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philistiniphagottini · 3 months

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Zephyr's Bliss

thinking about hot dragon men lately and I am down so bad for them. ((if people like this, then I'm so willing to do more of this kind of stuff with the other dragon men ;) ))

cw. penetrative sex, double penetration, oviposition, light breeding kink, gn! reader

nsfw below the cut

"You’re doing so well, Dan Heng" you softly praised.

He took a deep breath, pointed ears twitching forward at the sound of your sweet voice whispering to him. You brushed your hands along his flaming cheeks, the skin burning brightly under the gentle caress of your hands. His jade eyes sought yours, pupils narrowed into thin slits as he gazed into eyes just as dazed as your mind. A pleasant shiver rippled down your spine as he rutted his hips forward, slowly sinking both of his draconic cocks further into your tight, creamy hole. A breathy whine of his name escaped your parted lips as your eyelashes fluttered over your searing skin, eyes threatening to slip close from the spike of pleasure rippling across your naked flesh.

A shiver crept down Dan Heng’s back as you tangled your hand in long, soft locks of ebony hair, curious fingers poking the ridged edges of his glowing horns. They glowed faintly in the dim lighting of the room, the effervescent glow dancing along Dan Heng’s pale flesh and highlighting his handsome features. Another breathy whine fell from Dan Heng’s parted lips as he nudged his cocks deeper into you, the fat heads brushing against your soft spots and causing stars to waver in your vision. You hummed softly beneath him, legs tangled loosely around his waist as you slanted your hips forward, gently rocking yourself to the rhythm of his thrusts as he buried himself deeper into your snug walls.

"So tight" Dan Heng panted, his hot breath puffing against your perspiring skin. "You feel so good."

He nuzzled his face into your chest, lazily spreading more of his scent over you as his drooling cocks ravished your insides until a white, creamy ring formed around the base where your bodies were joined in fervid rapture. You scratched your nails along his scalp, feeling his cocks throbbing in unison inside you as your lidded eyes watched him move intimately beneath your skin, the soft bump in your stomach tempting you to smooth your hands over your swollen abdomen. You smiled softly as you tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear, lips ghosting over his skin as you kissed his damp forehead.

"You’re so deep" you sighed against his skin.

Dan Heng’s arms snaked around your waist as he pulled you closer, nose pressed against your skin as he smothered himself in your scent. The intoxicating smell curled in his lungs with each deep breath he took, threatening to consume him as the tension in his stomach grew taut. His hot breath was trapped against your skin as he tasted you on the tip of his tongue, swallowing thickly as his hips started to rut a little faster into you, instincts driving his body higher and higher with need.

"Are you sure about this?" Dan Heng asked for the umpteenth time this evening. "Are you sure…about taking my eggs?"

You offered him a soft smile as he peered up at you, desperate eyes pleading for an answer as his tail coiled around your leg. The smooth scales tickled your skin as it twisted between your parted thighs, the tip swishing and tangling in the sweat-soaked sheets beneath you. You pecked his damp forehead again with your lips, hands cupping his cheeks as you nodded your head in reassurance.

"I’m sure" you replied.

You drummed your fingers along his skin as you placed a lazy kiss on his chin. "Besides, it’s a little bit late since you’re already buried balls deep in me" you added.

Dan Heng’s face erupted with heat, causing a soft chortle to stir in your chest at the flustered look he gave you. He huffed loudly; eyes narrowed as his teeth suddenly pinched the damp skin of your chest in retaliation. You jolted beneath him as his sharp teeth sank into the areola of your sensitive chest, tongue flat against a pert nipple as he sucked harshly on the puckered skin.

"Ouch! It was a joke! I’m sorry!" you squealed.

