#you are a good anon my favourite even perhaps

[nombitenary]

Stoner pred ey?

How about we both get baked and well just have to see later whether or not I'll be included with the pile of food I got for the muchies.

oh i Like you hello...

I think I'd try very hard not to go for you. Though I think. if it didn't cross my mind, you wouldn't be in danger, but knowing the way I get when I'm high... oh the second I catch your scent, I'm drooling, thinking about your accompanying taste, your wriggles, how nicely you'd fit down my throat...

I barely realize how intensely I'm staring at you until you're asking me if I'm good. Of course I tell you I am.

My stomach growls as if it's calling me a liar.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!! 🥳🎈🎂🎁

“What if I kissed you right now? Would you stop me?" with Kid (fem!reader, NSFW) pretty please? <3

Hello, anon! Thank you for the birthday wishes (it feels weird still thanking birthday wishes when it's been more than a month!). Thank you so much for your request, it turned out to be one of my favourites! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writting it!

Art: Here; Artist: @wesaier (pleeeease follow, such amazing art!)

Reverence 🔞

Word Count: 6302

Tags: Fem!Reader; Alternate Universe - Modern Setting; Kid has both arms; Posessive!Kid; Soft!Kid; Reverent!Kid; Fluff and Romance; Love Confessions; Body Worship; Just Worship in general; NSFW; MDNI; Fingering; Vaginal Penetration; Oops, no protection (wrap it up, peeps);

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: You and Kid are neighbours and very good friends. You flirt a lot, all in good fun, obviously, and he makes fun of every single one of your loser dates. When the last date goes south and you call Kid for help, will your relationship blosom into something else?

|Masterlist|

The clock’s nearly at the hour, but you're almost ready anyway, just some finishing touches on your hair and makeup, and you'll be done. “I look hot.” You say as a pep talk to your reflection and do a little twirl. Hot dress, nice makeup, perfect hair, you're ready for a nice date in town. 

And you're more than ready for it to end up with a nice, hot lay. Third-date rule be damned to hell. You've been in the longest dry spell since forever, and your toys aren't quite cutting it at the moment, but the dating scene isn't really offering the best choice of male specimens around. Maybe this time you'll get lucky. 

Just as the clock turns to the hour, the doorbell rings. You give yourself one last nod before heading out of the bathroom and opening the door with a bright smile. One that immediately falls at the sight that greets you. 

“Kid?”

“Well, well, well. Look at ye, all dolled up for a night in town? Another one of yer charity cases ye insist on callin’ dates?”

A twitch of a smile tugs at the corner of your lips, but you don't fully smile, instead you cock your head to the side and place a hand on your hip. “Hey, at least I get out of the house, you big hermit.” 

You’ve known Kid for almost a year, since you moved into the building. He looks menacing and gruff with all his ear piercings, huge size, and spiky red hair, but you suspect he's a big softie on the inside. You and he flirt and banter like there's no tomorrow and, admittedly, he's been the star of a few of your fantasies, but neither of you has decided to take things further. Perhaps because living in the same building has every chance of making it awkward if things go wrong. Still, you're good friends. 

He owns a mechanic’s garage and has saved your ass more times than you can count. Be it because of car troubles, leaking faucets, or visiting snakes - yes, that’s happened. He’s always there for you, and he’s the first person you go to when you’re in trouble. You have thought of him with more fondness than you would for a normal friend, but just like you two never pushed the limits of your friendship for sex, you wouldn’t even consider bending them for romantic involvement. 

“What are ye yappin’ about? I just got in! Been working till now.”

He moves past you and makes himself comfortable on your couch, manspreading while you search around for the perfect pair of heels to complement your dress. 

“All work and no play, Kid? No wonder you're no fun. Hey, do these work?” You strut around in the highest pair of heels you own, ones that make your legs go on for days. Kid's eyes follow you around as he focuses on your shoes, then his eyes follow your legs, bum - you give him a few poses so he can judge - chest, and finally settles on your face. His eyes seem darker, and there's no hint of his usual smirk on his lips. 

Clearing his throat, he averts his gaze with just the barest flush on his cheeks. “They work alright. Maybe too good.” He mutters. “Who’s the asshole?” Kid checks his watch and grins. “He's already ten minutes late, are you sure he's worth it? Don't even put up the effort.”

“Maybe he got lost?” You try, with a heavy sigh. It’s a setup date. A work friend's cousin or something like that. He's hot, and today that's all that really matters. 

“Aye, aye. Ye do know how to pick’em. Ye always choose the random losers to go out on dates.” He lets out a loud, barking laugh. “I told ye before, I’ll say it again: ye don’t need to leave the building if ye want company. I’m right here, lass.”

His cocky smirk is endearing, and that familiar warmth that comes from his flirting and all the attention he spares you always manages to make you smile like a silly little girl, but just before you manage to answer him, the doorbell rings again

“Oh, it's him. Kid, get out.” Kid sighs and gets up, standing behind you with an intimidating stance as you open the door. “Hi! I was afraid you weren't going to show up.” You try to lighten the mood with a small giggle, and Kid mutters something behind you. Your date smiles widely, barely notices Kid, and openly stares at you, taking you in head to toe. 

“Well, the photo my cousin showed does not do you justice. Had I known, I would've come faster.” Oh, God. Is he really going to be just another asshole? You can already feel it. 

Kid growls behind you and steps out of your apartment, making sure your date acknowledges his presence now, but you continue speaking, trying to defuse the situation. “This is my friend, Kid. He was just leaving.” You emphasise the last words and raise your brows at Kid, who merely grunts. “Shall we go?”

“Oi, lass, better take a coat, no?” Kid’s scowl deepens as he gives you another once-over, clearly catching all the ogling your date is giving you. 

“Don't worry, friend, I'll make sure she stays warm.” 

And before Kid says - or does - anything to your date before it even has the chance to start, you push him down the hallway so he can go to his house. “Bye, Kid. Don't wait up.”

-*-

The date sucks. Your date is obnoxious, self-centred, arrogant, and a downright prick. By dessert, you're dying to go home. His conversations are dull, and he barely lets you speak, instead filling every opportunity with something remarkable about himself. 

Plus, he makes you split the bill. 

When you make it outside the restaurant, he sets his hand on your lower back, and you warm a bit, thinking he's about to pull you close and trade places with you, obeying the sidewalk rule like a gentleman. Instead, the prick gropes your ass. 

“Can you just take me home?” You grunt, clearly over this date, so he leads you to his car. 

-*-

Kid keeps tossing and turning in his bed. He needs to sleep. He has to get up early in the morning. But you're still not home. He doesn't mean to pry, but he always hears the soft clicks of your heels in the hallway and the setting of your lock in place when you enter your home. Only when he hears those sounds can he rest at ease. If not, he keeps wondering if you're alright, if you're hurt, if your prick of a date tried something, or worse… if you actually liked him and he's going to have to get used to seeing you with some other man who’s not him. 

A heavy sigh parts his lips, and he's wondering if he'll be able to get up in the morning if he indulges in a few glasses of scotch. He's considering taking his chances when his phone rings. It's you. Kid’s heart skips a beat, his head immediately considering all the possible wrong things that may have happened as he presses the green button to take your call. 

“Lass?” 

“Kid, thank God you're awake. My date's car broke down. Can you come and… fix it?”

What the fuck? 

“No! It's almost midnight, I'm not going there to fix his car so ye two can get laid. Grab a cab!” 

He's actually pissed you called just for that. Like he gives two shits about helping the asshole get laid. With you! 

“Kid… please, can you come?” Except there's something else in your voice, a vulnerability he's never heard before, almost as if you're scared of something, on edge. 

Has the bastard done something to you? 

“Send me yer location. Now.” He gets dressed in the blink of an eye, packing his pocket knife before leaving the house. 

-*-

You're so cold. No, that's putting it lightly, it literally feels like you're stranded in the North Pole. You should've just brought a jacket like Kid said. But then again, how could you have guessed you'd be standing in the gusting wind with nothing but your skimpy dress on? You were supposed to be inside a restaurant, then the car, and then, if everything went well, your house and your bed. 

But now, your date is inside the car with a bloody - probably broken - nose, cursing you, and you're outside with your pepper spray ready in hand in case the asshole tries anything else. 

After what feels like forever, you hear the loud rumbling of Kid's motorcycle and let out the biggest sigh of relief ever. Seconds later the headlights of his Harley Davidson shine on the curb and he stops the bike in front of you. As soon as he steps out and removes his helmet, his usual scowl turns into a full frown, teeth baring as he glances from you, to your hand, and to your prick of a date. Without a word, he removes his leather jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, helping you pass your arms through the sleeves. While he's zipping it up, he growls. “What the fuck happened?”

Still shivering, you sigh into the warmth of the jacket, inhaling Kid's familiar scent: metal, gasoline, and something musky that feels like home. Then you shrug and pout. “He got handsy. I don't like liberties, so I punched him.”

You can see Kid fighting off an amused smirk. “Ye broke his nose?”

“Just a little.” You whine. 

Kid looks at you, chin up and a full smirk on his lips now. Then he pats your head. “That's my girl.”

Just on cue, the asshole opens up his car door, and Kid grins at the sight. The prick’s eyes are already darkening with bruises, his nose looks crooked, and there are blood splatters all over him. 

“You the mechanic? Figured.” He scoffs. “Fix my car, then! I want to get out of here and away from that crazy bitch.”

You flinch and shake your head. That was a wrong move. If he thinks you're crazy, he's about to get a dose of Eustass Kid he won't forget. 

“Kid, there’s no need to hurt him anymore. I don’t want him to call the cops.”

Kid chuckles low, reaches into his pocket, and takes out his trusted pocket knife, twirling it in his hand like a toy. “Listen here, buddy.” Kid pins the man to his car with a mere look. The poor bloke nearly trips over his feet just to gain some distance. “When ye get home tonight, yer going to say a little prayer to whatever angel’s watchin’ over you, because if the lady - not a crazy bitch, ye asshole - didn't tell me not to hurt ye, ye’d leave here with a lot more than just a broken nose.” Kid laughs some more as he pulls back. “But I'll fix yer car, I'll fix it up real good.”

Popping the hood open, Kid starts cutting wires with his knife. You don't know shit about mechanics, but you’re pretty sure that cutting those wires isn’t going to make the car start. 

“Hey, hey! What are you doing? You're not fixing it!”

“No?” Kid closes the hood, drags the pocket knife along the side of the car, and slashes two tires. “Oops. Maybe I'm just not a very good mechanic.” Kid rounds the car and slashes the other two tires, stopping in front of the prick again. “But I'm not that bad. I'm goin’ to give ya two options, ye arse. One, ye stay in yer car ‘till mornin’ and try to get a tow to collect this piece of junk. Two, ye start walkin’ and pray you reach town by mornin’.”

“What?” The man asks, eyes wide and scared. 

“Oh, the important part. I'll be callin’ every shop around so they can refuse ye service, but they only open in the mornin’. So if ye want yer car fixed, better start walkin’ and pray ye reach a shop before I call ‘em.” 

“But, but… we're in the middle of nowhere! It'll take all night to get to town!” He whines, a trickle of blood still dripping from his crooked nose. “And I'm hurt!”

Kid leans in, his scowling face almost on top of the asshole, and you revel at the way he cowers in fear. “Should've thought of that before ye groped a feel, aye, bastard?” Then Kid pulls his fist back, and the man screams, but Kid just laughs at his cowardice, turns his back to him, and pockets his knife. “I'd start walkin’ if I were ye.”

You smirk as you hear the car lock and watch your failed date’s retreating form. 

“Thanks, Kid.” Your words are a mere mumble. You don't really want to admit that you should've just stayed home, like Kid told you to. But he merely grunts as he walks to his bike, plucking his helmet from the handlebars and placing it over your head with a soft pat. 

“Aye, lass.” His thick fingers reach beneath the helmet, grazing your skin as he fastens the strap tightly to fit your smaller head. The fierceness of his bronze gaze as he stares through the open visor makes you shiver for reasons that have nothing to do with the cold. With another grunt and a muffled curse, he hooks two fingers under the helmet and pulls you close, making you stumble and face him with wide-open eyes. “No more asshole dates. Got it?” His gaze burns into yours, and you nod just before he slams your visor down and lets go of the helmet. “Let's get out of here.”

As soon as he turns on the bike, revving the engine, you feel hot tears stream down your cheeks. You were acting tough and badass, but things could've gone terribly wrong tonight. You could've frozen instead of punching him; he could've manhandled you and forced you into whatever he wanted; instead of a bruised up ego, you could've ended up much worse. Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, you can’t seem to keep the tears away.

No one will see you cry anyway.

So you wrap your arms tight around Kid, your knees pressing into his sides as you fix your feet on the pegs. You're safe now. Kid has always brought you a sense of safety, even though you never really needed it before. That's why you called him tonight, not because he's a mechanic, but because you needed him. Not even to take care of the guy - you certainly did that - but just knowing he would come if you asked… that's everything. 

The ride is long until you get home, so you can cry it all out now. He won't notice.  

Except he does notice, because his big hand wraps around your knee, squeezing tightly and caressing it after. The soft gesture only makes you sob harder, so you hold him even tighter. 

You notice his heavy scowl when he tilts his head back. “Ye alright there, lass?” You try to speak, but if you open your mouth, you know that you'll only sob, so you just squeeze him tighter. Kid grunts and, after a moment, he slows down the bike and turns onto a smaller road, driving you to a secluded clearing surrounded by trees. 

As soon as the bike stops, you scramble to get off, unzip the jacket, leaving it open and fumble with the helmet strap, your fingers shaking like leaves. “Oi, oi, calm down, lass.” His fingers move swiftly as he helps you unstrap the helmet and sets it on the handlebars. “What's wrong?”

You shake your head, swallowing tears and wiping your face clean. Kid reaches out, hand in the air as he tries to cup your cheek, but you take a step back and bite your lower lip, stifling another sob. “I’m fine.” You mutter without meeting his gaze. Your voice wavers on the words, and you sound weak. “It’s nothing. I don’t need coddling.”

Kid scoffs slightly, his eyebrow raising as he takes a step back, giving you the space you clearly need. “Yer shakin’ like a damned leaf. Don’t need to act tough. It’s just me here.” The softness beneath his rough tone makes you want to cry harder, so you just nod. “Yer tough as steel, lass, I know that. But even steel gets bent now and then. And it's okay.”

Another tear escapes your eyes, and you swipe the sleeve of Kid’s jacket against your face, angrily, your shoulders squaring as you raise your chin, a humourless laugh escaping your lips, even though your eyes don’t meet his. “I guess I should’ve listened to you, huh? You kept telling me not to bother with random losers who don’t deserve me… and yet… I didn't listen.”

Your words carry all the weight of the world in them. Unspoken possibilities of ignored ‘what ifs’. If you had listened to Kid, would you feel less vulnerable? If you hadn’t dressed so provocatively, would the asshole still have tried something?

“Don’t go there, lass. Ye don’t gotta blame yerself for the actions of an arse.” His fingers inch forward, flexing and grasping at the air, like he wants to hold you or comfort you. Like he means to put your broken pieces back together so he can fix you. “Ye didn’t do anythin’ wrong.”

“But what if I did?” You ask, exasperated, arms stretching wide as a hiccup fights its way up your throat. “He said so himself: ��why are you denying me when you’re dressed like a slut? It’s like you’re asking for it!’ So what if I was? Asking for it? What if I had dressed–..”

“No!” Kid walks forward, his hands cupping your face so you finally look at him. “Ye weren’t asking for anythin’. If he can’t keep it in his pants, that’s on him. Not ye.” Kid nearly growls, you can almost feel the anger seething through his pores. It’s almost as if he’s weighing getting back on the bike and finding your date to hurt him. 

You step back, breaking contact again. “But what if I froze, Kid? What if I didn’t have it in me to punch him? To push him? It all happened so fast… I could’ve done something different, I–...”

