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blitzyn · 1 year ago

Text

stop moving

re4r leon s. kennedy x m!reader

request: none

synopsis: After finding yourself stuck in a closet with Leon, you end up squirming just a little too much.

a/n -> i have fallen victim to the leon lover rabbit hole. ALSO. I FUCKING FRACTURED MY FINGER??? guys i almost cried when i had to write the word balls. </3 but thank you all for 1k followers! tbh i only started this acc because i liked the font when i wrote something in my drafts lmao. but still! it means a lot to me and im happy to have gotten this far!

wc -> 2.5k

cw -> thigh fucking, hiding in a closet, spit as lube, handjob (r receiving), pet names (baby x2, sweetheart x1), he's kinda possessive tbh, not beta read

This was supposed to be relatively simple: get in, figure out where the president's daughter was, save her, then get out. Sure, you've seen your fair share of weird shit — especially after the outbreak in Raccoon City, but finding out that there was a whole religion dedicated to spreading a plague for the sake of taking over the world definitely takes the cake. For now, at least.

But finding yourself cramped in a closet with Leon, surrounded by a horde of hostile cultists, also wasn't something you expected to happen throughout the entire mission.

"Stop moving so much," Leon quietly muttered from behind you just as you shifted.

"I'm not," you huffed, a bit annoyed that you had to hide in this stuffy closet, even if you knew that you'd probably be dead by now if it weren't for your partner's quick thinking. Against his words, you adjusted yourself again, trying to find a decently comfortable position. Suddenly, you felt his hands on your hips and the warmth of his chest pressed to your back as he pulled you flush against him.

"I said, stop moving," he repeated, whispering in your ear. You held back a shudder at the feeling of his breath ghosting over the shell of it, stilling completely in surprise. Just then, thunderous footsteps could be heard outside the closet; slowly, listening for any sound that might reveal where the two of you hid.

You tensed and instinctively backed up to further yourself from the perpetrator, even if there wasn't much room to move to begin with. You could faintly hear Leon grunt from behind you, but you were in no position to apologize at the moment. Your eyes were glued to a crack in the old, wooden door, watching as the light shifted when the person passed by.

You waited with bated breath, hoping that it wouldn't come near. But, like some cliche horror movie, you could see the light at the bottom of the door disappear, meaning it was far too close for comfort. With every second the person stood there, the tighter Leon's hold on your hips became. The two of you went so silent your ears rang, and you were briefly afraid that it'd hear the sound of your racing heartbeat.

But after what felt like an eternity, its heavy footsteps started up again and away from the closet. You heaved a sigh of relief when the front door slammed shut, rendering the building empty once more.

"Fucking hell, sorry," you mumbled, trying to shuffle forward and give Leon his space when you realized that he hadn't let go of you yet. "You okay?"

Using the dim light that filtered through the cracks in the door, you lifted your arms a bit and curiously peered at his hands. But that's when you noticed the black lines covering his arms. Upon closer inspection, you quickly realized that they were his veins.

"Christ, Leon, what—"

"Be quiet. Just—just for a second."

You found it hard to tear your eyes away from his arms, waiting in silence. You focused on the sound of his labored breaths, biting your tongue to keep yourself from questioning him even further. Your mind couldn't help the invasion of 'What happened?' and 'What is that?' that threatened to spill from your lips. How did you not notice this earlier?!

You were pulled from your thoughts when you felt him rest his forehead on your shoulder, muttering and grunting under his breath. And that's when you felt it — the reason why he was so reluctant to move just yet: he was hard.

"Oh." You couldn't help it, even if he had already told you to shut your mouth twice already. The silence from then on was painfully awkward as the two of you tried to figure out what to say. With a deep breath, you miraculously found the courage to speak up.

"Do you... Can I help you?" You offered, remaining still to keep yourself from accidentally pressing yourself up against him again. It was silent while you waited for his reply, embarrassment wriggling its way through your chest the longer the two of you kept quiet.

"I mean, you don't have to accept, you can just ignore me—" you began to ramble on, mortified that you even asked the question. "I just thought, cause, like, it'll be hard for you to—shit, I didn't mean it like that—"

"[Name]," Leon interrupted you, finding your instant silence charming in its own way. You could hear him take a deep breath in just as his hands slid further up to firmly caress your waist and abdomen. Electricity shot down your spine and pooled in your gut when he tugged you closer to him, grinding himself against your ass. "You can."

He reached for your hand and brought it behind you, placing it directly onto his cock. You gave it a tentative squeeze, savoring the quiet grunt that came from him, feeling your confidence grow by the second. You heard the gentle jingling of his belt as he undid it just enough for you to dip your hand underneath the waistband of his pants and boxers.

"Not wasting a second, huh?" Amusement and lust were laced in his voice as he spoke, a quiet moan spilling from his lips soon after.

He was hot and thick in your hand, throbbing rhythmically. You swiped a finger over the tip that beaded precum, savoring the shudder that came from his body. His hips trusted up into your fist, seeking more, and you were more than happy to oblige.

With a steady pace, you moved your hand up and down, tracing the prominent veins. You felt your own cock twitch at the sound of Leon's breathy groans and sighs, but you ignored it in favor of getting him off.

"Fuuckk," he drawled out, leaning forward to press his lips on the side of your neck. "You're good at this. Makes me think you've done this typa thing before."

"No," you responded, gently rubbing the spot on the underside of the tip. "You're the only one."

"I get the special treatment?" He muttered teasingly, his breath hot against your skin. "Must be my lucky day."

He could feel his body buzzing with adrenaline as he peppered open-mouthed kisses on the side of your neck, untucking your shirt to slide a hand up your torso to pinch and toy with a nipple. His free hand traveled lower, slipping his cold fingertips underneath the waistband of your pants, but refused to go further than that.

You could feel his lips curl in a subtle smirk, but even as you realized he was teasing you, testing your patience, you had no intention to retaliate. Christ. The hold this man had on you. It was downright pathetic.

"God," he started, pressing his palm flat on your chest to bring you closer to him—eager for more of your touch. He let his teeth gently scrape against your skin, threatening to bite—to mark you, but he forced himself not to. He couldn't. Not right now. "I want to fuck you so bad."

His words were breathless, borderline desperate, as they left his lips. He couldn't help but thrust his hips up into your fist, pushing and pushing until your hand was flush against your ass, keeping you from jerking him off as he rutted against your hand.

"We can't, Leon," you muttered, disappointment lacing your voice. As much as you'd love to have him inside you, fucking you deep, you knew you couldn't. Not when the Ganados were still outside, at least. "Just let me finish you off."

Leon let out a low growl, knowing that you were right. There were a lot of things the two of you couldn't do inside the confined space of the closet, forcing him to conjure up ideas of what he wanted to do when all of this was over.

But for now, he settled on the second best option: your thighs.

"I know," he murmured, breathing in deeply as he pulled your hand away from his throbbing cock. "Then let me fuck your thighs. I'll be quick, I promise."

You mulled over his words, unsure if it would be a good idea.

"Please, baby," he pleaded, his voice heavy with lust. "Just this once. Then, when we find Ashley and get the hell outta this place, I'll make sure to fuck you properly. Nice 'n hard 'n deep. Wouldn't you like that?"

Fuck it.

"Mhm, yeah, go ahead." You relented, knees weakening at the thought of having his thick cock inside you, stretching and filling you up perfectly.

"Atta boy," he buried his thumbs underneath your pants and boxers, pulling them down to let them drop to your ankles. "Knew you'd come around."

He groaned at the sight of your bare thighs and drooling cock, running his hands along the curve of your ass to lean back and spread it, focusing his gaze on your asshole. "Fuck," he hissed. "Can't wait to feel your tight little hole around me later. Gonna fill you up with my cum, make you mine."

Arousal sank in your stomach like a rock as your hole clenched around nothing. Whatever's coursing through his veins made him more impulsive, more desperate, but with the fog that clouded your thoughts, you hardly found it in you to mind.

He spat on his cock and moved a hand away from your body to briefly jerk himself off and smear the saliva around.

"Open up, baby," he instructed as soon as he was done, raising his hand to caress your hip. "Spread your legs a little."

Like a trained puppy, you obeyed, widening your thighs just enough to let him guide his hard cock in between them. Your breath hitched at the sight of the head peeking out, squeezing your legs around him just a bit tighter.

"Jesus fuck, [Name]," he groaned, leaning forward to press his chest against your back. He wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close to him. Through the hazy mess that was in your mind, you found comfort in the warmth and firmness of them as you placed your hands on his forearms for some sort of stability. "That's it. Squeeze me just like that."

You could feel every twitch and throb, and you were sure he could feel yours, too. It felt like your senses were on overdrive as you listened to your labored breaths, his pleased sighs and grunts, and the slick sounds of his cock sliding in and out of your thighs. He set a leisurely pace, rocking his hips back and forth.

"Shit..." He hissed, speeding up his thrusts as his dick rubbed against your balls, smearing his makeshift lube across your skin.

His hips met yours with quiet slaps, making sure to keep the noise level at a minimum despite the overwhelming urge to just bury himself inside you right then and there. He mouthed at the nape of your neck, tasting the salt of your skin, gently pressing his teeth down hard enough to send sparks down your spine.

His fingertips pressed into your sides so firmly it hurt, but it only served to mix in with the desire that burned brightly in your belly. He fucked your thighs with a sense of urgency, as if trying to satiate a hunger deep within his subconscious—not that you minded.

He grunted and groaned with every thrust, tightening his arms around your waist to tug you back to him whenever your hips jolted forward. It was intoxicating; the way he so effortlessly turned your body into a sensitive mess left you wanting more.

But as soon as a strong hand wrapped around your aching cock, you nearly came on the spot. One of your hands left Leon's forearm to slap it over your mouth as you tried to keep yourself from moaning too loud.

He breathily chuckled beside your ear. "Is this what you wanted?" He rhetorically questioned, swiping a finger over the leaking head so perfectly it left your skin tingling. "Tell me, sweetheart."

"Ohh, fuck," you hissed. It was embarrassing how you so eagerly responded to his touch. "Yeah, th-that's it...!"

Your eyes fluttered shut, focusing on the feeling of his slick cock moving in and out from between your thighs. Your lips parted from behind your hand to let out quiet pants and moans, digging your nails into his forearm the closer you got to your orgasm.

"Oh god, Leon—!" You moaned, pressing yourself further against his back. You could feel your legs faltering, but he didn't seem to mind having you rely on him to stand up.

"I know, baby, I know," he muttered, his voice tight and strained as his thrusts gradually grew sloppy and weak. "Me too."

His cock pulsed and twitched, and he can't help himself from clamping his teeth over the side of your neck this time. It wasn't hard enough to draw blood, but it left a noticeable bite mark that dully ached.

"Come on, baby, cum for me," he instructed, and you had no choice but to comply.

With a muffled moan, you arched your back and finally came as ropes of your semen coated the dusty wooden floor and Leon's fingers. He stroked you until he was sure that you were spent before letting go to chase after his own release.

"Shit," he cursed, breathing heavily. "I'm gonna cum so... so fucking hard...!"

With a strained groan, his hips jerked erratically as he came, holding you tight enough to leave bruises. You gently rub your thighs together, helping him ride out his high. It wasn't until a few moments later did he finally stop, breathing hard against your neck as he calmed down. But that's also when the clarity kicked in.

"Oh, fuck," he muttered, moving his head from you. "I'm sorry, I don't know what happened—I just—" he apologized, sighing in defeat a moment later.

"It's fine," you replied, patting his arm. You had to suppress a shudder when he pulled away from your thighs. The cum that ended up on the insides of them quickly cooled, leaving an uncomfortable sensation on your skin. You were just gonna have to suck it up.

"Let's just get outta here, already." You shuffled forward a bit to tug your pants back up your legs while Leon composed himself.

"Yeah," he said, pressing an arm against the dusty, wooden door. Through the dim light, you could see that his veins were no longer visible again, but that thought was going to have to hold off until later. "You ready?"

"Yup." You nodded after briefly making sure you still had everything in place.

Without further thought about what happened just a few seconds ago, Leon pushed the door open and quickly left the closet as you trailed close behind. Now, it was back to work.

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sturnsdarling · 2 months ago

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teenage dirtbags, introduction

Skater!Matt needs help with his essay, and Overachiever!reader is the smartest girl on campus

vibe check: enemies(?) to lovers au, childhood acquaintances, no warnings this is just a blurb to set up the vibes.

1k words

A/N: This is just the intro to what I plan on being at least a five part series. I don't ship blair and dan but lowkey this is them (i've fallen down an edit rabbit hole and now i kinda ship them lol)

part one, part two , part three

love and cigs, merc

You and Matt had never really liked each other, you were completely different people, and despite going through every grade together, and somehow ending up at the same college, you definitely wouldn't classify yourself as friends, or even acquaintances. Honestly, you couldn't stand him, with his boyish charm, eye watering smile and breezy attitude, he was insufferable.

Matt was interesting, to say the least. You never saw him without his head phones in and feet planted firmly on his skateboard. His wardrobe seemed to consist solely of dirty band tees, cargos that didn't fit him and beat up sneakers. He was the furthest thing from a scholar, his idea of an extra curricular activity being how many screws he could loosen in the Deans office before the man had a brain haemorrhage over his chair or desk falling apart every other day. Every grade he got was just above average, 'consistently uninspiring', as he called it, and despite the fact that he was actually quite smart, he never wanted to be anything other than exactly that, average.

You on the other hand, we're almost the exact opposite. Your grades were the highest in the entire college, the best they'd seen in years, actually. You ran multiple clubs, were the president of not one, but two societies; philosophy and classic literature; and tutored everyone from under to postgrads. You were clean cut and classic, pleated skirts with knee high socks and a collared shirt, tucked under a vintage sweater was your personal uniform; you looked as smart as you were. You were every schools dream, painfully smart and ridiculously driven, everyones favourite over achiever. From the bows in your hair, to the Plato or Dostoyevski tucked in your arms, all the way down to your vintage platform loafers, you were extraordinary.

The day it all started,

Your books were tucked neatly in size order against your chest, hair tucked behind your ears and knee socks tight against the bottom of your thighs as you headed to your second lecture of the day. The halls of the literature building were as busy as you'd expect it to be on a Wednesday, filled with people all going about their days and trying to sound as smart as possible in front of their new pretentious friends.

The sound of skateboard wheels against the brown linoleum echoed behind you, followed by the huffs and puffs of said pretentious people.

Matt rode through the halls, swerving through the students with ease as he tried to catch up with you, eyes trained on the way your hips moved in your pleated skirt. He called your name, and the sound of his voice made your eyes roll to the back of your head, so you kept walking.

Matt picked up his speed, pushing off with his leg to reach you. he called your name again, this time as he pulled up next to you, kicking his board up and holding it in his hand, jogging slightly to walk shoulder to shoulder with you.

"you walk way too fast" Matt said, only slightly breathless.

"people tend to do that when they have somewhere to be" you said, attitude thick in your voice as you kept your eyes trained on your destination.

Matt was looking at you, grinning at your consistency in hating him.

"where ya headed?" He said, stepping in front of you with a light jog, walking backwards and finally gaining your eye contact.

You huffed, a faux smile forming on your face in response to his cheesy grin.

"what do you want, Matt" you said, continuing your pace and slightly impressed at Matts ability to walk backwards without bumping into anyone.

"how do you know I want something?" Matt shrugged, squinting his eyes at you in bashful accusation.

"because we haven't had a conversation in... three years? and you look like you want something" You stopped walking, tilting your head to the side, "so what is it?" you looked him up and down quickly.

Matt pressed his tongue to his teeth with a smile, stopping in front of you, "I need your head"

Your face screwed up instantly, "I beg your pardon?" you scoffed.

Matt chuckled, shaking his head and rubbing the back of his neck with his palm, "not like that, I mean, I need your brain"

You cocked your eyes to the side, waiting for him to say words that actually made sense, "I'm gonna need a bit more clarity than that, Matt"

"I need your help with an essay" Matt said, biting his plump lip slightly with pleading eyes.

"no" you shook your head with a scoff, stepping out from his figure blocking your path and continuing your stride down the hall.

"come on, y/l/n, please?" He jogged after you, "I'm desperate", gently pressing his shoulder against yours.

"why would I ever help you?" you scoffed, looking straight ahead and ignoring the sentiment of him still calling you by your last name after all these years.

"cause I'm desperate" Matt was looking at your profile, repeating his earlier claim, "and we're friends"

you scoffed again, "we are not friends, Matt" you said, rolling your eyes.

Matt searched his brain for an example of your friendship but came up blank, "okay, fine, we're not friends" he grinned, "but we've known each other forever and.... it's nice to help people" it was the only thing he could think of.

You ignored him, shaking your head with an uncontrollable smile attempting to form on your face at his persistence. Matt continued to walk with you, begging, pleading and saying your last name over and over again like an irritating child, telling you that you're the smartest person he knows, and that he'll fail without your help.

"whats the essay on" you rolled your eyes, giving in and looking to him.

"existentialism" Matt said, his ears perking up at your interest.

You huffed, stopping once more. People continued to rush past you and Matt as you stood face to face in the centre of the hall.

"if I help you, you'll leave me alone?" You questioned.

"absolutely" Matt nodded

you rolled your tongue over your teeth, deadpanning at Matt.

"fine" you said, bluntly.

"yes!" Matt cheesed, "you are an angel sent from heaven, thank you"

"come to my dorm tonight, seven o'clock and we'll get started" blatantly ignoring his compliment.

"I'll be there" Matt said, placing his board on the floor.

"it's the franklin building, room three, if you cant find it then i'l-" The sound of Matts wheels rolling away cut you off.

"i'll just follow the smell of vanilla and academic overachievement, I'll find you" Matt said from over his shoulder, skating away from you down the hall.

You rolled your eyes as you watched him weave in and out of students, dropping out of sight as he rode his board down the flight of stairs to the exit.

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gutsby · 1 year ago

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Cherry Pie

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: You know virtually nothing about sex, and Daryl’s done it all. Together, you take on an impromptu anatomy lesson, and you learn that Daryl has a lot more to teach you than what’s covered in the textbooks.

Warnings: NSFW. Corruption kink!!! Loss of virginity. Messy, unprotected p-in-v. Oral (f!receiving). Daryl puts your promise ring on his tongue while he eats you out and does it in front of someone else, in secret. Half-baked breeding kink and an indirect marriage proposal.

Love him or hate him, the man played to win.

Daryl was one of those few unflinchingly stubborn motherfuckers who never saw a challenge he didn’t like, or a game he couldn’t beat. The world at large was his personal sports arena, and everyone around him a rival. You suspected that was why, with his hands planted on either one of your thighs and a smile as wide as the moon shining bright above you two, you almost felt inclined to believe him when he’d said:

“I’m gonna pop tha’ cherry someday, just wait.”

You remembered staring at him in a mixture of confusion and disbelief, hardly computing the words he’d spoken.

“What’s a cherry?” you’d asked.

Daryl just grinned even bigger and dropped a kiss over your two, tightly knit eyebrows, grabbing your hand to hoist you back onto your feet. Then he’d led you back, promising to tell you everything in due time.

That was six months ago—and you hardly knew more about this wild, elusive “cherry” today than you did back then. The longer Daryl led you down this rabbit hole, the more you started to believe this whole thing was nothing but a sordid working of your friend’s imagination. Another sinister game you were destined to lose.

Presently, you squeezed his head tight between your thighs and gripped the headboard even harder, rutting your hips in the most obscene manner above Daryl’s outstretched tongue. You felt your whole body tremble with pleasure, and in a matter of seconds, that merciless, mind-numbing bliss came crashing over your senses.

Orgasms, you’d learned a little over a week ago, weren’t just the stuff of dreams but a real life bodily release. Ever since Daryl had made you privy to that secret euphoric source, it seemed you were aching for it all hours of the day; accordingly, you’d made a frequent seat of Daryl’s face and rode that wave every chance you got. There were moments you feared the man might suffocate between your thighs, but he came up smiling every time.

At length, Daryl happily lapped up the last drops of your arousal and hummed an appreciative note below.

You slid—or, more aptly, collapsed—down his body and brought your head to rest on his chest, panting in awe.

“You bastard,” you hissed.

“That good?” Daryl grinned.

“Surely this...oral fixation isn’t gonna last forever, is it?”

You tilted your head just in time to see Daryl swiping his thumb over his bottom lip before bringing it down to your own. Coaxing the digit between your lips and waiting for you to suck it, all wide-eyed and innocent.

“Mhmm,” he nodded, pushing his finger even further. Whether he was answering your question or simply urging you to take more of him, you couldn’t be sure.

Though you weren’t particularly fond of that unfamiliar taste in your mouth, you accepted it anyway and sucked on his thumb like you knew he wanted you to do. You even got the sense he liked when your eyes locked on his, so you did that too, just staring and suckling and feeling a bit like a fool. Daryl groaned and drove his finger even deeper, smiling when your throat convulsed around him.

He withdrew his hand and admired the strings of saliva that followed it. Then, with that same hand, he patted your head affectionately.

“Gettin’ there,” he said. Already sliding off your bed and heading toward the bathroom.

Getting where? You thought, almost forlorn at the sight of his retreating figure.

Daryl did this every time—lick, rub, and tonguefuck you dumb ‘til you came all over his face, then leave you sprawled out on your bed while he locked himself away in another room. It was bewildering.

He wouldn’t tell you why he left, or what he was doing while tucked away from your prying eyes, but you surmised it had something to do with the lump in his jeans. That zipped-up, bulging mass that always seemed to disappear mere minutes after leaving your presence, the “puffy” thing you’d prodded once or twice above the fabric of his pants. You ached to know what inhabited that space between his legs, and even more, what made it vanish so fast. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to suss out that those parts of him had something to do with the analogous parts on you, so it seemed you had only to feel yourself up to get a little closer to the truth.

You slipped a hand between your thighs and ran a touch down your slick, throbbing core.

You hardly knew what you were doing; you just wanted to learn more.

A shiver passed over your lower half as your fingers grazed a particularly raw spot, one you remembered Daryl calling your clit. It didn’t feel the same beneath your trembling touch.

Nothing did, in fact. You pushed a finger inside yourself and barely made it to the second knuckle before your walls started to sting.

What made Daryl’s tongue feel so good that wouldn’t work the same for your own hands?

An exasperated sigh shuddered through your chest, and your eyes started to close. You teased another finger at your entrance, hoping to simulate the same sensation of Daryl’s mouth, but you whimpered when it burned. You bit your lip, braced yourself, and stupidly ventured for a third, when something tore your attention away.

You jolted back in bed and shot a look to the side, where Daryl had your offending hand pinched between two fingers. You peered up at him and saw him scowl.

“’Fuck ye think yer doin’?” he snapped.

You bit back your nerves and surprised yourself with a quick return, spoken just as sternly:

“Touching myself, Daryl, what does it look like?”