A playful growl stirred in his chest as you coaxed him off you, a pretty bite mark left behind as he popped off your skin. Your lips brushed against the tip of his nose as you loosely coiled your arms around his neck, feet pushing into the beautiful dip of his back as you coaxed him to sink his cocks further into you. Your blood simmered hotly in your veins every time your mind wandered back to the thought of your boyfriend filling you with his eggs, his cute belly swollen with his clutch as the rut of his hips refused to cease. Your sex ached as he buried himself inside your creamy walls, dragging his draconic cocks over every sensitive nerve ending and setting your teeth on edge. The tips of your fingers felt numb as you raked your nails along his shoulders, digging the sharp talons in when another hot, spike of pleasure drenched your entire being as the coil inside of you threatened to snap at any moment. Dan Heng moaned sweetly, his sharp claws scratching at your skin as your plush thighs tensed around his waist.

Your teeth gently tugged at his ear, playing with the earring dangling from the lobe as another sweet noise stirred in his throat from your ministrations. His jaw tensed; brows furrowed in concentration as the boiling heat bubbling inside of him threatened to snap the fraying edges of his sanity. He couldn’t wrap his head around how warm and tight you were, throbbing walls clamping down on him and trying to coax everything he had to offer. You fit together perfectly, like a matching pair of puzzle pieces, incomplete without the other. His mind started to swirl with the thoughts of laying his eggs inside your fertile body. There was a small doubt that he could rear young, but with you, he was willing to believe in a miracle.

You shuddered beneath Dan Heng as you felt a knot start to form at the base of his cock, the bulge pushing incessantly at your sopping hole and begging to fill you. You pulled on the baby hairs at the nape of his neck, taking deep, shuddering breaths as you tried to relax the tension in your muscles. Your eyes slipped shut as you moaned softly, feeling Dan Heng’s teeth nipping at your throat. His thumbs rubbed soothing circles into your hips, dipping into the pretty dip of your v-line as his hips nudged into yours. Your toes curled as his cocks pulsed periodically inside your soused walls, teeth digging into your supple flesh as you writhed so exquisitely beneath him. His tail tensed around your thigh, thumping hard into the mattress as the tension reached breaking point. He hissed through clenched teeth as he swallowed thickly, kiss swollen lips parting around your name as his voice grew breathy.

"Can’t hold back" he whispered hoarsely. "Gonna cum…"

Your legs squeezed tighter around his slender waist as you rubbed your hands along his shoulders, trying to ease the tension from his body as he teetered on the edge.

"It’s okay Dan Heng" you encouraged. "You can let go. Please, breed your little mate full of your eggs."

Your tempting words had the tension inside of him snapping in an instance, the knot at the base of his cock finally slipping into you with one last snap of his hips. You cried out, a constellation of tears brimming in your eyes as you were stretched to your absolute limit. A loud growl bubbled up the back of Dan Heng’s throat, his cocks kicking as he painted your insides with thick ropes of white. You squirmed beneath him as you were filled with delicious warmth, the searing heat making your eyes roll into the back of your head as your world exploded around you. Fireworks sparked in your stomach as Dan Heng continued to thrust his hips into you, the friction threatening to turn your bones into dust as you felt your hole stretching around the bulge of his cock.

Your lungs pinched in your chest, heart jumping up into your throat when you felt the first egg start to pierce your centre. You thrashed beneath him from the foreign feeling, eyes snapping open as you stared at the place where your bodies were joined. You felt every intimate movement of his cock as it pulsed inside of you, another thick load of his cum exploding inside of you as the egg was eased into you. Dan Heng hushed you gently as your back arched up into his touch, hands holding your hips steady as the first egg breached the deepest, most sacred parts of you.

"Shh, it’s okay" Dan Heng soothed. "You’re doing so well. It’s almost inside. Just breathe."

A wet sob was wrenched from your bruised lips as the egg nestled inside of you, your racing mind only quelled once you realised how comfortable the transition had been. You had worried briefly that the shell would have been hard and scrapped your insides, but it had been surprisingly soft, like leather.

"Just breathe" Dan Heng reminded you.