“Ye did what ye had to do. Yer strong as fuck, and ye showed him that. I don’t think that nose is ever gonna heal straight.” Kid cocks his head and shoves your shoulder playfully, trying to distract you. “Ye got a mean hook.”

A semblance of a laugh leaves your lips, and you turn your hand into a fist, swinging it in the air. “Yeah, I know. I locked it all the way back like this, and then… Bam! Right on the nose!” You swing straight for Kid, trying to alleviate the tension.

He barks a laugh and grabs your wrist mid-air, stopping your swing. “So strong, lass. If I were a fly, I’d be dead right now.” You chuckle, and some of the dread from before leaves your chest. Kid’s eyes fall on your bruised knuckles, and they soften. “It was a shite situation ye were put in. It was not yer fault. There was nothin’ ye could’ve done different, got it?” He gently kisses your knuckles before caressing them with his thumb.

“I just… I… God, this is so stupid.” You let out a frustrated sigh. “I’m lonely, Kid. It’s stupid, and I know it. I don’t need a man to be fulfilled, but I am. I’m lonely.” Shaking your head, you remove your hand from his grip and hide your face in your hands. 

“Lonely?” Kid repeats your words, his voice rougher again. “What do ye mean? Ye got me, aye?”

Your laugh strikes suddenly, mirthful at first, then simmering down to a resigned smile. “That’s what you said. You told me I didn’t even need to leave the building if I wanted company.”

He smirks and takes a step closer to you. “Exactly. But I didn’t mean it like ye don’t deserve the world, lass. I meant it like… like I can be the one to give ye that world, if ye let me.” His cheeks flush a bit red, his voice is still rough, but his eyes are filled with gentleness.

Your gaze meets his again, and you blink several times. He’s looking at you like nothing else matters in the world. Almost as if you and he are the only important thing happening right now and you have the distinct feeling that if there were a war raging around you, you would still be the only thing that mattered to him. 

“Tell me, lass. What if I kissed ye right now, hm?” His hands grab yours, his calloused thumb tracing circles on your knuckles. “Would ye stop me?”

What?

Your chest heaves with heavy breaths as your heart hammers away. You don’t want to stop him at all. You want him. You’ve wanted him for a while, and your tired brain tells you that maybe that’s why none of your dates worked. Because, unconsciously, they were not the ones your heart and body craved.

Your eyes soften as you take another step closer to Kid. “Why don’t you give it a try?” The whispered words are a promise of compliance, and Kid lets out a shaky growl before leaning down and taking your lips in his. His hand finds your neck, and he entwines his fingers through your locks, his mouth claiming yours as his other hand finds your waist and pulls you closer.

You sigh into the kiss, clenching his shirt with your hands, moulding yourself into his body like he’s your lifeline. This is all you’ve ever wanted, and you can’t even begin to fathom why you thought this was crossing a line. 

Breathless, you both pull back while Kid’s hands cup your cheeks, his gaze never leaving yours. “Kid… I want more.” You plead, your nails digging into his muscular chest.

“Ye sure, lass?” The roughness in his voice tells you he’s as overwhelmed as you are. “Because if I start, I’m not gonna want to stop.”

The words make your stomach flip, and you grin, grabbing his shirt and pulling him closer to you. “I don’t want you to stop.” Then his lips are on yours again. The kiss is more urgent, fiery, and hungry. His hands roam your sides, settling on your hips and pulling you impossibly closer. He pulls back a smidge, breaths still mingling as he kisses his way down your jawline, his hand settling on your neck and tilting it to the side for better access. 

“All this time watchin’ ye leave the apartment to go on dates with losers.” Kid nibbles your neck and sucks, pulling a mewl from your lips. “Knowin’ they’d never treat ye right, like ye deserve. None of them knew what a gem ye are.” Another lick and bite on the curve of your neck makes you gasp and roll your eyes, your arms wandering up and holding Kid by his neck.

With a quick pull, Kid lifts you off the ground, and you wrap your legs around his waist, feeling your dress ride up with the action, not caring one bit. He backtracks you to the bike and sets you sideways on the seat. As you fix your stare on his fiery eyes, all you can see is hunger and devotion, and that sends a thrill through your spine.

“I only want you, Kid.” You pull him down again, allowing him to take your tongue in his with languid strokes of passion. His fingers trace your collarbone and slither beneath the jacket to your shoulders. With a tug, he pulls the jacket off, and you shimmy out of the fabric, leaving your arms bare for him to caress. 

“Damn right. I know how to treat ye right. Ye’ll see. Fuckin’ losers. Night after night, agonisin’ when ye’d choose one to be yer boyfriend.” He growls near your ear, his fingers never stopping their silent worship on your body, lighting fires with each stroke and igniting a heat between your thighs that starts to demand attention. He pulls back for a moment, placing his thumb and forefinger on your chin, tilting it up so you can meet his eyes through the fog of desire that clouds them. 

“Five.”

“What?” You ask, still dazed, your body tingling from all the kisses and touches he’s laying on you.

“I watched ye go out with five losers this month alone.” Five? You can barely remember three, that’s how unmemorable they were. Kid leans in, brushing your ear with his lips, his other hand travelling to your nipple and toying with it through the fabric, making you suck in a breath. “That’s how many times ye’ll come for me tonight, lass. To make sure ye forget those losers.”

Five times?

“Kid, I–...” You begin, but he cuts your rambling with another soul-shattering kiss, his hands plucking your breast from the confines of your skimpy dress and fully groping it. Instinctively, you buck your hips against him, trying to grind him or feel some friction, anything. 

“Calm down, lass. We have plenty of time. I’m not gonna rush anythin’. I told ye, I’m gonna treat ye right.” He lowers his lips, tracing a line of kisses from your neck to your collarbone, and then he takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking and twirling it against his teeth, pulling a deep moan from your lips. “Fuck, ye sound better than I ever imagined.”

Kid lets go of you and climbs onto the seat of the bike. You’re about to turn to him, but he turns you around, making you face the handles of the bike, your back flush against his chest. Then he spreads your legs open, placing them over his thighs. You shiver when the cold wind hits your sensitive spot, your panties already soaked through. “Lean back, lass.” 

Breathing faster and faster from anticipation, you melt against him, feeling his taut muscles ripple against your back. Your dress has ridden all the way to your hips, baring your legs to him and leaving you exposed. Kid uses one hand to tease your nipple while still kissing your neck and the curve of your shoulder. Then his other hand, traces the inside of your thigh, creeping closer to your core, making you gasp and hold your breath in want and need. 

“Kid!” Your plea is evident, but you know he’s going to take his time with you. Everything about the situation has you on edge already. The powerful feel of his bike beneath you, his strong muscular frame enveloping you, his fingers hovering just near your entrance.

“So perfect, look at ye. See how well ye fit against me? Like ye were made just for me?” His fingers trace your slit over the panties, testing and teasing. “See? All wet and ready for what I have to give to ye. I can be all ye ever want, lass. Just let me.”

“Yes, Kid, please. I want you to.” His scent is intoxicating. It clings to you like a second skin, enveloping you in safety, warmth, and so much desire. 

With a desperate grunt, Kid shifts your panties and plunges one digit inside your slit, turning your plea into a wanton moan as you arch your back, your hands finding purchase against his muscular thighs. 

“So wet for me. Look at ye. I want to hear you scream my name, lass. Every time I make you come, yer gonna scream my name. Yer mine now. I’m never gonna let ye go.” He inserts another finger, his palm stroking and pressing your clit, and damn it if you’re not just there at the edge, ready to come undone for him. “It’s like I’ve known yer body all my life. I know how to make ye feel good, aye?”

“Yes, Kid, yes!” Your head lolls back as you mewl, his ministrations making your head spin, turning you into a puddle of mush. With a few more strokes, he pushes you over and you gasp out his name, blinding pleasure coursing through your veins, turning your vision white.

“That’s one.” He whispers against your ear, and then he doesn’t relent, his fingers keep pulling pleasure, pressing on your G-spot with his rough fingertips, turning the smaller waves of dissipating pleasure into something else, something more.

“Oh, God! Oh, God!” You start chanting as a surge of bliss travels up your spine, tingling, igniting, burning.

“Wrong name, lass.”

“Kid! Kid!” You scream as your release topples over the previous one, briefer but more pleasurable. 

“Two.” Kid removes his fingers from your core, leaving you panting for air as you lie, burning against him, all the previous cold of the night vanishing from your thoughts. He gets up from the bike, unbuckling his belt and taking out his massive cock. Instinctively, you bite your lower lip. It’s been a while since you’ve had anything real down there, and he’s bigger than your average toy.

“Satisfied?” He asks with a grin.

“I’m sure I will be.” You answer him back, earning a barking laugh.

“Turn on the seat, lass.” You do as he says, and Kid sits back down where he was, pulling your legs over his so you wrap them around his waist. “I hope ye don’t love yer panties too much.” You don’t even have time to question his sentence when he rips your panties off of you, making you gasp as another surge of heat courses through you. “Fuck, yer so perfect.”

You sigh and let your fingers trace the muscles of his abs over his shirt. Then your hand goes lower as you take his pulsating, veiny cock in your hands. You can’t help but lick your lips at the sight. Kid grunts and lets you pump him a few times until a bit of pre-cum starts leaking through the top. 

“Aye, aye, enough, lass. Tonight’s about yer pleasure.” Kid gently removes your hand from his cock as he takes your lips in another fiery kiss, bringing you closer to him until you can feel him pressed against your thigh. “I’ve wanted ye since I saw ye. Since the day I helped ye move yer things into yer flat, I knew ye were the one for me.”

You can see the truthfulness in his eyes, his expression softer than you’ve ever seen in him. His fingers trace every curve of your face and jaw, and his eyes follow, as if he’s memorising all of you, soaking you in. His lips go in after, kissing you, worshipping every inch of you like a revered acolyte.

“Yer all I’ve ever wanted. Yer too perfect.” His hands find purchase under your thighs as he pulls you into him, sinking slowly into you. The stretch of his cock inside of you stings and burns, so you wrap yourself tighter around him, your face buried in the crook of his neck as his hands snake up your spine, cradling your neck. “There ye go. Slowly, we got time, lass. I’ve been dreamin’ of this since we met.”

He keeps pushing slowly into you until he’s fully sheathed. You take small breaths to accommodate him, but the sting of the stretch is long gone. The burn that you’re met with demands something very different now. “Show me, Kid. Show me how much we belong together.” You whisper into his ear, and then leave a trail of kisses down to his lips, shifting your hips slightly, showing him you’re ready.

“Ye have no idea what ye do to me. Ye drive me wild.” He leans his forehead against yours and starts to thrust lazily into you. You can feel every vein, every ridge of his cock touching your walls, rubbing them, igniting flames of pleasure inside you.

“Kid…” You moan out his name, pleasure mounting already as every thrust hits a perfect spot.

“Took me long enough to say it, lass. Took me too long. I didn’t know if ye wanted me back. Thought I was friend-zoned. Fuck, yer tight.” You thread your fingers through his hair, every movement making you dizzier as he keeps kissing your body, touching every curve and dip as if he’s committing all of you to his touch, to his memory.

“I can’t fuckin’ believe this is happenin’. I’m afraid I’ll wake up alone again in my bed.” Kid grunts and thrusts a bit harder, making you topple over the edge you’ve been playing at with a loud cry of his name. Your walls squeeze him tighter as your bliss washes through you in waves. “Three. Fuck.”

The chill of the night has nothing on both of you. You can feel little droplets of sweat running down your spine, and Kid’s forehead is damp with effort. 

“Yer mine now. Tell me ye’ll no longer go after fuckin’ losers. Say ye’ll want only me.” You nod, back arching into him, seeking more pleasure as his reverent touches and devoted words wrap a fog of lust and love around you. You feel overwhelmed with emotion. You had no idea that Kid felt like this over you. “I need to hear it, lass.” He seems desperate to know you want him, so you force a thought to materialise in the form of words.

“I’m yours, all yours. Forever, Kid.” That snaps something in him, and he wraps your waist, both feet planted firmly on the ground to keep steady. With a flick of his wrist, he turns on the bike and revs the engine, making it vibrate and purr under you, adding another layer of stimulation to your already stimulated self. With two harsh thrusts - a contrast to his steady, languid previous ones - you shatter again with another long cry of his name.

“Four. One more, lass. We’ll take this one together, aye?” You can barely think straight. Every nerve is tingling with pleasure, every bone is quivering with want, and every muscle is aching with release. 

“Kid… Kid…” You can barely utter a single word. Kid kisses your forehead softly, his hand pressing gentle circles on your back before he revs the engine again. You moan and clutch his shirt, barely able to stand straight as his thrusts become faster, harder, and more relentless. 

“I’ll be all ye’ve ever wanted, all ye’ve ever needed. I’ll make ye feel good every day, ye’ll never feel lonely with me, lass. Yer mine, all mine, aye?” You nod once more as he guides your body back, and you feel the cold metal of the bike against your spine. The new angle makes him repeatedly hit your G-spot, and you know you’ll unravel fast.

“Kid, I’m gonna come.” You manage to breathe out between pants and moans, and you have no idea how much strength you still have left. Though Kid seems to have stamina that goes on for days, you’re already feeling overstimulated.

His thrusts are more erratic, his breath coming in short puffs of air. “Aye, aye, lass. I’m right there with ye.” And as you arch your back against the motorcycle, already losing yourself to a wave of ecstasy, Kid leans forward, letting out a primal grunt against your ear, and unloading his seed inside you, filling you up as your eyes water with bliss. 

The gentle purr of the bike beneath you and the harsh breaths leaving your lips are the only things disturbing the silence of the night. Threading your fingers through Kid’s hair, you can’t stop smiling, even though your muscles are already aching and complaining. 

He’s still inside you when he raises his head, wicked grin in place and a slight flush to his cheeks. “See how much fun we could’ve been having, lass?” You let out a loud laugh, and he grumbles against your neck, pulling out with a groan. “Want to get me goin’ again? Don’t laugh like that while I’m balls deep. All that tightenin’ gets me wild.”

He keeps kissing your neck and collarbone softly as you laugh, his hands gently massaging your thighs.

“I didn’t know, Kid.” You whisper, your back still pressed against the motorcycle, feeling empowered by the machine beneath you and the man above you instead of feeling trapped. “I had no idea you felt like this, you never said anything.”

“I know. I should’ve said it.” His groan vibrates against your chest. “Maybe it would've saved me the trouble of seein’ ye with assholes.”

“Yes, Kid. It really would. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, even though I thought about it.” 

Kid lifts himself up and you use his shoulders to return to a seated position as he adjusts the straps of your dress. “Ye have? Ye thought about us?” You nod. “Doin’ this?”

You chuckle as you’re assaulted by a lone shiver. Now that you both have stopped, you’re getting cold. “Not exactly this. I don’t think you ever pulled five orgasms out of me in my fantasies.”

Kid’s wicked grin brings you another kind of shiver, but this one has nothing to do with the cold. “Lass, ye’ve been selling yerself short in yer fantasies. Five is just the warm-up.”

As you laugh into his fiery kiss, his hands pull you closer to him, claiming you, worshipping you. And despite the shitty beginning of a shitty night, you couldn’t have asked for a better ending. Turns out, you really didn’t need to leave the apartment. 

But as Kid revs the engine of his Harley again, you realise you’re glad you did.

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @walmartmihawk

[lurochar]

Yandere Alastor x Reader who refuses to talk and not just to him but to everyone. Maybe one day he came off way too strong to her and ever since then she hasn’t spoken a word. How would he react? It’s almost like she’s ignoring him as she always has the far off look in her eyes even when he’s speaking to her.

Not sure if this is quite what you requested, Anon, but hopefully it’s a little satisfactory >_<

Warnings: Yandere!Alastor, Violence

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

Everyone is quite worried about you. They have no idea why you suddenly just stopped… talking, but Husk and Vaggie have a pretty good guess and it definitely has something to do with their hotelier because of course it does.