You tried to yank your hand away, but Daryl kept it close to his body. Squeezed it even harder.

“I thought we talked about tha’,” he said, his voice annoyingly even, “We said ye weren’t allowed to touch yerself ‘less I was there with ya.”

You couldn’t help it. You pulled hard on your hand and pried yourself out of his grasp. Then you slotted it right back between your legs, eyes never leaving his.

“We haven’t talked about anything, Daryl. You won’t tell me a goddamn thing about this...thing of mine, or yours, or anything,” you said, flustered and unable to keep from repeating your words the longer you tried racking your brain of its limited vernacular.

You pretended not to notice when Daryl’s eyes drifted down your body, and the once-flat seam of his jeans started to stir. Didn’t spare a second glance when he shifted uncomfortably on his feet and seemed to waver, indeterminately, between two warring ideas in his brain.

In truth, he was debating whether to fuck you senseless right there on your plush, lacy sheets or else sit back and watch you try and piece yourself together, all misguided fingertips and muffled whimpers before his hungry gaze. And, if he were a little more honest with himself, he would admit he wasn’t just hungry but starved for your affections, seeing you splayed across the covers with your fingers dipped between your folds and fumbling around without the faintest idea of where to put them.

You’d been born and raised within the four walls of this post-apocalyptic community and hadn’t strayed an inch outside a second in your life. Folks like you, afforded the unique luxury of never needing to leave the asylum, simply had no reason to learn life’s dirtier dimensions.

You knew the birds and the bees and your mother’s ardent pleas never to let a man corrupt you down there if he wasn’t your husband, but you didn’t even know how that corruption came to be. You were pure, unblemished territory, blinking up at Daryl with the widest eyes of naïveté, and part of him couldn’t bear the thought of taking that away from you—not yet, at least.

Another part of him felt the urge to defile you in the worst ways imaginable, right then and there, with both your parents lounging obliviously downstairs.

While he fought every filthy-minded inclination in his body, Daryl took a seat on the edge of your bed. Averted his eyes from your fingers and swallowed.

“Hey.” He nudged you.

You flinched with the soft intrusion and opened your eyes to look at him.

Instead of finding your touch replaced as they normally would be, you felt your fingers pried from between your thighs and clasped in both of Daryl’s hands.

Then, gently, a touch trailed down your fourth finger. Daryl stopped at the thin silver band adorning its base and wriggled it between his own forefinger and thumb.

“Can ya tell me what this is?” he murmured.

You eyed him uncertainly before looking down at the ring yourself.

“A promise ring,” you answered quietly.

“A promise to who?” Daryl pressed.

“My— uh, my future husband.”

Daryl squeezed the petite metallic flower that was melded to the ring, pressing it between his fingers as if to prove a point.

“Gettin’ hitched any time soon?” he quizzed, a hint of a smile rising to his lips.

“No, but—”

“So you’ve got this hypothetical husband you’re promisin’ yerself to, hm?” Daryl plodded on, pretending not to hear you, “And that thing yer promisin’, it must be pretty important, ain’t it?”

You rolled your eyes and started to pull away, but Daryl made sure to keep your hand locked in place. When you didn’t answer, he pushed the question again—“Sumn’ real, real special, no?”—laced with a little extra venom in his words.

This time, you were the one to feign ignorance, opting instead to shuffle back in the sheets and play stupid as you retreated into the comfort of your bed. Daryl loosened his grip, but not before he’d plucked the ring from your finger. Then he mirrored your movements and made his way up your body, proceeding to plant his hands on either side of your head on the pillow.

Somewhere in the mix, he’d taken your ring between his teeth. He displayed it proudly above you with a smile.

“C’mon, hon. Tell me,” he coaxed between gritted teeth.

When he sensed your tight-lipped pout wasn’t about to budge, he took the ring out of sight and seemed to move off of you. As it was, he simply slid down your body and toward your parted legs. You tensed.

“Daryl,” you started to plead the moment he’d descended between your knees. He was already getting comfortable.

“It’s a very simple question, Y/N,” Daryl murmured, words a bit more distorted than usual.

You couldn’t bear the sight of him teasing you there but also seemed unable to tear your gaze away. You pulled at his hair, helplessly, and had only to beg him not to play these idiotic games. Unfortunately for you, Daryl’s competitive edge had taken a hit, and he was too taken with the thrill of the challenge to heed your wishes.

His mouth had moved dangerously close to your center. You could feel each gentle puff of his lungs fan across your folds.

Then, incredibly, you watched his tongue emerge from his mouth, and, instead of delving right into your heat, he let it rest between his lips, flashing something light and shiny on its surface.

Your ring.

This sick fuck.

“Give it back,” you snapped, clamping your legs over his stupid, smirking head.

One of Daryl’s palms pushed flat against your stomach, pinning you to the mattress so you couldn’t squirm out of reach. Perhaps you should’ve fought back, but in all honesty, you were too entranced by the sight of his tongue to think much else. A whimper caught in your throat the second he made contact with your wet, swollen core.

It seemed Daryl had maneuvered your ring over the tip of his tongue and was dragging a line up your slit. Pushing the metal petals of the flower against your clit, drawing soft, placid circles, and looking you dead in the eyes all the while.

Then he dipped below to your dripping hole and pushed the ring inside of it.

Daryl lifted his head and licked his lips.

“Wanna tell me now?” he grinned.

Your mind was buzzing a million miles per minute, spinning so fast you feared you couldn’t speak, but somehow, you managed to stammer out:

“Chrysanthemums.”

You bit your lip and watched him wait for you to catch your breath. You could scarcely collect your thoughts fast enough to finish.

“The flower— i-it means fidelity, or something. Mom says the ring’s supposed to be a sign of my commitment to my husband.”

Daryl raised his eyebrows.

“And ya know just what yer committin’ to the lucky bastard?” he asked.

You shook your head. Honest, this time.

In response, Daryl moved a finger to your entrance and dragged it in a gentle circular motion, careful not to disturb the ring he’d pushed inside.

“Tha’s it,” he said, his voice almost lowered to a whisper, “Tha’s the spot, honey.”

He locked eyes with you once more, and suddenly, you understood. All the apprehension and dread, distress, and foreboding decorum surrounding that floral token. Every thinly-veiled euphemism from your mother and father and the soft, assuaging delicacies crafted to fall on deaf ears. The answer was with you all along and somehow the furthest thing from your comprehension.

“My...cherry?”

Daryl nodded and chuckled. He took the ring back on the tip of his finger and started to push it farther inside of you.

“Your virginity,” he said.

When you flinched at the feeling, Daryl straightened himself up and brought his other hand to rub your thigh. Sitting across from you now with a touch of concern straining his features.

“I won’t really touch it ‘less ya want me to,” he mumbled, eyes flickering between yours in earnest.

“You can,” you said softly, perhaps a little too quickly, “Just don’t...pop it, okay?” His previous declaration danced before your mind in flashing letters.

Daryl bit back a smile and assured you he wouldn’t.

The two of you were perched on your bed, seated face-to-face and staring down at the small space between you. Cautiously, almost, Daryl came to slide his finger further inside your body, and at the last you watched the whole thing disappear right down to the knuckle.

You waited. Daryl looked up to find your gaze, and you stared back, almost afraid to blink.

“I ain’t no doctor or nothin’,” Daryl began, slowly, “But yer cherry’s s’posed’a be up there.” He wiggled his finger to punctuate his point.

“What is it?” you breathed.

That was a good question. Daryl sat and contemplated his options, how he might politely explain things to you. In the end, he settled on saying,

“Just skin, really.”

“Skin?”

“Yeah, uh, somethin’ called a high-men, I think. Just a stretch’a skin in the middle of yer...cunt, or whatever, and, uh, I guess it gets all tore up when the—” Daryl cut his speech short, cursing himself for getting so thick in the weeds of it without the slightest idea as to how he would explain that dreaded next part.

“Tore up when? Why?” Your eyes widened.

“No, no, not tore up or nothin’—I didn’t mean it like tha’ —I’m just sayin’ it gets popped. By a...a, you know…”

“I don’t know, Daryl, tell me,” you cried, your voice already starting to shake.

Daryl slipped his finger out of your heat, floral ring and all.

This was a bad idea, he thought. You were already halfway in a panic, concocting the wildest notions in your mind of what horrors lay ahead. Daryl ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

“What pops the cherry, Daryl?” you pressed, trying to reign in your fear as you spoke.

Daryl peered down at the tiny ring atop his index finger and felt a pang of guilt. This wasn’t going how he’d planned. When his eyes wandered back to yours and first caught a glimpse of the apprehension welled up behind them, he knew he couldn’t drag this on any longer.

“Just a...guy’s, uh, private parts,” he said at last.

“The puffy stuff?” you returned promptly.

Daryl nodded, almost charmed by the term you’d given his penis, were he not so humiliated by this disaster of an anatomy lesson.

You heaved a sigh of relief and fell back on the bed.

“Thank fuck!”

Daryl shot you a curious look. Before he could ask what on earth you meant by that, you supplied him with an answer, rejoining,

“Thought you had to stick a knife up there or somethin’.”

“Why would I do that, dumbass?” Daryl’s nostrils flared.

“You tell me! You’re the one saying you’d tear me up,” you giggled.

Oh, I would, Daryl thought reflexively. He regained his composure in an instant and chided himself.

“Shit gets messy, tha’s all I meant,” he said.

You were quick to sit up again, the fear in your eyes shortly supplanted by intrigue. Inching closer to him.

“Show me how,” you grinned as your hands skimmed toward the seam of his jeans.

“Show you what?”

“How your puffy stuff works,” you said, exasperated.

“It’s a penis, Y/N!”

Daryl shot up from the bed before you could lay a finger on his crotch.

He knew you wanted to know but wasn’t quite sure you’d be pleased with what you’d see—your understanding of the male form, he’d come to realize, was even cruder than your knowledge of your own. What if you got one good look at his love gun and fled for your life?

If you were to handle it any worse than the way you’d reacted when he’d first told you his mouth wasn’t just good for talking, he’d have his work cut out for him.

At length, he grasped his belt buckle in one hand and kept your promise ring tucked snug on the other.

“If I show ya, y’promise not to scream or nothin’?”

You stood—or, rather, kneeled—at attention on the edge of the bed and nodded.

“Promise.”

“A’right then.”

Daryl had never felt so exposed, or vulnerable, taking a garment off his body. Each time he’d unbuckled himself and shoved his jeans and briefs down before, it was never to strip himself completely—just to free his cock and give him space enough to rut into whatever woman was willing to share his bed for the night. This was pushing his pants down his legs and actually stepping outside them, standing stock-still on the floor and hoping, foolishly, that you’d like the sight in front of you.

Fortunately for him, you loved it. Or, at the very least, seemed engaged.

Your lips unconsciously parted as the outline of his length came into view. You sucked in a breath. With your pupils blown wide and your mouth hanging open, drool liable to spill out any second, Daryl reckoned you looked a bit obscene. He liked it.

He was palming himself over his briefs in gentle strokes, taking his damn sweet time as he took a couple steps closer to you.

“Now tell me what this is called,” he said, watching you ogle every inch.

“A cock,” you answered.

Daryl almost choked on his spit. What happened to “puffy stuff” and all the rest of your innocent paranyms? Where the hell did you learn the word—

“Cock?” Daryl repeated.

“Yeah, like a rooster.” Smiling sweetly up at him.

“Who taught ya tha’ word?” Daryl’s voice broke out a little harsher than he intended, such that your smile came to fade, but he quickly repaired it with a brush of his knuckles on your cheek.

“You did, Dar,” you said, at the last.

“Me?”

“You’re always grabbin’ your junk and tellin’ people to suck your cock, I just figured—”

“Ah. Right.”

Daryl made a mental note not to get so shitfaced when you were around. And maybe educate you on the subject of blowjobs in a more delicate way, at a later date. For now, his focus was just on showing you his penis and hoping you wouldn’t run screaming.

By the looks of it, though, he didn’t suspect you’d have that problem. You quickly resumed your perch on the edge of the bed, staring and salivating at his clothed erection like it was the finest thing you’d ever seen.

Except you hadn’t seen it yet. Daryl was just then starting to hook his fingers under the waistband of his shorts and pull them down, all while watching for your first reactions.

When you saw small tufts of hair stemming from the base of his abdomen, you felt relief flood through you—thank goodness he had those too—and then the place underneath it was…something else entirely. The two of you shared similar patches of hair, and that was about it. In the place of a broad, empty plane of skin, you found a thick, reddish appendage. It was strange. The further Daryl tugged his briefs down his legs, the more you grew in your curiosity, ‘til the whole thing took you by surprise and snapped up against his stomach.

You saw the full length of his cock and almost couldn’t believe your eyes.

“You wanna put that whole thing inside me?” you said without thinking.

That hadn’t been quite the reaction Daryl had been expecting, but he’d take it over shrieking and fleeing any day of the week. He eyed you with an unusually amused look and nodded.

“Whole thing,” he repeated.

You gave him one last skeptical look before nodding too, seeming to accept your fate. You scooted back in the bed and squeezed your eyes shut as you started to spread your legs in a supine position.

“Go on then,” you said, “Let’s get this over with.”

This time, Daryl’s amusement materialized in an outright laugh, and he came crawling up beside you in bed. Then he climbed on top of you and nudged your nose with his, ‘til eventually you opened your eyes again.

“That ain’t how it works, sunshine.”

You glanced down at the fiery pink, worm-like attachment poking up between your bodies and wanted to hide. Not so much because the sight of it frightened you but because you couldn’t fathom it fitting inside your body—and actually feeling good. You thought back to the words your mother had once used to describe that ugly, loathsome process of pleasing your husband and couldn’t imagine this was something any woman wanted to do. Maybe Daryl had had you duped all along to think any differently.

A swell of heat rose to your cheeks when Daryl dropped his hand between your legs.

“See— yer gonna spread these pretty things and let me go back down for a bit,” he said, already sliding toward the foot of the bed with a smirk, “Need ya nice and wet, a’right?”

You grabbed his arms before he could go any further.

“No,” you shook your head fiercely. Then, seeing the look of confusion on his face, adding, “I-I need you up here. With me.”

Daryl nodded in understanding. He kept his fingers brushing light against your inner thigh and looked you deep in the eyes.

“We can do whatever y’want. ‘S’all up to you, hon.”

He paused to bring his hand back up to your line of vision, holding your tiny ring on the tip of his finger. Wordlessly, it seemed, asking for your permission. You regarded the thing for a few seconds or more, while he watched you, and eventually, your gaze flickered back to his. You left the band where it was.

“Keep it,” you murmured.

“Honey, I can’t—”

Daryl was already starting to pull the ring off in protest, but you stalled his hands. Grasping them, momentarily, and holding them between you two.

“I want you to have it,” you said, smiling, “Want you to wear it right here.”

You reached up and tugged the thin silver chain dangling from Daryl’s neck. He looked down, confused.

You didn’t give him the chance to say another word. Reaching behind his head for the little metal clasp, you unhooked it swiftly and took the necklace in your hands. Made quick work of the ring and slipped it onto the chain, eyed it for a moment, then held it back up to him. Before Daryl could blink, you’d moved to re-secure the clasp around his neck and pulled the spindly metal strand to the front. Now the necklace hung a bit heavier on his chest with the weight of your ring strung across it.

Your name just then started to bubble to the surface of Daryl’s lips, but you leaned in and kissed him before the sound ever reached you.

“Yours,” you mumbled, kissing him softly.

Daryl kissed you back and held you tight. He stifled a groan when your legs came to wrap around his waist.

“Ye sure, honey?” he breathed, hardly able to string words together as the blood surged straight to his cock.

You giggled at the sights and sensations your new position afforded you, feeling Daryl’s throbbing member against your heat and seeing him fight every urge to push it forward. This felt easier, somehow, just pressed to each other’s bodies while your limbs tangled together in the sheets.

Daryl kissed your forehead. Lowered his hips so his swollen, leaking cock came to rest between your folds.

Instead of recoiling or contorting your features in a fearful wince, you moaned. You felt your body move against him and spread your arousal up and down his shaft. Eyes half-hooded with pleasure, you rolled your hips and raked your fingers down his back, and Daryl swore he could’ve cum from the sight of that alone.

You didn’t know what the hell you were doing; you just hoped it was something he liked.

When he reached for your chin and brought you in for a kiss, deeper and more desperate than you’d ever seen before, you felt a twinge of pride—closely accompanied by a wave of desire. You opened your mouth in an effort to moan again and were welcomed instead by Daryl’s slick, roaming tongue.

There was a strange sort of pressure between your legs. Something prodding you softly, keen to breach the threshold of your entrance but stopping short every time. You glanced between your bodies and saw Daryl gripping his cock like a vice down below.

“Honey, I— fuck,” his voice broke off in a moan, skimming the head of his cock down your slit, “I don’t wan’ this to hurt.”

You placed a kiss on the side of his mouth and nuzzled your nose against the stubble residing around it.

“It won’t,” you whispered. In truth, you were clueless.

Daryl shook his head, straining with the weight of his body above you. There was something he’d missed, something he needed to tell you before the two of you took things any further. It seemed that somewhere along the line, his mind had hardened to an opaque wall of lust, and he couldn’t retrieve a single thought. All he could do now was peer down into your wide, glossy eyes and pine for you, all impulses escaping him but the singular urge to make you his.

“I want you,” you said, softly, “all the way inside me.”

You took the tiny metallic chrysanthemum dangling above you—your promise ring that was presently hanging from Daryl’s chain—between your lips, and sucked it in a little. Remembering how much he loved to watch you take things on the tongue and roll it around in your mouth, you did just that and kept your eyes locked on his all the while. You slipped the tip of your tongue through the ring, just as Daryl had, and brought it right back into your mouth. You moaned at the taste, your juices still coating the band.

Your silent invitation wasn’t lost on Daryl in the slightest. In a second, his lips were back on yours, snagging the ring between your two mouths in a hot, frantic kiss, and the pressure at your core jumped to new heights as the head of his cock split you open.

Daryl hadn’t been with a virgin before. He thought the process of “breaking” one in and popping the cherry, so to speak, was meant to be taken literally, so he shoved himself in to the hilt in one forceful thrust.

“Fuck!” you said in unison, for two drastically different reasons.

He seemed on the brink of orgasm and you, the brink of tears, clawing at his back and trying not to cry.

The second Daryl saw your agonized expression, he panicked and pulled right out, but the force of the friction only amplified the pain. You clutched the sheets beside you and tried to stifle your whimpers, suddenly fearful for your parents’ hearing.

“Fuckin’ A,” you hissed, “I thought we were going slow!”

“I-I’m sorry— I thought that’s what I was s’posed’a do.”

“You said pop the cherry, not stab it to death.”

In spite of the ache inside you, you managed a playful look up at him and even giggled when he started flooding your face with little kisses. ‘I’m sorry’s tumbling just as profusely from his lips, repeated over and over ‘til you were begging him to let up and get back between your legs already.

Daryl eased himself down more carefully this time. He cradled your head in his arms and seemed almost loath to push himself inside you again. It wasn’t until you nodded your assent that he stirred his hips at all, taking a painstakingly slow approach to breaching your folds.

You felt the tip of his cock graze your entrance. Rub lightly up and down your slit to collect more of your juices.

“Tha’s a good fuckin’ girl,” Daryl growled, overwhelmed by the warmth of your arousal pooling around his cock. Remembering his position, however, he refrained from going any further.

“Is it wet enough?” you murmured.

“Uh-huh,” Daryl panted, gripping the sheets beside your head to keep from moving before you were ready. Then, softly, “I’ll be gentler this time, I promise, baby.”

You spread your legs a little wider and nodded. Dug your heels into his lower back to try to ease him in. Daryl readily aided your efforts and started pressing the head of his cock to the edge of your tight, aching hole.

He couldn’t have penetrated you any gentler if he tried. In spite of how wet you were, there still came a sting, and you seized his forearms the farther he pushed. Only this time Daryl was all eyes, watching and waiting and looking you up and down like another inch of his length might tear you in two. He sponged wet kisses up and down your jaw and hoped the brush of his lips would come as a welcome distraction from whatever discomfort you were suffering below.

Moreover, he found that talking you through it helped loosen your muscles. Whether you were aware of it or not, your were clenching hard on his cock, scarcely taking him more than an inch and unlikely to allow him any further if your walls stayed this rigid. Daryl started stroking your hair.

“So good f’me. So nice an’ sweet takin’ this cock,” he said, tone as tender as it had ever been.

You grimaced at the intrusion of another inch and held the back of his neck between your two hands even tighter. Daryl lowered his head to kiss you again.

“Sweetest thing I ever seen.” He pulled away to marvel at you, all flushed cheeks and quiet sighs.

It was clear you were just trying to survive with your consciousness intact, too focused on breathing and easing him in to think much else, so he nudged your chin to mumble even more quietly, “S’all gonna be okay, hon. I’m right here for ya.”

“Oh, I feel ya here. I know,” you quipped between labored breaths.

Before you could venture a smirk, you felt your walls start to pulse. The gentle throb of your warmth beckoned Daryl further into your cunt, and the two of you moaned at the sensation.

Your eyes shuttered closed, while Daryl’s drifted down below.

“Sonovabitch,” he said in a breath.

His gaze came to a stop and stayed glued on one small, absurd sight in particular: a bulge along your stomach.

He almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing until he withdrew his length a little and saw the swell follow his movement. He watched the outline of his cock protrude from your belly, ran his fingers over the mound, and rutted his hips again, this time feeling it move under his own hand. Daryl was beside himself.

He placed his palm over the spot and pressed hard. He thrusted back and forth and heard a string of expletives sound beneath him as your eyes snapped open.

“Fuck, Daryl,” you whined, “What is that?”

“Cunt’s barely able to keep me in, I’m pokin’ out yer belly.” Daryl would’ve chuckled if he weren’t so violently aroused.

You threw your head back on the pillow and moaned. This new, added pressure above your stomach somehow made things better for you, like a spot inside was getting just the kind of touching it needed. You squirmed against Daryl and felt him bottom out inside you.

The two of you were watching it now, forehead to forehead—Daryl’s fingers spread across your tummy and the heel of his palm digging deep in that mound, your bodies making wet, squelching sounds again and again, and your pussy, for the first time, swallowing him whole. Daryl quickened his pace to an almost vicious cadence and brought his free hand to cup your face.

He jerked your head even closer, fingers knotting tight in your hair, “See this?”

You were barely able to nod as a knot of pleasure was just then starting to form in your stomach.

Daryl wasn’t having it. You felt his nails dig a set of white, angry crescents in your neck as he pulled your hair even harder.

“Big girl words, darlin’— use ‘em.”

You yelped when he yanked your head up to meet his gaze and shook you with a particularly brutal thrust down below.

“I see it!” you shrilled.