You released your baited breath, body slowly sinking back down to the mattress beneath you even as another egg knotted the base of Dan Heng’s cock. Another spurt of cum filled your sticky insides, followed quickly by another as a small bump began to form in your soft belly. Dan Heng smoothed his hand over your abdomen, his palm resting against your swelling stomach as he pushed another egg inside of you. His cheeks burned at the sight of your blissed out face, twisting with unadulterated rapture every time another egg joined the small clutch. Somewhere amidst the dizzying heat stuffing your aching hole you felt your orgasm take a hold of you, coil in your stomach unfurling as your veins were filled with white hot euphoria. Exhaustion quickly settled into your bones as you rode out the waves of your pleasure high, drenching the sheets beneath your tangled bodies as pearls of Dan Heng’s cum dribbled down your quaking thighs.

You only managed to catch your breath once the last egg settled with the rest of its brood inside of you, pushed past the tight ring of muscles of your fluttering hole. Dan Heng’s lips were a soothing balm against your searing flesh, the small brush of his lips a welcome blessing as he whispered soft praises of your name.

"You did so well. I’m so proud, you took all of my eggs."

Each sentence was punctuated by a soft kiss of his lips, mouth trailing up to your face only to pepper it with more heated kisses. You giggled softly as Dan Heng hugged your sore body to his, wrapping around you like a protective blanket as he held you close. A deep purr rumbled in his chest as you brushed your lips back against his, his eyes shimmering with an affectionate look. His cocks kept your centre plugged and you couldn’t recall a time in your life when you had ever felt this full. You weaved your fingers through his hair as you shifted beneath him, trying to find a more comfortable position to lay in as his clammy skin stuck to yours. Dan Heng noticed your discomfort as he nudged his nose against your soft cheek, hands massaging your muscles as an apologetic look flashed across his features.

"I’m sorry, little love. We’re going to be stuck like this for a while. Just until the knot goes down."

You shrugged softly. "It’s okay."

You knew exactly what you were signing up for when you had agreed to this in the first place. You hummed pleasantly beneath him as he rubbed your swollen stomach, feeling his clutch of eggs pushing into his hand as he whispered soothing words to you.

#my writing #honkai star rail #honkai star rail smut #dan heng x reader #imbibitor lunae #dang heng smut #x reader #gn!reader #hsr smut #hsr x reader

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nightingalescall · 2 months

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Weight of the World

Kingdom of Ebreau:

prologue|part 1(you are here)|part 2

"You really do look like God."

Zephyr caressed your cheek with his thumb as he smiled lovingly at you. He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours before raising his other hand to cup your face.

He stared into your eyes, awestruck before signing blissfully, "You look just like him....". You remained silent at his blatant display of affection. Zephyr continued, nuzzling his nose against yours as he closed his eyes and let out a content chuckle. In an effort to ease the awkwardness you felt from having the saint be so close to you, you adverted your gaze to the side, landing on your and Zephyr's reflection in the standing mirror situated in a corner of your room.

Zephyr was dressed in his usual white robe but today, he had put extra care into his hair and tied it in a low ponytail using a black ribbon. As for you, you had long since changed out of your old blouse and shorts. In fact, the temple gave you a makeover and threw out your old clothes the moment you stepped foot inside the building, saying your current attire was "unsuited for their beloved Messiah". It had been a few days since your "fall from heaven" as the devotees liked to call it but you still clearly remember the absolute bewilderment you felt when the nuns handed you your new clothes. Holding a golden dress with black beads as embellishments around the collar, skirt and hem of the long sleeves, the nuns grinned brightly at you, expectantly waiting for you to try it on. It looked more expensive than your total salary as the guards' errand girl(which wasn't a lot but you still could never imagined spending all that money on one piece of clothing). You declined at first, unable to accept such a gift but the dejected expressions and teary eyes that immediately came onto the faces of the nuns made you reconsider. Reluctantly, you took the dress from their hands. You stepped inside an empty room nearby and changed into the dress. Oddly enough, the dress fitted perfectly. Not too big, not too small. It was a wonder how they matched your measurements so well.