Alastor, on the other hand, thinks your reaction to his… proposal (not literal, but aww, if you took it that way, he wouldn’t have refused your darling little self) is cute at first. So you’re playing hard to get, making him work for it? Usually, it’s demons coming to him asking and begging for deals in exchange for their souls, not the other way around.

Perhaps he was a little too forward, blunt in asking for your soul right away? It seems he was a little too eager to have you solely for himself that he completely forgot his manners – he didn’t woo you like a gentleman should.

After a proper courtship, only then should he have sweet talked you into giving him your soul.

But after a while, you refusing to speak, to him, to anyone – just avoiding everyone in general, completely spooked by the near loss of your soul (and Alastor, on some level, can understand your way of thinking, you are relatively new to Hell after all), well, it’s starting to irritate Alastor a little. 

He does want to hear your lovely voice again.

So, he starts out small, casual things – acts of service, maybe cooking your favourite meal, doing one of your chores around the hotel, buying a trinket on one of his outings. He does hope you’ll be at least polite enough to thank him for what he’s doing for you, but all he gets is a shaky nod before you’re running to the ‘safety’ to your room.

That’s fine, there are other ways to make people talk.

He just didn’t want to have to use them with you, but he didn’t realize you were this stubborn and if his kindness was wasted…

Alastor goes to collect any and all acquaintances, friends, and family members of yours to be rounded up and brought to his radio tower. His shadow has forcibly sealed you in Alastor’s room at the hotel and you have to listen in absolute horror as familiar screams are being broadcasted to you through the multiple radios in Alastor’s room.

“My sweet Doe, I will stop this, but we must make a deal first. Do promise me you will never give me this dreadful silent treatment again and I won’t lay a finger on any of these souls again. Do we have a deal?”

You are completely frozen in fear, the screams echoing in your head. Is this a trick? If you go there, is that what Alastor would do to you too? You don’t answer Alastor’s question, you can’t.

There is a sigh over the radio and Alastor’s shadow perks up, picking you up a moment later and you’re silently panicking, wondering if these are your last moments alive as you and the shadow travel through the voids right into Alastor’s radio tower.

“Interesting. I didn’t believe I would have to go this far, but…”

A breath escapes you and you tense when Alastor pulls you up from the ground, drawing your back to his chest (though he has to lean down some) as he places his hands tightly on your shoulders, claws ripping the fabric of your clothes. “While I may prefer the auditory experience, some are visual learners, I suppose.”

At some point, you believe you completely dissociate, unable to keep watching Alastor brutally torture your friends outside the hotel and the few family members you had found and reunited with in Hell and it’s then that Alastor strikes.

He does cast a spell on you after he’s finished with what started this all, his proposal for your soul and now he’s thinking about it, a real proposal may be coming very soon.

It’s a spell intended to scramble your mind, thoughts, and memories if you ever decide to talk with Charlie and the others again (he honestly thought about just stashing you away elsewhere, but seeing as he spent the majority of his time at the Hazbin Hotel, you would be safest there too), that you would not recall anything that Alastor had just done to you or that he now owned your soul to begin with.

After all, he certainly did not need Charlie to call Lucifer up if it ever did get out what he had put you through just to get you to speak again and to get you to sign your soul over to him.

Alastor had what he wanted and he would not let a little deadbeat ruin it.

[starlight-sev]

Joy Looks Good on You (Snape x Artist!Reader)

Request: Snape with an artist reader- she makes gorgeous paintings, teaches an art class at Hogwarts (Bob Ross style, for reference). Doesn't have many students, but when he comes into her classroom its such a calming atmosphere. Maybe a short drabble about how he falls in love with her and her skill with paintings?

Requested by: anon

Warnings: none

A/N: this is more platonic than I had initially intended it to be, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Oh! Gender neutral reader as I always try my best to write 💕

Hogwarts was home to many secrets, one of them being that the school offered painting classes as an elective for those in third year or higher.

Even you were shocked when you first heard about the job posting. You always figured art would be just a hobby of yours. When it came to jobs in the wizarding world, anything to do with art and painting was quite rare to find.

So when you were finally offered the job for art teacher at Hogwarts, to say you were overjoyed would have been an understatement. You never thought you’d be able to turn your love of painting into your career.

Dumbledore had placed you in the North Tower, just below Professor Trelawney’s Divination classroom. Compared to her room, yours was rather small: you only had to walk ten steps and you’d already be at the other side of the room. A handful of round tables with matching wooden chairs had been crammed into the tiny space. There was a small desk nestled in the corner for you to work, along with a shelf against the wall to store your paints and supplies.

Your favourite feature about the room, and perhaps one of its only redeeming qualities, was the large window in the middle of the wall. It was rounded at the top, with an ornate stained glass inlay that covered almost half the window. It was the source of your inspiration on sunny days.

It certainly wasn’t the nicest classroom, and sometimes a theory crossed your mind that your classroom had once been a generously-sized storage closet, but anything was better than being down in the dungeons of the castle.

You glanced up from your own painting to quickly sweep your eyes over the paintings your students were finishing up. You never had more than ten students a year, painting certainly wasn’t a common interest for wizards (much to your disappointment), but it didn’t matter. It gave you the opportunity to grow closer to your students, to get to know everyone’s individual art style. It made you all the more proud when you were able to see how much they progressed over the course of the year.

“Professor?”

You glanced over to see Luna Lovegood, one of your students with the biggest imaginations, waving politely to catch your attention.

“Yes?” You asked softly.

“We won’t have time to finish our paintings this class. I know we’re not supposed to, but since it’s Friday, could we leave our supplies out? We’ll be back first thing on Monday.”

A few other students murmured their agreement. You smiled apologetically, silently cursing that you had given them an assignment far bigger than they had time to complete.

“Of course. That’s fine.” You dismissed everyone with a wave of your hand. “Go on. Enjoy the weekend. And don’t worry about handing in your still life sketches this week, you’ve got enough on your hands with the landscape painting I assigned.”

A handful of cheers erupted among the students, and you smiled as each one nodded and murmured their thanks before leaving.

You stood up from your desk, walking across the room to collect everyone’s paintbrushes one by one.

“Letting your students go without cleaning up after themselves?” A deep voice murmured softly from the doorway. “I’m surprised Y/N, I thought you were more disciplined than that.”

It never failed to startle you, how Severus had this uncanny ability to sneak up silently on you. Usually you’d be able to hear students’ footsteps echoing as they made their way up the stairs to your classroom, but Severus seemed to be able to glide noiselessly around the castle like a ghost.

You set your paintbrushes in the small sink that rested in the corner of your room, smiling in acknowledgement and beckoning the professor to come in.

“It’s Friday,” you answered, grabbing a paintbrush and using your fingers to work the paint out of the bristles. “They’ve got enough going on, I figured I’d give them a bit of a break.”

You heard Severus scoff as he approached you from behind.

“You’re too easy on them.”

“And you’re too hard on your own students, but you don’t see me waltzing into your classroom to nag.”

That earned a soft chuckle from the professor as he stood beside you.

“You can use magic to clean those.” Severus observed, nodding toward your fingers as you worked the leftover paint out of the brush.

“I know I can,” you shrug, watching the water beneath the brush turn a bright turquoise. “But I prefer not to. Helps me clear my mind a bit.”

“Hm.” Was the small response you got in reply. To your surprise, Severus reached into the sink and grabbed a paintbrush, mimicking your movements as he began cleaning it.

“Oh,” you exclaimed softly. “It’s okay, I can do that-”

“Too late,” Severus retorted, casting a quick glance at you out of the corner of his eye. “I’ve already started.”

The two of you scrubbed brushes in silence, and you just barely caught Severus let out a small, tired sigh. As you placed your final brush to the side to dry, you glanced at him.

“Rough day today?”

You had to hold in your giggles as he answered your question with the biggest eye roll you’d ever seen.

“That’s putting it lightly,” he muttered.

“Come,” you beckoned as you sat down in one of the empty seats in the middle of the class. You nodded for Severus to join you as you crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in your seat. “Tell me about it. What happened? Was it Potter again?

You smirked at the eye roll Severus gave you in response before tiredly making his way over to the seat across from you.

“Someone’s been stealing supplies for a Polyjuice potion,” he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I have reasons to believe it’s Potter and his dunderhead friends.”

You bit back a smile, and raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think it’s him? Do you have evidence?”

“Trouble follows him wherever he goes, isn’t that evidence enough?”

You had trouble holding in a giggle, and Severus glared at you.

“He’s brewed Polyjuice potion before.” Severus continued. “It’s the only thing he can actually do well. And those specific ingredients keep going missing.”

You frown a little and shook your head.

“Really, Severus. I don’t know what you have against that boy, but you’ve got to give him a break,” you encouraged gently. “He’s got enough on his shoulders right now, with the Triwizard Tournament going on.”

“And what if he is stealing from my supplies?” Severus retorted.

“What if he isn’t?” You challenged calmly. Severus sighed again, shaking his head as he gazed at you.

“Should we place bets on whether it’s Potter who’s stealing from you?” You asked jokingly, leaning forward in your seat with a smirk. Severus pressed his lips together in a thin line.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because every damned time we make a bet, you win.”

You snickered at Severus’ remark, before standing up from your seat and placing your hand reassuringly on the professor’s shoulder. He looked up at you with dark eyes that warmed very slightly at your touch.

“I truly do not know how you always manage to see the good in people.” He murmured, sighing tiredly. You squeezed his shoulder lightly.

“I just… see the good in everything I guess.” You shrugged. “Even things that seem terrible can be beautiful, if they’re in the right lighting.”

Severus let out a little snort at your comment, shaking his head.

“C’mon grumpypants,” you teased lightly, patting your friend on the back. “I know what’ll cheer you up.”

You walked over to your desk and opened the far left drawer. Upon hearing the dull scrape of wood as the drawer pulled open, Severus looked over at you with the tiniest smile.

“Have you added any teas to your collection?” He asked. He kept a somewhat level expression, but you couldn’t help but grin at the hint of a hopeful tone in his voice.

“I went to Hogsmeade last weekend and got a few more. Some just for you. Come over here and pick one, I’ll put the kettle on.”

Severus stood up just as you moved to the corner of the room to fill the kettle. You noticed out of the corner of your eye how shadow-like he was: the way his cloak billowed slightly as he almost seemed to glide over to your desk.

You heard a few papers rustle as you filled the kettle, and that’s when your heart stopped.

Oh no, oh god no.

You forgot to move your sketchbook, bloody hell.

Maybe Severus was looking at something else, you thought to yourself. Maybe you misheard and he was only rifling through your tea stash-

“Is this… me?”

Nope. He found it. Shit.

You set the kettle down slowly, your hands trembling as you felt a rush of heat fly up to your cheeks.

“S-Sorry?”

You kept your eyes glued to the teacups on the small wooden countertop, trying your best not to cringe as you continued to hear pages being flipped over gently.

“Y/N…” Severus murmured. “You drew these?”

You chewed your lip, just about ready to sink through the floorboards at this point.

“Y-yes.” Your voice came out as a small squeak, barely even intelligible.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you heard gentle footsteps approach you from behind.

“Turn around,” Severus encouraged softly. Clenching your jaw, you tried to ignore the burning heat in your cheeks as you shuffled around to face Severus.

His dark eyes were swirling with so many emotions, you genuinely couldn’t tell what he was thinking. It terrified you. You looked down, and saw that he was holding one of your sketches in his hand.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I don’t show those to anyone, they’re just for me to practice with…”

“This is how you see me?”

You heard Severus‘ voice catch in his throat, and you looked up to see his features had softened into a gentle and almost sad expression. You lowered your gaze to his hands again, taking a closer look at the sketch he brought over.

It was from the Yule Ball a few months ago. You had sketched Severus during dinner after you saw him throw his head back in a hearty laugh, thanks to a dirty joke Professor Sprout had casually dropped at the staff table that night. You couldn’t remember the joke for the life of you, but you’d never forget the way Severus’ eyes lit up with a rare joy few ever saw. Nor would you forget the way his hair curled that night, perfectly framing his face and making him look almost angelic.

“Joy looks good on you.” You explained in the tiniest whisper, pressing your lips together nervously. “I… that was one of my first times seeing you laugh, and I just…”

You trailed off, silently cursing the fact that your face was still as red as ever. Finally, to your relief, Severus set your sketch down. But when you looked up at him, you noticed his eyes were glassy.

Was he… crying?

“Oh.” You gasp softly. “Oh no, I’m sorry. It’s a terrible drawing, I know-”

Severus shook his head. “Stop bloody apologizing. It’s beautiful. All your sketches are. I had no idea.”

“Well, you weren’t supposed to find out.” You muttered, laughing your nerves out softly. Your heart nearly stopped as Severus reached out, gently cradling your hands in his.

“Thank you.” He murmured quietly. “For… what you said.”

You frowned. “What did I say?”

“About… seeing the joy in me,” he replied. “That’s perhaps the kindest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

Your heart sank as you took in Severus’ words. You looked up, your soft eyes meeting his dark ones.

“It’s true.” You said simply. “It doesn’t take an expert to see you’ve been through some real shit, Sev. You deserve to be happy.”

Severus froze at your words, unsure of what to do or how to react. Then, to your surprise, he took one more step forward and closed the distance between the two of you. He wrapped his arms around you, and you nearly gasped at how tightly he held you to him. You returned his embrace without hesitation, finally calming after the initial scare of Severus finding your sketches. He was warm. You could get used to this feeling.

“Thank you, Y/N.” You heard Severus whisper.

“For what?” You asked back just as softly.

“Showing me how you see the world. How you see… me.”

[eevees-hobbies]

cockwarming with ren , he's impatient but when you're a brat? yeah no that's his favourite thing ever.

also I should probably sign off as an emoji :3 , so call me 💌 anon ! :P

💌 anon?! Welcome back <3 So, like, we’re official, right? I love that for us–I’ll tuck you away nicely in my pocket, and as long as you sign off for me, I’ll include your love letter emoji in my tag <3

So cockwarming, huh? With Kaji? Wow. I can see the vision, babe.

Content Warning: vindictive, manipulative brattyness, jealousy, just the tip, clit smacking, cockwarming, teasing, choking, begging, validation. Minors Do Not Interact.

You’ve been pushing Kaji’s buttons all day—first, by not responding to his text messages promptly, which resulted in palpitations on his end. Were you ok? Were you safe? He was ready to go on a rampage until you answered with a one-worded “K” that made his eyebrow twitch. He had sent you a link to a song you requested. What made you think responding “K” to I Prevail’s Body Bag was appropriate anyway? It’s a good fucking song! Deep breaths, Kaji…

Then you were being far too friendly with Sakura. He watched as you dragged your hand, which he kisses, along Sakura’s chest. And what the fuck were you laughing at? He’s not even funny. Even deeper breaths, Kaji…

And your worst crime? Your worst offense? Not getting up to hug him as he walked through the door. You stayed on your phone, silently laughing at some dumb cat video that was probably AI-generated! Sure, you smiled at him and said, “welcome home, Kaji,” But where the fuck was his hug?

While Kaji wonders what’s gotten into you, you’re silently rejoicing in delight as you sneak a look at your flustered boyfriend. The truth is, you know exactly what you’re doing. A riled-up Kaji is an absolute monster of a man in the bedroom.

So later that night, when you wiggle your ass enticingly against his crotch as he’s spooning you, you fully expect to be left a blubbering, crying, fucked-out mess.

But what you didn’t plan on was Kaji being onto you. As he lifts the slip of your nightgown and presses his dick against your already wet folds, slipping the tip in, you brace yourself in excited anticipation to accept the entirety of his girthy cock.

But you wait, and wait, and wait. 