Daryl’s hand slipped from the back of your head and took your face in one pinch—almost crushing both cheeks and squeezing your lips in a ridiculous pout to look up at him. Then he smiled, sweet as ever, and placed a light kiss on your mouth.

“Are you a— a woman of yer word?” he asked.

His thrusts continued at breakneck speed. You whined.

“Huh?”

“Keep promises ya make?”

Daryl smiled even wider as he watched you come unraveled before his eyes. One hand placed on your stomach and the other still gripping your face, he made his merciless rounds and savored every last throb of your walls as he pounded you into the mattress. He knew those whines, could sense that that hold on his cock wasn’t just for show. You were close, and dangerously so.

You could scarcely speak above the buzz in your ears but managed to answer in the affirmative.

“Good,” Daryl cooed in your ear, “It’s settled, then.”

If you weren’t mere seconds from your release you would’ve told him that you couldn’t quite understand him with his head so far up his ass. The man was a Grade A prick when it came to telling riddles and senseless tales at the most inopportune times, but this one really took the cake.

Fortunately, Daryl proceeded without requesting any further input from you. He just pistoned his hips, pressed on your belly, and squeezed your cheeks even tighter as he continued on in a casual tone,

“Gonna cum all over this cock?”

You moaned and said you would.

Your legs tightened around Daryl’s waist as he groaned above you and slammed into you even harder.

“Gonna be my good little girl?” he growled, dropping his hand from your face to rub circles on your clit.

You shrieked and swore you would.

Daryl continued to rut his hips and nudge you closer and closer to the cusp of your release, eyes never leaving you. With each ruthless thrust, you felt the knot inside you double in size and send tremors straight down through your thighs, and the only thing keeping you grounded in place, it seemed, was Daryl. He grinned.

Then he leaned even closer, forced your legs even wider, and fucked you faster than he ever had before,

“Gonna be my good little wife one day?”

His words had barely registered before something inside you burst, and you went moaning, writhing, screaming on Daryl’s cock as your orgasm tore through your body. More powerful than any feeling Daryl’s tongue had wrought from you before, this was pure, primal ecstasy. You feared you might actually draw blood from his back with the slash of your fingernails down his skin.

Your body fell limp in the bed. You would’ve liked nothing more than for Daryl to keeping moaning and pumping in your blissful, fucked-out state, but it seemed the man had plans of his own. To your surprise, he jolted out of you a moment later and seized his cock in one hand, wringing it out in the roughest, most slipshod fashion. Daryl let out a long, protracted moan and jerked himself over and over.

Ropes of a milky white fluid sprayed your stomach.

Your eyes widened at the sight, as did Daryl’s. Though his grew not for want of understanding but rather realizing that thing he’d forgotten to tell you earlier.

Babies.

“Shit,” he hissed, already lowering both hands to wipe the stuff off your belly.

You were frozen in place and eyeing the foreign goo like it was the most frightening thing in existence.

“W-What the fuck is—” you said, only to be cut short.

This time, both of you seized with horror as a knock sounded on your bedroom door. Daryl, actively caught cum-handed, had little more to do than dive under the covers while you flailed your limbs and tried to collect every last pillow around you.

Your duvet was thick. Pillows and plush toys aplenty. You could only hope Daryl would keep his long legs bent at the knee and his two feet from sticking out at the end of the bed. Your eyes darted to the door as it opened.

“Hi, mom,” you chirped.

“Hey, pumpkin.”

Your mother paced the few short steps into your room and toward your bed, a warm smile on her face.

“Boogeyman keepin’ you up?” she teased.

You reckoned you thought of Daryl a little more fondly than that, but your mom wasn’t too far off-target.

“All night,” you answered.

Your legs shuddered under the sheets as Daryl nudged your red and fucked-raw pussy with his nose. Clearly not amused.

Then, as your mom had long been accustomed to do, she reached out for your forehead and brushed your hair from your face. Planted a kiss at the top of your head.

“Well tell him to knock it off, because you’ve got a big, big day tomorrow,” she said, crossing her arms as she stood off to the side of your bed.

French lessons from one of your father’s friends and supper club with the girls. Riveting stuff.

You opened your mouth to say something in reply, but your mother was evidently keen to continue,

“Now I know you’ve got a lot on your plate—”

You stifled a whimper when the nose that Daryl had used to brush against your cunt was presently replaced by his tongue. Licking a calm, lazy strip up your slit as the rest of your mom’s speech reached you in a garble.

Slyly, you lowered a hand to the head of hair that was occupying the space between your legs and yanked a clump of it. Silently begging Daryl to cut the bullshit games before both of you got caught.

Daryl would do no such thing. He continued to flick the tip of his tongue across your heat before closing his lips around your clit, sucking gently.

“—missing for a day at least. Maybe even—”

You swallowed and nodded your head, trying to shield your mother from the fact that you and your newly-popped cherry were getting the tonguebath of a lifetime under the covers. Daryl had somehow managed to bring a hand up to your heat and was currently pumping his middle and ring fingers in and out of your hole at a brutal speed.

It wasn’t until your mom said one word in particular that either of you perked up and stopped what you were doing.

“—Dixon—” your mom babbled on until you broke in,

“Who?”

“Daryl Dixon. Went MIA and his brother’s worried sick. Found his crossbow in our backyard a little while ago, was just wondering if you’d seen him.”

Your stomach twisted. Daryl’s fingers stalled inside you.

“No ma’am, I-I haven’t,” you squeaked.

Daryl bit your thigh as if to say, “Liar.”

“Alrighty then, just checkin’.” Your mom clasped her hands together and turned on her heels, “He should turn up sooner or later. Get some sleep now, sweetheart.”

The door closing behind her was like music to your ears.

As soon as it shut, Daryl threw the duvet off and licked his lips in a smirk.

“You fucker!” you bit.

“You liar,” he sneered, climbing back on top of you quick. Careful to avoid the half-dried puddle of semen on your stomach.

“Hey, you never told me what this w—”

“Cum. Stuff I’m gonna shoot in yer belly, not on it, when yer good ‘n ready to have my babies,” Daryl grinned.

Ready? For babies? Your mind was still reeling from the absurdity of your previous predicament, heart all but beating out your chest, and this man remained totally unperturbed. Talking about breeding, of all things.

“There will be no babies had between us, Daryl,” you snapped, “That’s a husband privilege, and like you said, I’m not gettin’ hitched any time soon.”

The smile from Daryl’s face didn’t falter. He just leaned forward and gave you a look as if to say he knew better.

“Thought y’said you were a woman of yer word,” Daryl seemed to taunt as he ran a hand up your calf.

You didn’t bother to swat it away, just shot him a glare and muttered, “I am.”

“You are?”

Daryl moved in, a hint of a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Before you could say another word, you watched him hook one thumb in the ring that hung from his neck. Slid it back and forth across the chain and observed your eyes in wordless amusement as they followed its gentle path.

“You said—” Daryl started.

“Did not,” you returned.

“—and promised you’d—”

Your cheeks grew enflamed with a fierce, angry blush. There was no fucking way he wanted you to—

“Save it for your husband,” Daryl said, still flashing that shit-eating smile as he brought the ring between his lips once more, “And you gave it to me.”

This was undoubtedly the most deranged marriage proposal you’d heard in your life.

You rolled your eyes and reached for your promise ring now pinched between his teeth, ready to yank it off the chain altogether, when another intrusion sent you scrambling for the sheets.

Your bedroom door opened for a second time that night—this time to reveal your mother and father at the threshold of your room, stepping in without a knock.

“Hey pumpkin, I—”

“Shit.”

You ducked behind Daryl, and Daryl chucked the last droplets of cum off his hands in a flash.

You looked at him, he looked at you, and your parents stood terrified, staring at you both.

When Daryl’s gaze flitted up, you saw his jaw slacken considerably as his eyes fell on your father for the first time. The next thing you knew, your ring was trembling out of his mouth, his whole face draining of color. He swallowed, almost seemed to choke on his spit as his throat tightened up, and suddenly he was speaking, stammering, quietly, pupils blown wide in pure horror:

“Mr. Grimes, it’s not what it looks like.”

#daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon imagine #smut #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #the walking dead #daryl dixon one shot #twd imagine

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lokidjarin-7567 · 1 month ago

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Kinktober Day 7: Secret Relationship

Spencer Reid x you

Contents: fem!reader x Spencer Reid (Criminal Minds), oral sex fem receiving, flashbacks, ooey gooey feelings

W/C: 3.2k

Ok so I’m behind again, oops, but I’m proud of this one! Again, not the kinkiest but I got carried away with the fluff and I also got into a cipher-related rabbit hole so I hope you enjoy regardless :))

PS: This is also a love letter to pre-boyband hair season 5 Spencer, AKA my favourite hair era, as depicted below

Kinktober Masterlist | General Masterlist | AO3

“Do you want to grab some coffee?” A voice whispered beside you, a touch too close to be just colleagues. You smiled uncontrollably, heart rate picking up as his hand brushed across your back.

“Sounds good.”

That’s how you found yourself pressed against the door of the copy room, Spencer’s lips on yours, his hand up your skirt.

“We’ve got time, baby…” He practically whined between kisses, bucking his hips into yours.

“Spence! We have…“ you checked you watch absentmindedly, “5 minutes until briefing.” He grinned.

“I take that as a challenge…”

His head started to dip, moving to kneel down, but you grabbed his hair with a fake gasp of disbelief, pulling him back up to his usual height, looming over you.

“Oh honey, I don’t doubt you could, but I’m not sure these walls are soundproof.” Your fingers moved to his cheek, and he sighed into your lips, his hands returning to your waist and squeezing.

“But you left so early this morning, I didn't have time to start your day right…” You were grinning ear to ear, noses bumping into each other clumsily, and you whimpered into his mouth as his teeth grazed your bottom lip.

“I know, I know, I’ll make it up to you later, I promise…” You kissed him one last time with finality, pushing off the door and smoothing your skirt, but he was slightly less keen to leave, pressing himself against your hip as he helped straighten your hair and lip gloss. “I should probably leave first. You clearly need a minute.” He huffed behind you, but you had already slipped out of the room, heading into the bullpen as if nothing had happened.

You’d had a crush on him for a long time before anything happened. You joined the team a couple of years ago as a linguistics and code-breaking expert - something that was surprisingly helpful in the cases the BAU took on. You’d harboured years of butterflies, coy glances, occasional hand grazes… and you thought you’d done a pretty good job at hiding it. You’d known it was unrequited - he never so much as looked in your direction unless he was asking your opinion on something he was working on. It was starting to get to you. Your feelings had slowly been growing, swelling in your chest as you watched from afar, to the point where you had considered transferring departments. And then it all changed.

It was a case in California; a serial killer who was carving encrypted messages into his victims posthumously, only you had no idea what cipher he had used. You and Spencer had been working tirelessly for days to crack it while the rest of the team were searching for physical evidence, and it was a distraction you were grateful for. Even though you were working alone with him in close quarters, it was one of the few times you could briefly forget about your feelings, too consumed with your work to allow yourself to think about him.

It was night 3 of sleeping at the station. JJ had predicted it was going to happen, moving your go bags from the hotel to the precinct on the first day, and you and Spencer had been taking turns napping on the small couch whenever you physically couldn't keep your eyes open. You were sleep deprived and strung out, but you were close. You could feel it. You knew it wasn’t a shift cipher or some kind of alternate alphabet converted back and forth - you had exhausted every possibility of that days ago. You had been testing more complex ciphers, Garcia running everything imaginable through software to attempt to decipher it, but with no luck.

“What haven’t we tried?” Spencer muttered, pacing the room after a last ditch attempt at some kind of converted polybius square. Garcia was on speaker, confirming that she had tried every option available to her twice over.

“I mean, at this point, it could only be some kind of complex Vigenère cipher that somehow hasn’t been deciphered through Garcia’s software, or…” You didn’t even want to say the other option aloud - just the thought that three days work would’ve been completely wasted sent a shiver through your body.

“Or it’s a one-time pad.” Spencer said what you were too scared to, collapsing on the sofa with a sigh.

“A one-time pad? Is that the…”

“Unbreakable cipher. Yeah.” He confirmed.

“Unless…” A thought struck you, and you stood to the whiteboard you had set up in the room, scribbling down the ciphertext from the first body and converting it to numbers. “We need to think about this from the unsub’s point of view. He wouldn’t use a true OTP because if he truly wanted to hide this code, he wouldn’t carve it on his victims. But, the key might not be random.”

“Yeah, but then it would’ve been picked up on Garcia’s systems…”

“Not if each body had a different key….” You had written and converted the next two bodies’ codes while you were speaking, and you stood back briefly, showing Spencer what you had written. “We’ve been collating the messages and running them as a whole, but…do you see a pattern?” He paused, eyes scanning over the board frantically, and then he calmed visibly, a wave of realisation hitting his features. You smiled as he saw what you did, standing quickly and grabbing another pen to scrawl the keys beneath each.

“The Bible.” He whispered. “A Vigenère is hardest to break if the key is as long as the plaintext. Seven letters. Six letters. Nine letters. Genesis. Exodus. Leviticus.”

“It might work.” He nodded, brow furrowed in thought as he stared at the lettering.

“Let’s try it.” He wrote the corresponding letters as you did the sums, converting them back to the alphabet and - to your shock and relief - it was making sense.

P. L. E. A. S. E. H. …

E. L. P. M. E. I. …

C. A. N. T. S. T. O. P. J. …

“Garcia, can you read the last body please? The one we don’t have photos for yet…”

“No need.” Spencer muttered, writing it down without glancing up. You forgot how immaculate his memory was sometimes.

“Thank you.” It was seven letters. Perfect. You wrote numbers, he converted, you did the sum and muttered the letters aloud…

A. M. E. S. T. O. L.

“James. James ‘tol’? Is that a name, or the start of one?” Garcia asked over the speaker, but Spencer wasn’t listening, muttering to himself as he moved to the files quickly, flipping through them.

“No, I…” You answered for him, “I think Spence is onto something Pen…”

“Get Hotch on the line.” He barked, finding what he was looking for and bringing it to you.

“Hotch here…” A tired voice rung out in the small room just as you realised what Spencer was showing you, a gasp escaping your lips.

“It was David.” He breathed immediately, his words tumbling out at a breakneck speed. “The message on the bodies said something about James followed by T-O-L, and that reminded me of your interview…”

“David kept referring to a colleague throughout the interview, a James, that ordered him around a lot…”

“If he kills again, I bet the phrase would be completed. James told me to, maybe?” You mused, and Spencer nodded.

“Garcia, have you got his file.”

“Yes, I’m opening it now and… oh my god.”

“What is it?”

“He had a brother called James. Hung himself when David was 11.”

“And all of his victims died from strangulation.” The pieces had fallen perfectly into place.

“Address?”

The unsub’s home had been closer to the hotel, so Hotch and the rest of the team went to his listed address, leaving you and Spencer to wait nervously in the precinct. You were pacing frantically, knotting your hands as the sound of your heavy boots echoed throughout the room. Spencer cooed your name calmly, and you turned to him, blushing lightly. He was sitting on the edge of the sofa, leant forwards with his arms on his knees looking up at you with… a look you’d never seen before. Concern mixed with something else, something foreign to you. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced with a kind smile.

“Just sit for a minute. Try and relax.” You nodded weakly, perching on the edge and trying to still your racing heart, leg bouncing and hands still twisting in each other with nervous energy.

“Sorry, I… I know we’ve done our bit now but I hate not being there when the team are apprehending him…”

“I know what you mean,” he muttered. You sat in silence for a few minutes, mind racing with what might be happening. What if he was armed? What if he’d decided to shoot his way out? They could all be dead right now, and you would have no idea….

Spencer’s phone rang. He stood, answering it quickly. It was Emily, and you heard him mutter a few affirmatives, smile playing across his features.

“Did they…” You asked as soon as he hung up, and he nodded.

“Yep, it went perfectly. He’s in custody, and they’re on their way back now.” The relief you felt was palpable, a sigh falling from you as he sat back down on the sofa next to you, sinking into it and resting his head back, mirroring your position.

You hadn’t realised your leg was still bouncing until his hand fell to it. Your breath caught in your throat as he squeezed lightly, stilling you effortlessly. He was so warm, slender fingers fanned out across the space just above your knee, and it took a moment for you to compose yourself. You turned your head, and he was already gazing at you, the mysterious expression from earlier back, his dark eyes meeting yours with warmth.

“You were incredible today…” He muttered, hand still resting on his leg, and you couldn’t help but blush. He was the most intelligent person you knew, and likely would ever know, and even without your feelings being involved, a complement from him was about the highest praise a person could get in your line of work.

“Thank you, but I couldn’t have done it without you…”

“Bullshit.” He whispered, and you laughed.

“Ok, maybe I could’ve, but it would’ve taken me twice as long.” He chuckled then, eyes scanning over your face with an intensity you only saw when he was trying to analyse something. It felt as though his eyes were boring into your skin, and you had to look away, heart near beating out of your chest. His hand shifted slightly on your leg, and oh sweet Jesus you just remembered it was still there. It had a strange affect on you - like when you put a harness on a cat and they suddenly couldn’t walk. You were frozen solid, trying to breath and staring at the ceiling.

Then his hand touched your chin. It was light, delicate, just guiding your eyes back to his and it wasn’t until that moment you finally realised what that look had been, the one you couldn’t identify. It was a reflection of what you had been feeling for months. The longing, the restraint, the need that swirled up inside you every time you stole a glance at him, and now, seeing those same emotions in his soft eyes, it was sobering. He wanted you too.

He moved first, gently pulling your lips to his and kissing you, light as a feather. It was tentative and sweet, so unsure and your body took a second to process that the thing you had been imagining for years was actually happening. And then you smiled, hands moving to the base of his neck, fingers twisting into his gorgeous hair and you pulled him back to you, lips clashing in a kiss full of years of pent up desire and desperation. You felt his body relax under your touch as the kiss deepened, his hands wandering to trail your waist and hips, before tangling in your hair and holding tight, pulling you closer. You had twisted until you were practically on his lap, hands falling to his shirt and bunching it up as his tongue finally hit yours, every bone in your body turning to jelly as you tasted him. It was magnetic, everything you had wanted for a long time finally coming to fruition and you couldn’t even break away for a second of air, so lost in him that breathing was no longer important.

And then the Precinct door banged open, and you jumped away as though you had been electrocuted. You laughed, cursing quietly as you tried to smooth your hair, tousled from his hands, while he just smiled, gazing at you.

“Spencer!” You whisper-shouted at him, still grinning uncontrollably, and he finally moved, straightening his shirt and placing his jacket over his lap. You giggled like a school girl, standing and moving to the whiteboard to try and convey a more believable working situation, and to put some distance between you and him, not sure how well you’d be able to hide your smile if he was so close to you.

You still jumped when Rossi opened the door to the room, although, you were more surprised when he didn’t speak. You turned to him, confused, and he pointed at Spencer. When you followed his eye line, you realised he was pretending to sleep, head slouched to one side and mouth slightly parted. He looked beautiful.

It had been six months, and you were stronger than ever. You honestly weren't sure how you were still keeping it a secret. You had had years of practice when you were just pining after him, sure, but it was a hell of a lot harder to not give anything away when every time you looked at him, you got flashbacks to the night before. Even if the team somehow did suss out a vibe, no one said anything, which was something you were grateful for. Spence was a lot better than you at masking his feelings, so anyone who noticed something probably assumed you just had a crush on him. Which was true enough.

You had managed to avoid looking at him the entire briefing, which was honestly a miracle, but your mind was ever so slightly distracted by your rendezvous in the copy room. As JJ spoke, you heard something about male victims, and she might have mentioned Tennessee, but all you could think about was that travel meant your date night plans were cancelled. And you were always cautious in hotels - too close to your other colleagues. It was hit or miss; sometimes, the fear of it was fun, the idea that someone could knock and catch you in the act, but if you had adjoining rooms with any of your teammates… well, them hearing you scream his name might just be a bit awkward. So, naturally, all you could think about now was finishing what you started earlier. You wanted this meeting to be over, to get him somewhere private and to let him completely wreck you before the long plane ride, to get this idea out of your head so you could focus on the case at hand. And then, at last, came the magic words…

“Wheels up in 20.”

The team dispersed quickly, and you caught Spencer’s sleeve just before he left the room.

“My car?” You muttered, earning a grin.

“Change your mind, baby?”

“Shut up.” You smiled. “I’ll meet you down there…”

“What’re you doing?” You practically whimpered, as he opened the passenger door instead of joining you in the backseat. He chuckled.

“Just making space.” You were about to ask what for, when he deftly moved the seat forwards, before getting in the back. Oh. You grinned as he pressed his lips to yours with hunger, backing you into the corner and you let yourself be dwarfed by him. His fingers trailed your collarbone, to your waist, and gripping onto your thigh with urgency. You whined as his lips left yours, earning another soft laugh. He managed to fit his tall frame mostly in the footwell, pushing your skirt up to your hips as you bit your lip, admiring him. He was so beautiful, the way his hair fell over his face, his earnest eyes, almost pleading in the way he looked up at you, his long fingers that so deftly moved your panties to one side.

“Can you…” he muttered gesturing to his hair, and you giggled, hand running through the front locks and holding them away from his face. Your leg draped over his back as his head dipped, tongue going straight to your folds, lips circling your core and kissing your sensitive bud with a hum of contentment. Your body relaxed into him, moan escaping your lips. He’d always been enthusiastic about eating you out, and you’d never complained about it. He was good. Really good. And today was no different.

He was lapping you up, relishing every taste and you were getting closer to your orgasm with every circle around your clit, cunt clenching around nothing.

“Spence…” you managed to gasp out, writhing in the seat, “fingers…” He didn’t hesitate for a second, one of the hands firmly holding your thighs apart trailed down to your centre, two fingers slipping into your soaking core. Your groan was filthy as he found that spot that made your toes curl with such perfect precision it was blinding.

“Oh god Spencer…” you choked out between moans and pants… “baby I’m so close…” Your hands tightened in his hair, pulling him closer, and he groaned into you, sending a wave of pleasure through you that sent you over the edge into that searing hot pleasure you were so used to receiving from him. He held onto you as you rode it out, his tongue still circling you until you were finished, finally stopping when you started to whine and squirm from overstimulation.

“Fucking hell, Spence.” You muttered, as he gently returned your panties and carefully let your skirt fall back around you. You watched in awe as he quickly licked his fingers clean, but it was mostly pointless, as his lips and chin were covered in your slick. You giggled.

“You might have to rinse your face before you join the team.” He grinned, pressing his lips to yours with force, and you could taste yourself on his tongue, making you hum into him.

“Now you will too.”

After a quick clean-up in the parking lot toilets, you both joined the rest of the team, entrances tactically staggered. For once, you couldn’t help but look at him, stealing glances as much as possible, watching as his hands scanned pages as he read and all you could think about is what those hands were doing to you just minutes earlier.