You slowly creaked opened the door, feeling bashful and self-conscious for wearing something so....Different from your usual attire. Your body felt foreign to you as you struggled to walk normally, thinking you should change the way you carry yourself in order to better match the sophisticated aura the dress brings. Feelings of doubt crept into your mind as you began to regret being so gullible to the nuns.

But what's done has been done. The door opened and dozens of eyes snapped towards you as you reappeared from within the room. The staring made you feel even more awkward.

"Does it look weird?" You asked, hoping to divert their attention and save yourself from the uncomfortable silence. Zephyr was the first to move. He immediately came forward and grasped your hands in his. His smile was wide as he answered. "You look wonderful, Messiah." He seemed a bit breathless.

Thud!

You heard something heavy hit the ground and some frantic voices come from behind Zephyr. You peered over his shoulder and saw that a few devotees had fainted.

"Messiah? Are you alright?" Zephyr's voice rang in your ear, cutting your flashback short. As you came back to reality, you saw Zephyr's reflection in the mirror staring back at you, a concerned frown clear on his face.

"Yes. Sorry, I was, um...." You tried to come up with an excuse as you turned your gaze back at him. Your eyes flickered towards his ponytail and a lightbulb lit up in your mind. "I was admiring your new hairstyle."

A bashful smile spread across Zephyr's face the moment you finished your sentence. "Do you like it? I'll tie it up more often if you like." He blushed slightly. Before you could reply, a knock came from the door.

You saw Zephyr's smile drop before he turned away and excused himself to go answer the door. Now with the saint out of your personal space, you could finally breathe again. Even if Zephyr wasn't cruel or strict in any way, his position as saint was still quite daunting. You felt like you needed to be on your best behaviour whenever he's around.

Sighing in relief, you took a seat on the edge of your bed, the soft mattress sinking lightly with the addition of your weight. You stretched and heard your joints pop softly before you reached for the cup of water placed on the bedside table. Bringing the beautifully decorated porcelain cup to your lips, you took a sip.

You held the almost empty cup in the palm of your hands as you stared down at your reflection in the water after you had your fill. Your face came into view and you were once again reminded of how familiar and yet foreign your face was now.

In the water, a pair of golden eyes looked back at you. This was the mark of Calerus. This was what the temple used to determine you were their Messiah. Calerus had given you the same golden eyes he had when he declared you his lamb that day. You are the one and only human in Ebreauan history to ever possess golden eyes. You're the first person to ever resemble their God. Such was the infatuation the devotees held towards your gaze, fawning whenever you even looked in their direction. So far, Zephyr is the only one who could somewhat keep his composure around you.

You stayed seated on your bed, waiting for Zephyr to finished attending to the person who came knocking. It was taking longer than anticipated.

"...me help the Messiah put them on, Saint Zephyr." Your ears perked up at the mention of your name(or your title to be exact) from the doorway. You glanced over at Zephyr and saw he was conversing with a young monk. You leaned back a on your bed, trying to get a better look at him from your position.

The monk seemed to notice movement within his vision and moved his gaze from Zephyr to the inside of your room. You both make eye contact and you finally notice the brown box he was holding in his hand.

A package?

The young monk's voice suddenly echoed through your room, drawing your attention from the box back to him. "M-miss Messiah. H-hello!", he waved enthusiastically at you, a toothy grin plastered on his flushed face. "Please allow me the honor of-" "Thank you, Brother Esten. I'll take it from here." Zephyr suddenly cut him off, snatching the box from the young monk's hand before slamming the door in his face. You jumped, startled as the door closed with a loud bang.

Zephyr walked over to you, holding the box the young monk had delivered, his usual kind smile back on his face. "Sorry that took so long, Messiah. Brother Esten can be a bit stubborn but he is a good soul." He smiled and handed you the box. You took it from his hands as you nodded. "Did he want something?" You asked, shaking the box gently as you tried to guess what was inside based on its weight.

Zephyr shook his head before reaching for the lid of the box. He lifted the lid and revealed the contents inside. A pair of black ballet flats. You raised an eyebrow in confusion.