You blink and look over your shoulder, ready to question him and his inactivity, but you're met with the meanest scowl you’ve ever seen. It makes you turn around quickly and bow your head.

“K-kaji?”

“What?”

“Um, you, um, just put the tip in?”

“And?”

And? And? And? The word repeats in your head as you realize that maybe you fucked up today. Maybe you pushed him a little too far. 

But perhaps you could just move a little to get things going? After all, this was your baby boy, and he couldn’t resist your charm-

“Move an inch, and I’ll pull out.”

You almost gasp at his tone, at his unwillingness to budge, at how hot he sounds when he reprimands you like this.

Kaji snakes an arm around your front, slipping it in between your breasts and locking his fingers around your throat. He moves closer to you, which gives you about half an inch more of his cock but not nearly enough to satiate you.

“You’ve been awful all day,” his fingers tighten around your throat, and you swallow thickly, hoping that the constraint of his hand around your windpipe gives you a good high.

“Kaji I-”

“You speak when I tell you to speak.”

Oh, god, fuuuuuuck.

You can’t help but pulse around his dick; the way his voice growls in your ear is heavenly.

Kaji, who is not an idiot by any means, narrows his eyes at your blatant show of arousal, “you wanted this.”

No shit.

You shake your head like a good little girl, though.

“Don’t lie to me.” His grip tightens around your throat, and in what feels like a ridiculously cruel overreaction, Kaji reaches around and delivers a swift smack to your clit.

You yelp and backtrack immediately, your voice hampered by the pressure he has around your neck, “O-ok! Yes!”

Silence befalls you, and you’re thankful that you can at least get your bearings to allow the burning sensation in your pussy to subside.

“I guess I should reward you for your honesty,” Kaji says rather quietly, but you pay no mind to the volume of his voice. You only hear him offer a sweet reward, which you hope is in the form of him finally splitting you open.

And to your absolute delight, Kaji pushes into you, stretching your lush, silky walls with firm, thick muscle. You tremble and brace again for more, but Kaji is not feeling merciful.

Instead, he stays like that, cock buried inside of you but unmoving, and it feels absolutely torturous.

But what can you do? You did this to yourself, so maybe you should think twice about acting like you have absolutely no good sense.

You rack your brain, thinking of what could put you back in his good graces. An apology? Gross, no. Begging? You’re not above it.

“Kaji,” you say carefully, “I really want you to fuck me. Like really badly, baby.”

You feel him twitch inside of you–your sweet voice hard to resist, and you know it, but petty is forever.

“I told you to stop talking.” Another swift slap is delivered to your aching and drooling mound, and tears start to well up in the corner of your eyes.

You feel shifting behind you, the sound of a drawer opening and the unmistakable sound of a wrapper being removed and candy knocking against teeth as Kaji places a sucker in his mouth.

You sniffle, realizing that he could most likely do this all night.

The sniffle you make earns you another twitch of his cock.

Sadistic bastard.

It feels like an agonizing amount of time before Kaji speaks again, “bounce back on my dick like a good girl.”

And you’re so eager to fulfill his request that without a second thought, you roll your hips, quickly jerking off his cock with your cunt. You can hear him groan, and it sounds like a melody in your ears—his vocal validation serving as a high you didn’t know you needed.

But between your bounces, you need something else from him that you so desperately crave. “Kaji,” you whine, “say sweet things to me, please.”

And if only you knew how hard it was for him to hold back sweet, loving words from you this entire time, perhaps you would have waited just a bit longer because he was going to break soon, anyway.

Kaji moans and places a hand on your hip. “My baby, I love you so much.”

There it is. 

“I love you too, Kaji. I love you so fucking much.”

And it’s like a dam breaks, your words giving way to thrusts that are now meeting your bounces, Kaji moaning things like, “this pussy is mine, right baby?” “I’ve missed you all day. Did you miss me?” “You feel so good. Fuck, bounce just like fucking that.”

And you agree loudly to anything and everything he says because it’s his, his, his. 

And you swear you can hear a whimper behind you, his grip on your hip almost painful as he pulls out so far that just the tip is inside you and thrusts forward, filling you back up again.

And as Kaji continues to fuck you, you can’t help but think that you ended up getting what you wanted anyway.

[ladydiaries]

can i request valentino x bimbo reader🤭🤭 do whatever you want with that thank you

Bimbo! Doll .ᐟ—જ⁀➴ ˚ ༘

CW; minors do not interact, 18+ content, unprotected sex, degradation, praise, sub reader, pet play, gun play, oral fixation, overstimulation, choking, size difference, Valentino is his own warning. NSFW under the cut!

SUMMARY; Valentino spoiling and reprimanding his sweet bimbo reader

HCS + RAMBLES

AUTHORS NOTE; congrats on being my first request ily anon *🫶 no specified gender was made so I will make this as GN! as possible.

Valentino is far from a soft lover, he's nasty and mean but he cannot help but spoil his favourite star, you. Such a good starlet for him, taking men and women like it's nothing. He prizes you for your naivety, innocence. Which is a gem in a disgusting place such as hell. Wishing nothing but to corrupt your brain and every orifice on your plush body.

Valentino who gives you, and only you, water and snacks after sets. Valentino who buys you every little gem and pricey shelf you desire. Valentino who argues with employees when a store claims they don't have something in your “size”.

And the best part is that you're too dumb to know that it's all part of a bigger puzzle. Spoiling you rotten to encourage your obedience, codependency. You don't even realise he's the one feeding you, brushing your teeth in the mornings and detangling your hair for his and only his benefit. Perhaps ignorance is bliss.

Blissful as he drags you by your love handles down onto his cock. Putting his cigarette out on your lower back, set of arms keeping your hips where he wants them. Listening to the sweet sound of initial yelp and your pained whimpers before hunching over you. Sharp teeth against your earlobe as he whispers nasty things, accent running thick with desire. Running his mouth with all sorts of sweet pet names.

“Fuck yourself back onto me, Conejito. Let me feel your passion, how much do you want me? Show me."

His tip dragging against your walls with sweet vigour. Breath shaky, antennae twitching, and wings, wings unfurling. Velvety wings. Focused on ruining you until you can't breathe, until you fail to make coherent sentences. The familiar red smoke lingering heavy in the air, making you dizzy.

Imagine sitting at his feet like a good mutt. You look so pretty under him, so small. Pink blinged collar (he decorated it himself) snugly around your neck. His long fingers pressed against the trigger of his signature gun, his most gorgeous gun, for you of course. Working the thick barrel into your leaking mouth. Choking and sputtering. Drooling like an animal, almost as wet as your cunt. He tsks "Making a mess all over my carpet, puta de mierda, you're better then this." he purrs. Tip of his heeled shoes nestling in between your thighs. (he will make you clean it up later)

Cannot end this without thinking of his pretty wings. I believe you'd be one of few people he would let into the embrace of them. Possessive. Letting you sit pretty on his lap once you're done working, wings embracing you as his chin sits neatly against your shoulder. Gaze stuck onto the other actors as he still had a long night ahead of him. Nothing serious as long as he had his angel by his side.

[finniestoncrane]

Could you possibly write a smut thingy with Egon Spengler as the reader(female) professor? Love your work!!

Egon Spengler x Fem!Professor!Reader, word count: 1k i am refreshing my memory on learning styles and turning my least favourite word into a positive thing with this one anon lmao ❤ he gog on my ped until i geeeeeeeeee👻 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: i've attmpted a bold reader once more, confident reader, masturbation/handjob, ruined orgasm ehehehe

As your students filtered out of the small seminar room, you noticed Egon trying to push against the currents, standing a whole foot taller than most of them, some of them more, and catching your eye with a small, awkward smile as he managed to get through the throngs.

He stood silently for a moment, awkwardly fiddling with his glasses before he spoke to you.

"Your attendance is impressive."

"Is that surprising?"

You teased him with a coy smile, watching the way he was flustered immediately. He was usually so firm, unflappable, especially given his line of research, but around you he seemed to lose all confidence.

"N-no, I was admiring it. Pointing it out. That almost seemed like more students going out than have your class on their schedules.

"What can I say? I know how to keep them interested."

You turned, walking to the desk in the corner of the room with a distinct wiggle to your hips. Egon's pupils widened as he watched you, mumbling to himself.

"I can see why."

"How can I help you, Doctor Spengler?"

He was snapped out of his daze, eyes flitting swiftly back up to meet yours in a panic. Not only had he been caught drooling over your backside, now he had to think of a lie on the spot.

"Uh... I wanted to... discuss with you the... importance of..."

It hit him, a strike of inspiration, a good follow-through from his previous statement.

"... The importance of adapting your teaching methods in order to engage with the largest proportion of students. I imagine it's something you're very familiar with, given how interested your students are. Is this something you work on? Or does it come naturally?"

You smiled softly, watching as he relaxed into his excuse and deciding to punish him, just a little, for not being more straightforward with you.

"Well, I think it might be slightly natural on my part. I can read people very well, Doctor Spengler."

"You can?"

He tensed up as you walked out from behind the desk, taking slow, purposeful steps towards him.

"Oh yeah, I know what's going on inside their minds. What they need... or what they want. You might even consider me an example of your psychic studies."

He swallowed deeply, pronounced Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he pushed his nerves down, his face remaining as calm as was possible in the face of your bold approach. You were close to him, and only coming closer, backing him into the board on the wall, with nowhere else to go.

"So... how does this help with your students?"

Egon's efforts to keep up the facade were admirable, but you could see the slight blush on his cheeks, the way his eyes darted from your body to the ceiling, and youhad to admit that this more sheepish nature, as opposed to his often blunt and dry responses, was doing a lot for you.

"It helps to know how best to reach them. I know that some students prefer to listen and learn, that works for a majority. Audio and visual learning is the sort of default state. But others need a different approach, and it's important to facilitate that. I find it benefits those who can't just ask for help to offer them a more... tailored approach of my own accord."

He seemed to get the message, as his cheeks flushed a deeper hue, his glasses steaming up slightly in the center of the lenses. Sensing that you were perhaps offering a more suggestive opportunity to him than he had expected, he continued to play along.

"Can you... can you provide an example?"

"Of course, Doctor Spengler, let's take you for example! I think that you're probably the kind of person who learns better in a one-on-one environment. Perhaps you would be better suited to some private tutelage."

Ever stoic in appearance, even now as he felt his pants beginning to tent with his growing arousal, Egon nodded, considerate and firm.

"Yes, that does sound very appropriate."

"Mhm... and you strike me as a kinesthetic learner... Someone who requires a very tactile, hands on approach..."

He had begun to agree with you, but the words were strangled into a soft yelp as your hand met his crotch. You felt his cock pulsing against your palm, a twitch of the length as your fingers travelled up towards the belt of his brown slacks.

Undoing it with ease, you turned your attention to his fly, undoing it and reaching into the fabric to pull his cock free. His body fell against the wall, completely undone by that first gesture, quivering as you began to stroke him.

A heat rose within him, bringing with it a confidence that bolstered his own movements as he leaned his head down, nuzzling against your neck. His soft curls tickled at your skin, his breath soft, panting, into your ear as you worked his cock.

Egon's hands pulled at your waist, tugging you, bringing you closer to his body, wanting to feel you on him as he threatened to reach his climax. But as he began to cling tighter to you, body keening, you pulled away, watching him stumble after you. He bucked his hips once into the air, an instinctual urge to search for friction, to continue his impending orgasm, but instead all he found was your knowing, mischievous smile, arms folded across your body, eyes lidded as you watched him push his cock back into his pants.

"I do think that's all we have time for, unfortunately. But did you learn anything valuable from our discussion, Doctor Spengler?"

He grumbled a little, disappointment on his face.

"I think I did."

"Good. Well. If you ever need to recap anything, my office door is always open."

As you walked away from him, he raised an eyebrow, smiling with suspicion, but hope. He was quick to follow you, however, following like a lost puppy. If you weren't going to your office now, then at least he could take a seat outside and wait for you. He was very willing to put off the rest of his day's work for the chance at some more of your private tutoring.

[bitterbutblue]

What if i request Robin x Fem!Reader where Robin felt a bit pressured from the media and as her beloved girlfriend you help her relief stress :33

It can be fluff or smut, i dont rlly care i just want more Robinnn content :333

Thank you in advance!!!

Also can i be 🍷 anon? :3

you're not bad, but rather good ☆ robin x fem!reader

~ omg hi!!!! ur my first anon this is so exciting.... i don't do smut but i can totally do fluff.. anything 4 u <3

gonna start naming out the song lyrics i've been using as titles

loveable ~ jo yuri <3 ~

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

Robin's recent comeback- a miserable failure.

Robin's new EP 'Welcome To My World' has been nothing but a colossal failure. With each new album, Robin continues to disappoint- fans are sick of her low effort songs and lack of stage presence. Her comeback stage shows her clearly lack of passion. Just because she has made a name for herself does not mean she can now slack off on stage when fans pay thousands to see her-

You closed the article before you finished reading it. If you continued, you probably would've ended up throwing your phone across the room or do something along the lines of that sort of stupidity that you would end up regretting later. That article was like a knife through the heart for Robin but for you it was a knife through the author's decaying and bleeding out body as you stab that fucker over and over again. Okay, maybe that was too violent but fuck you can't stand to see people say such bullshit about your girlfriend. She called you at work, crying and saying she couldn't do it anymore. You could barely make out her words through her sobs and the bad signal (which led you to believe she was hiding in the bathroom).

"I worked so hard, I don't know what they want from me. I can't-"

"Robin, baby, deep breaths- okay? I'm right here, it's okay."

It infuriates you, how people can run their mouths and say whatever bullshit that comes to their mind just because they're not satisfied with their own miserable lives. Just because they feel like dragging someone down would perhaps make themselves feel better about the fact that someone half their age is more successful than they will ever be. You want to tell her that you'll fucking find them and make their life a living hell but that's definitely not what she wants to hear right now.

"What do they want from me? I'm so tired, I don't wanna do this anymore."

All you really could do was continue to comfort her, hoping that she can pick up what you're saying through the static and cut offs due to bad internet. You just stayed with her until her cries became sniffles and she stated that she has to go before they suspect anything. You swallowed back your worry and just nodded.

"Okay. I love you, Robin.

You can feel her smile from across the phone.

"I love you."

That night you spent the entire evening in the kitchen, prancing around and trying not to burn the eight things you have going on the stove as you flip through your phone to find that recipe for the thing in the oven that looks horrifically bad.

"Ah fuck..."

You check the time- 8:03, she should be back soon. You finally find the recipe page and you feel your heart drop. Fuck, you were supposed to bake it for 30 minutes- not 50! No wonder that shit looked so wrong! You scramble to pull it out of the oven, the timer with 5 minutes left. You groan when you see how it looks- first it looked wrong and now it was probably burnt too. So much for making your girlfriend's favourite dessert.

"Love?"

The soft voice startles you, yelping as you dropped the cake pan.

"Shit!"

Robin stands there in all her glory. She looks exhausted, eye bags worse than before and shoulders sagged but to you she was still the most beautiful woman you have ever laid your eyes on.

"Everything okay?"

She tries to smile at you but it looks so forced. You feel your heart clenching in your chest as you pick up the cake pan from the ground, moving it back onto the counter.

"Baby, just let me take care of you tonight?"

You pull her in close, hugging her tight. She freezes at first, before completely melting in your grasp. She lets out a shaky sigh as she buries her head in the crook of your neck.

"I missed you."

Her voice is muffled against your shoulder but you just smile as you tiptoe to press a kiss to her forehead.

"I missed you so much, baby." You pull away, cupping her face with your hands as you brush your thumb against her cheek. "You look beautiful."

"Don't lie."

She gets flustered so easily, face turning pink as she looks away but she can't stop the small smile from forming on her face.

"I'm not. You look beautiful."