When you started looking into the case, you would be focussed, fully invested, but… you just wanted to stay in this headspace a moment longer. A happy one. A scary one still, for sure, but a fun kind of scary. A hopeful kind of scary. It was peaceful. And peaceful moments were rare in your line of work. His eyes caught yours, sending you a soft smile, and you knew you were in for the long haul, no matter how many people you had to lie or, or how much time you had to hide it for. It was all worth it for the moments of peace with him.

Taglist 🩵 - @emma-e-a

#kinktober 2024 #kinktober #fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #Spencer Reid soft #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds

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lieutnt · 1 year ago

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May I request ghost with make reader who has a huge cock? Like I’m talking ten inches and shit.

Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Have a good day :))

He feels so fucking full, hands resting on your hips to stop you moving while he breathes, hole stretching to accommodate your girth. He knew you were big, eyes zoning in on your bulge every time your legs opened enough to give him a sneak peek, but now that you’re trying to fit inside him you feel bigger, and in the back of his mind he wonders if it’s even possible.

Your thumbs rub soothing circles where they hold onto his waist, giving him as much time as he needs to calm his rabbiting heart. His hands fall from your hips when he’s ready for more, throat dry from his hoarse groans scratching out a “You can move.” The effect is immediate, mouth dropping open as he releases a string of moans and curses as you start pulling out and pushing back in, getting him used to the stretch before you sink in further, the ring of muscle gradually giving.

Simon’s head falls back in relief when you finally bottom out, able to feel your balls pressing against his ass. You remain still, hands skimming across skin as his chest heaves with breaths, fingers tightly furled in the sheets to keep him from floating away. He already feels completely fucked out and you haven’t done anything yet, but that stirring arousal in his gut persists; now that you’ve stretched him, you can start fucking him.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x male reader #male reader #top reader #top male reader #call of duty #lieutnts drabbles #lieutnts writing

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bohemianblasphemy · 1 month ago

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“Feel this? It’s just for you”. Gawd I need that so bad!

I’m so sorry for lack of posting yall - my course is getting busy and I’m in a bit of a mental health slump but here we go MORE BUTCHER✨

Another late night at the iron building had come again - research after research, another piece of paper to file away, it was an endless rabbit hole of corruption and scandal when it came to taking Vought down.

The quiet clicks of your keyboard filled your little corner of the office, your eyes often drifting to the desk parallel to you where Billy sat. His focus was on his computer monitor, scrolling through his folders upon folders of information.

Seeing his eyes dart back and forth, his head in his palm to hold himself up, index finger placed on his upper lip and running over his moustache… you couldn’t help but stare.

Your gaze didn’t go noticed by him, his eyes quickly darting over to you which made your heart skip- having been caught.

“You right there?” His voice was gravelly- a sly smirk spreading across his face, his question bouncing off the walls of the once still room.

“Sorry…” you mumbled, turning your attention back to the computer monitor. Billy chuckles to himself, switching off his device.

Pushing his chair out from his desk he grabbed his bottle of whiskey that he had on display, pulling two glasses from his drawers.

“Care for a drink with me? You’ve been workin’ hard all day…” he poured his own drink, looking over to you for your answer. “Yeah, thanks Billy…” you smiled softly at him, turning off your own computer and stepping away from your desk.

Billy grunted in acknowledgment, pouring you a glass and passing it to you as you walked toward him. Taking a sip of the brown liquor, the burn of the alcohol slid down your throat causing you to cough, making Butcher laugh softly as he tossed back his drink as if it were water.

“Cmon love surely that little sip didn’t make ya cough like that.” He teased.

“Shut up, butcher.” You replied back sarcastically. The second sip you took going down smoother but the grimace still appeared on your face.

Butchers eyes never left your body as he poured himself another glass, drinking you in. Watching the way you stood nursing your whiskey, giving him the odd nervous glance in which he found himself admiring.

You both stood there, sipping your drinks in the stillness- occasionally interrupted by sounds of the streets below.

“You know love…” he broke the silence and stepped forward toward you, looking down at you.

“I see the way ya look at me…” he was close enough to you to feel his hot breath on your cheek, the lingering scent of alcohol on him.

The look in his eyes made your heart race, your breath hitching in your throat. “Billy…” you croaked making him smirk, knowing what he was doing to you was making you got.

Taking your glass and placing it on the table next to you, he pulled you into him by the waist. The desire between you two was undeniable, your hands pressed against his muscular chest and his lingering along your hips and backside.

Billy could see the want in your blown out pupils, pressing himself against you- hearing you gasp as you could feel his hardened cock against your pelvis.

He took one of your hands that was on his chest, running it down his abdomen- feeling the soft material of his shirt before guiding it further down to the rough texture of his jeans and placing your palm right where he wanted you most, feeling him twitch under your touch.

“Feel this?” He whispered in your ear, leaving soft kisses along the side of your neck. “It’s just for you…”

You sighed softly at his words, a shiver of lust tingling in your spine. He brought his head back up to look at you, seeing your eyes filled with a mixture of suprise and longing, making your cheeks flush a dark shade of red.

“Now now, don’t get all shy on me love…” he cooed, bringing his hand up to your face. His thumb caressed your chin, gently playing with your bottom lip.

His action encouraged a small whimper from you, making him chuckle.

“Ya want me sweetheart? Ya want me as much as I want you?” His lustful timbre rang in your ears, awakening every single nerve in your body.

His embolden comment caused you to become bold, looking up at him with challenge and want filling you to the brim.

“I want you bad…” you breathed, your hand still on his length as you squeezed him gently, causing a growl from within him and sending butterflies to your stomach.

Without hesitation he closed the distance between you both, encapsulating your lips with his in a fiery embrace. You were both hungry, feral for each other’s touch.

His hands gripped under your ass, lifting you up and placing you upon the wooden desk behind you- laying you down as his fingers fiddling with the fastening of your pants and underwear pulling them down your legs, discarding them to the floor.

Butcher soon reached for his own jeans and undid them, pulling them down enough for his cock to spring free before returning to you- looking at you laid out on the desk with your legs spread, tracing his digits along your inner thigh toward your glistening cunt.

A small gasp left his mouth as he felt your wetness, fingers rubbing between your folds and circling your clit- his eyes flickering to your face seeing you bite your lip at his touch.

“That’s just for you…” you whispered, echoing his words from earlier. He suddenly stopped, letting another growl fall from his throat as he moved forward, sliding his dick along your folds gathering your wetness.

“Damn fuckin’ right it’s just f’me…” he grumbled, tapping your clit with his tip and making your hips jolt, slowly drifting himself down to your entrance and pushing into you slowly.

You gasped and held onto the edge of the desk, feeling him fill you to the brim as you let out a deep sigh, adjusting to his length.

“P-please butcher, please move… I need it.” You asked, butcher happily obliging as he snapped his hips into yours. He dragged his thumb down to your clit, circling it for extra stimulation.

The sound of slapping skin and grunts from the both of you filled the room, endless profanity bounced off the walls as Butcher railed into you.

“B-Billy!” You whined, your head falling back as you felt the warmth within your stomach build, thighs quivering around him as you neared your orgasm.

“Fuckin’ cum f’me love, I wanna feel you cum on my cock.” Butcher grunted, loving the way your walls clenched around him. His thumb continued to circle you as you came hard, hearing your strangled sounds echo through the room.

His thrusts became laboured as you came on him, his cock twitching as he came deep inside you with a gutteral moan.

Butcher stood there for a moment to admire your flushed face and parted lips, humming softly as he pulled you up to sit at the edge of the desk, kissing you like there was no tomorrow.

“Butcher…” you whispered, looking up at him as you pulled away from the kiss. “Shhh… just kiss me.” He replied back, bringing you in for another kiss, holding you in his embrace- the outside world seeming to be put on pause as you were entwined with one another, not letting go.

#billy butcher #the boys #amazon the boys #billy butcher brainrot go brr #billy butcher x reader #the boys tv #billy butcher imagine #karl urban #billy butcher smut #billy butcher x reader smut #billy butcher x y/n #billy butcher fanfic #billy butcher the boys #billy butcher x you

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orphicrose · 9 months ago

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Are you still doing requests? Can I request Alastor x Wife reader who were married together alive an reunited in hell and while Alastor hates modern tech the reader grew on it and even started a life hack channel on voxtube of tricks from the 1920s and it becomes really popular and she gets sponsors and fan mail meanwhile Alastor needs Angel's help just to video chat her and one day she gets a 5 million subscriber mileage congratulations gift box (that all creators get bit hes still mad) from Vox himself

Old man and an Iphone

Requests are still open indeed.

I can definitely do my best! I’ve changed the dates around a little to better fit the technology advancements in the universe. This is set in the early 2000s

This is somewhat small, but i hope you like it.

----------------------

Years passed like turning pages since your husband had departed from you, in the cruelest ways that anyone could imagine. A fate that wasn’t even inevitable. That singular fragile piece of metal, shot from an unknown hunter, took him away from you.

You knew who he was, you knew what he was. Knowing that you’d end up in the same temple of horror one day that he has. His sins being your sins. That brought you some peace. Knowing you’d be reunited one day. Even if it was in the worst place imaginable. Hell. That day came sooner than you’d like to admit. Leaving behind your clueless grandchildren and your own hellish spawn.

The ground below you hit rather hard, not even knowing you were falling down the rabbit hole till the bottom came right to your face. You let off a grunt in response. Your body feeling light, all of a sudden. As if the age and wrinkles had just vanished, and you were young again. Legs feeling like they could run miles, and skin, well. Your new hellish form wasn’t much of an improvement from leather skin.

Knowing for years you’d end up here, it wasn’t too difficult to take in. Accepting your sins and your fate as a part of your journey. It wasn’t so bad. There was society, and structure down here. Immortality being the only true torture.

The other torture, you had no idea where your dearest Alastor had ended up. It had been almost 70 years since you’d seen him, god knows what he looks like now. Your reunion was sudden, after all, he was a well known overlord. Yet, it was still something out of a textbook romance novel.

Over the next decade or two, you two spent every second together. Refusing to be apart again. You sharing stories about your children, grandchildren. Melting Alastor's heart like he never thought you could. There was so much catching up to do. After time, you became infatuated with the media, creating your own channel. it was called "Hellish crafts", which started with a bunch of silly tips and tricks when it comes to house work. Alastor didn't understand, but it came with a hefty income.

After becoming tenants at the misguided daughters of hells hotel, you soon began helping with advertisements. Which grew the channel even more. From random life hacks, to advertisements, to smaller channels asking you for your help to grow theirs.

"Must you film me, dear?" his hand covers his face as the camera fizzes out of focus.

"Yes! Its for Charlie. Lighten up old man" You teased him, filming the hotel lobby. He smiled at your expression, resting a hand on the small of your back as you did your craft.

"Y/n! Y/n! Another letter for you!" Niffty ran over

Alastors hand dropped, snatching the letter from the little goblin.. Eyebrows furrowed. "This is the third letter in the passed three days, sweetheart"

"What can i say, my channel is a hit" One eye was closed as the other was pressed to the run down camera that Alastor insisted you used. Still walking slowly around the hotel, trying to get a good shot. Alastor stood in his place, reading the letter. "Another delusional fan" He mumbled.

"Don't worry! i wont let the fame go to my head" You swung around with the camera, getting him in frame. The static of his aura interfered with the lens and gave your brow a small electric shock. Jolting you backwards.

"I've warned you about that" He chuckled, hand returning to your waist and pulling you closer. His other hand with the letter, raising, and a fit of flames emitted. Turning the letter into ash on the floor, which nifty didn't wait to clean up.

Life was like this for a while, constant letters. Some weird, some genuine. But you never got to read most of them, as Alastor made it his duty to send them to another realm before you could. was he jealous? maybe, he'd never care to admit it though. That was until a rather glamorous piece of paper fell through the letter box on this particular day. Stamped with Vox's logo. You got to this letter first.

"What the fuck?" Your almost angry tone alerted Alastor, whose body materialized next to yours in seconds. "What's the matter, my dear?" his eyes briefly scanned over the letter before snatching it from you.

"What is a 5 million subscriber?"

"Its the amount of people who support my channel, i honestly didn't even know it was that big." you stared up at him, waiting for some sort of outburst on his face.

"That's... " he thought for a second "Wonderful dear! Absolutely wonderful!" his arms wrapped around you in an embrace, spinning you around. When you first started the channel, with his knowledge, it was more of a way to pass the time. So, for it to be as big as it is now was quite the accomplishment. What kind of husband would he be not to support his perfect wife, he thought. Whether she was practically paying vox or not. His quarrels weren't hers.

"I believe you have some type of reward, y/n" He spoke again, putting you down and giving the letter back. His sharp nail pointed at a fine print at the bottom. 'Visit the Vee headquarters to redeem your reward'.

You both looked at each other, brows raised and a concerned look in your eyes. "I'm sure it's not important. I don't need a reward"

He looked as if he was in deep thought. Contemplating everything for a second. "You should go" "But vox is your-"

"Hush, little woman" His finger covered your lips "This is important to you darling. I trust you"

The smile on your face made his bigger, making you deserving of the little peck he placed on your lips before adjusting his posture. "On the condition that my shadow follows your every move"

"Done"

A few hours had passed since your departure, Charlie offering razzle and dazzle to escort you to the large mansion on the other side of the pentagram. It was quite the journey, considering the traffic. And it wasn't long before Alastor began to miss you, wondering if you were okay.

"Ahem" static gave Angel a brief episode of tinnitus before he swung his body on the lobby sofa, met with the lanky deer.

"Waddya want, pimp?" his attention didn't last long, his phone having far more interesting contents than the demon lurking behind him.

"I need a favor" his smile made the question seem a lot more sadistic than intended. His body swiftly moved around the sofa, standing in front of the spider now.

"If you want my soul, I got bad news for ya."

"Your soul?" He was almost confused for a second "No, i need help with this" he lifted his hand, angels phone disappearing and reappearing in the deer's grip.

"Wh- hey! Give that back" Angel leapt to his feet, reaching up and snatching it back. "Why do you want help with a phone? Aren't you like, from the dark ages?"

It took Alastor a moment to be able to admit to it. "I'd like... to call my wife"

"Awww, is someone clingy" angels teasing didn't last long before radio dials appeared in the demons eyes, radio interference filling the air as quickly as it had disappeared earlier. "Okay, okay" Angels hands flew up in surrender, Alastor returning to normal instantly. "Splended!"

It took a moment for Angel to flick through the thousands of contacts he had, before he finally reached you. Pressing the call button and handing the phone to Al. Who held it like an old grampa looking at a meme. "What do i do now?" he squinted his eyes at the device in his hand. "Just hold it" Angels voice became frustrated as he readjusted the phone in Als hand.

You had picked up the call a minute ago now, on your way back to the hotel. Being greeted to the two boys bickering. "Helloooo?" you sung out, attempting to get their attention.

"Oh. Hello my dear!" Alastor noticed to and bared his teeth in an awkward smile. "I just wanted to see how my love was doing, is all"

"How sweet. I will be back soon." You had many questions to ask when you were back with the comfort of your person.

"Do hurry"

#fanfiction #x reader #request #reqs open #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin angel dust #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction

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meo-eiru · 2 months ago

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Hihihiii :3 Hope you're having a great day author!

This is my first direct interaction in this website generally speaking, so what better way to start than rambling my head off about the twink slutty baby? YES. Lavi. That cute whore that's been on my mine for a good while now...I want to kiss him, want him to cuddle me so bad grrrr I want to rim his pretty ass and use it as my only life source for the rest of my mortal existence. I want to follow every single one of his instructions on how to please him while he guides me with that shit eating smug grin '>:3'. I totally see him as a power bottom, riding my strap effortlessly while he pins me down telling me how much of a pathetic virgin I am and how fortunate I am to even be touching him, how lucky I am that he's willing to teach me how to make him feel good, how he'd laugh once I'm exhausted and he keeps nonchalantly bouncing still with his endless incubi stamina...MMMM...But also, I want to hit his ribs each time he throws an annoying tauntrum, or make him whimper each time he breaks something expensive, I want to sneak into his phone and watch just all the dozens of porn he has in his gallery along with his search history, I need to make him cry so hard until we're both doubting who's the real pervert here...I NEED to peg him. I NEED to spank his cute jiggling ass until it's red and sore. I need to make him deepthroath my strap and perhaps give me head. I NEED to grope his cute small chest and nurse on his rosy nipples while he tries to make a teasing remark only to be interrupted by his own lewd moans. I NEED to watch how all that lube and cum slowly leaks out of his puffy hole with profane sounds while spreading his supple asscheeks further apart as he whines and mewls begging for more. I NEED to cuddle him from behind while I finger his thight whorish asshole, I NEEEED to give him some genuine, gentle love-making while kissing his pretty face and cooing sweet nothings into his ears while he grabs onto my neck thightly saying shamelessly how good it feels.

I want to give him goodnight kisses on the forehead, cheeks, nose, eyes, tummy and finally his soft lips. I want to feel him clinging onto me with his limbs (and tail of course) while we sleep, even better if he craddles my head on his chest. I might even forgive his murders if he promises to be a good boy with a pretty pout even though he'd probably be crossing his fingers behind his back. I want to do each other's hair and nails. I want him to listen to the music I listen to (Rabbit Hole by DECO27 would be SO him). I want to see his deadpaned and disdainful face when I tell him all my bad jokes. I want to go out with him at those aesthetic cafés and buy him everything he wants even if I won't be able to buy anything else for a while. I want us to get matching couple cheesy things. I want us to do lovey dovey stuff together and maybe a kiss that doesn't end up looking out of a hentai. A wholesome one. I want him to live on my lap. I want him to try make him wear decente clothes from time to time. I want to see his reaction once my mortal life comes to an end. (If he cries and gets depressed he'll look so pretty but if he laughs he'll also look so pretty). I want to show him off to my friends even if I know he's probably the type that types 'uwu', ':3' or 'nya~' either satirically or not. I would bear the cringe for him. I want to send him memes and reels and, overall, just hear his laugh because I'm sure it would be gorgeous just like him. <3

He literally lives rent free in my mind this is a call for help. I crave for more Lavi content.

I'm not horny. You are.

Anyway, thanks for the constant posting! I love how you write your characters and draw/paint! You're one of my favorite artists. Eat well and have a good day/night. :)

Oh my dear GOD this was a ROLLER COASTER

I don't even know where to start. Alright so first of all, this is so deliciously written omg??? You made me put Lavi on a plate and eat him I bet he'd taste like cake. The contrast between the wholesome parts and the extremely unholy parts were crazy I felt like I was in a car that randomly speeds up and down

Rabbit hole is indeed very Lavi, the animation fits him so well as well. If I knew how to make them I'd definitely draw a Lavi version. And yes he's definitely the type who'd type "uwu" and ">:3" unironically

THE DRAWINGS ARE SO CUTE AS WELL!! HE LOOKS SO ADORABLE LOOK AT HIS CUTE LITTLE FACE AND CUTE BUTT

#asks #lavi #yandere incubus #fanart

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crushedracket · 3 months ago

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thinking abt art and pat going back to their dorm room after art had just won a singles match. art pushing patrick inside and letting their door barely shut before he is shoving patrick down onto his unmade bed.

“legs up patrick.”

where art is so fucking smug standing at the end of the bed looking down at patrick who had pushed himself up onto his elbows now. he was licking the inside of his cheek staring up at art who brought his aggression home from the court.

“being the big shot today huh? won one fucking game without me and now you’re in charge?”

patrick is usually the one fucking art, having his face pushed into the mattress with a large hand cramming his face up against the pillows they both slept on. arts back would be arched up involuntarily, he still got embarrassed when patrick fucked him like this. tonight art had won a game and he was the one to make patrick’s slobbery tip soak through his boxers already.

“put your fucking legs up patrick”

it was like on the court, patrick jumping onto art taking him down to the tennis court floor with his legs around his hips, this time - arts mean cock was bullying the stretch of patrick’s hole.

“shit, fuck art, don’t stop..”

patrick would hiss and grab the sweaty blondes curl, the headboard slamming against the wall. they had no idea how the room next to them hadn’t made any complaints yet.

art fucked him harder and faster, their bodies slick with sweat rubbing against one another while patrick’s moans got louder and so did arts. both of them were obnoxiously loud and vocal, patrick’s knees hooked on arts hips while the angel blonde forced patrick to take it. it was messy, their lips sliding back and forth and drool pooling down the sides of their mouths to form little wet spots on the bed by patrick’s neck. when they stare at one another there’s a fog casted over their pupils, patrick’s eyes barely open while watching him.

“you like that? yeah? say you fucking love it. you love being a fucking whore.”

art hissed down at him, his hips pulling back and then snapping back against patrick’s skin to punch a moan out of him. he was fucking patrick out, the gooey precum pooled at the dip of his abs. he would hum and reach up grabbing arts hair to yank his head back, it would end up in a fight for dominance. patrick trying to power bottom his way through it while art would shove him down and bite his shoulder to keep him in place.

both of them becoming breathless and squirming, begging for a release, patrick staring up at the blonde, eyebrows knitting into one another.

“god fucking yes, make me cum. make me cum - uh huh, yes yes. make me cum so fucking hard.”

patrick called out, feeling art shift and start to jack rabbit into his ass, he was a goner after that. as soon as he would stop and plant long hard thrusts into him he was a moaning mess and pouring thick white ropes up on his chest with a cry.

“yeahhh, take that fucking dick. cum over this shit, yeah make a big mess.”

art cooed through patrick’s moans and hooked his fingers in the brunettes mouth. he gave loud grunts, breathy begs before pulling out and using his left free hand to pump his cock trapping patrick under him and grinning as he painted patrick’s chest with his cum mixing the two. he tapped his dick against the mess bathing in how he pushed his fingers deep into patrick’s mouth so he could suck on the digits.

patrick spit them out after art came down from the high, grinning he sat back up on his elbows keeping his eyes locked on art smearing the mess on his chest with his own hand.

“fuck you,”

the brunette snarked.

#challengers #challengers smut #art donaldson #art donaldson smut #patrick zweig #patrick zweig smut #patrick x art

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achromatophoric · 1 month ago

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Wenclairtober 2024, Day 17 - Favorite Trope

[Oops! Got the 17th and 18th mixed up. That’s what I get for writing during a work meeting.]

Enid babbles on from Wednesday’s bed, having just discovered that her girlfriend wasn’t familiar with tropes outside of figures of speech. Nearby is the familiar sight of Wednesday at her desk, staring once again at a blank sheet of paper.

Enid: So like—it’s just chock full of potential for sexual tension! Two characters, forced by circumstances to share a single bed? Like oh em gee! Is that not just perf?

Wednesday: …

Enid: Fake Dating, Secret Relationships, Pseudo-Romantic Friendships, Opposites Attract— gosh! I could just go on for hours about tropes. There’s just so many that I freakin’ adore.