You didn't order any shoes.

Zephyr simply chuckled at your expression before taking the flats out of the box. "These are a gift from the temple, Miss Messiah. We thought they would go well with your dress." He said as he went down on one knee in front of you. Placing the flats on the floor beside him, he gestured towards your feet.

"May I?"

You hiked up your dress, revealing the old brown boots you've worn even before becoming the guards' errand girl. They've been with you through thick and thin, through stormy and sunny weather so it pained you a bit having to say goodbye to them. Zephyr slowly undid your shoelaces and slipped the boots off your feet. “Brother Esten had asked to help you put on your new shoes but I informed him that I could do it. He was persistent though, insisting that he should be the one to do it.” He began to recall, taking one of the black flats and slipping it onto your foot.

“In his words and I quote, “A lowly task like this shouldn’t be handled by the saint. Let this humble servant of god do it instead.” I, of course, refused.” Zephyr relayed what transpired at the door just now as he slipped on the other shoe and checked if they fitted you.

You nodded, unfazed by his confession. Zephyr had been constantly at your beck and call ever since you became Messiah, lending his aid even when unnecessary. He goes out of his way to serve you and make your new life as comfortable as possible. In addition, you've also noticed that he had taken over the other nuns and monks' jobs of serving you, such as delivering meals, giving you fresh clothes and other menial tasks after a few days of observation. Sometimes it truly feels like he's your servant rather than your colleague.

You take a look at your new flats too, admiring its design. They fitted perfectly just like every other clothing the temple has given to you. "They're very comfortable. Thank you." You thanked Zephyr for helping you put on the shoes despite not needing the assistance. He smiled tenderly at you before reaching out to hold your right foot in his hand. "You're welcome, my Messiah." He pressed a kiss on your foot.

Your eyes widen in surprise at his action. You blushed and adverted your eyes to the side, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. No matter how much time you spend with him, you don't think you could ever get used to his odd affection towards you.

"Miss Messiah..."

You heard Zephyr's voice call for you before feeling some weight on you lap. You looked down and saw he had placed his hands on your lap before resting his chin there. He gazed up at you, a look of concern plastered on his face. "You seem distracted today." He frowned. "I noticed you staring at your cup in a daze just now when I was talking to Brother Esten." Zephyr said as he moved one of his hand from your lap and reached for your hand. He gently rubbed the back of it with his thumb as he continued, "Is something bothering you?".

"Oh..." You let out, not expecting him to point out your habit of daydreaming. They've become more frequent after you came to the temple as Messiah. You just had a lot to think about. Your duties, your future, your new role and now the future of Ebreau as well as the well-being of its citizens. The role of Messiah required you to stand with the people and lead them towards a better life. The sudden drop of weight on your shoulders of being Messiah was a heavy one indeed.

"I'm fine. Just a lot to think about especially with how Ebreau is right now." You confessed and sighed, sharing your concerns about the country's current state. Zephyr reached up and cupped your face, making you look at him. "You have a heart of gold, my dear Messiah. I understand that with the way things are presently, you have much to worry about but please remember to not overwork yourself. Too much stress will do no one any good." He stated firmly, his eyes clear and free of doubt, wholeheartedly believing in what he said just now.

You were shaken by his conviction as you fell silent, processing his words. You nodded after a while. "You're right. I'll try my best to manage my anxiety. Thank you, Saint Zephyr." You thanked him, grateful he helped you snap out of it.

Zephyr smiled before leaning in to kiss your cheek. "You're welcome, Messiah. Also, please just call me Zephyr." He pulled back as he looked into your eyes, his gaze soft and warm. "Thank you, Zephyr. You may call me (y/n) too." You smiled back.

For a brief moment, you saw the corner of Zephyr's lips twitched. He suddenly looked down at your lap, avoiding your eyes before taking a deep breath. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at his behavior.

Did you say something wrong?

"One would suggest thee to not push the saint's self control too much."