She sighs as she looks back at you, and the tired expression on your usual warm and happy girlfriend really does hurt you. The way the media can tear people down into nothing but the most insecure parts of themselves has always rubbed the wrong way with you but watching it happen to the one you love most is absolutely heartbreaking.

"I made you dinner?"

"I saw."

Her smile is not as forced now as she looks around the kitchen, a soft giggle escaping her lips.

"Quite a mess you made."

You just shoot an embarrassed grin at her as you tried to hide the cake pan behind your back.

"Well, I'm not a good cook."

"I think you did amazing."

She steps forward, caging you between the counter and herself.

"You make the worst days brighter, you know?"

"You make each of my days better. It's only fair I do the same to you."

Robin looks down, playing with her hands.

"I don't deserve you."

"Oh shut up."

The kiss was soft, gentle and loving. She cups your cheeks as she steps closer, bodies pressed against each other as you pour all the love you can convey through a simple act.

"I love you. I really love you so much, Robin." You say breathlessly to her when you pull away. She doesn't say much, only resting her head on your shoulder as she takes your hand into her own, lacing your fingers together.

"And I'm so proud of you for your new comeback. You've worked so hard and it paid off. You keep outdoing yourself and the people who don't see that can fuck off and die."

She sighs.

"No need for the violence, yeah?"

"Violence is always the answer."

You feel your heart flutter when she lets out a soft laugh, like a songbird's first melody of a new spring.

"You do whatever you want." She says, resting a hand on your chest as she leans in to press a quick but soft kiss to your lips. "Thank you- for this."

"Always."

The food you cooked was mostly inedible- resorting to the two of you ordering takeout together but you couldn't care less about the burnt cakes or undercooked mac and cheese. Robin is smiling again, and that's all you wanted to achieve for the night.

Response to: Robin's recent comeback- a miserable failure.

Robinsdog: op do u not have a life

servallandau_official: No one thinks this.

⤷ talesofthewinterlandsfan222: serval spitting facts but also what r u diong here

⤷ servallandau_official: Do I know you?

⤷ talesofthewinterlandsfan222: ENEVRMIND

march4robin: im giong to find u my entire crew is oing to find u we will run out train into u

galaticstelleballer: i am also going to run my train into u. and my bat. both at the same time.

⤷ dh: Guys please.

Sunday_Oakfamily: We are taking this post and the writer off the platform.

The article you are searching for no longer exists.

[snail-migraine]

ooooh! Could you do something for Elliott from Stardew Valley? Or perhaps Mr. Qi? Elliott’s my favourite character, but Mr. Qi has that “omnipotent stalker with a weird sense of humour” vibe that would fit perfectly.

Thanks in advance!

Ooh, okay! As much as I think Mr. Qi is the most likely out of everyone in the cast to become a yandere, I can't help but that I just wanna cuddle a delusional yandere Eliott. Thanks for the Ask btw!

-

Anon Yan 💌‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

Yandere Elliott

I feel like Elliott is the delusional stalker type.

Like when he and the farmer (aka you) first meet it's love at first sight for him.

He's been in a creative rut for so long, bored out of his mind and replaying the same words over and over again in his mind.

He heard about the new farmer coming into town from Leah, and thought nothing of it really. It wouldn't effect him and his work.

Oh how wrong he was. From the moment Elliott met you the man became a simp.

He watched you run around town foraging for anything good to sell, he always admired how keen your eye was for the little berries that'd grow in the bushes and the flowers nobody thought to pick.

He looks at you like you hung the stars and the moon in the sky. Like you've moved the heavens and the earth to make space just for him and his little whimsical fantasies. And in a sense you kinda did.

After all, it was you who brought him out of the bored gloom he'd had been living in for the past months.

So it'd only make sense that you'd become his one and only muse.

The man could write thousands of sonnets and haiku's in your name. He hasn't gotten that far yet, but he's getting closer everyday.

He's sickly sweet, that lovey-dovey puppy-dog expression crosses his face whenever he so much as thinks about you. [Which is all the time btw]

He is totally and completely enamored with you, fallen for you like a fish falls for the bait. Which is unfortunate for him as you don't seem to have fallen for him.

But it's fine! Maybe you're just shy, that's okay, he'll just need to be a little more forceful in his affections.

"Darling! There you are. I have been looking all over for you. Come along now, I have made another poem for you to read. It'll be wonderful."

Which doesn't work...in fact it seems to make you even more reserved.

But thats okay to! You guys will work on that together.

He just keeps on pushing and pushing and pushing, and it never seems to stop.

It isn't until you blow up on him, calling him a creep, that he backs off. But only for a little bit.

He see's this as just a small argument between you guys, it'll pass over in a few days once you cool down.

But then he see's you talking to Sebastion in the saloon. You twirling your hair between your fingers, laughing at his jokes, blushing when he gets a little too close for comfort, and looking up at him with sweetest expression he's ever seen from you.

For the first time in a long time, Elliott feels rage. And not the normal kind, oh no no no, I mean blinding rage.

The kind that makes you act on your violent thoughts. Which is exactly what Elliott ended up doing.

In a flash he's on Sebastion, beating the poor boy within an inch of his life.

The other people at the Saloon try to stop the raging Elloitt, but all of the get knocked on their ass and get to scared to do anything.

Once Elliott was done with Sebastion, he turned to look at you. No longer did he look at with that sweet puppy-dog face, no instead his eyes were filled with nothing but apathy as he grabbed your chin with his bloody thumb and directed you to look at the dead body of your best friend.

"Look at what you've caused dear. This is what happens when you try to make me jealous."

[emeryhiro]

What are your thoughts on Connie and Daryl? I have always found his reactions towards her to be very different - he acts very giddy and light in front of her. Do you think the show would have ever gone in that direction? Bcoz that was a pretty popular ship during the last few seasons rie?

Hey Anon!

Thank you for the question ♡♡♡

I personally love Connie; she's definitely one of my favourite characters on the show.

Now, in terms of what I think about Connie and Daryl as a romantic couple (I really hope I don't upset a bunch of people with this): yes, it was and still is a pretty popular ship, and I can definitely see how it could work, just like how Carol and Ezekiel did for a time. But, I don't think the show would have or should have gone in that direction and here's my reasoning as to why:

Firstly, the GIF above shows a very intentional shot that was filmed and included in the episode (S10EP1). I think this shot is meant to symbolises the parallel between the two relationships: Carol/Ezekiel and Connie/Daryl. Both can be good together, but neither is the true love/perfect match for the other.

I think Daryl's giddy and light behaviour around Connie is completely genuine. Daryl is very good at reading people, and he can tell that Connie is truly a kind and good person, which allows Daryl to trust her enough to be comfortable and more open than usual around her. And if I had to compare their relationship to anything, I would compare it to a healthy sibling bond, where Daryl treats Connie like the younger sister he never had, hence why he's also very protective and gentle with her.

It's also important to note that Daryl only shows his good sides to Connie; perhaps that's another way of protecting her, like those of us with younger siblings do to shield them from difficult things. And that's also the difference between Connie and Carol. With Carol, he shows 100% of himself, the good and the bad. He can be completely honest with her even when he's at his lowest and trusts her completely because he sees her as his equal, which she is. They complete each other and rely on each other equally.

Carol and Ezekiel's relationship is also a great example of the depth of a relationship like that. Yes, they were in love and happy while they had their fairy tail, but when they lost Henry and the kingdom, and Carol was at her lowest, she didn't need Ezekiel; she needed Daryl, because he was the one she could be 100% honest with and trust completely.

And when I look at it as a romantic relationship, I think the difference between Donnie and Caryl is the difference between someone who can be good for you, and you can be content and happy with them when things are good, versus someone you need during the good and the bad, someone you can be your true self with without fear, someone who knows you better than you know yourself and loves you unconditionally, which is precisely how I see Caryl.