Wednesday: …

Enid: *gasps* Oh babe, I’m like—so sorry! I just realized—

Wednesday: *relieved sigh*

Enid: —that I never asked what your favorite trope is! So like what’s yours?

Wednesday: *suffering sigh*

Enid: *patiently waits*

Wednesday: Just One Hour.

Enid: Huh. I don’t recognize that one. What’s it about?

Wednesday: The scenario consists of two love interests at odds due to the constraints of a single precious hour.

Wednesday: In it, one character struggles to accomplish an important task, while the other becomes the unwitting antagonist as they actively impede their companion.

Enid: Oooh! Sounds ripe for some angst and sexual tension! Does it usually end with them getting down and dirty?

Wednesday turns her chair to face Enid. She fixes her with a meaningful stare.

Wednesday: *ominously* Only if the dilemma is resolved early.

Enid: *tilts head* Is it usually?

Wednesday: *teeth clenched* One would certainly hope so.

Wednesday: In fact, should the obstacle not be resolved early enough, I would say that it actively eliminates sexual tension. Like an arctic plunge or a potent paralytic.

Enid: *blinks* Oh?

At Enid’s monosyllabic response, Wednesday’s meaningful stare sharpens to a pointed glare.

Wednesday: Quite. Such are its negative effects upon intimate matters that they may even linger beyond that hour. Cumulatively, should the interruptions be consistent.

Enid: That sounds ick! So like what’s it for? Generating angst? Or is it played for comedy?

Wednesday: *glare intensifies* I don’t know, Enid. What IS it for?

Enid: Huh? How should I know, babe? It’s your favorite trope, not mine.

Wednesday: 😑

Enid: *innocent blink*

Wednesday quietly turns her chair back around and faces her typewriter. After a long moment where nothing is said, she exhales another sigh of relief and raises her hands to—

Enid: So like there’s a bunch of other great tropes! OH! That reminds me, have you ever been to TV tropes dot com? I check it out all the time! Like sometimes, I just fall down a rabbit hole for hours and hours and—

Enid: 🤨

Enid: Babe, why are you lifting up your typewriter? Is there something on the bottom? Geeze, hold still or else I can’t—

*THWACK*

Enid: 😵‍💫

Enid: 😴

Wednesday calmly sets down her (now lightly dented) typewriter. After lovingly tucking in her girlfriend, she reclaims her seat, gracefully positions her hands, and finally gets to writing.

#favorite tropes #wenclairtober2024 #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #wenclair #incorrect wenclair #incorrect wednesday addams #incorrect wednesday quotes #incorrect quotes #wednesday netflix #wenclairtober 2024 #wenclairtober

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dottores · 1 year ago

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HELIOTROPES

pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments

summary: the gods were sick and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.

genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part.

warnings: fem!reader, worldbuilding for snezhnaya & fatui & fontaine, dottore.

notes: this wasn't as long as i wanted for it to be but im just happy i got it out on time aufhdasuidfh i didn't think i'd be able to. i’m v sorry i haven’t answered asks yet! i promise i’ll get to it this weekend, i just got home

DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE

“Hand the boy over.”

You recognized the men standing at the end of the hall now that they had come a bit closer—two nobles who had been down in the ballroom for the event. You didn’t know their first names but Artem had pointed them out as being part of the Skliar Family of western Snezhnaya, a family that was particularly anti-Fatui and loud about it… when the Fatui weren’t around, of course. They were the two younger sons of the family, a few years older than you.

Artem had been surprised that the family even showed up and you figured that they probably had ulterior motives…

… but this?

Your arms tightened a bit around the sleepy boy resting in them and he shifted a bit, stirring at the movement. He was observant, unfortunately, and seemed to realize very quickly from the tenseness in your shoulders that something was wrong. You wanted to tell him to go back to sleep but you couldn’t push out the words from your lips before he was shifting around.

When he glanced behind him to see what was happening, his whole body started trembling, red eyes widening at the sight of the two men. He didn’t cry or let out any fearful noises, it was a sort of petrified fear that made you wish you could hide him away until you figured out what to do and how to handle this.

You looked down briefly, past his face to where his legs were hanging on either side of your body, remembering how they were all cut up and bleeding to the point it was clearly painful for him to walk on them. You figured that maybe he was just clumsy and tripped running up or down a set of stairs but then you remembered how he had been hiding when you saw him, pressed into the shadows of an alcove.

They’d been chasing him.

“Oi, girl, did you hear me? Hand the boy over,” the shorter of the two demanded harshly, taking another step forward.

You could see now from the shorter distance the anxiety that riddled his body. His fingers were trembling and his eyes were darting around as if monsters were going to sprout from the shadows and tear him to pieces.

They were bold for attacking the Fatui while in their most protected stronghold, if not a bit foolish—a part of you questioned whether or not they might be drunk, you had noticed some of the younger aristocrats guzzling down alcohol to try to make the night bearable enough to get through. You wondered if they knew that the Ninth Harbinger was naught but a few feet away from them behind the wall on their left. You might’ve commended them for their bravery were they not targeting a child.

You smiled thinly. “No.”

“No?” The taller man asked, voice low.

He moved toward you—you wondered if he meant to be threatening but you didn’t see a vision on him, and even if there was one hidden somewhere, it was hard to feel threatened when you knew that the Regrator was lurking behind a door right to your side. He had to know what was happening, you could see a shadow right beneath the crack at the bottom of the door, signaling he was standing there listening to the confrontation and ready to step in, but you figured he wasn’t making himself known because he wanted to see how you handled this.

A test. You hated tests.

You figured you’d be able to handle it if it came down to a fight. Your father and grandfather had been quick to teach you how to immobilize grown men considering you’d be taking over your family’s position in a few years and would have to be able to drag them to the cells without them overpowering you. You would rather it not come to a fight though, your family’s hydro art was dangerous and very easy to butcher with.

“That is what I said,” you replied after a moment and then added: “If you are hard of hearing I can suggest you to a doctor, I’m sure he would be willing to take a look for you. Although, I do warn you, I’ve heard his methods are rather… unsavory.”

His methods—another subject that you had yet to broach with yourself even though you knew very well that you had to think about it. You had to force yourself to keep your chin raised as you stared at the two of them for their reactions; you had heard terrible, terrible things about the Doctor while you had traveled northward through Snezhnaya. Brutal experiments, missing children, twisted creatures and monsters that he lets free from his labs when he decides them to be a failure or drained of use.

How was a man like that your soulmate?

You used to wonder, as a kid, what having a soulmate like your stepfather said about your mother. Now, you know that their bond wasn’t even real but yours was, and you were tied to one of the most dangerous and wicked and cold-hearted men in all of Teyvat.

What did that say about you?

Were you a bad person? Maybe not yet, you didn’t think so at least, but maybe you had the potential of being one, if the gods thought you fit to be with him.

The taller man was livid at your implied threat of Dottore, livid and scared, reaching for something at his side—a dagger?—and you remembered then how Artem had made a comment about how many of the antagonistic families had lost people to the Fatui, particularly to the Doctor, the Friar and the Marionette. You tensed, ready to use your vision at a moment’s notice, feeling the energy seep through you as you summoned it to your defense but the man never came toward you.

Instead, he was stopped by the shorter one.

“Hold on,” he said quietly. “That girl, she was with the Melnyks at the ball. Their heir introduced her as his fiancée.”

The taller man scoffed. “The Melnyks are so in bed with the Fatui that they’re willing to share their women now,” he spat, shooting you a look that was nothing short of derisive.

You inhaled sharply at the blatant insult. You had never been so directly disrespected like that before—in the courts of Fontaine, the nobles liked to keep their insults as passive and well-mannered as possible so that they could not be called out for making disparaging remarks about another noble family, which could cause severe financial or political trouble depending on what family had been slighted.

You were a frequent victim to those veiled insults, dealing with underhanded comments about who the Black Cells would be passed to should your grandfather pass, implying that you were unfit to be the Warden. And then, even worse, the ones where people would make offhand observations about how maybe you would be the perfect fit for Warden considering you don’t have a soulmate, because in Fontaine, it is known that only the cursed and the heartless are not given their fated partner by Celestia. You thought that if they knew who your soulmate was, they would double down on their beliefs.

“I am not something to be shared,” you said, the thin smile on your lips now void of emotion, “and I am a lot more than just a girl who is someone’s fiancée. You will find that out soon enough if you continue to test me.”

Finally, the shorter man seemed to notice the vision laying against your chest, fashioned as a pendant on a necklace and he hesitated, glancing between you and the taller man once as if debating on warning him against acting rashly.

Well, that at least confirmed that they did not have visions.

You felt significantly more confident at the realization, letting your tense shoulders relax and your arms loosen around the little boy—feeling your change in demeanor, he also seemed to relax, his tight grip on your hair releasing as he laid his head back down against your shoulder.

Did he really have that much trust in you?

But then, before the taller man could explode on you or the shorter man could warn him not to, their expressions shifted from anger and concern to downright fear—except they were not looking at you, they were looking directly behind you.

Before you could even turn to look, long and thin fingers wrapped around your shoulders, nails digging harshly into your skin—distantly, you thought for sure it would be bruised tomorrow but you were more anxious at the sudden new arrival and whether or not they were an ally or enemy.

They leaned over your shoulder a bit and as you glanced to the side with wide eyes, you caught sight of another head of silvery-blue hair, cropped short like the boy in your arms. Red eyes gleamed cruelly from within the two holes of the black and white mask he wore, a hint of something unstable simmering right beneath the surface.

“What a treat,” the man behind you said, voice lifting into a giggle that made your hair stand on end. “I had just run out of bodies to run my tests on.”

The storm was nigh.

Dottore grimaced as the winds whipped around him wildly. Above him, the tall trees of the forest creaked and groaned, threatening to topple over beneath the harsh gusts. The sun had long set but his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, sweeping across the forest floor as he followed the path from Zapolyanry Palace to the estate he owned in the area, making his way to the ruins that were just off the path.

They had yet to find the Iota segment. Dottore knew that he was still in the area of the ruins he was exploring, he could sense that much from the inherent tracking system he had for each of the segments but they hadn’t reached the ruins yet. He wondered how Epsilon hadn’t been able to find him if he was in the ruins, unless he had wandered off and then made his way back when he realized that the sun had set and a storm was coming but something didn’t sit right with him about that.

Either way, it was making Dottore antsy. He didn’t like it. The last time he had lost a segment, it had been a situation just like this a little over four hundred years ago. He felt unsettled.

“You found her.”

Epsilon’s voice didn’t even edge on accusing as he watched Dottore carefully.

He had his answer, he just wanted a confirmation.

Dottore did not intend on giving him one.

“I did not.”

Epsilon let out a small puff of amusement, nothing short of a gibe, eyeing Dottore from the corner of his eye—he was the only one of the older segments that didn’t wear a mask, the few times he did was when he was posing as Dottore in Harbinger meetings or on missions that he didn’t want to handle. He could tell from his expression that he didn’t believe a word Dottore said, if anything he thought entertaining that Dottore was trying to deny it and that only made him even more irritated.

“We all felt it,” Epsilon murmured. “The others might not have figured out exactly what it was but I did. I’m sure Lambda did too. I advise you to choose wisely as to whether or not you would prefer him or I at your side when dealing with her. We both know his desired course of action and he will do whatever’s necessary to ensure that our research is not impeded.”

“As he was created for,” Dottore said coolly, “and thus is expected of him.”

“Even at the cost of the life of your soulmate?” Epsilon questioned, studying him intensely for a reaction.

Your. That was an intentional choice of words. All of the other segments referred to you as their soulmate as well. It was never Dottore’s soulmate, it was our soulmate. Even Epsilon had appealed to him in the past by stressing that it was not just his decision as your existence affected all of them.

This was an attempt at manipulation—a carefully picked choice of word that would ignite all of the possessive and selfish tendencies that had been ingrained in Dottore ever since he was living on his own after his village case him out, hoarding anything and everything he could get his hands on, and then again, after he had enrolled in the Akademiya, dealing with people leeching onto his research to try to get credit.

What’s his was his and you, unfortunately, fell under that category as much as he might loathe to admit it.

“I can handle Lambda.” Was all Dottore said in response to Epsilon’s comment, dismissing his warning.

Epsilon made a noise as if he didn’t quite believe Dottore. Dottore didn’t acknowledge it. They continued on in silence for a few moments, the wind howling around them as they crossed the path into the old ruins of a temple of the previous Cryo Archon—crumbling towers reached high into the sky, disappearing into the clouds, and a massive derelict statue that was teetering dangerously in the wind. The snow had started to fall, they were running out of time to find the Iota segment but Epsilon didn’t look the slightest bit worried and Dottore frowned a bit, suspicion itching at the back of his mind.

“You should at least allow the younger segments to meet her,” Epsilon finally continued, completely unperturbed by the threat the storm posed to one of the younger segments. “They will be dysfunctional when they realize they never got the chance to meet her and then you will have three useless segments to figure out what to do with.”

“None of the segments will know that she is here, much less meet her,” Dottore said sharply. “I have information that needs to be obtained from her and then she is going back to Fontaine where she will stay, are we clear?”

“So you admit that she is here,” Epsilon smiled thinly, as if that was exactly what he wanted to hear, and Dottore gave him a cold look.

“Enough of your games, Epsilon. What is it that you are trying to achieve with this conversation?”

Epsilon didn’t respond. Instead, his red gaze trailed from him to somewhere behind Dottore. A sinking feeling in his stomach, Dottore turned around to see what he was looking at. Instantly, his eyes fell upon a familiar young boy standing right behind a pillar, watching them with wide eyes and a hopeful expression.

Iota.

“She’s here?” he whispered as if Dottore had just proclaimed the coming of the Celestial gods unto Teyvat, and then, more excited, he lit up: “She’s here?!”

Dottore realized, very quickly, that he might’ve just been played for a fool by his own segments. Without responding to the Iota segment, Dottore looked to the right where Epsilon was still standing. Epsilon barely acknowledged Dottore as he stepped forward with a small smile and upturned eyes.

“There you are,” he said. “We’ve been looking for you.”

He did not sound particularly relieved or frustrated—if anything, he sounded pleased. Dottore watched as he patted Iota on the head once and then turned to look at Dottore, with an expression that edged at nothing short of triumphant.

He remembered how Gamma had looked so nervous, unable to meet his eyes—he had thought it was because he was anxious over losing two of the younger segments but he realized, quickly, that it might’ve been because he was anxious about having to lie to Dottore.

Iota had been waiting for them at the ruins and Dottore knew the young segment well enough to know that unless given direct orders (sometimes even when given direct orders), the boy would panic and wander trying to find his way back until he got himself so lost that Dottore would have to shut him down until they could figure out where he was and bring him back. Someone must have told him not to move from the ruins until they arrived, and that someone…

Dottore stared at Epsilon, catching the sly look in his eyes as he turned his gaze back to Dottore. Had he planned this? Had he schemed out a situation to get Dottore alone long enough to force him to admit that you were in the palace in front of the Iota segment? Would he really go so far as to put one of the younger segments at risk to do so?

Yes, Dottore realized, watching the unmoved expression on Epsilon’s face as he watched Dottore realize what had just happened—he absolutely would because he knew that it was the only thing that Dottore would take seriously enough to handle himself, otherwise he would have just sent Epsilon alone to handle whatever it was.

More than that, Epsilon knew that with the incoming storm and a missing young segment that the situation would remind him of the one that happened all of those years ago with the Beta Segment and Dottore would be in an uncomfortable and agitated state of mind, more susceptible to snapping and admitting what Epsilon wanted him to say.

Conniving little-

Dottore’s tongue scraped against his teeth as he bit back a slew of curses, rage sweeping over him like the white water torrents of a rushing river.

Gods be damned about the war and needing as many spare hands as possible for his research, Dottore had half a mind to deactivate all of the segments and start anew once you were gone so he didn’t have to deal with any more insubordination and disrespect from himself.

Though he found that the thought of you being gone in any way sat poorly in his chest. Livid, he realized that you might’ve already managed to strengthen the bond just through the two conversations he had with you.

Teeth grinding together, he forced himself to turn on his heel and make his way back to the palace before anything else could go wrong with your unexpected arrival in Snezhnaya. He would get his segments out of Zapolyarny Palace and drag them back to the estate, leaving you at the mercy of the Regrator until he could finish his briefings with the segments and send them all far, far from Snezhnaya.

You distinctly felt like a mouse cornered by a cat, except instead of being the one hunted by the predator, you were watching another mouse about to get devoured, knowing that you would be next. It was with a sickening type of engrossment that had you unable to draw your eyes from the scene in front of you, fear crawled up your spine, seeping into your blood, but your feet were rooted to the ground below you.

The man—who you noticed also looked particularly like Dottore, except he was closer to your age—had slunk past you to approach the two men at the opposite end of the hall. A part of you wanted to put the boy down and run back to your room, locking the door to hide from the shitshow about to go down but he was clutching at you like some sort of lifeline, little fingers gripping the cloth on the back of your dress as he hid his face from view. And even if he wasn’t, you had a feeling that your feet wouldn’t cooperate if you tried.

“Kappa,” an unfamiliar voice whispered from somewhere behind you, urgent and worried.

Your gaze snapped to the side, eyes falling upon another kid with silver blue curls and red eyes, a terrible burn scar covering the whole left side of his face. He was young, no older than fifteen or sixteen, and there was an anxious expression on his face, brows furrowed and lips pressed together as his eyes darted around.

Another child of Dottore’s? It didn’t make any sense, did he have three children? Or was the older one his brother? Or were they experiments? Your head hurt and you were suddenly very, very tired—you needed to lay down. The night’s events were finally catching up to you and your body was beginning to lag, crying in protest as you continued to stand rooted in the middle of the hall. Your room was so close but it was not close enough, you would have to get past the masked man to reach the door and you had a feeling he would not take kindly to your attempted escape.

And what had the other boy called the little one? Kappa? Why was that so familiar?

You let out a shaky breath, trying to think.

Kappa, that was so familiar… one of the words from the old tongue? The ones that Dottore used to accidentally pass over to you?

But was that even possible? You would have to check your notebook but you were pretty sure that the first time you received the word Kappa was right around the time you had received your first word from him and that was what? Eight years ago?

There was no way this child was older than five.

What was going on?

“You-” the taller man choked out as the new arrival drew closer. “You’re-”

“You’re bold for attacking little Kappa right under our noses,” he mused, a lilt to his tone that had you on edge. He reached forward, snatching the man’s chin between two fingers as he forcibly craned his head to the left—examining him like some sort of test subject. “I’ve been trying to get Hearsays up and running again but I just don’t have enough contenders after the last incident… I suppose you’ll do well. Hehe, you’ll at least make for good entertainment, one way or another.”

You watched as he dragged his nails down his cheeks, leaning a line of blood in his wake before he turned his attention to the shorter man with a look in his eyes that was nothing short of gleeful.

“You simply won't do.” He clicked his tongue a few times in disappointment, shaking his head in a sharp and jerky motion that looked borderline painful. “I’ll just pass you off to one of the others for them to run some tests on. I think Rho is starting a new batch of experiments soon, yeah? Isn’t he, Gamma? Gamma?”

He was suddenly agitated as he glanced backward, waiting for a response. The other new arrival—the younger one with anxious eyes and twitching fingers—looked caught off guard at being pulled into the conversation.

Finally, he nodded, throat spasming as he swallowed. “With the residue, yes. The last batch failed.”

“Perfect,” he smiled sharply, and though you could only see half of his smile, even beneath the dim lighting you could see the rows of sharp teeth lining his mouth. “He can get the scraps.”

“Kappa, are you okay?” Gamma returned his attention to the boy in your arms, trying to grab his arm to look at him but every time he tried, Kappa shifted away, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Kappa, c’mon, he’s going to be so mad, just talk to me.”

“He’s okay, for the most part,” you said quietly.

At the sound of your voice, Gamma drew back, red eyes guarded and nervous. He looked at you as if you were a possible enemy, shoulders tense and body language closed off. He looked to be reaching for something at his side—you wondered if he was armed but his fingers were trembling. Even so, you decided to try to calm him down, not wanting another agitated person to deal with.

“What does that mean?” he asked, glancing between you and Kappa as if you had been the one to hurt the boy.

“His knees are cut up and bleeding, I was going to bring him to my room to clean them up. He was having trouble walking on them,” you explained, keeping your voice steady as you watched him carefully, trying to figure out how you would defend yourself while holding a kid in your arm.

But it was for no need, Gamma looked a bit at ease at your words but he frowned as he reached to hold Kappa’s leg to check out the wound but Kappa whimpered and snapped his leg away, accidentally jamming his knee into your side. You bit back a grunt, wincing at the small bony knee digging into your side but only rubbed his back, trying to soothe him.

Maybe his legs were worse than you thought. Concerned, you glanced down and briefly wondered why he wasn’t voicing his pain if that was the case.

“One to ten?” Gamma suddenly asked, holding up his hands to show Kappa. The boy pressed his cheek against your shoulder, watching Gamma as he lifted two fingers, then three, then four, then five. At eight, Kappa pointed and Gamma looked severely distressed.

“He’s going to be so mad.” Gamma looked like he was on the verge of tears. “Kappa, how many times have we told you that you have to say something when you’re hurt?”

He turned his face away again, pressing it into the crook of your neck and Gamma looked around nervously. “Well… he seems to like you. Kappa doesn’t really like anyone so I mean…”

Gamma suddenly floundered for words as you raised your hand to pat Kappa’s back again, red eyes focusing righting on your pinky finger.

For a moment, he just stood there, gaping and wide eyed but then his expression shifted as he glanced over to where the masked man was still mocking and terrorizing the two aristocrats from the Skliar family.

In an instant, Gamma looked like he was going to throw up, face pale and ghastly and you could only stare at him, trying to figure out what had caused the abrupt change in demeanor.

You had a distinct feeling that it had to do with the presence of the masked man and that made your stomach churn with nerves, eyes darting over to him.

“Oh gods, you’re-” he began, voice catching over his words as he stared at you, taking a step back as if he was on the verge of fleeing. Then, his gaze darted up to the masked man he had arrived with, who you could feel staring at you from halfway down the hall, and then back to you with an expression nothing short of horrified. “Oh gods, oh no, Theta is-I have to-I have to get the Doctor. I have to-I’ll be back.”

And then he was gone, turning on his heel and sprinting down the hall, leaving you alone with the little boy called Kappa and the masked man who you could hear drawing closer to you from behind.

You felt like a frozen deer, body tense and cold as you felt the front of his body brush against the back of yours. He reached over your shoulder, long fingers wrapping around your wrist as he lifted your hand up.

You glanced back, eyes catching his for just a moment, and your throat dried at the look in his eyes—wild and unpredictable with a sort of untamable glee that reminded you of the Hydro Archon when she finally took interest in one of the court’s trials.

