women,

500 follower celebration!

It was humiliating to say the least. You knew that being Rafe Cameron's girlfriend wasn't always the easiest task. There were expectations of you, one of them being that you had to accompany him to fancy Kook soirées. But tonight, you'd gotten pushed too far.

"Come on," he complained, banging against the locked guest room door. "Please just talk to me. I know I fucked up."

It hadn't been anything out of the ordinary, another obligatory appearance among Figure 8's upper echelon since he was now running Cameron Development. Hanging off Rafe's arm with a cordial smile as he faked his way through small talk with important clients and investors.

At one point, the two of you split off from each other. Being wrangled by one of the other trophy girlfriends to gossip over drinks and 'leave the men to their business,' whatever that meant—something you'd learn very soon. Eventually excusing yourself to the bathroom, you became distracted as you strolled past the billiards room and noticed it was buzzing in conversation.

"Is she that good, Cameron?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you only keep a girl like that around for one reason."

Your jaw dropped at the sexist declaration, especially when you knew there was a good chance this person had probably acted the complete opposite less towards you than an hour ago when Rafe was by your side. It's not that you were ignorant to that type of behavior in these settings, you'd just never heard it so explicitly. 

This was part of why you loved Rafe, though. He was headstrong and fiercely protective of the things that were important to him, which included you. He had a reputation for having a dangerously short fuse, a trait you were appreciative of in this moment. But that wasn't the response you heard at all.

"Seriously, dude? You should brag about your girl more. The stories I've heard-"

"Shut up, Topper."

"No, no. I mean it as, like, a good thing. Those two have the freakiest sex. The stories I've heard. Tell them about that thing she can do when she puts her legs over her-"

"Damn, Rafe. And you aren't sharing any of the dirty details with the rest of us? That's cold, man..."

"My girl's just amazing; what can I say?"

"Enjoy that while it lasts. I wish my wife was still eager and willing like that. Didn't talk back yet, just did whatever I told her because she wanted to keep me around. Made sure I was taken care of like your girl still does, if you know what I mean."

The group of businessmen laughed boisterously as they proceeded with their banter, while your supposed knight-in-shining-armour stood along with them. Actually clinking his glass with the man's who made that comment, not even attempting to clear your name.

Your mind raced as you helplessly watched the scene unfold in front of you. Usually the two of you were on the same page, but right now you could barely recognized your boyfriend. Why didn't he confront them at all? Was he embarrassed over you? 

Your clutch fell from your hand, making your presence known as it hit the ground. Not daring to shift your regard back to the room full of local moguls, their conversation stilling there. Rushing to pick it up and return to the group of naive women you were seemingly better off with, but hearing a familiar set of footsteps follow behind you.

At first, Rafe tried explaining himself a few times. So you stubbornly shut him out and did what you apparently did best—blindly follow his lead like a doting puppy. Getting knowing looks from the same snobby men he’d just been chatting with as he quickly decided it was time to make his exit, your rage not going unnoticed.

Your silence prevailed throughout the car ride home despite his continued attempts to apologize, not sparing him a glance as you stormed into the house and up to one of the guest bedrooms. Locking the door behind you as the disparaging remarks swirled through your brain.

"Baby, let me in," he reiterates desperately.

He kept pounding on the door and you kept ignoring him, not in any mood to spend the rest of the evening rehashing your unsettled conflict. Becoming startled when it suddenly stopped after a few minutes, the quiet only worrying you knowing your boyfriend's unpredictable temper.

And then, in his irrational fashion, the thick wood broke off its hinges like it was no big deal. Barreling into the formerly tranquil room, brushing a hand through his hair dramatically as he caught his breath. Feeling a little resentful that he decided to channel his frustration into that outrageous display instead of actually backing you up earlier. 

"Are you fucking serious?" You grill him, not hiding how unimpressed you were.

"What?" He counters, glancing at the wreckage and waving it off. "Don't worry about that."

You just rolled your eyes, diverting your attention from him as resentment crept back up on you. A tear rolling down your cheek as you remembered why you were in here, avoiding him, in the first place. Rafe kneeling down to bring himself to your level, his thumb wiping it off your skin. 

"Please don't cry. I can't stand to see you cry." He whispered hoarsely. "I'm sorry. You know how the guys can be..."

"It's not that, Rafe. You didn't come to my defense at all when they were all objectifying me. I thought I meant more to you than that..." You detail with disappointment. "I'm just... I'm tired. It's been a long night. I'm gonna sleep in here, or one of the rooms that has a door attached."

"No, baby. Let me make it up to you," he contends further.

Not having any more energy to keep scolding him, you slipped under the covers and got as comfortable as you were able to without changing out of your cocktail dress or taking off your makeup. Feeling a dip at the bottom of the mattress, Rafe reaching out and caressing the shape of your silhouette.

"Yell, scream, say something..." he begs weakly, his voice breaking and barely a whisper as he finished his plea. "Anything..."

He crawled across the bed, lying behind you and placing his arms over your torso. Pulling you as close as he was able to with the comforter still separating your bodies. Shutting your eyes momentarily as you basked in the calm you'd been craving all night.

"I'm so sorry, baby... I should've told them to knock it off, but it's complicated with these guys. They're some of my dad's oldest clients. I can't just lose my shit on them, as much as I might want to." He justifies to you. "Please... I'll let you do whatever you want..."

As he waited for your answer, he moved your hair off the back of your neck and started pecking across the flesh. Pressing delicate, wanton kisses before stopping at your shoulder and resting his chin there, leaving one last chaste peck on your cheek. Trying your absolute best not to give in to his persuasive tactics. 

"Whatever I want?" you echo, catching his grin reappear as your discomfort faded.

"Anything," he coos, prompting you to turn over to face him properly.

"You're definitely gonna regret that," you threaten playfully. 

"Yeah?" he mutters, squeezing your waist possessively.

"Mhmm..." You hum, capturing his lips with yours. Rafe tangling his tongue with your own as he took over control and spent the rest of the evening helping you forget about the disastrous gala.