tl;dr Connie is great, but she's not Carol 😊

~~~~

Thanks again for your question ♡ I really hope I explained this well 😅 I would love to hear what you think, even if you disagree with me.

[bearw-me]

Good thing Lute and Carmilla are two of my favourite women from the show. There's lots of ideas I'd love with Carmilla but to start without jumping straight to nsfw (although that woman does things to me), what about her reaction when you ask her to help train you? Who wouldn't want to keep up with her, perhaps an icebreaker/joke on a first date or something you mention after a few dates.

amen anon, amen.

𝐀𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮

𐐒 includes : carmilla carmine x gender neutral! reader 𐐒 cw : first date mention, little angst, fluff 𐐒 summary : carmilla toys with the idea of training you (and maybe toys with you in general) 𐐒 note : anyone else obsessed with carmilla point blank?

she'd think its an absolutely gorgeous idea, sitting there swirling the wine in her glass. . .

she knew you'd be fun

it makes her laugh- both the fact that you asked and her thoughts.

first date: she'd adore the idea, in fact i'd like to imagine her smirking and leaning closer in order to hear what other crazy ideas you'd have on your mind. . .

at first she assumes its a joke and your just. . . charming

so if your serious you'll sort of have to prove it to her (and literally what a fun idea, if it were the first date it'd make her remember you for sure)

"Prove yourself, mi corazón, then we'll see what I can do."

she tells you to stand up and show her what you have to prove- if you know anything at all about fighting- and if it'd be worth her time teaching you

this could be literally anywhere. like if you had a date at her house or out in public at a restaurant (you'd better mean your words is what im saying bc SHE WILL make you do it)

Even then I'd think she'd have a lot of fun just watching you. leaning against the wall, trying to hide her fanged smirk

(and yes, Carmilla Carmine has no shame in making a public commotion, especially if she's had wine on a date. She's and overlord who's gonna tell her to stop?)

If you had absolutely no idea what to do (and she can tell btw) she'd ask to see your stance

"Say I wanted to kill you right now. . . how would you try defend yourself"

A little playful, but honestly, her smile drops for a moment when she sees something in you

ugh, all the things she could teach you!

literally, if you aren't as committed as she is then don't waste her time (would go for relationships too winkwink)

usually pins her hair up when she trains, when it falls down its a big problem (you've kept up with her too long, or you've either actually put up a fight)

i think it would truly endear her to know that someone genuinely wants her advice, kudos if you seem to adore it too

be careful. carmilla hardly has boundaries when you train. like if you aren't holding your arms up high enough she'll smack them to the right position.

(on your date w/ her) when she's satisfied or done with the topic the date will continue like normal- minus the fact that you've absolutely captured her attention

she definitely had fun anyway

[kiwi-on-ice]

Could you do something more with Sombra? I was reading through everything, and I love your writing style. I was wondering how the aftermath of the first date would go if you did go back with her afterward. (Fem reader preferred but either works <33)

Sombra x fem!reader

Summary: Despite your initial plans, you invite the infamous hacker Sombra into your home after your date, where she shows you what she’s been planning to do all along.

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: 18+ smut, fem reader, soft dom/top Sombra, themes of obsession/stalking (she’s a villain ya’ll), cunnilingus, fingering, use of vibrator

Notes: Thank you for the sweet words angel, hope you enjoy! I love writing Sombra sm, she's my evil gf. First date headcannons anon is referencing can be found here.

Clutching on to your date’s waist, your hair flows behind you as she speeds through the dark streets on her motorcycle, her leather jacket comforting to cling on to for dear life.

Weaving down the streets, your breath remains heavy; not just down to the exhilarating journey home. The date had been nothing short of perfect, Sombra being so kind and interested in you the whole time. A part of you hoped she’d tell you her first name, her real name, but perhaps you’ll find out in due time. Still, the date was great regardless, the bar had even played a few of your favourite songs!

As she pulls in to your driveway, she looks back at you with a cocky smirk as you thank her profusely for the ride home. Helping you off the back of the motorcycle, she even leads you to the door.

“Well, it’s been a pleasure amor.” Sombra says, and you can’t deny the rush that floods your body whenever she calls you something in her native language.

“I’ve had a lovely time.” You gush as you open the door, looking back at the woman. While you know this is the natural place to end the date, you don’t miss the flicker of sadness on her face when she realises this is it. Swallowing, you suggest, “you can come in, if you’d like?”

“If it’s not too much trouble.” She says a little quickly, before stepping inside.

All part of the plan, Sombra thinks. She’s glad you caught the little facial change, even if it did make her feel a tad guilty at the manipulation. Coming inside was always part of her plan, there’s just so much more she needs to learn about you, and not just from the fanfictions she’d found when she hacked your laptop.

You watch as she glances around at the decor as you both make your way to the living room area. Fiddling with your fingers, you suddenly feel a bit nervous at the prospect of her in your house, but she sits on the sofa like she owns the place. Your eyes can’t help but dart to her appearance, the dark purple of her leather jacket matching the hues of her hair, as well as her jeans which fall just below her hipbone. The white shirt she’s wearing ensures her stomach and waist are revealed, and you can even see the black bra she’d deliberately chosen to wear underneath it. Realising you’re staring, you quickly glance back at her face.

“Would you like a drink? Or something to eat?”

“Just some soda would be good.”

You nod as you turn to grab some drinks, missing the way her eyes drop down to look at your ass as you move. While she waits, she glances around the room with a small smile. Cute, just like you. It suits you, she thinks. Taking her shoes off, she places them at the side of your sofa politely. Thanks to her enhancements, she can feel the subtle hum of your electronics; your tv, the phone in your pocket, the laptop you’ve got upstairs. No security cameras though, which she expected since she couldn’t find anywhere when she loaded up your address before the date. No matter; she could always suggest you get them later down the line, maybe she can watch on one of her monitors while you-

“Here you are.” You say with a smile, handing her the soda.

She snaps out of her thoughts as she takes it from you, your hands brushing. “Thank you conejita.”

Sitting next to her, you’re struck by how nervous you are again. Perhaps it’s the lack of background sounds from the bar, the music and the patrons creating a soft blanket of white noise. Here, with the quiet of your house, you’re hyper aware of your own breaths coming a little deeper than usual. What makes matters worse is Sombra shuffling closer to you to close the gap between your thighs, placing her drink off the coffee table.

“I just want you to know, I don’t expect anything to happen.” She says smoothly, her eyes locked on to yours.

“Oh…y-yeah I-“ you nod a little, but she interrupts you.

“I can see how nervous you are muñeca, you don’t have to be.” She punctuates her words by gently placing her hand on your thigh under the guise of reassurance, but the way her thumb strokes dangerously close to your inner thigh has you almost squirming.

“Thank you…” you breathe softly, as she starts to trace her hand up and down, which causes you to unconsciously part your thighs.

“Oh…what’s this?” She says with a smirk, it really is all going to plan. She can read you like a book, her hand still caressing your thigh over your jeans as she teases you. Upon not receiving an answer, she goes in for the kill.

“Unless you want something to happen, is that right amor?” her tone is lower now, almost like a whisper.

You can barely breathe, her proximity to you coupled with her hand inching up your thigh has you nodding softly. At your confirmation, she smirks and leans in closer.

“Don’t be scared, we can take it slow…focus on you…” she murmurs, like honey tempting you into her sickly sweetness.

So you lean into her, as she kisses you softly. Almost chaste. Tasting the cherry of her lip gloss, she moves her mouth against yours slowly and smoothly, her hand cupping your cheek. You lean in to the soft brush of her thumb against your cheekbone, your hand gently holding her waist.

She smiles against your lips, her other hand still moving along your thigh gently, feeling the denim under her touch. It’s taking all her willpower not to just pounce on you, but she knows she wants to take it slow. She’s gonna treat you right, better than those lousy partners who you deleted pictures of from your socials.

Pressing her tongue gently against your bottom lip, she licks softly before you let her in, her tongue gently exploring your mouth as she pulls you closer to her. Nails gently dragging along your scalp, you gasps softly as she keeps you where she wants you, kissing you like she needs it to survive.

“Oh you’re so pretty.” She whispers against your lips, her hand going underneath your shirt to caress your waist. “Gonna treat you so well, you want that?”

You nod, but she doesn’t seem to be satisfied. “No no, tell me pretty girl. You want me to take care of you?”

“Yes…yes I want you to take care of me.” You mutter softly, before she hums and starts to slowly remove your shirt.

Gasping, you lean into her more as she moves to grope your chest, her smile widening at your reactions to her stimuli. She leans in to kiss the space between your neck and shoulder, just as her fingers slip around your back to unclasp your bra. Letting it fall, she kisses downwards, lavishing your skin with her tongue, the cold hair hitting where she leaves her mark behind. You hold her shoulder as she pushes you back a little, gaining easy access to lick your nipple, causing you to let out a soft moan.

It’s like something in her snaps as she attaches her mouth to you, sucking and gently scraping your nipple with her teeth. Her other hand gropes your other breast, coordinating when to bite and pinch softly to cause your back to arch. Nails scratch at her shoulder, as she kisses down to the hem of your jeans.

She sits up, causing you to sit up a little too before she speaks. “Where’s your bedroom conejita?”

Flushing, you lead her to it, not being able to see her satisfied smile as you take her willingly to your bedroom. “How about you lay down, let’s see how many of those noises I can get you to make.”

And she certainly makes good on her promise, she has your jeans off quickly as she lays between your legs, pressing sloppy kisses to the panties you’d worn underneath.

“Mm look at these, you were hoping this would happen tonight, weren’t you? Cute.”

At her teasing words, you can’t help but nod a little pathetically, thighs tensing as her tongue can taste your wetness through the fabric. You’re struck with the need to see more of her, so you reach down and tug at her jacket, causing her to giggle. She shrugs it off, letting you see her arms and the way her shoulders flex when she roughly pulls your underwear with surprising strength. At the rip you hear, you go to speak before she places a tender kiss to your inner thigh.

“Don’t worry amor, I can get you more.”

She blows cold air on your pussy to watch you writhe, smirking at the feast laid out before her before flattening her tongue and licking a broad stripe. Immediately your breath stutters, hips rising off the bed a little until your new lover pushes them back down.

“So sensitive, are you like this all the time? Or just with me?” She asks, before starting to lap at you in a gentle rhythm.

Pondering that thought, you realise it is just her. Sure you’ve been eaten out by your partners previously, but she’s barely even started and you already feel like your body is shaking.

“Just you…” you whisper, to which she smirks and flicks at your clit as a reward. Moaning softly, you can’t move anymore thanks to her grip so all you can do is lay there and feel her.

She gently sucks on your sensitive nub, distracting you a little before she pushes a finger inside of you. Immediately you whimper at the unexpected sensation, as she continues to lap at your clit eagerly.

“So warm and tight for me in here, oh just you wait muñeca until I can fuck you…the noises you’d make.” She mumbles against your cunt, fucking her finger in and out of you before adding another. You barely have time to process the implications of her words, like she knows you’re gonna end up being hers at the end of the night.

She practically makes out with your clit, two fingers crooking inside of you to ensure the pressure on your g spot is almost blinding. You reach down to hold on to her purple hair, feeling the slight coolness of the metal implant on her left side. The contrast has your mind going fuzzy, the pleasure between your legs blocking out your rational thinking.

You know Sombra is dangerous, a hacker with dubious motives. But like this, knuckle deep in your pussy with her tongue dragging along your clit, you can hardly say it matters much to you at this moment. From the second you lay eyes on her, you were drawn like a moth to a flame. Little did you know she felt the same, but sooner than you thought. Little did you know how she’d planned your ‘meeting’, knowing she had to have you; carefully syncing up your schedules so you’d appear to have a meet cute, her going invisible to knock whatever you had in your hands over, only to reappear behind you and quickly pick everything up for you.

Now she’s truly in heaven, the kitten who’s got the cream, licking your delicious pussy like she knew she needed to back then. Her fingers keep thrusting in and out of you relentlessly, focusing on that sweet spot inside that makes your moans disappear into a breathy whine. It’s addictive for her, the same rush as hacking into an encryption most people say is impenetrable or finding the juiciest blackmail to use on a high ranking official. Her pupils are blown wide and her mind is alert and racing, shaking her head a little to ensure her tongue reaches all areas that she needs it to.

The enthusiastic way she’s eating you out has your thighs shaking and muscles tight as you get closer to the edge. Your grip on her hair gets tighter as you stutter out a warning, and then you’re letting go. The orgasm washes over you in waves, as you fall back into your own cushions, clit throbbing as Sombra leaves a last kiss on the sensitive area.

“Wow…you tasted so sweet for me.” Sombra remarks, her smirk glistening with your juices as she kisses your hipbone.

You watch as she climbs up your body, kissing your cheek. “But I know you have another one for me…tell me. A pretty, lonely girl like you must have some toys here somewhere.”

It doesn’t really dawn on you what she said, as you tell her your vibrator is in the bottom drawer next to your bed. But the truth is, the hacker knew you had one. She’d seen the online purchase you made about three weeks ago.

She springs up to grab it, a pretty sizeable vibrator that in all honesty kinda intimidated you when it first came. Still, she doesn’t seem deterred as she tells you to sit up before kissing you deeply yet again. Tasting yourself on your tongue, your pussy throbs a little despite your recent orgasm.

“Now…just get into the position I tell you to, okay cariño?” She says, leaving no room for argument, not that you’d dream of disobeying her at this point. You watch as she strips for you, slowly to really let your eyes feast on her body as she pulls her top off. She shimmies out of her jeans before turning to show her bra clasp.

“Wanna do the honors?” She teases before you nod eagerly, taking off her bra for her. Your hands go down to her underwear, as she giggles and helps you take them off before she manoeuvres you both into position. While she does, your eyes are drawn to the silver nipple bars she has, your pussy getting somehow wetter at the sight.

Facing eachother, you both are nearly straddling the vibrator, the position close and allowing you to gently run your hands on her shoulders. With a grin, she flicks the toy on. Gasping, you tighten your grip on her waist as she breathes shakily. The feeling of the vibrations on your cunt was heavenly, made even better by the closeness of your partner. Your legs wrapped around her waist tightens at the sensation, as you both moan and grind against the toy.

The angle is a little awkward, but the sensation of being smushed against your crush was making your head spin. Gripping your chin, she pulls you in for a filthy kiss, tongues dancing with each-other until when you pull away, saliva connects you both like the strings of fate. Strings that Sombra had manipulated; a puppet master ensuring she ensnares the prettiest doll all for herself.

“So good baby….oh so good for me.” She moans out, controlling your pace for you with a firm grip on your body. Purple nails slightly dig into your skin, leaving crescent marks. The vibrations pulse and dance, leaving your poor pussy overwhelmed with sensation.

“Sombra…m’gonna cum again.” You manage to slur out, the pleasure becoming too much for you after she’d eaten you out previously.

“Olivia…” she says without thinking, blinking a few times before continuing. “Call me Olivia…”

You gasp, her admission of her real name causing your hips to buck involuntarily. “Olivia…please.”

A pretty moan escapes her lips, the sound of her name, her real name, coming from someone. She can’t remember the last time since another person had looked her in the eye and called her Olivia. It almost reminds her of a more simple era. One without global conspiracies and criminal organisations and the power of technology being surgically implanted into her flesh. No. Just Olivia…your Olivia.

She just about registers your orgasm, tears forming in your eyes at how intense the feeling is, gripping nails nearly piercing her skin. As you come down from your high, your eyes find her gaze. Realising how much it means to her, for you to call her by her real name, with shaky limbs you move yourself and lightly push her down.

She lets you, tilting her head in curiosity before you take the vibrator and press it firmly against her cunt. Immediately her back arches as the soft whimper escapes her, grasping at the sheets beneath her.

“Fuck…tan bueno para mí.” She says breathlessly, rolling her hips against the vibrator. Your eyes dart to greedily drink in every single movement and curve of her body.

“You look so pretty Olivia.” You coo softly, wanting to make her feel as amazing as she did for you as you use your other hand to gently trace up her waist to grope at her breasts.

A delicious whimper escapes the hacker’s throat, still not used to the sound of her name like that. To tell the truth, Olivia hadn’t planned on telling you that piece of information tonight. To expose herself like that is a vulnerability she isn’t used to feeling, not while she’s at the top of her game as the best hacker in the world. But now, hearing it with your vibrator pressed against her clit was causing every flutter of doubt to dissipate.

Circling the toy, you aim to bring her to the peak as you gently stimulate her nipple, feeling the piercing that had been driving you crazy since you saw it. With every noise that escapes her lips, it emboldens you to keep going, to watch her fall apart under you. You realise she didn’t flick it to the highest setting earlier, so with a smile you do just that.

The effect is instantaneous, Olivia moaning loudly as her legs shake, “baby…oh eres tan bueno, te necesito tanto.”

You gasp softly, keeping a steady rhythm with the vibrator. “So gorgeous Olivia…”

With yet another utterance of her name, she feels her orgasm build and build, gripping your arms tightly. She grinds against the toy, hips stuttering as her whines get more and more breathy and desperate. Pinching her nipple gently, she cries out softly.

“Oh amor…I’m gonna cum…Voy a venir”

Olivia cums with a gasping moan, her nails digging in as she rides out her pleasure on the toy, her juices coating the white plastic. You swear you’ve never seen anything so captivating, sweat gleaming from her sepia toned skin as she comes down from her high. She immediately pulls you down with her, cuddling you as you come down from the high of pleasure.

“Aren’t you a doll.” She coos, her fingers tangling themselves in your hair and massaging your scalp. You laugh softly and move closer to her, eyes closing at her gentle touch.

Leaning in to whisper in your ear, she grins as she speaks, “you’re gonna be mine, right conejita?”

She knows you have to say yes, she needs you so badly, all of her hard work can’t be for nothing. Her fingers almost vibrate as she feels the electricity in the laptop you have hidden under the bed, anxiously awaiting your response. So when you nod against her, she relaxes completely. “Gonna take good care of you…real good care.”

[eluxcastar]

Number 13 and 14 with Arlecchino

Arlecchino being comforted by her s/o

── ୨୧：arlecchino x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: arlecchino comfort drabbles yesyes

୨୧﹑genre :: sort of fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, possibly ooc because it was written pre fontaine quest, not very proofread, arlecchino is implied to have issues with self-image/perception

୨୧﹑words :: 2.2k

"I could see the worst parts of you and still think you are the most beautiful person I've met." "I'm going to ask you how you are and I would like you to answer me honestly."

IT'S HERE you guys always spoil me 13 is my favourite prompt and you are the first of two to request it. completely unrelated but this is so familiar to what Kae said a few days ago (months now omg 😭) when we were talking about One of Repetition and it fits those two so well 😭❤️

to the anon who requested furina it'll take me a minute to figure out how to write her because I haven't played the archon quest but I'll watch some cutscenes and do my best for you