And when she took interest in a trial, only one sentence would be exacted onto the defendant: execution.

His face twisted into an unsettling and chilling smile, teeth glittering like knives beneath the candles that lit up the hall.

“You’re her.”

“Is he mad at me?”

The Iota segment had been on the verge of a meltdown the entire walk back to the palace. They had finally made it out of the forest and were crossing the snowy span of land to the bridge that led to the wide gates of Zapolyanry Palace. The weather was even worse now that there were no trees to buffer—the wind whipped around him violently, howling and shrieking, snow pelting his face like little icicles yet it was not enough to drown out the sniffles and cries of Iota as he wrapped his fingers around the back of Dottore’s shirt, clinging to him desperately as he tried to keep up with the man’s long strides.

“Of course not,” Epsilon soothed, ever the conciliator as he tried to calm Iota down so the boy didn’t delay them anymore than he already had.

“He won’t even look at me,” Iota cried. At once, Dottore turned to look over his shoulder, eyes landing sharply on Iota from beneath his mask, lips twisted down into a deep frown. Iota let out a cry akin to a wounded animal. “That’s even worse, I mess everything up, I’m sorry.”

Dottore’s head hurt. He grimaced as the wind nearly dragged his hood right down, tightening the drawstrings of his cloak. Distantly, he noticed that Epsilon was picking up Iota and letting the boy latch onto him as he cried but he tried to ignore it. Iota would get over it in a few hours, he always did—he was sensitive and broke down easily but bounced back before the day was up, burying his attention in some book or paper until he totally forgot about whatever set him off.

As soon as they got back to the palace, he’d have Epsilon bring the boy down to the basement so he could nestle away in the library down there and then he’d be good as new, bustling to Dottore’s lab to bother him trying to tell him about all that he had learned in his readings.

Besides the destructive tendencies, Iota was easy to handle for the most part. He was quickly upset but that was a product of the mentality he was created in and the reason for his creation, which he wasn’t supposed to know but the Zeta segment decided to open his mouth about it in an attempt to drive Iota into a meltdown to disrupt Delta’s research so he could pull ahead on it.

The Iota segment was created so that Dottore could do research into the Aranara of Sumeru—unfortunately, Dottore did not realize that the events of the night he was cast out of the village made him unable to see the Aranara anymore, thus making the Iota segment a useless creation. Dottore had debated on just destroying the segment and using the spare parts to create a new one but Delta had convinced him against it, claiming that he would use the failed segment as a means to help with his research instead. Ever since Iota found out about that a few decades ago, he’d been even more unstable than he already was from the mindset he was created in.

“Enough, Iota,” Dottore said icily. “Have your meltdown on your own time.”

Epsilon clicked his tongue as Iota caught himself over a sob, pressing his face into the man’s skin as if to hide his tears from Dottore. Epsilon gave Dottore an accusing look, Dottore raised his chin—this is on you.

Epsilon smiled to himself and then looked away, proud.

Again, he reconsidered deactivation, this time far more intensely, and again, Dottore cursed you because all of the misfortune he had faced the past two decades was solely because of your existence.

You, with your irritating attitude and despicable personality, playing the soft-spoken angel to everybody but him.

You, with your exhausting persistence, meeting him toe-to-toe and word-for-word in every confrontation and conversation he had with you.

You, with that infuriatingly striking purple dress—low-cut and thin strapped—that he hadn’t been able to draw his eyes off of the whole night no matter how hard he tried. He couldn’t help but wonder just how shameless Fontaine fashion was if that was what you wore to a formal event.

Purple. Nearly ten years and you were still obsessed with the same color. How were you so predictable and unpredictable at the same time? He couldn’t stand the thought of you, he hated unexpected, extraneous variables—the only course of action for dealing with them was removal or isolation and he was beginning to realize that neither of those solutions might be an option for him.

But it was just another hurdle for him to get over. If neither removal nor isolation were viable options, he would need to find a different solution.

Holding it constant…

No. That was not an option either—though the more he thought about it, the more tempting the option became. He had enjoyed that irritating attitude of yours and those biting comments that made his brain search for retaliation. He even more so enjoyed that taste of instability, which went against all of his ideals. Dottore was a man of careful calculations and obtaining expected results and yet somehow, when he found himself unable to predict your next words and actions, it left him excited.

How could one hate the unexpected and yet enjoy it in the same hand? Unless it was not the unexpected, it was you bringing it to him. Dottore’s head throbbed, he felt like a pendulum, swinging back and forth and back and forth and back and forth as he tried to figure out how he felt in relation to you so he could decide upon the best course of action for dealing with you.

How bothersome. Already, he could feel things shifting—something he had sworn he wouldn’t let happen.

Not for the first time, he felt absurdly jealous of his own segment; Epsilon, who could understand emotions far better than the rest of them ever would be able to and used it against them very often. He wondered if the man already knew what Dottore was feeling—if the smirk on his lips had anything to say about it, Dottore thought he probably did.

What do you have planned? Dottore wanted to ask Epsilon because he knew that there was some underlying game going on that Dottore couldn’t place yet but he didn’t want to dive into that conversation while Iota was still on the brink of self-destruction, crying and sniffling and choking over his own sobs.

Dottore thought he might trust Epsilon the least out of all of the segments. Unlike Lambda, whose goals and ambitions were as clear as crystal, Epsilon was an enigma, driven by emotions that the rest of them couldn’t understand. He liked to play games with them, push buttons that they didn’t even know that they had, and your presence in Zapolyanry Palace was a large, bright red one that Dottore just couldn’t seem to destroy.

So long as you were around, Dottore would be at the mercy of Epsilon’s unwelcome schemes and he had a distinct feeling that Epsilon would be playing at trying to make the bond between the two of you stronger. He would have to work to counter it without even knowing the game.

Bothersome. This was all bothersome. Dottore hated games. He hated dealing with his segments. He hated being vulnerable. He hated all of this.

All of it? Dottore pushed away the treacherous thought furiously.

“Is that-” Epsilon began but abruptly cut himself off as he moved forward to walk at Dottore’s side, peering ahead carefully through the wicked storm.

Following his gaze, Dottore looked out across the bridge leading to the palace to see a small figure sprinting in their direction—no cloak or covering, only wearing a thin outfit to shield against the sheer cold of the bitter winter storm.

“Gamma,” Dottore murmured in agreement.

He could feel the anxiety rippling from the boy in waves—anxiety and fear. It didn’t take much to push Gamma into a panic attack but this was different. Dottore could feel it. It wasn’t like the usual ones he experienced. Brows furrowing, he watched as Gamma approached them, eyes wild and cheeks bright red.

Instantly, Dottore felt uncomfortable, realizing something was very, very wrong.

“Theta is with her,” Gamma wheezed, doubling over as he tried to catch his breath. He seemed as if he had been crying—a cold feeling, unrelated to the wind and snow around them, settled over him, sinking into his stomach. “You have to get him, he’ll hurt her, he’s in one of his moods. You know what he’s like when he’s in one of them. He’s dangerous and violent. You have to do something.”

“Who is he with?” Dottore asked slowly.

He stared down at Gamma as he waited for a response but deep down, he very much already knew who Theta was with and an old and unwelcome emotion spread throughout him, freezing his bones and blood, weighing on his chest like stones. An emotion that he had long learned to suppress, one that he hadn’t experienced since his days at the Akademiya when they had him placed on trial—he could barely recognize it, it was hard for him to put a name to it until Gamma opened his mouth again.

“Her,” Gamma gasped. “Our soulmate.”

Fear. The emotion was fear.

rbs appreciated!!

#dottore x reader #dottore smut #dottore x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact smut

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ghoul-slime · 2 days ago

Text

Collegiality

Kinktober Day 24: Gangbang/Group

Pairings: Aether/Dew, Swiss/Dew, Rain/Dew, Mountain/Dew, Phantom/Dew, and little bit of Phantom/Rain, really a bit of everyone/everyone but mostly just everyone/Dew Rating: Explicit Words: 3,432 Tags/warnings: Gangbang, group sex, multiple partners, cum play, rough sex, tender sex, hair-pulling, poly ghouls, crying, begging, orgasm delay/denial, Dewdrop getting wrecked overall, Dew being a smug little shit until the big dicks come out

Basically: the boys line up all nice and run a train on Dew

Had this sitting in my drafts for over a year, then decided to finish it up for Kinktober, which I then promptly fell behind on! ( @papaslittlesunshine I swear I will finish the ACTUAL prompts you gave me next!)

Read here on Tumblr or over on AO3

It’s not often that they do this, not with all of them anyway. It’s not that Dew doesn’t love all the attention on him, it’s just that he rarely has the patience to sit there politely for such a long time while everyone gets a fucking turn with him. But since Phantom is new to the pack, he figures why not.

“Think of it like a welcome gift,” Aether had explained to Phantom, like he was inviting him out to dinner and not to take part in running a train on his brand new, exceedingly hot packmate.

Later that night he walks into the common room with Aether, nervous with anticipation, to find Mountain and Rain fussing with the pull-out couch, the mattress now unfolded and made up with blankets and pillows. Swiss stands nearby watching them, arms folded over his chest. When he sees Phantom walk in he flashes a grin and gives him an encouraging thumbs up.

A few moments later Dew saunters into the room. He’s wearing nothing but a thin black robe that he hasn’t even bothered to tie shut, with his hair pulled up into a tight little bun at the top of his head. He makes his way over to the pull-out couch before shucking his robe and tossing it over the back with a flourish.

Around him, Phantom hears the other ghouls start to disrobe, the sound of fabric rustling, belts clinking, and zippers coming undone. He stands there dumbfounded for a beat before he’s peeling off his own shirt and clumsily stepping out of his jeans and briefs, tossing them in a messy pile off to the side. He doesn’t know what to do, where to stand, or what to look at. For now, he plans to just hang back and watch.

Instead, Phantom is startled out of his thoughts as Dew steps in front of him, puts one hand on his naked, bony hip and points directly at him.

“You. You go first,” Dew says curtly, before turning back to clamber onto the mattress, arranging himself completely unashamed on his hands and knees in front of the group.

Dew looks back over his shoulder and sticks out his tongue.

“Show me what you got, new guy,” he teases, before turning back around and spreading his knees just a little bit more. Making sure his newest packmate gets an eyeful.

Phantom’s breath catches when he sees that Dew’s been prepped already, pink little hole already wet with slick and lube. Phantom wonders if he’d fingered his ass open himself, or if another ghoul had helped him get there before dutifully taking his place back in the den.

Phantom flushes, suddenly self-conscious, but Mountain and Rain are stepping in and guiding him to take his place behind Dew. Mountain’s hand rests on the small of his back as he takes himself in his fist, cock already impossibly hard at the sight of Dew spread out and waiting for him.

Dew wriggles his hips playfully, an invitation for Phantom to line himself up and sink in slowly, slowly, until he’s bottomed out and breathless. Until he’s fully seated inside the smaller ghoul’s hot little body. Distantly, he registers Mountain and Rain pulling away as he starts to thrust. He gives rapid-fire, shallow little thrusts, hips moving rabbit-quick and totally off rhythm, but Dewdrop is so tight around him, and so hot. He feels so unbelievably good and he realizes with a panic that there’s no way he’s gonna last more than a few minutes inside him like this.

Dew must be able to tell, because he barks out at him. “C’mon, harder. Give it to me deeper, new guy.”

And Dew is playing just a little bit cruel, Phantom thinks weakly, speeding up his thrusts and pushing in harder, because he feels the way he clenches around him on each stroke, squeezing blissfully tight around Phantom’s cock each time he pulls his hips back. After a few more strokes Phantom feels that telltale coil in his gut pull tighter.

He realizes it’s too late with a whimper, gripping Dew by the hips and giving him one more thrust, as deep as he can manage, skinny hips flush against Dew’s as he cums with a cry, emptying himself inside the smaller ghoul.

He’s lightheaded when he pulls out.

Dew turns his head to the side and Phantom braces himself for more teasing, but instead he just reaches back and swipes one finger through the mess between his cheeks before winking at Phantom and licking it clean.

Phantom’s dick twitches pathetically, but just as quick as he got there, he’s being ushered back towards the end of the line by Mountain while he watches Rain step up to take his place behind Dew.

“Hiya, Rainy,” Dew says sweetly, demeanor instantly changed and ready to play nice for his favorite water ghoul.

“Hi Dew,” Rain answers back with a smile, just as sweet, a well-timed blush rising to his pretty cheeks.

Rain climbs onto the mattress behind Dew, runs his cock through the slick mess between his legs a few times before he’s pushing in and leaning forward until he’s got his entire body draped over the back of Dew’s. Bracing himself with one hand, he takes Dew’s face by the jaw, turns him to face him - and then they’re kissing. Straining, sloppy kisses, all tongue and spit, as Rain humps his cock into Dew, his perfect ass flexing as he bottoms out with each thrust.

“Mmm, that’s right,” Dew hums into the kiss, “give it to me Rainy,” he mumbles, muffled against Rain’s lips.

Pushing himself back to meet every thrust with a high-pitched, showy little moan, Dew tells him that’s right, keep going, that he can take more, that Rain can give it to him even harder, harder. He tells him just how properly he expects to get filled up now that he’s in the water ghoul’s capable hands.

And Rain is so good for him, fucking in at the perfect angle every time and letting Dew shove his tongue halfway down his throat at he does it. Perfectly happy to give Dew anything he wants, as he always is.

Dew grabs for Rain’s hand and threads their fingers together as he fucks him harder, craning his neck back at an impossibly awkward angle just to keep kissing him as deep as possible. Lips slick with spit and fangs clacking together with one final deep thrust, and Rain busts inside him with a groan.

Rain stills while he catches his breath, still sheathed inside Dew’s hot, throbbing little body and admires the thin sheen of sweat starting to show down the back of his neck. He presses a kiss to the fire ghoul’s shoulder and pulls out to see his cum, now mixed with the load Phantom just fucked into him moments earlier, start to drip back out in a thin stream.

Dew reaches down once again, drags two fingers through the mess, and pushes everything back inside himself.

“And that’s round two,” Rain hears someone say behind him with a chuckle, ears still ringing from the blood rushing from his head. It’s Swiss, he registers, biding his time near the back of the lineup next to Aether. Both ghouls have a hand curled around themselves, giving lazy little strokes as they watch the show play out in front of them.

A moment later and Mountain moves in, stopping to pull Rain close, wrapping his arms around his slender waist and dipping him down for a kiss. He releases the water ghoul, who makes his way back on shaky legs towards Phantom hovering at the edge of the group. Rain winds his arms around his new packmate’s neck and pulls him in for a sloppy kiss of his own.

As interested as he is in seeing Phantom and Rain naked and pawing at each other, Mountain turns back to Dew, eager for his turn. The sight of Dewdrop, face down on the couch and panting, looking increasingly more used up - but still waiting for more, has Mountain growling possessively.

He moves in and takes the little fire ghoul by the hips before pushing his entire length deep into Dew, bullying his way inside until he’s fully seated. He’s the biggest of the pack by far, and the stretch and burn of it drags a long, ragged moan from Dew, and for the first time that night, the fire ghoul’s smug demeanor starts to falter. Mountain pulls back, almost all the way out, just enough that he can watch the blunt head of his cock kiss Dew’s twitching, puffy little rim. And then he’s slamming back with a thrust hard enough to push Dew all the way forward on his elbows.

Dew moans again, a real moan, none of those overly showy, bullshit porno moans from earlier, his eyes rolling back as Mountain fucks him hard and deep. He sets a relentless pace, full-length strokes pulled all the way out and then slammed back in until he's punching out breathless cries from Dew with each powerful thrust. He fucks him like that, with big hands wrapped around Dew’s skinny little waist.

If he squeezes hard enough he can make the tips of his fingers meet just below Dew’s navel. With each thrust, he can feel the hard length of himself pushing out Dew’s taut little belly just so. The bulge of him inside is barely noticeable, but it’s enough to rip the orgasm out of Mountain so fast it hits the both of them like an electric shock.

Dew goes stiff with it, surprised, clamping down around Mountain’s spasming cock, milking every drop from him with a ragged cry. Mountain pulls out, and Dew groans at the loss. He reaches out with a shaky hand, an attempt to feel the wet flow of Mountain’s load dripping out of his hole, but not before Mountain beats him to it, catching the rivulets of cum dribbling out of Dew’s ass and pushing it all back in, deep up to the knuckles. He fucks Dew’s loose hole with two fingers until the little ghoul is moaning again, and the wet, slick sounds of Mountain’s fingers inside him fill the room.

Phantom and Rain abandon their lazy, post-orgasm kissing as their interests are piqued again, pulling away from each other to creep in closer for a better look at how increasingly wrecked Dew is starting to look after just three rounds.

Mountain grunts, satisfied, and stands back to admire his work - at the way Dew’s wet little hole has been fucked pink and puffy from the stretch of Mountain’s fat cock and long fingers.

Dew only gets a brief moment to catch his breath before Swiss bullies his way in with a grin, sidestepping Mountain and cracking his knuckles.

“You ready for me, firecracker?” He quips, one big hand squeezing the base of his dick in anticipation.

“Yeah,” Dew nods, face down into the pillows and breathless, hair spilling out of the bun on top of his head. He reaches back with both hands to grab his cheeks and spread. He pulls himself open just for Swiss, to let him see what a wrecked little mess he is.

“Make me take it, Swiss”

Swiss grins wider and pushes Dew’s head until he’s face down into the pillows. He spits a wad of saliva directly onto Dew’s clenching little hole, takes his hard cock in his hand, and buries himself to the base in one stroke.

Dew yelps as Swiss grabs a handful of hair, fingers wrapped tight around his bun and tugs, pulling until the fire ghoul’s back is bent into a perfect, pretty arch. He fucks him without mercy, hard and fast and deep. The wet sounds of skin slapping against skin grow louder as Swiss sets a relentless pace that has Dew crying out, ragged moans and pleas of yes yes make me fucking take it until the springs in the couch are squeaking and Dew’s blush is bright red and spread all the way down the back of his neck and shoulders.

Swiss reaches back with his free hand and smacks Dew’s ass with a wide, flat palm. Dew cries out, caught off guard. Swiss gives him another one, relishing in the way Dew clamps down around his cock with each slap. He repeats until both of the little ghoul’s ass cheeks are bright red and angry and Dew is drooling into the pillows.

He fucks Dew rough, until he has him split open on his cock and moaning like a whore, and then he lets go of his hair, brings both hands to those bony little hips and squeezes. Squeezes hard enough to leave bruises, digging his nails in to mark Dew up just the way he knows he likes. He tugs him in by the waist with a bruising grip, pulls him back and forth on his cock like a pretty little toy, slamming in deep enough to bully Dew’s prostate with every stroke, until Dew is scrabbling at the sheets with his claws and and sobbing into the pillows. Desperate for Swiss to touch him, begging him to make him cum.

Swiss obliges with a grin, reaches around and wraps one big hand around Dew’s stiff dick, hanging hot and heavy between his legs, bouncing in time with the thrusts wracking his body. Swiss jacks him off until he feels Dew start to flutter around him, until he feels him clench. Until he gets him right on the edge of an orgasm.

“Please ohhhhh!” Dew’s just about shouting now, gnashing his teeth between sobs as Swiss fucks his brains out. “I’m gonna ohhhhh!”

Swiss growls, heavy and deep, when he blows his load inside him, fisting Dew’s cock as he paints his insides with his release.

He jacks Dew off through it all, feeling the way Dew tightens around him, sees the way the fire ghoul’s tight little sack draws up taut, seconds away from an orgasm.

From relief.

And then, at exactly the right moment, he uncurls his fingers and wrenches his fist away. He lets Dew’s dripping cock fall back between his legs, heavy and straining, so red that it’s almost purple at the tip.

Dew lets out a ragged cry at his ruined orgasm, tears spilling down his splotchy cheeks and soaking into the sheets as he chokes back sobs of frustration, desperately trying to hump his hips into nothing, chasing any sort of friction Swiss might grant him.

The multi-ghoul just laughs. And then he’s flipping him over so fast Dew’s head spins. He grabs him by the leg, fingers wrapped tight around one slim ankle and tugs him to the edge of the couch.

Dew’s chest heaves, choking out sobs between dragging in deep, shuddering breaths. Skinny little hips still humping at nothing as Swiss drags him around like a ragdoll.

“Please let me,” Dew is begging, sad little pleas between gasping cries and hiccups. “Swiss, please, I need to.. I…”

Swiss is still holding Dew’s leg in the air with one hand when he reaches in with the other to spread him open with two fingers, watching the entire mess flow out and pool between his cheeks, until it starts to puddle, leaving a dark, wet spot on the mattress.

“So pretty,” Swiss admires. “Made to be stuffed full of cock and filled with cum, aren’t you, firecracker?”

Dew looks up at him with wet, pleading eyes and nods.

Instead, Swiss just lets more cum dribble out, and then he’s running his fingers up Dew’s sticky, wet cleft and back down to his balls, still drawn up nice and tight. He pushes his fingers back inside, and feels how hot and wet and loose Dew is.

Dew squirms, tears streaming down his face in frustration as Swiss plays with his hole lazy and unhurried, agonizing in the way he just pushes the cum back up inside him and lets it all dribble out again. In and out, until he’s got his fingers coated and Dew’s entire body is shaking.

Swiss presses a kiss to Dew’s ankle before gently placing his leg back down on the couch and then he’s bringing his fingers to Dew’s lips, shiny and soaking wet with cum and slick and lube.

“Suck,” he commands, pressing his fingers between the fire ghoul’s lips.

Any other time and Dew would fight back, hissing and spitting and loving the challenge, but now, fucked loose and pliant, tears still streaming down his pretty face from his ruined orgasm, and he complies immediately. Opens up and lets Swiss pet at his soft, pink tongue with filthy fingers. He wraps his lips around them and sucks. Hollowing his cheeks and suckling until Swiss is satisfied and pulls them away nice and clean.

“He’s all yours now, Aeth,” Swiss says, looking down at Dew reverently, before stepping aside for Aether to finally take his place.

Aether steps in to gather Dew into his arms, smoothing big, warm hands over Dew’s shaking body, soothing him, leaning in to whisper sweet words of praise into his ear, quiet enough that they’re just for Dew to hear. He leans in close, tells Dew how proud he is, how good he’s been for them, how well he’d taken all of them. How good he was for welcoming Phantom properly into the pack.

Aether parts Dew’s legs gently, gets him spread open nice and wide one last time. He presses in and folds the smaller ghoul nearly in half, leaning in and kissing him, deep and loving, as he slides inside. There’s absolutely no resistance, Dew’s body wet and loose and full with everything the other ghouls have given him up.

Dew reaches up with shaky arms and wraps them around Aether’s neck, pulls him in as they kiss.