I'll also be using this because I got it in the middle of writing this and thought it fit the idea I had going super well 🙏 that makes three Arlecchino requests with prompt 13 😭 also second anon you're fine dw you guys are free to do with your requests with these prompts as you like, mix them together, add extra descriptions and rambles it makes it more fun 👍 thank you btw 😭❤ feel free to give yourself a name for future requests if you want ❤️ I love having new anons

prompt list

It is not often that Arlecchino shows her doubt, maintaining that half-pleasant façade to hide it all. If all people see is a ruthless woman with no regard for loyalty, then the details don't matter. There's no need to question, no need to dwell. She is one thing and nothing more, and she much prefers for nobody to notice the hesitancy in her drastic decisions, the thin-veiled regret as she watches the children she witnessed grow up go on to become valiant children of the Tsaritsa.

If there is anything more, it is disregarded as her unpredictability. She is a roach in the eyes of others, and perhaps she's ok with that…mostly.

To hear someone say "I love you" is strange to her, though it shouldn't be by now.

It shouldn't be unusual to wake up tangled in the sheets with you by her side or the struggle it ends up being to leave that mess as you try to convince her to spend five more minutes with you. It shouldn't be odd to discover that you've gone ahead and made her tea in anticipation of the time she will wake up or to have you remind her every morning that you hung her coat up to dry after she dumped it over the back of a chair the night before or to see you wandering around going about your own job.

But those events all feel surreal to her, even though she has watched you walk your patrol path a thousand times now, and she has seen you slack off where she sits by the window of Zapolyarny when you think nobody is looking.

You are very real, there's no doubt about that.

The things you do never click with her, however.

Perhaps you are real, but she made up these fantasies after watching you loiter by that one spot in the garden a little too long.

Yet every evening, you meet her in her office after you're officially let off for the day, and you usually bring snacks. You are most definitely there, then, as she watches you struggle to get through the door without damaging whatever you found for her to try, usually only small, a pastry you managed to get that you absolutely mustn't knock from your hands.

"I tried to get something that wouldn't make a big mess all over your stuff," you usually say, sometimes hacking on a 6guilty little "But~ these just looked so good…" to try and excuse you for bringing something that would cover her desk in crumbs.

Arlecchino doesn't mind because you went to the trouble of getting her something.

She got you a special chair to pull up and everything, and anyone else who uses it can deal with the death glare they get or find a different one.

But perhaps she made that up too, conjuring the image of someone fumbling their way through her office door to greet her with a smile, sometimes with jam on your mouth from taste-testing the gifts that she'll point out to you that you hurriedly wipe on your sleeve and pretend it was never there.

Maybe she put that chair there for nothing, and it never really moves, and each time she thinks this, she is sure this fantasy will all disappear.

However, every evening, without fail, as the sun begins to set out the window and the room is dyed an orange hue, the door opens, and there you are again. Delusions can't possibly be that persistent, and you would've scowled at her when she approached you in the hallways if you weren't aware of this relationship.

So it must be real, which she's well and truly aware of. There must be a person out there who sees what she cannot, someone who, by some miracle, manages to see past the things that block out all of the good. How can a person see anything but someone unworthy of their love?

What else is there to see? 

The idea of a person who deserves to be loved beneath bloodshed has become unthinkable.

For a person who has been exposed to Arlecchino's worst sins, who has seen everything, and whose worst offence in life is a little laziness on the job, how is it possible to look at her and smile?

Arlecchino often wonders as she watches you. She how you go through your routine of placing your things down, whether on the desk or beside them, then all too happily mosey on off to get your chair and drag it over to sit across from her. She doesn't know why it's this particular day that she asks. Perhaps the fact it was weighing on her mind after a recent mission had her list of redeeming qualities shrinking further and further. It is in her job description, and there are plenty of worse people in this world.

But do you deserve to be stuck with one of them?

"Did you ever feel pressured into accepting my feelings for you?" Arlecchino asks the question so suddenly as you're halfway through walking back with your chair that she sees the exact point you register what she said, freezing in place from the shock. "Whether through status or power," she adds.

You blink a few times before all the motion in your world resumes to greet you with the image of her staring you down from the other side of her desk, patient and waiting for your response. "Sorry?" You let the chair go to return alone to her, standing in the place where you always put it. "I don't, uh…follow? I'm sorry, I just— I'm not sure what you mean?"

She hesitates, momentarily glancing down before her age returns to you and your uncharacteristic expression riddled with worry. She must've made you upset again.

"You want to be in this relationship? With me, that is…" Arlecchino struggles to think of the words, saying them as soon as they appear in her mind. "Even though you know the kind of person I am, you still want that?" 

She studies your face as carefully as she can, watching the way you react as you absorb everything you just heard and assumedly try to put a response together in your head. Arlecchino has noticed before how you take longer to speak than her sometimes, but it tends to make everything you say more thought out, though you may end it like you're unsure.

"Well, I mean…if I didn't, wouldn't I just—" you pause for only a second— "break up with you?" There's silence after you finish. She doesn't say or do anything. To Arlecchino, that strangely almost makes sense, but you must be far too bold to admit that to a Harbinger. "It's not that I want to! I'm a little--…well, I think I'm just a little bit confused where that's coming from."

"I was thinking about it." You frown when she admits that. "Some of the things you have seen of me are…" Is there even a word to encompass that? "unbecoming of a lover."

Is that the right way to phrase it?

Again, you pause, and the telltale signs of consideration cross your face. An intense focus that barely lasts, and Arlecchino waits through it all to allow you your chance to answer, intent on allowing you that much. A few seconds more, and your features relax, looking back at Arlecchino with a tender gaze. "There's not really one 'right way', is there?" Your question, though rhetorical, strikes a chord with the many impulsive responses that flood her mind, all of which she keeps to herself. "You just kind of...try your best. Things might work out, or maybe they don't— the point is that you mean well and put in the work."

"That's not enough," she argues, "you deserve better."

"I deserve what I want." Your rebuttal makes sense in theory, but what do you want? She struggles to make sense of that part, the answer muddled by all of her thoughts and lost in her doubts. 

You could ask anything of her, and she would do it. Any material possession, every feeling, more love than you know what to do with in any form you desire—physical, emotional, intimate—and yet you never do. You accept her awkward hugs, that it takes her time to relax when you lay your head on her chest, the fact she sometimes snores, that her clothes may very well be covered in bloodstains when she comes home depending on uncontrollable circumstances.

You never ask for the things she has plenty of power to give you in return for those flaws.

She shakes her head, "but surely you want more."

"I don't."

"There is a lot wrong that you deserve compensation for." 

Arlecchino clenches the pen in her hand tightly, feeling the slight distress of pressure around it. She can't articulate what, not in the way she understands it; flaws is too broad of a term to use. You would instantly know and understand what she meant in a perfect world, but the world is not so generous.

"Like what?" you question. You feel that it’s obvious that nothing Arlecchino will struggle to say will shake you. She opens her mouth, prepared to refute it, headstrong and frankly stubborn as ever, but nothing comes out.

There is silence for a moment, and no one rebuts what you say. Nobody can. The only other person in the room fights with herself to yield and give in to your unwavering loyalty. In your mind, she is everything you want. There is nothing else you can ask of her than to simply accept that you wish to remain with her if only she will allow you to through her own emotional turmoil.

"Are you listening to what I’m saying?" you ask, frown creeping back onto your face as it tugs the corner of your lips down, seemingly against your will, "I could see the worst parts of you and still think you are the most beautiful person I’ve met."

Another chord is struck, her heart beating so loud it thrums in her ears like suddenly becoming aware it’s been threatening to beat out of her chest the entire conversation. She breathes, shaky and caught up in her own surprise. Somehow, she didn’t expect you to be so sweet in your words or throw her off guard so abruptly. She finds it hard to believe them. Arlecchino’s worries haven’t disappeared, only dwindled. It helps, if not completely. There is a reprieve in listening to you.

You have seen the worst of her, every crease she hasn’t ironed out, her sometimes rotten personality, her stained clothes, the weapons she cleans in your home. You have seen her walk to greet you covered in blood and gore from a savage fight, kneel before you and hold your hand with the same hands she uses to kill vagrants and petty criminals, kiss your skin with those lips that spill the vilest of curses against her enemies.

Before she realises what she’s saying, she blurts out a question, "Do you really believe that?" 

It is quiet, reminiscent of how gently you looked at her earlier as her voice barely breaks a whisper, and she can’t bring herself to break eye contact with you once she finds the courage to make it.

"I do." 

You smile at her, hoping she will smile back. A faint smile graces Arlecchino’s lips, ever the handsome picture. Her sincerity is comforting after such a scare. You still worry, and perhaps you will never stop with the way her mind likes to trick her. How long had she thought you secretly looked at her with disgust this time? You fear you won’t have an answer again, though you desperately wish for one. As much as you notice her awkwardness, dismissing some of it and observing other parts with more scrutiny, it is hard to make her talk to you at times.

"Thank you." It is all Arlecchino can think to say in response as she forgets what else she was going to challenge you on. It will return eventually, and she will face it again, but for now, it settles. Arlecchino can reasonably bury her doubt for a time.

"Can we keep talking?" you ask. 

"About anything," she confirms with a nod.

You turn away, walking across the room in pursuit of retrieving your chair from its designated spot by the wall. You pull it along, dragging it over the floor, and set it down across from her on the other side of the desk you’ve been talking across. Your seat welcomes you as it always does as you settle into place, now comfortably at eye level with her.

"In that case," you begin, taking the pen she holds and wriggling it from her hands. She relinquishes it without much of a fight, allowing you to place it off to the side out of the way. "I’m going to ask you how you are, and I would like you to answer me honestly."

"Anything for you, my love."

[flowerandblood]

The Prince and The Fox (4)

[ modern! • Aemond x friend! • female ]

[ warnings: kissing and fluff, just weird teenagers ]

[ description: After the events of her childhood, despite her best efforts, her neighbor and the younger brother of her friend Helaena, Aemond, does not want to know her. This state lasts until a house party organized by his older brother, Aegon, during which an incident occurs that will change their relationship forever. Slow burn, angst, toxic ex-Alys, rough Aemond. This is several anon requests combined into one fic. ]

WARNING: The main plot between the characters takes place in high school.Yes, in high school. The belief that teenagers wait with an intimacy when they are in love in high school is ridiculous to me. Aemond and the character here are the same age. Don’t ask me how old they are, in my country you are of the age of consent in your first year of high school and an adultin the last year of high school, so if it is more convenient for you, think about it that way and decide for yourself. In this story, I am not following the trail that they are magically friends right away, but how they become friends and what that even means. I’m writing this fic to give the perspective of young, lost people, not adult women who want to see exactly themselves in everything they read. If that’s all you expect, this isn’t the fic for you.

I don’t want whining about this in my comments or asks. I will delete these and block you. You have been warned.

Aemond + Evans Series Moodboard

This is my first story that has its own playlist, but yes! Get in the mood! Story Music Playlist

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She and Helaena lay side by side, watching the second and first parts of Shrek, laughing out loud, speaking their favourite dialogues from memory, however, her thoughts kept running back to what happened a few hours earlier. She clenched her eyelids at the mere mention.

They kissed.

She had no idea if that was good or bad.

Did he now think of her as easy to get?

Did he despise her now?

She had a lot of doubts swirling around in her head and for some reason she felt like crying again, even though the experience itself turned out to be incredibly pleasant for her.

It was her first kiss ever.

During the night she couldn't sleep, twisting from side to side, restless, listening to hear if perhaps he was up or walking down the corridor.

There was complete silence.

She shuddered when, a few hours later, her phone's display lit up and vibrated loudly, waking her up and blinding her; for a moment she struggled to open her eyelids and adjust to the light.

After a while she succeeded and unlocked the keypad. She saw with a pounding heart that she had received a message from him.

She swallowed loudly, feeling the rapid pounding of her heart, the cold sweat on the back of her neck.

Fuck.

She wrote him back quickly, deciding that just 'no' would sound too dry and might let him think she was angry with him.

He didn't write back for a long time and she was afraid of what he would reply, that he would write back to tell her that it all made no sense, that it was a big mistake and that he regrets that they did it.

She felt like she was about to cry and vomit from stress and fear at the same time, all she could hear and feel was the hard pounding of her heart.

She jumped down on the bed next to Helaena when a notification suddenly displayed on her phone that she had received a new message from him.

She drew in a loud breath, tightening her lips and swallowed hard.

She rose silently, slipping the duvet off her, walking slowly barefoot towards the door. She furrowed her brow as she grabbed the handle and pressed it, the door began to open with an unpleasant creak of wood.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

She glanced out of the corner of her eye at Helaena, horrified, but she merely turned in bed, sleeping on.

She left without closing the door, afraid that another sound like that would surely wake her, and ran on tiptoe through the corridor towards his room. She knocked quietly feeling that her whole body was quivering in terror.

She thought he preferred to tell her what he thought of her to her face.

He opened it for her and looked around the corridor to make sure no one had seen anything, letting her in and closing the door behind him.

The only light in his room was his lamp standing on his desk, surrounding the whole space with a pleasant, warm glow.

She stood in place playing with her hands, staring at the floor, afraid to look at him.

"Did you want this? You know…what we did." He muttered wearily, his fingers rubbing against each other in a nervous gesture.

She looked at him surprised, his face stony, she had no idea what he was thinking. She swallowed loudly, not knowing what to answer, looking at him with her lips slightly parted.

"Yes." She admitted with shame, feeling herself tremble all over.

Silence.

A long one.

She felt like she was about to die.

"Me too. What now?" He asked, as if he wanted her to tell him the result of a maths equation.

She looked at him in disbelief, not believing he had said that. They both seemed extremely surprised by this discovery, by what had happened.

She licked her lower lip, which was almost burning with nervousness, having no idea what to answer.

"I... I don't know. It's probably too soon to… you know." She muttered, and he stared at her in silence, she felt that she couldn't very well convey what she was feeling, what she was realising.

Good God, she was attracted to him.

She really was, but it was too early to talk about a relationship, they barely knew each other.

What was she supposed to tell him?

"I…I just wish I could spend some time with you occasionally. Or just text you. If you feel like it too, of course." She said quickly, lowering her gaze again, feeling like she was in kindergarten when she couldn't express herself properly.

"I like the way things have developed between us over the last few weeks. I don't want to ruin it with unnecessary haste. But I don't regret what we've done." She said finally, lifting her uncertain gaze to him.

She saw him nod and swallow loudly, letting the air out of his lungs, as if he felt relieved, as if he didn't know himself what to make of it all, what to think of it, how to behave towards her now.

"Mmm."

They stood like that in silence, looking away again, not knowing if they should add anything more, she could feel the tension growing between them again, his hands clenched into fists.

"Do you want me to go back to Helaena now?" She asked uncertainly, scratching her shoulder, feeling with embarrassment how much her hands were trembling.

He looked at her and hesitated for a moment.

"…Yeah." He muttered, lowering his gaze, sliding his hands into the pockets of his black sweatpants.

She nodded, feeling an ache in her heart for some reason, knowing, however, that it was the right thing to do. She walked past him and glanced at him standing next to the door.

"Good night." She said softly, looking over her shoulder, his lips tightened.

Silence.

He looked like he wanted to say something else and she didn't know if she should leave or not.

They stood like that for a moment, she heard him swallow loudly, he wasn't looking at her.

"Do you wanna kiss again? Before… you know. Going back to normal." He grunted out in a low trembling voice with difficulty and embarrassment, as if he didn't believe those words had left his mouth.

She stared at him with her eyes wide open, feeling her heart pounding fast, heat spilling over her lower abdomen.

Oh God.

She didn't know whether she was more terrified by his request or by the way her heart squeezed with joy, a wave of heat flowing through her body.

"Y-yeah. Okay."

She muttered embarrassed at how desperate she was, how hot she was at the thought that he wanted to touch her again, that he liked it too.

She swallowed loudly as he drew his hand towards her, looking down at her with his lips slightly parted, his gaze dark and hazy. She gently grasped his fingers and approached him feeling her heart pounding hard, feeling butterflies in her stomach and a pleasant tickle between her thighs.

For a moment they just stood looking at each other, his trembling hand gently slid her hair off her shoulder behind her back. She felt a pleasant shiver at that touch, close, intimate, filled with some kind of affection.

She felt his thumb on her cheek as it dug in and ran over her soft skin, his healthy eye looking at her as if half asleep, dreamy, his warm breath enveloping her face.

He leaned over her and their foreheads touched, she parted her lips slightly in a hastened breath feeling as if they were burning with the desire for him to touch her already, to relieve her.

It seemed to her as if he had read her thoughts, his lips clung to hers in a soft, warm, calm, loud kiss. She closed her eyes and sighed, reciprocating his gesture by placing her hands on the sides of his neck, her fingers trailing along his jaw.

He groaned and kissed her deeper, suddenly clamping his hand in her hair and pulling her tighter, surprising her completely, making her sigh loudly into his mouth, throwing her hands over his shoulders, wanting to feel him as close as possible.

The tips of their noses rubbed as their lips danced and brushed against each other, sinking into each other's soft texture, spreading each other's moisture and saliva, both of them panting quietly, his pleasant, warm breath, his closeness calming her.

She knew she should pull away, that this was supposed to be just one kiss, but instead their lips found each other again and again, their hands stroking each other's hair and cheeks.

He pulled away from her for a moment, pressing his forehead against hers, not letting her go from his embrace.

"− maybe − maybe stay with me, just for a little while longer − if you want −" He whispered in a low, trembling voice, as if he was afraid of what he was saying and of her reaction, that she would laugh at him, that she would spurn him.

Hey, Cyclops, do you have a girlfriend?

She pressed her lips together at the thought that he might have thought he was repulsive for her.