And Aether talks him through it, sweet words murmured against his lips. He tells him how good he tastes, how sweet. His perfect Dewdrop. He fucks him with long, slow strokes, reaching in so deep and feeling how wet and full his little mate is with their entire pack’s cum.

Dew groans into his mouth, squeezes his arms around his neck and pleads against his lips. Little whimpers of pleasure as Aether makes him feel so good. Proud to know he’d taken care of his pack so well.

Aether kisses him in time with each push, each thrust hitting deep and perfect, bringing Dew’s flagging erection back to full attention. He whispers more words of praise against the fire ghoul’s lips as he takes his cock in his hand and strokes. He jacks him off and tells him how good he is. His sweet baby boy. His love. His mate.

“Feel that, Dew” Aether asks as he bottoms out with a particularly deep thrust. “Feel how full you are inside?”

Dew nods, eyes closed and jaw slack as Aether fucks a litany of obscene, wet sounds out of him. With each push a little more of the mess inside Dew’s body dribbles out. Dew is stuffed so full that Aether’s cock is coated in it.

“That’s right, baby boy. Filled you all the way up, didn’t we? Oh, there’s so much inside you. That’s just how much we all love you, isn’t it, baby?

And that does it, Aether’s filthy, sweet words ring a surging orgasm out of him. Dew comes so hard on Aether’s cock he almost blacks out, his vision dark around the edges as he feels Aether spill hot inside him, adding one more load to the everything he’d already taken.

They kiss, breathing ragged into each other’s mouths as they come down, sweaty foreheads pressed together. For just a moment, it’s only the two of them.

And then Aether is taking Dew’s hand and guiding him down to feel where they’re connected, he presses the pads of Dew’s fingers against his own rim as he slips out. Lets him feel the hot gush of cum as he slides out, feel how hot and wet and completely fucked open his own little hole is.

Dew hums when Aether pulls away, satisfied and spent and boneless. He holds himself up on shaky elbows just long enough to see the way the rest of the pack is watching him with rapt attention before letting himself fall back to the pillows with a smug little smile tugging at his lips.

“Now,” Aether says, loud enough to pull everyone’s attention back to him.

“Who gets to eat him out first?”

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xoxochb · 22 days ago

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— we found wonderland ꣑ৎ‧₊˚.

★ - warnings: none pairing: percy jackson x daughter of hypnos

series m. list

It was an unnecessary thing, weddings. legally binding yourself with another human, vowing to stay by their side, remain loyal, to take care of them, and utter relentless responsibilities. and for what? most ended up divorced and broken, additionally what’s the point of it? you’re already in a relationship before so what’s the point of committing formally if you’re already committed to them? it’s beyond your capacity of understanding to get the idea of weddings. today, your mortal cousin had been getting married to a man you for sure knew laid with other women. if you outed this secret your mother would have you dead in a heartbeat, so you sit in a white lacy chair as you watch your dear cousin bind herself with the odious man, a smoldering glare veiling your face as she does so

“(name), darling, be happy for your cousin. clap for her” your mother says, clapping her hands together herself. she sends you a warning glance as you begin to slow clap with the same look on your face. as soon as the couple walks to the end of the aisle you arise from your seat, your mother stops you “where are you going?”

you turn around and cross your arms over your chest. “I’m going away. I wouldn’t wish to eat any cake or watch them open various presents, or entirely be here anymore. I will remove my miserable self from the event so you can all enjoy yourselves without me”

“go then. your presence has been an utter bother”

you leave mid sentence. to where? you’re unsure at the moment. you walk past lovely flower adorned gardens, shades of all colors, and at the end a hedge maze. you look up to the tall hedges. would getting lost be worth it? possibly. it would surely be much more exciting than the wedding. then, suddenly, a white figure appears in the corner of your eye, you turn to it and see large ears flying past the bushes. absentmindedly you run towards it, but only catch snippets as it passes corners. you chase after it until you lose your breath, for a moment stopping to catch it. when you feel ready you look around for the rabbit, but it’s nowhere in your line of sight. you frown and curiously walk around until you find a clue as to where he had gone

though nothing appears to you. that was, until you find a large hole in the corner between two hedges, you furrow your brows and kneel down to look inside. had the rabbit made its way underground? you lean your head in further to try and gain a closer look inside of the rabbit hole. bad idea. completely bad idea. you feel two small hands push you in from behind, causing you to fall head first into the hole. using your best attempt, you try to grab the top to stop yourself but your hands slip and you’re falling down. you scream, scratch that— tried to scream, though when you did there was no sound to be heard. had you even been screaming or was it your imagination?

as you fall deeper you take in your peculiar surroundings. this… was odd. the hole walls were a dark shade of crimson, covered in paintings, clocks, so many clocks, furniture, and random objects. what on earth is this? you flatten down your dress to assure it goes no higher than your upper thighs, just incase there had for some reason been some kind of pervert down here. when you finally reach the bottom you hit the checkered floor hardly, injuring your lower regions making you pout. you take in your new surroundings, the walls were light blue, a singular glass table in the middle, and a small ant sized door at the bottom of the wall. you walk towards the table, a small box atop it reading “look inside of me” okay… that’s weird

suddenly, a sharp pain arises in your foot, you yelp and back up, looking down to find a culprit. when you don’t see anything you crouch down and find a small, doll-like person… shouting? at you. they point to the top of the table to only what you could assume is the box you had seen. you reach up and grab it, settling it before the small boy. he points at the lock and then back up at the table, you sigh and take another glance, seeing a cordiform key placed on the table. you additionally grab that and open the box, revealing sweet pastries inside reading “eat me”. you take two, handing one to the boy and keeping the other for yourself. swiftly, he eats the whole pastry, you notice his size begins to rapidly grow until he reaches what you know as a regular human height

you don’t recognize him as anyone you know. he has dark, raven hair, sea green eyes you surely could drown in, and an admittedly attractive boyish smirk. many questions roam your mind but you ultimately decide on a simple one,

“who are you?” you say, standing back up

the boy mirrors your question, “who are you?”

“I’m-” you begin, “well… what’re you doing here? what is this place? how do I leave? I need to get back up!”

“you need to calm down”

“oh, you are an ass! I just fell from a rabbit hole and you want me to ‘calm down’? unbelievable”

the boy puts his hands on your shoulders. “I can explain everything to you but firstly you need to relax. sit down”

you obediently listen and sit criss crossed on the floor, the boy following your actions

“can I ask questions?” you inquire. the boy shrugs and beckons you to ask away “what is this place? and who are you? how long have you been here for?”

“first, I don’t know. second, perseus— percy jackson. third, I don’t know”

“so the only thing you know is your name?”

“yeah… well who are you?”

“(name) (last name), daughter of hyp-” you stop yourself. if this boy… percy was a mortal you weren’t allowed to reveal your godly paternity. the look on his face proves, however, that he’s knowing of it

“hypnos?”

holy shit “how do you…”

you don’t need to finish before he responds, “son of poseidon”

you ponder for a moment. this was all to simple. how was it possible that you, a demigod, fell into a rabbit hole and met another demigod? was this staged? where you purposely supposed to find this place?

“percy… this place isn’t right”

@childofthewargod @avianlily @wildesqdreams @spider-ghoul

#xoxochb #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo fandom #percy jackson #pjo #percy series #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jakson #riordan universe #riordanverse x reader #riordanverse

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queenpiranhadon · 4 months ago

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𝕬/𝕹: AHHH I'M SO HAPPY THIS EVENT CAME TOGETHER BIG THANK YOU TO ALL THE WRITERS IN THIS EVENT I LOVE YOU ALL SMMM 🤍 In case you couldn't tell, this is set in the world of Wonderland- though I've never read the books so please bear with me 😭 Here's the event masterlist for those who want to read the rest in the collection!

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌(𝖘): Cursing, mentions of death and decapitation, starvation, mentions of vomit but no physical vomit, Bakugou kisses you w/o consent BUT it's not bad I promise, soft Bakugou (maybe a little ooc but just bear with me here), incomplete plot, reader has a cat and a big family, reader is gender neutral but is written with f!reader in mind, Bakugou calls reader idiot.

𝕻𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Loneliness, you came to find out, was an enveloping emotion, overwhelming and suffocating with no way out- it was a feeling you’d come to hate.

Growing up in a big family, you were used to the neglect and isolation to a certain extent, but you never minded it. Now- you wanted to scream.

Though it wasn’t loneliness as the main issue so much as your impending death waiting for you outside of these cell bars.

It was cold, metal stinging your skin- you were starving, so nauseous you wanted to throw up, but you couldn’t, in fear you’d lose the little amount of food you already had.

How did you get here in the first place?!

It was a stupid question- you knew how you got here, but everything felt so…surreal. Like everything had happened, but not to you.

You had been at home, reading, before your cat and escaped the house again, prompting you to chase it. Watching your cat run down the street, you sprint after it, terrified of what may happen if a car comes down the road. In your tunnel vision however, you don’t notice the open manhole below you, and you fall, down,

down

Down a rabbit hole that seems endless, with the strangest assortment of objects and creatures floating around you, as if stuck in time. You reach the bottom, finding a hall of doors, your eye catching onto a small locked one whose key was on a nearby table - along with a bottle marked DRINK ME and a piece of cake labeled EAT ME.

At first, you panic, wondering where you are, tears threatening to spill over until you force yourself to take a deep breath and calm down.

You unlock the small door, only to see a beautiful garden on the inside, wanting to go see it, but annoyingly, you couldn’t fit through the door. Pocketing the tiny key, you rose up to your normal height, looking for a way to find an entrance- there must’ve been a way.

Eyes trailing back to the bottle and cake, you wonder if that’s how you’d enter. You had nothing to lose- there was no way back up the hole you’d fallen through.

But you didn’t feel like dying - on the off chance it was poison.

What would happen, you wondered, if you mixed the cake with the liquid?

You weren’t sure what would happen, maybe everything would explode - but then again, you really had no other choice. And so, you break the cake apart, and drop the pieces into the bottle, shaking it thoroughly, before bolting to the other end of the hallway.

There’s a rumbling, before the bottle explodes, glass shards sent flying everywhere as the liquid in the vial starts flowing out like a tap, the concoction you had made started pooling at your ankles, and then kept rising, to the point where you had to tread to keep your head afloat.

The waters slowly shift, the hall of mirrors and the landscape around you changing, until you find yourself swimming to a seashore. Everything made no sense, your reality warping and things that should happen were happening- you honestly just felt so dizzy.

You were traveling for days after that, looking for something to eat, until one day, you stumbled across some tarts, and in a moment of desperation, you ate them- as you were on the brink of dying from starvation.

What you didn’t know, is that those tarts belonged to the queen, the Queen of Hearts, and now you were facing execution for your trials.

Which is why now, in your cell, you sit- awaiting the end of your life.

You wonder how your cat is doing.

TIme was hard to keep track of, considering you had no window, and no interaction with anyone. They didn’t feed you, and you had no bed, leaving you to lie on the floor and stare at the ceiling.

You just wanted to go home…

One day however, you hear a sharp knock at the door to your cell and you jump abruptly, turning your head to find the source of the sound.

A man, with blonde hair and piercing red eyes stood at your door, his locks spiked and you could see the urgency in his expression.

“Oi, take this.” he whispers harshly, shoving a loaf of bread between the rungs of the cell’s gated wall and you take it gratefully, staring at him in shock.

“Who-” you start, but he’s already gone.

It went on like that for almost months, the strange man visiting you to bring you food every now and then, whether it be fresh bread, fruit, he even brought you cake once.

It was strange, you knew, but you greatly appreciated his kindness, you only wished he stuck around- you longed for some company.

And then one day, everything came crashing down.

The day of your execution.

A hooded figure came to your cell that morning with a sack for your head and ropes to bind you with. And at his side was the ax that you knew would be the one cutting through your neck.

You felt sick.

Was this all just some twisted, horrible nightmare?

The figure unlocks your cell door, and you curl up into a ball in the corner, knowing what was going to come. But the figure doesn’t leave from the door, instead, they lift a gloved hand to take down their hood- to reveal those same vermillion eyes that had provided you with food.

“Wha- it’s you?!” you blurt out, your eyes widening when you realize. “Y-You’re supposed to kill me, aren’t you…?”

The man doesn’t say anything, turning his head to the side, but his eyes end up trailing back to you, raking over your form and taking in your state.

“C’mon. We’re going.” the executioner says, holding out his hand - an offering, a chance.

You stare at it, unbelieving. Was this some cruel trick? Would he turn you in? But the look in his eyes was genuine, a man who was capable of kindness, but thrown into a world that he couldn’t show it.

That hand, the one he was extending to you, had been used to take the lives of people, living beings. You wondered if it ever got any easier.

You put your hand in his, and he pulls you up- but your malnourished body couldn’t support your weight immediately, and so you stumble, directly into the blonde’s arms.

“Ah, I’m so sorry I-” you fret, but he sighs, and adjusts your arms to lean on him.

“Just shut up idiot, yer gonna get us both caught.” he grumbles, and you wince at his harsh words, but know he’s right.

You both slip out of the cell, shutting the door quietly before sneaking down the hallway, where the man said there was a secret stairwell that led to the yard, where the both of you could hide until the coast was clear.

You reach it at the end of the hallway, only for you to hear footsteps at the end of the corridor.

Shit!

The man grabs you and bolts for a nearby room- but your feet can’t keep up - moment your enveloped by darkness, you lose your footing- about to fall over and let out a yelp before a pair of warm lips comes in contact with yours, keeping you quiet.

You couldn’t see- but you knew that if you did, your face would be bright red right now- put off by the fact that you weren’t disturbed by the stranger kissing you, and more the fact that you… liked it?

His strong arms were wrapped securely around your waist, preventing your fall, and you can’t help but melt into his touch.

Outside you hear voices.

“Hey- have you seen Bakugou? He was supposed to come to the throne room with the prisoner a while ago.” one asks.

“No… maybe we should check the prisoner’s cell.” the other one replies, and you hear the two men retreat.

The man, who you now know as Bakugou, pulls away, and wraps his hand around your wrist, pulling you out of the room and up the stairwell.

“Hurry.” he gruffly says, and you comply, dazed - still a hot mess from the kiss you shared.

The two of you ran up the stairwell, to freedom, trying to keep from your steps echoing throughout the castle.

Deciding to save both of your from the awkwardness, you don’t address the elephant in the room. Instead you ask something else.

“Why…why are you helping me?” your voice barely above a whisper.

Bakugou doesn’t stop running up the stairs though, only halting when he sees the top.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I…I don’t know.” he admits, looking away, giving you the opportunity to admire his side profile, taking notices of his ears which were tinged red.

“Are you- are you blushing?” you tease, and he glares at you.

“Shut up- idiot- is this how ya repay me?! I was supposed ta kill ya for heaven’s sake.” he glowered and you smile sheepishly in return.

“Sorry… I just…” you trail off, unsure of what to say. “Thank you.”

Bakugou’s eyes widen and he scoffs, his face becoming slightly redder as he wraps your arm around him, giving you more support.

“Whatever idiot- it’s not like I’m doing ya some charity here. I know ya don’t deserve this and frankly- the queen’s an old hag.”

His insult to the Queen of Hearts catches you off guard, bursting into quiet giggles - not noticing the small smile that forms on Bakugou’s face, though it disappears as quickly as it comes.

“We should probably get goin’ - they’ll be lookin’ for us soon.” he mutters, and you nod in assent stepping out into the yard, one step closer to freedom.

Hopefully your cat hasn’t run out of food yet.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @cashmoneyyysstuff @starieq @lovelyiida @lady-ashfade @angels-fantasy

@seonne @sweetnans @vexis-world @2melamoo2 @tootiecakes234

@4evapika

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thatonegenshinsimp · 2 years ago

Text

Cold Mornings with a Warm Lover (fem!reader NSFW)

Notes: I knew I’d eventually go down this rabbit hole at some point, and now you all finally get to see who (some of) my favorite men are. I feel like it got a bit redundant but I hope you enjoy~

Masterlist

Characters: Capitano, Thoma, Diluc, Childe, Alhaitham, Itto

Warnings: NSFW, fem!reader, badly translated Russian (sorry for any mistakes), unprotected sex, missionary, riding, squirting, marking, size kink, belly bulge, creampie

NSFW content below, Minors DNI! By scrolling down past this point, you have decided to read the content below of your own accord!

Capitano

You woke up slowly on mornings when there was no work to be done for Her Majesty at Zapolyarny Palace. This was one of those mornings, and you enjoyed them even more with your husband, Capitano. He was a very closed off individual, but not to you. He confided in you often, trusting you with the things that bothered him. He, regardless of how strong he was, was still merely human, and had needs of his own. You were the one who fulfilled those needs whenever he went to you. He couldn’t have been more grateful, and he showed you how grateful he was to you last night. You were waking up slowly now, and leaned against him for warmth when you felt the freezing air outside of the sheets. He stirred slightly, but didn’t wake up just yet. You smiled softly, snuggling up to him to get more body heat from him. After a few minutes, you heard him speak. “You’re freezing, come here.” He said, his deep morning voice serving to make you squeeze your thighs together as he pulled you closer and wrapped his arms around your waist and upper back. “Good morning, dearest.” He whispered, looking down at you as you leaned against him. His deep blue eyes peered down at you through barely opened lids, but he still smiled softly. “Good morning to you, too.” You replied, leaning into his touch as his hands gently caressed your skin.

He pulled back from you and looked you up and down, taking immediate notice of the slight bruises on your hips. “Apologies.” He whispered, leaning down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss as he pulled you up to where you were at his eye level. “Are you alright? I know I wasn’t very gentle with you last night.” He asked, reaching up to cup your face in one of his large hands. “I’m ok, please don’t worry about me. Last night was wonderful.” You reassured him, leaning into his touch as you pulled his face closer to yours and kissed him again. He balanced on his forearms and then sat up, exposing your bare body to the cold air and making you shiver. You curled in on yourself and wrapped your arms around your body, trembling from the cold. He immediately laid back down and was about to hold you again when he saw the red tint on your face and the way your thighs rubbed against each other. You looked to the side, embarrassed that he’d found you out, but immediately looked back at him when he put his hands on either side of your head and looked down at you, looming over you. His gaze was always gentle whenever it rested on you, and the same was still true now. You looked up at him as your face got even hotter. “Look at you, so needy.” He mused, before he spoke again. "May I?" He asked, causing you to nod softly. He pumped himself a few times before lining up his tip with your slit, dragging it over before he slowly pushed the blunt head past your entrance. Your eyes screwed shut as you took him in slowly, feeling him gently roll his hips against yours. You wrapped your arms around his middle, digging your nails into his back and leaving tiny red crescent moons in their wake. The moment he bottomed out, he stayed still, keeping his hips pressed against yours as he held your thighs down against the bed. “Good girl, taking me in one go like this. You deserve a reward for being so good for me last night.” You heard him say. “Do you think you deserve a reward?” He asked, causing you to look up at him with half lidded doe eyes as you spoke. “Y-yes, please- mmh~ I promise I’ll be good.” You moaned, looking down as you saw the outline of his cock almost going up to your bellybutton. “Ngh~ s-so full- ahh~!” You moaned, putting your hand over your mouth to muffle your noises, only for him to gently grab it and pin it beside your head. “You’re always so- shit- so good to me. Always taking care of me- Ngh~ Let me take care of you now.” He mumbled, his lips pressed against your neck as he spoke. You whined and clenched around him as you wrapped your legs loosely around his waist. Capitano gently traced your jaw with his hand, causing you to desperately lean into his touch as he kept going. You felt him, thick and heavy, dragging against your walls as red tinted his beautiful face. He pressed his forehead against yours as he started going faster, keeping a tight grip on your hips with one hand as he grunted softly. The other hand was busy drawing circles against your clit. The knot in your lower abdomen tightened as he kept hitting that one spot that made you see stars, chuckling as your eyes rolled back and you squeezed around him. “Mmngh~ m’ g-gonna cum- Ahhn~!” Your walls clenched around him tightly as his hips stuttered against yours. “That’s it, just let go, sweet thing. I’ll take care of you.” He groaned, his breath hitching as he twitched inside of you. With one last deep thrust, he buried himself deep inside of you and came, letting your gummy inner walls milk him for all he was worth.

You had tears in your eyes as you came down from your high slowly, relaxing in Capitano’s arms. “Th-thank you, mmm~ thank you s’much.” You mumbled, feeling him press his hips taut against yours. You jolted against him as he slowly pulled out, hissing softly from the sudden emptiness you felt. “Shh, stay still, I’ll clean you up.” He said, getting up and grabbing a warm washcloth from the bathroom. You laid there and let him clean you up, before relaxing against the mattress as he got back in the bed with you. “Rest, we’ll get up later.” He muttered, pulling you close to his chest and letting you lay against him as you sleepily nodded and closed your eyes, falling asleep in his warm embrace.

Thoma

There were few mornings when Thoma didn't have to head over to the Kamisato Estate early to tend to Ayato and Ayaka. He often left you to wake up alone, waiting for him to get back after doing your daily commissions for the Guild. Today, however, you woke up to his lovely green eyes looking at you as he held you close. "Good morning, my love. How are you?" he asked, watching as a soft smile appeared on your face at the sight of him. "What are you doing still here? shouldn't you be at the Estate by now?" you asked, suddenly concerned. "Nah, My Lord called off work for me today, and told me to enjoy the two week period of the Irodori Festival as I wished. I saw it fitting to spend at least the first day with my lovely wife." he said, leaning in and pressing his lips against your neck. "Thoma, stop, haha, your hair tickles." you laughed, causing him to smile against your neck as he kept kissing the soft skin. You threaded your fingers through his hair and gently pulled him back away from your neck. You then fell back against the mattress, panting as red tinted your cheeks.

You were about to say something, but your words caught in your throat as you looked up and saw the look he was giving you. His eyes were slightly wide, and had a sort of needy look in them, but he spoke again, anyway. "I was wondering what you wanted to do for the first day of the festival?" he asked, causing you to smile up at him. "I want you to keep me warm in this comfortable bed of ours." you said, starting to undress. You slipped off the pajamas you had on and sighed, before speaking again. "Because this bed has been very cold," you took off your underwear as you spoke, throwing them on the floor beside the bed, "without you here warming me up." you finished, watching as he scrambled to take off his nightclothes. He leaned in and kissed you gently, pouring his emotions into that kiss as his face went red. "Do you want this, though? I don't want to force you." he asked, his tone returning to gentle. You nodded softly. "Of course I do. It's you, and regardless of how many times you ask, I will almost always say yes." you replied, reaching up and cupping his face in your hands. "I love you, Thoma." you whispered, bringing him closer to where his tip was pressed against your entrance. You gasped softly when he slid in quickly, eyes going wide as he lifted your body before settling you on his lap. "That's it, jus' stay still, please. M'gonna cum if you keep sucking me in like this- hah~ s'good." he moaned, rocking into you to further stretch you out. He always kept you in mind whenever he made love to you in the morning like this. "Mmhng~ Thoma- hnn~ s'big- ah~!" you squealed when he reached down and rolled his thumb against your clit, drawing out those pretty noises he loved hearing you make. "Look at you. Have I ever told you how pretty you look under me like this?" he asked, pressing his lips against yours as he bottomed out with a groan. You moaned into his mouth, relaxing against his chest as you started to adjust to him. "You look so good taking me like this. I just wanna keep going and- ngh~ never stop." he grunted, bouncing you on his lap as you held onto his shoulders tightly. "Thoma, f-feel- mmnh~ feel you s-so deep. So deep inside- ahn~ me!" you yelped, noticing how his hips were stuttering against yours as he kept moving. "Yeah? It feels good? Do I make you feel good?" he asked, causing you to nod softly. After a few more minutes, you felt your orgasm hit you full force, making you tremble against his chest as you came. "Thoma, m'cumming, cumming- anhmm~!" you moaned loudly, hiding your face in his neck when he came with you. "There we go, nice and warm, just like you wanted, right?" he asked, watching as you nodded mindlessly. He felt you clenching around him and grinding your hips back into his, milking his cock for all it was worth, and he gladly held you against him, keeping your hips against his. He was always so gentle whenever he had to pull out, but instead, he stayed inside of you, hiding his face in your neck and kissing your soft skin. "Did I do good?" he asked, watching as you looked up at him and nodded. "Mhmm~ it felt s'good, still feels s'good. Don't pull out yet, please." you begged, looking up at him with pleading eyes as he looked back down at you. Thoma's face reddened as he buried his face in your hair and sighed.

"If you insist, my love."

Diluc

You woke up slowly next to your husband, watching as he stirred slightly in his sleep and pulled you close to him as he continued to sleep. Diluc mumbled your name sometimes in his sleep, which you adored very much. His hair tended to stick to his face, and got messy from him moving around a lot when he slept. However, he also had a tendency to sleep with almost nothing on, sometimes going to bed completely undressed, because his Vision made his body run warmer than most. You didn't complain about it though, you loved it whenever he held you close and warmed you up.

Diluc had gotten back late last night, and only had time to shower and dry himself off, before all but dragging himself to the bed and falling asleep next to you. He didn't have any work to do today or for the next two weeks, since it was the time for the Windblume Festival to arrive again. You had made a new pair of gloves for him after he wore out and tore his old ones, and planned to give them to him today, but after seeing him look so peaceful, you decided against waking him up. Unfortunately, he was a light sleeper, and soon peeked his red eyes open before catching sight of you awake in his arms. He often worked himself to the brink of collapse, but he always worked very hard, and you respected that very much. You loved that he wanted to help people, but sometimes, he put too much on the line for people you didn't think deserved his kindness, help, or his time. You were willing to admit that you were selfish in this regard, because if there was one thing you were always lacking, it was time with him.

"Good morning, my love, did you sleep well last night?" he asked, reaching for your hand and gently bringing it up to his lips. He gently kissed your knuckles, pulling you close to him as you giggled softly, a heartwarming sound to his ears. "I did, and you?" you asked, wrapping your arms around his neck and snuggling up to him as you shivered from the cold. "Are you cold? I'm sorry I didn't notice before now." he apologized, causing you to shake your head. "You can make it up to me by warming me up now." you proposed, intertwining your leg with his as you brought your hand up to gently cup his face. His cheeks burned red as he looked at you. You undressed and threw your nightclothes on the floor, pushing him onto his back as you spoke. "You've been working so hard, always attending to the needs of others, but what about yourself? You need to take care of yourself as well, Diluc. So, this morning is about you, since it is customary to give your lover something during the Windblume Festival. And I think that this is far better than any other gift you can give me." you said, leaning down and kissing him again. You pulled away and saw the way he was looking at you, his red eyes filled with pure love and adoration you knew he only ever held for you. "Please." he whispered, gently grabbing at your thighs as he spoke. "I could spend more time teasing you, but you've been through enough lately, haven't you?" you asked, causing him to nod. Diluc's grasp on your hip was firm when he slowly slid into you, his fingers reflexively digging into the skin slightly as he kept pressing into you. His grip only loosened when he was fully sheathed inside of your tight cunt, holding you close to him as you slowly adjusted to the stretch. "Mmh~ sorry if it hurts." he groaned, rolling his hips against yours as he dragged against your velvety walls. "Hah~ s-stay still. I'm the one- ah~ taking care of you here, remember- hnng~!" you moaned softly, balancing on your forearms as he looked at you. You slowly sat up and gently pressed your palms against his chest as you started bouncing on him. You rocked against him, feeling his tip hit your cervix and his shaft drag against your sweet spots. "Please let me- ngh~ let me help, I wanna make you feel good, too." he whispered, threading his fingers with yours as he thrusted his hips up to meet your bounces. You tightened around him, before nodding softly. He slowly sat up and pulled you close to his chest, his hands smoothing down your hips before he started moving them for you. He felt you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your lips against his as he twitched inside of you. "F-feels s'good, 'Luc, wanna stay like this with you forever. Feels s'deep- ahn~!" you cried out as he sped up, leaning in close and pressing his lips against your neck before biting down on the spot where your neck and shoulder met. He could feel you clamping down on him as his eyes rolled back slightly, but he refused to lose himself to pleasure just yet. He wanted you to cum first, and only then would he think of his own needs. Well, he did, until you spoke again. "Please stay in, lemme feel you inside, wanna feel you in my tummy- ahhng~!" you whined softly, before feeling him roll you over to where you were beneath him. He couldn't help the swell of satisfaction in his chest when the first few tears in your eyes fell, catching them with his thumbs as he kissed you. "As you wish, dearest." he whispered, watching as you shivered and sobbed his name when you came, trembling beneath him and squirting all over him. He came not too long after, pressing his hips as close as he possibly could to make sure none of his cum could slip out. "Shh, you did so good for me, dearest." he felt you start clenching around him, squeezing him tightly as your gooey walls milked him. "Hnn~ fuck you're always so good to me." he whispered, holding you close as you clung onto him. "Sweetest thing on the face of Teyvat is you, and nothing else." he whispered, a love-drunk smile on his face as he rolled over onto his back and kissed your lips.

This truly was the perfect morning.

Childe

Childe's eyes opened slowly as pale sunlight peeked through a crack in the curtains where they met, hitting his face directly as you slept soundly in his arms. Last night was a long one, and filled with his whispered declarations of love for you, and the noises of your lovemaking. Although he occasionally liked to play it rough, he hadn't been back in Snezhnaya for quite some time, and you'd missed him dearly while he was away. The only reason he was back was because of the preparations that had to be made for Signora's funeral, but he'd arrived back a few days earlier than anticipated, and that was fine by him. He was grateful for the extra time he got to spend with you now, and he was very willing to show it.

Childe was broken from his trance when he felt your body stir against his, looking down and seeing you open your eyes slowly to gaze up at him. "Ajax, you're still here." you breathed, pulling him close to kiss him. His lips slotted perfectly against yours, and you used the opportunity to push him onto his back and start streddling him. "What's the matter? Couldn't get enough of me last night?" he asked teasingly. You tangled your fingers in his ginger hair and tugged on it lightly as you kept kissing him. "I don't think I'll ever get enough of you." you whispered, causing him to smirk at you. "Careful, those are some dangerous words you're saying. I don't know if I'll be able to keep my hands off of you if you keep talking like that." he said, causing you to giggle softly. You leaned in and nibbled on his earlobe. "What if I don't want you to, hm?" you asked.

Your words flipped a switch in his brain that told him to pin you down and make you eat those words. "If you insist, lyubov'." he said. In an instant, he had flipped you over to where he was on top of you and you were on your stomach. "Tell me if it hurts, ok?" he asked, his voice suddenly much softer than it had been mere seconds ago. "Mhm." you hummed softly, before gasping when he slid two fingers into your wet cunt, scissoring them to stretch you out. "Ajax- ngh~!" you jolted slightly, your hips pushing back against his hand as you grinded your hips against his fingers. "That's it, just like that. I promise, I'll take good care of you, girlie, just leave it all to me." he said, adding another finger and curling them to hit your sweet spot as he leaned down and kissed your neck. "HAh~ please- nmm~ please lemme cum- ahH~!" you gripped the sheets and pleaded softly, causing him to huff in fake annoyance before he spoke. "Alright, I guess I'll let you." he said, moving his hand much faster now. Your grip on the sheets tightened as you got closer to your orgasm, a loud whine escaping your lips as you tightened around his fingers and came.

You were about to relax when you felt him pressed up against your entrance, and looked back at him to see that he was smirking. "Don't tell me you're tuckered out from just that. I still have to cum, and you did say that you didn't think you'd ever get enough of me. How about we test that, yeah?" he asked, causing you to nod softly as your face reddened. He slid in slowly, not wanting to cause you any unnecessary pain, and let himself rest against you as you adjusted to his size. "Tell me when I can- shit- when I can move, ok?" he asked, his deep cerulean eyes trained on you as you nodded, signifying that you'd heard him. You waited a few minutes before pushing your hips back against his, gasping softly as you clenched around him tightly. “Mnh~ Ajax, move please.” You begged, feeling him start to slowly move. He got back on his knees and rocked his hips against yours, his tip knocking up against your cervix as you whined and moaned softly. He leaned down and gently grabbed your hands, biting his lip as you melted into his touch. He reached down and grabbed one of your legs, tugging you against him as he grunted softly. You rolled your hips against his slowly, but he refused to let you move as he pinned you down and started moving. "I wanna take care of you, girlie, so don't move too much, ok?" he asked. You mindlessly nodded as he started fucking into you slowly, not wanting to ruin the peaceful atmosphere that the morning had given the two of you. "Mmm~ Such a good girl, yeah? Take it all, pretty thing." he whispered, his voice, deep and demanding, caused your sensitive body to shiver slightly. "Aww, is my pretty girlie still cold? Don't worry, I'll warm you up and make you feel nice and f-fuck- full." he groaned, his eyes rolling back as his spongy tip hit your cervix and caused you to clench around him. "I love it when you're like this, so- ngh~ soft and warm and- hnn~ tight. I just wanna stay inside of you forever- ah~!" he moaned, hitting the spots that made you see stars. "Ajax, m'gonna- ahhn~ m'gonna cum again- ahHNg~!" you buried your face in the sheets and wailed his name as you came. Ajax groaned loudly as he grabbed your hips and harshly tugged them against his, fucking you through your orgasm as you wrapped your legs around his waist. "Hnng~ You sure you want it inside- hAHn~?" he asked, causing you to look back at him and nod through teary eyes. "Mhmm~ Wanna be so full. Wan' you to fuck me f-full- nghaa~!" You were cut off by him shoving his cock deep inside of your fluttering cunt and cumming, rocking his hips against yours as he reached for your hands and held them in his own. "ahhnm~ Good girl, just like that. I can feel you milking me dry. Do you feel warm now?" he asked, his voice teasing as you huffed softly and buried your face in the sheets again. After a few more minutes, he rolled you over to face him and sat up with you in his arms. "Do you wanna get in the bath together?" he asked, causing you to nod softly. "Mhmm, stay with me, please?" you asked, causing him to nod. "Of course, lyubov', do you want me to clean you up?" he asked, receiving a soft nod from you in response. You watched as he sighed, nodding softly before he pulled out slowly. You sighed softly, hiding your face in his shoulder. "Ok, come on, you look exhausted." he said, picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom. He always took care of you, and you were oh so grateful for it this morning. "Perhaps we can have another round when you're up for it." he whispered, causing you to tense up against him as he dried you off. "Your choice, lyubov'." he whispered, laughing when you swatted at his chest as he laid down in bed with you once more. You relaxed in his arms and dozed lightly while he held you close to him, his head on top of yours as he dozed off with you.

Alhaitham

Alhaitham is a lazy individual in the morning, especially when said mornings consist of you. He didn't know he could fall so deeply in love with a person like you, but here he was, the morning after his one year wedding anniversary with you, laying beside you and blissfully naked. He reached out and brought you closer, wrapping you up in his arms and burying his face in your neck as you slept. This caused you to stir in your sleep, before opening your eyes as he kissed your neck repeatedly. "Careful, we might just have to continue last night if you keep doing that." you muttered, causing him to chuckle softly. He then pulled away from your neck and gazed down at your flushed face as he spoke, looking into your (E/C) eyes with all the love and adoration you think you've ever seen in anyone's gaze. "I love you." he whispered, caressing your cheek as you leaned into his touch. "Shouldn't you be getting up? I thought you had work today." you said. "I think the Akademiya can survive without me for a day." he muttered, hiding his face in your neck. "Mmh, but I thought that you had work." you observed, causing him to shake his head as you stretched. "Are you sure you want to get up? It's pretty cold this morning, you know." he looked at you as you huffed a laugh. "No it's not, this is Sumeru, and there's no way that it can get worse than the winters I've been through in the north. Here, I'll- shit- it's freezing!" you had thrown the covers off of yourself, but immediately bundled up under them again when you felt how cold it was. "Why is it so cold this morning? We're in a tropical climate, we should be sweating." you muttered, snuggling up against him. "Sweating from the heat or sweating from sex?" he asked, causing your face to redden as you glared at him. "Only kidding, unless that's an invitation to ravage you more than I did last night.” He said, bringing you closer to him and pressing his lips against yours. “Mmn~ only if you go slow this time. You were very rough last night.” you said, watching as Alhaitham’s eyes widened slightly. “Apologies, I didn’t know you didn’t like it.” He said, suddenly much quieter than before. “Oh, no, that’s not why I’m saying that. Last night was wonderful, I’m just saying that I’m still a bit sensitive is all.” you explained, causing him to nod. "Well, seeing as you're up for it." he said, gently pinning you down against the bed as he spoke. "We can stop if it gets to be too much for you, alright?" he asked, causing you to nod softly. "Ok." you mumbled.

His hips rolled against yours slowly as he lavished your neck with gentle kisses. You never thought him to be such a romantic before getting into a relationship with him, but then again, he was a man full of surprises. Alhaitham had his hands on your hips as he groaned softly, feeling your legs wrap around his waist as he rocked you against him. "HAh~ Mng~ right there- aHhn~ please, 'Haitham~" you whimpered softly, hiding your face in his shoulder. He looked down at you and linked his hands with yours, watching as you sighed softly against his neck and melted into his touch. You thrust your hips upwards against his, meeting his thrusts with the same force as he grunted softly. "You're making it really hard to- ngh~ to hold back, y'know." he murmured, sighing softly. "Nnh~ 'Haitham, s'big- ahhn~!" you were babbling praises at this point, unable to think straight from the overwhelming stimulation your body was receiving. "M'gonna- hnng~ AHhn~!" you locked your legs around his waist as he brought you closer to the edge. "Go ahead, let go, I've got you." he whispered, holding you close as you reached up and tangled your fingers in a mess of silver hair, dragging him down to press your lips against his as you came. He kept going, half lidded teal eyes gazing down into your own as he pressed his hips against yours. "Shh, s'alright, I've got you." he groaned softly as he came tumbling over the edge into bliss with you, holding you close as the two of you rode out your highs together. Alhaitham kept you close as he slowly came down, looking down at you as he spoke. "I'd say, personally, that I'm pretty warm now, what about you?" he asked, chuckling when you laughed softly. "You're the worst." you murmured, looking up at him. You put a hand against his chest and laid down on his chest, your breathing slowing slightly as you relaxed in his arms. "Yes, I'm much warmer than before." you mumbled sleepily. Just as you were about to fall asleep, you and Alhaitham heard someone banging on the door. He scowled as your face reddened from embarrassment, hiding your burning cheeks against the warmth of his chest as you both heard a voice on the other side of the door. "Hey, keep it down! I pulled an all-nighter last night, and I can't get a proper rest when all I can hear is the two of you going at it like rabbits! Keep it down next time!" Kaveh shouted. "If you don't like the noise, the streets are another option you could consider!" Alhaitham shot back, smirking when he heard his roommate's frustrated grumbles on the other side of the door. He settled down under the covers with you once again, looking at you and slowly falling back into the clutches of sleep as he pulled you close to his chest once again. After all, this all started because you were cold, right?

Arataki Itto

It usually got cold during Inazuma’s winters. You were very thankful for your lover for this reason. Itto was like a heater, warming you up quickly and keeping you warm to the point of overheating sometimes. At present, you were waking up after a long night of hanging out with him and the rest of the Arataki Gang. You were considered an honorary member, and the gang’s medic of sorts. Your Vision allowed you to heal people, which came as a great surprise to Genta and Mamoru. Akira and Shinobu and, of course, Itto, already knew. Regardless, you were sometimes left behind whenever they went into town, but Shinobu always promised that she’d make sure everyone was safe at the end of the day.

You slowly opened your eyes and rolled over, coming face to face with your sleeping boyfriend. He had an arm over your waist, his other arm serving as a sort of pillow for you. You knew it was numb from lack of circulation by now with how long you've probably been laying down on his arm, but he probably didn't care all that much. You slowly traced the red Oni markings on his chest, a habit you'd picked up after the many times he'd fallen asleep shirtless next to you, which still happened quite often. You pushed yourself up onto your forearms and sat up, shivering and immediately getting back under the covers when the cold hit your skin. Your movements woke up your boyfriend, whose eyes cracked open and caught sight of you shivering. "Hey, what's goin' on? Are you cold?" he asked, his raspy morning voice hitting your ears and causing you to laugh. "C'mere, I'll warm you up." he offered, pulling you close and wrapping his arms around you as you spoke. "With how warm you are, I should tell everyone to call you Arataki Heat-o, since you're so warm." you mumbled, giggling as you rested your head on his chest. He huffed, poking your cheek before rolling over and pinning you down against the bed as he spoke. "You makin' fun of me? Huh?" he asked, staring you down. He had yet to notice his knee between your legs, or the fact that in this position, you were completely at his mercy with your wrists pinned over your head. It was only when your face reddened and you shuddered under his gaze that he noticed what was going through your mind. "Ohoho, so that's what's going on in that pretty little head of yours, is it, sweetheart? Is that how you wanna be warmed up?" he asked, causing you to look to the side to try and hide your embarrassment. "Hey, what's got you lookin' away all of a sudden? Look at me." he coaxed, smiling down at you when you nervously looked back up at him. You could tell he wanted you just by looking at him, his gaze almost carnal as he stared you down like a feast for a man starved. "Say it, sweetheart, just say the word, and I'll make you feel so good, I promise. You can even nod if you want to." he whispered, pressing his lips hotly against your neck. Your face heated up as he spoke, his gaze intense as he stared at you, but you nodded wordlessly, telling him what he needed to know.

"You wanna take it slow this morning?" he asked, causing you to nod again. "Alright, we can do that." he reassured you, cupping your face with one of his hands. "I wanna make sure you feel good." he muttered. Usually, outside of the bedroom, he was the center of attention, with all eyes on him and all heads turned in his direction. That all changed when it came to you. He wanted to please and praise you, and he would make everything about you if he could. This was one of the things he usually made about you, and you were happy to oblige his wishes so long as his requests of you in return weren't too outlandish. Itto pulled back and slid his sweatpants off, throwing them on the floor before moving on to help you undress. He threw your nightclothes and undergarments on the floor before leaning down and kissing you, sliding his warm palms up the expanse of your thighs. He lightly dug his nails into your skin, kissing from your lips to the curve of your jaw and down your neck. Your breath hitched and a quiet gasp fell from your lips at the sensation of his sharp fangs digging into the skin of your shoulder as he bit down. He sucked at the skin and left several more bite marks all over your chest. He spread your legs and dragged himself over your slit, causing you to shiver. “You ready, pretty girl?” He asked, receiving a nod in response as you reached up and grabbed his shoulders. “Mhmm~” you hummed, tensing up as he slowly pushed the tip in. He kept you pinned down against the bed as he rocked his hips against yours, panting softly. “Hnn~ it h-hurts.” You whined, reaching up and tangling your fingers in his hair. You tugged at the white strands when he went deeper, yelping softly as his tip grazed against your cervix. He bottomed out after a few minutes, groaning softly as he kept himself still. You pulled him down and pressed your lips against his, tilting your head to the side slightly. He waited for you to adjust, slowly rolling his hips against yours once he was sure you would be alright. “Look at you, pretty girl, you’re s’good for me. Jus’ keep takin’ me like this, please.” He whispered, his sharp nails digging into your hips as he started to slowly thrust into you. He let go of your hips as he pressed his forehead against yours, sliding his hands up to hold yours. “Ahh~ mngh~ Itto, please- nnm~!” He grabbed one of your legs and lifted it over his shoulder, giving him access to a deeper angle. His tip bumped up against your cervix as your back arched and you pressed your body against his. Itto held you still by keeping a firm grip on your leg, reaching down with his now free hand to pinch and roll your nipples between his fingers. “Does it feel good? I wanna make sure you feel good, because you make me feel s’good all the time.” He slurred, chuckling softly as you wrapped your other leg around his waist. “You gettin’ close?” He asked, twitching inside of you as you slowly lifted your hips to meet his thrusts. “Mhmm~ please, in, I wanna feel you inside, please.” You whimpered. He looked down at you and noticed the desperate look in your eyes, before gently cupping your face in his hand. “You want me to fill you up? Want me to fuck you full, sweetheart?” He asked, smiling softly as you nodded. He bit his lip and picked up the pace of his thrusts, holding you down as he got closer to his orgasm. “Th-thank you, mmm~ love you s’much- AHhng~ Itto- Hnn~!” You wailed his name as your orgasm hit you full force, shaking against his bed as you came. “Shh, shh, take it jus’ like that, you did so good for me.” He muttered, pressing his hips tightly against yours. You wrapped your leg around his waist and your arms around his neck, kissing him again as he fucked you through your high. He groaned loudly against your mouth as he jerked his hips against yours, pulling away and hiding his face in your neck as he sank his teeth into your skin again. “Mmnh~ good girl, squeezin’ me so- fuck- s’good. You did s’good for me.” He mumbled, wrapping your arms around you as he held you close.

Itto rolled over onto his back, sighing softly as he relaxed. You all but collapsed onto him, leaning against him for support. After a few minutes, he spoke. “Are you alright? Sorry, I kinda got carried away.” He chuckled softly, resting his hand on your upper back. “I’m alright.” You whispered, looking up at him. “You want me to clean you up?” He asked, bracing himself on his forearms. You nodded, whining softly as he slowly pulled out. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” He said, getting up and going to the bathroom to grab a warm damp washcloth to wipe you down with. He cleaned you up slowly, making sure to be as gentle as he could, before putting the washcloth in the bathroom and joining you back in bed. “Lemme hold you for a bit, then we can get up in a little while, ok?” He asked. “Ok, I love you.” You whispered. “Love you, too, sweetheart.” He replied, closing his eyes as he fell asleep.

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