She nodded her head.

"− do you want to lie down? − I - I won't do anything to you −" He muttered, adding a second sentence quickly, afraid she might misunderstand him and get scared. She felt her throat dry up and couldn't get anything out, so she nodded again.

He took her hand gently and set himself down on his bedding, laying on his side, facing her, his head on his pillow. She lay down right next to him, looking up at his face.

He put his hand on hers, stroking it with his thumb, and just looked at her, sighing heavily, as if what was happening now required a lot of effort on his part. She smiled at the thought, and he blinked.

"What?" He muttered, wrinkling his brow, embarrassed, his hand stopped in mid-motion.

"I like you." She said softly, sincerely, warmly, feeling wonderful and safe, never had anyone been close to her like this before, no one's touch gave her such pleasure.

She heard him swallow hard and lower his gaze, embarrassed, his thumb began stroking her hand again.

"I like you too." He whispered softly and looked straight into her eyes, there was something intimate, private about it.

She lifted her hand slowly and touched his cheek, running her fingers over his face as if she were treading water with them, she heard him sigh quietly and closed his eyes, drawing in air loudly.

She moaned as he leaned closer, their lips naturally clinging to each other in a hot, wet kiss, he pulled her to him, she could feel the warmth of his body, the trembling of his hands, his restless, laboured breathing.

She blinked when she felt something in his trousers pulsate hard, hitting her stomach. He drew in a loud breath and pulled away immediately, looking at her shocked.

"− I − I'm sorry − I didn't mean to −" He mumbled out embarrassed, and she looked at him surprised, not knowing what he was actually apologising to her for.

"What was that?" She asked amused, raising her eyebrows and he looked at her with parted lips, she had never seen anyone so embarrassed and horrified before in her life.

He licked his lower lip in a nervous gesture, she had a feeling he was never going to get out what he wanted to say, complete chaos in his mind.

"− I − I think I just like you a bit − too much now − you know what I mean − right? −" He asked uncertainly as if to see if she knew what he was talking about, not believing that she could have been that unaware.

She blinked and pressed her lips together, opening her eyes wide when she realised what he meant, felt her cheeks turn all red and swallowed with difficulty.

"− I − if you're uncomfortable, then go − I'm sorry, I didn't mean to − fuck, God, why −" He growled, pressing his face against his pillow, unable to look her in the eye, clearly embarrassed that he was unable to restrain his physical instincts.

She looked at him in disbelief.

He desired her.

"− no − I mean − nothing happened − I felt good about kissing − I know you won't hurt me − it's okay, really −" She mumbled out sincerely believing her words.

He pressed his lips together, looking at her as if in pain, and sighed heavily, lowering his head back down, pressing it to her forehead, stroking her cheek and hair.

They lay like that without saying a word, just looking at each other, breathing quietly, she felt her eyelids growing heavier as she drifted off into sleep, her fingers trailing over the exposed wrist of his other hand.

"Sleep. I'll carry you to Helaena later." He whispered softly, rubbing the tip of his nose against hers, and she hummed quietly under her breath and closed her eyes, concentrating only on the pleasant touch of his warm hand, his thumb stroking her skin.

She felt safe.

She shuddered, not knowing where she was or what was happening when she felt someone lift her, darkness all around her.

She squealed quietly and he hushed her, stroking her back, grabbing her under her hips, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist and throw her arms around his neck.

"− shush, Foxy −" He whispered, opening his door quietly, walking slowly towards Helaena's bedroom. He stepped inside trying not to make any noise and placed her gently on the bed beside her, looking at her for a moment longer.

He just ran his thumb over her cheek before lifting himself back up and leaving, closing the door quietly behind him.

She fell asleep feeling a pleasant heat in her heart.

She was falling in love.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

[satocidal]

hi I hope you’ve been doing well <3 could you possibly write Gojo making female reader! cry during s^x and her using her safeword? basically the aftermath of that as well. tysm 🫶🫶

𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ 𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳“Careful There!” — Gojo Satoru

Synopsis:- You should’ve known better than to tease him—I mean, I don’t blame you but I don’t blame him either; so now you’re all tied up for him, and his pleasure alone. He’ll push you right over the edge—slowly, but just as carefully, he’ll bring you back too.

— word count: 2.6k

— An: Heavily, like heavily inspired from this thing I heard once💀 I mean, yk. I can’t even find it now but like core memory lmao. And also because mean Gojo is an all time favourite of mine so- sorry not sorry. Hope you like it Anon baby<3 also like it’s very stretched out and the build up is sort of a lot? The main shit is at the end so lol💀

— Tw: !MDNI!AFAB!Reader; Porn without much plot; degradation (reader gets called whore, slut, etc); implied sub-dom dynamic; impact play (like three(?) pussy slaps; spanking); hair pulling; praise; use of safe-word; Mean Gojo+ Soft Gojo; mentions of filming/pornography; mentions of Nanami; All characters are of age; use of sex toys; crying (reader cries; use age of “sir” when referring to gojo; feminine nicknames used.

You knew you shouldn’t have, you knew it everytime and yet no amount of warnings would ever be enough for you to learn- would it?

That’s how he saw it, he loved it, oh Satoru loved it oh, so much, perhaps beyond compare, when you went out of your way to tease him —but sometimes, just sometimes you got out of hands. That gentle teasing wasn’t gentle— the dirty little whispers were all too loud, the back talk was entirely rude and his reputation was often ruined.

Satoru barely cared though, most of the time, he didn’t at all for you were all that mattered to him and he, to you.

But there’s only so much a man of his temperament can take, only so much even the strongest can endure—especially if you go out, a smirk plastered on your face as you wear the smallest- skimpiest piece of clothing in your closet—the one he bought for you and then ignore him all day while you chatted away with his colleagues—With Nanami.

Arms pressed together in front of you, you bent a little too well—cleavage so deliciously evident, Satoru watched you then, an amused smirk adoring his lips—you continued making aimless conversation with the younger blonde, loving just the effect you had on him—loving just how uneasy you were able to make him with a small pout of your glossed lips and movement just to inch closer to him.

He watched still as you bounced away to seat yourself next to Kento during lunch, fingers playing with your hair as you batted your eyes at him—Satoru only watched.

He wouldn’t ever be described as a jealous man, after all, but cruel? That could find its way a couple of times.

So, He watched still as you got on your tip toes to kiss Kento’s cheek to greet him good-bye and he watched as you winked at random strangers in the street, aware all too well that with Satoru looking beside you, not a single soul would even dare to walk your way.

But then he watched still as you whimpered, his fingers grasping your hips a little too roughly- a bruise sure to be found the next morning while he lead you through the street to his house—he watched pleasantly still as your face contorted, another whimper ready to befall your mouth as he pushed you onto the couch.

“Bend,” his voice, a command and you knew everything that was coming.

There is a time for everything and you had gained experience enough to realise that being a brat was not the perfect time when Satoru lost his smile around you—and yet, a brat remains a brat.

You grinned and you raise a brow—“No,” your lips spelled out—and that was quite literally all it took before his massive form towered on you, eyes a tad bit darker than the usual.

His brows raised now— “We can do it my way or your way,” his voice was stable, “just know that neither is going to be easy for you.”

A lip bite, eyes averted- he watched patiently as he’d done all day—and a moment later you found yourself bending over the arm rest.

“The silly brain of yours is actually working Hm?” It was rhetoric, but obvious and yet you had fought each urge of yours to mutter a “more capable than yours.”

The issue lay with the fact that you fought and fought and lost, finally muttering it a second later with a grin on your face—Satoru loved it.

No words escaped him this time, rough hands working fast to push your head deep into the couch, raising your hips to get better access—spreading your legs to shame you a little too much.

“Tell me,” he mused, smirk all too evident, “if I inspect your pussy right now—will i find it wet?”

You had also learnt over the years of dating him that there was no right answer to this question—not even silence.

“No,” you lied instantly, curious to where that would lead you—he hummed, fingers just then prodding deep at your panties—soaked.

Squelch!- the room was so quiet, the sound so prominent, Satoru couldn’t help but smile wide—“Let me rephrase, how soaked would it be?”

Your face burned at that instant, eyes shying away to even look up at his shadow—“He got you wet doll?” His voice deep- fingers teasing your entrance through the material of your wet panties, “You’re so easy as to get this wet by him? And he didn’t even reciprocate your advances baby,” his words were mean, fingers meaner in the way they avoided your clit- in the way they avoided touching you just how you wanted.

“It’s not fair is it?” You could feel him squat down—face right at your panty-clad pussy, breath hot, teasing—“you tried so hard, he probably wanted to fuck you there on the table when you bounced your tits for him—” his other hand just then grasped your thigh, spreading you all the more for him—“but yaknow’,” his fingers landed a quick slap on your cunt—“I’m generous right? Maybe I should film you tonight yeah? Make the prettiest little videos and share it to him—oh, why just him? I could show my pretty whore around to everyone,”—another slap—“That’s what she likes right?”

He couldn’t see you, sure, but he knew you all too well, he knew your teeth were clamping down hard on your lips, your tight little hole clenching and moans begging to be let out.

You heard him hum again, “I don’t think you can take me tonight doll,” your eyes widened—“Toru’ please!” Another slap—sharper.

You let out a groan—“I’m sorry sir,” you instantly mumbled, “Please please please, I can take you, gonna take you so well—wanna be your-”

“-Fuck toy?” He interrupted your rambling, “Wanna be my plaything? My pet?”

You nodded immediately, then and there—any and every ounce of shame having left already—“Beg,” he got up from behind you—walking painfully slow as he admired the view of your upturned ass—“Beg just like I’ve taught my pretty slut.”

And that was your cue, body lifting off the arm rest, not even daring to pull down that tight fabric of your skirt to compose yourself—just falling on your knees instantly—Satoru manspreads all the time, an invitation to do the obvious—but you just find it 10 times hotter when he’s mad at you.

You crawled in between his legs—hands reaching up to undo his pant—to beg properly—your fingers fumbled around the button when—“Did i say you could do that?” His voice was sharp, condescending.

Your eyes widened, hands retracing their path immediately—“Sorry sir,” you muttered under your breath—he sighed.

“You’re never gonna learn, are you? Never gonna realise your place Hm?” He leaned towards you, fingers gripping your jaw, squeezing your cheeks together—“Whores are dumb right? You’re a dumb whore right?” You couldn’t help but nod helplessly, eyes boring into him.

He chuckled at that, faux—“Do it, like I’ve taught you to,” every word was punctuated by his foot judging your thighs, “Yes sir,” your whimpered.

And just like that, you found yourself raising yourself just close enough his clothed crotch, Palms rubbing at his hard-on, “Use yourself in the right manner,” you heard him say and you sighed, it would in fact prove to be a long night.

Your face found itself moving close to his crotch, his musky scent registering inside you well, a scent you loved—all together, you could feel his fingers grip your hair gently, pressing your face roughly at his crotch. You couldn’t help but gag- your body itself trying to back off as your nose filled in with his scent, and it got harder to breathe.

You heard him ‘tsk’ at your attempt and his hand pulled your head roughly away from him—“What have I told you doll?” He sounded like a disappointed guardian with his tone, “You can gag all you want, cry too, but never back away yeah?”

You nodded, remembering his instructions well, “Sorry,” you muttered and he shook his head- “Let’s do it again yeah?”

His voice was so gentle, so opposed to how he was in the moment as he bucked his hips into your face, tears lining your eyes as you did your best to keep your face pressed to his crotch.

“Good slut,” he finally muttered, as he let you back away slowly, “This what you wanted to do to him yeah?”

“No,” you shook your head quick, “Never.”

He scoffed—“get up,” he prompted- watching lazily as you scampered around him, “To the bed and I wanted you naked and in position,” it wasn’t anything new- you’d heard him say it all the time but just the way this time he didn’t smile, just the way it wasn’t a text either, just something about everything told you that it would be a different night.

———

Your teeth bit down on your lips hard—the pressure building on your cunt slowly, ever so slowly, it ached.

“Toru’” you whined—a sharp sting—your head tilted to the side while your cheek beared redness form his slap, face scrunching in pain.

“Sorry,” you mumbled—voice barely audible—you lay there on all fours, naked, ass raised in all its glory—red and marked with his handprints—his.

“And I dared to think I've taught you better doll,” his teeth were gritted, jaw clenched as his hands pumped his own cock slowly—savouring your sight.

“Such a needy cumslut you've proved to be hm? Just begging for attention— can't even take my name right,” another sharp slapped he landed, grabbing and squeezing your ass roughly—“so wet and messy when I haven’t even used my damn cock,”

You could only groan as the slow buzz of the vibrator in your cunt increased.

“Sir please,” you begged, “Pleasepleasepleaseplease wanna cum so bad I’m so close,” all falling to deaf ears as he did nothing but squeeze your ass.

No words—before you could even realise what was happening you felt his fingers spreading your folds—so pink and puffy and pretty, he sighed at the sight.

Your shame and embarrassment only grew as he got close, nostrils inhaling your scent and he spat on your slit—“Don’t even need it, do you?” He voiced our loud—“Greedy little slut.”

You couldn’t help but let out a high pitched gasp the moment his tongue contacted with your clit right after his words—your back arched, tears streaming down your puffy cheeks as you tried holding onto your release.

“Gonna cum sir—please,” your voice was shaky now, the feeling was overwhelming, and you knew you were approaching your limit.

But not yet- you could take more, right? And so Satoru continued, tongue lapping onto every last corner of your folds—the vibrator long forgotten and removed.

“You cum tonight without my permission and this whorehole of a pussy you’ve got will not milk me anytime soon yeah princess?” He’d pulled you up now, closer—sweat and tension heavy in the air as he grasped onto your throat and pressed your back to his chest.

You wanted to shout no, you wanted to say you’d be his good girl but in the way his fingers bullied your pussy—his cock had not even touched you yet—the angry tip leaking Precum��in these ways you could only babble.

Soft moans and whispers of his name leaving your mouth, head almost empty of all thoughts.

He didn’t seem to notice yet—not for a while, you already had shifted though, slowly losing control over your body.

“Turn,” he prompted—you complied accordingly, dying to be validated, dying to hear him call you his good girl.

He pushed you into your back instantly—your eyes were still puffy, tears and drool marking your face—“such a needy, filthy one you are huh?” His voice was meaner now—your eyes, dazed.

“I could replace you, you know,” in an instant—too mean—what did he mean? Your thoughts spring fast—replace you?

“I’d have a million people lining up you know, far fucking better at this,” tears lined your eyes again, not of pleasure or pain this time—hurt.

Your thoughts ran wild—had you been that rude to him? You wondered as much as your tiny fucked out mind could manage—was he really angry at you?

“No,” you whimpered—his cock lined up at your entrance finally—and just as you were getting what you’d care we all day, you didn’t want it.

Not anymore.

But you hadn’t said it yet- not your safe word—Satoru continued, his vok pushing deep into you.

Your eyes rolled back, fingers clutching onto the bed sheets beneath you as you but your lip—“Toru!—Fuck, s’much, wait,” your pleas seemed empty, hollow.

He thrusted in again, deep—almost pulling out before coating his cock with your slick and pushing in deeper—you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Red!” You screamed—his eyes widened, pulling out of you instantly, guilt all too evident.

Silence crept in slowly, for a good minute only the buzz of the forgotten vibrator sounded in the room.

Satoru held your form close, palms sweaty and clammy, the scent of sex heavy in the air—“You alright doll?”

You shook your head, his heart sank.

“Shit,” he began, “I’m sorry I didn’t- I didn’t notice-”

“-would you actually replace me?” Your voice was small—eyes wide as you gazed up at him.

His brows furrowed as he looked down at you—“what?”

Confused—until it came crashing down—“Of course not princess,” he smiled, hands stroking your hair, “You’re my only one you know that right? Only one.”

His voice was firm—eyes scanning for any bruises that may make you uncomfortable as he kissed your forehead—“Anything I say during sex is highly superficial ok?”

You nodded—he chuckled, “I’m sorry,” he paused, “did I get too rude? Mean? Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head again, earnestly, “You couldn’t,” he smiled, “sorry,” he mumbled again, softer against your skin.

“S’fine,” you mumbled back—“let me get you cleaned up?” His eyes gazed at you—“unless you wanna…?” A mischievous smile played at his lips—“still haven’t given my princess her climax, have I?”

You giggled—you loved him.

“I’ll take that as a yes alright?” He giggled this time as he fared his hand through your hair, “you’re the prettiest and the best girl you know?”

You smiled, so did he.

“And I’m so proud of you too,” he continued, laying you with your back on the bed, “Such a brave little doll yeah? My doll.”

And let’s just say if he didn’t get you to cum instantly on his fingers, with all that praise you’d have done it anyways.

All of this work is entirely original and my own—please refrain from copying or reposting.

Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!

[aquagirl1978]

I was wondering what makes chevalier your favourite? ☺️

Oh anon, today is your day, the day that I finally respond to this ask. Yes, I've been putting this off because well, reasons.

Chevalier has been my favorite since Day 1 - even before the game was released in EN, I saw some posts about him and already, he was the one. While his route suffers a bit from being one of the first 3 released, I think his Romantic End more than makes up for it. But it is really in his events where you see this other side of him - the human who found love - that he really shines and a lot of these reasons come from there.

He makes me cry (happy tears). Okay, I know this really isn't a reason. And I know lots of people cry at many of the routes. But I don't. So when I do, it means I really, really, really like a character. And his Romantic End reduced me to tears. His events leave me teary eyed. And even Gilbert's route god damnit made me cry 3 times - all because of Chevalier. God help me when his sequel drops in EN.

He loves you. Like, he really, really, really loves you. I think he might even love you more than you love him. Here is a man who loves you so much, he will do anything for you, like play a silly Valentine's Day game. A holiday he puts zero worth on, but because you do, it has meaning. He quietly eats all the beignets you make - they taste so good because you made them.

He is kind. He doesn't think he is kind - and most would agree with him, but you see his kindness in so many different ways. The way he warned you in his route to be wary of everyone. How he stayed away in his amnesia story when he knew it would hurt you. And there's this one scene in his sequel (Drama End) that is perhaps his ultimate act of kindness.

He is a good man. He might not be the shining ray of sunshine Leon is, and many of Chevalier's actions are, well, a bit rough? Harsh? But he doesn't have an ounce of malice - what he does, he does to protect (country, family, you). Even Leon agreed that Chevalier did the right thing on Bloodstained Roses Day. Chevalier also kills all the assassins in his route to protect his brothers. He allows himself to be the brutal beast so that his favorite brother Clavis can continue to be human.

He is awkward. You are his first for everything - his first love, his first touch, his first hug and kiss and everything else. He's learning, with you as his teacher. It's a slow progression, but worth it to see how his touch changes.

He is playful. Unless you read his events, you won't see this side of him. But he can be teasing when alone with you, sometimes he is so bad he is a bully. He likes to bite and leave marks. If you try to wake up too early, he is liable to drag you back to bed and hold you tightly.

He finds you worthy to stand next to him. To him, you are perfect.

I'm gonna end this right now before this becomes a book too late.