A familiar voice rang inside your head. It was Calerus. You perked up at his sudden presence. "Oh, hello." You thought in your mind. The God of prosperity had a tendency to randomly pop up and speak to you directly through your mind ever since you became his lamb. Sometimes it was advice on what to do as Messiah and sometimes it was just to give one-off comments about the situation at hand. It was the latter this time.

Zephyr suddenly sprang onto his feet, pulling you off the bed by your hands as he did so. Not expecting the sudden pull, you stumbled and fell into his chest. You heard him chuckled as he wrapped his arms around your waist and hugged you tightly against him. You looked up from his chest and stared at him, perplexed. Zephyr simply laughed, "Let's take a walk in the garden, Lady (y/n)."

~✟~

The temple's garden was big and well kept. The flowers here bloomed splendidly, attracting little bees and butterflies to come play on their petals. The soft breeze of the afternoon blew gently, weaving through the yellow leaves of the aurum trees lining the walkway through the garden and shaking them lightly. The soft rustling of leaves paired with the running of water from the nearby fountain was a pleasant change in atmosphere that you desperately needed at the moment.

Zephyr walked beside you quietly as he let you bask in the warm afternoon sun and relax yourself. You sauntered through the garden, going off the pathway and inched closer to the various flower beds. You admired the flowers and couldn't help but smile at the sight of them.

It was a welcomed change of pace. You never found yourself to be a flower lover but here you were. Perhaps it was just a lack of exposure to them in the past.

"This is nice." You mumbled, crouching down and observing a butterfly on a purple flower. "What's this flower called?" You pointed at the flower as you turned your gaze up at Zephyr.

Zephyr smiled and joined you, crouching down beside you. "These are meripurlets."He started as he tucked a loose hair of yours behind your ear. "Their flower language is devotion." He smiled.

You raised your eyebrows at his words. "You know flower language?" You tilted your head. Zephyr chuckled, "Just the few that are commonly used around the temple."

You nodded with a brief "I see." and went back to the flowers before you. Their colours were vibrant and its leaves were evergreen, signifying that they are well taken care of. The shade of purple was nearly identical to that of Zephyr' eyes. You stared as you wondered who's in charge of taking care of the garden, awed by their dedication to these flora.

...

"...siah!"

A voice too soft and distant suddenly caught your attention. You couldn't make it what the voice said but it sounded frantic. You looked around the garden as you searched for the source of the voice, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Beside you, Zephyr did the same except instaed of being confused, he seemed more cautious and alert.

"Messiah!"

The voice got louder and closer as you heard it call for you. You turned and looked towards the entrance of the garden. A man waved at you as he ran over, tripping on his feet as he did so. Behind him, you see two guards tailing him closely, screaming at him to stop.

"Sir, stop this at once!"

"This is an act of trespassing and will have you arrested!"

The man ignored their demands as he continued to sprint towards you. As he inched closer, you noticed he looked familiar.

Mr. Citris?

Before you could confirm your suspicion, someone blocked your view, shielding you behind them. It was Zephyr. He kept you behind him, his hand holding onto yours in a tight grip as he watched the man approach.

You heard a thud come from in front of him. You tried to peer over his shoulders to see what was going on but unfortunately, he was too tall even when you went onto your toes.

A familiar voice rang and you confirmed who the man was.

"Saint Zephyr! Please let me see the Messiah!"

Mr. Citris pleaded but Zephyr didn't budge.

"My brother, while the temple is open to all followers of his Lord, Calerus, the garden, however can only be accessed by the devotees of this temple." His voice was deadly cold, unbefitting of his usual warm manner.

"I know, my saint, I know! But please! I'm at my wit's end. Please just let me talk to the Messiah!" Mr. Cirtris begged. He really did sound panicked. What got him so worked up? In your mind, nothing could ever shake Mr. Citris.

Mr. Citris is a farmer who sold fresh produce at the central market. You remembered passing by his stall when you were shopping there a few times. He scared you at first. His tough appearance paired with the ever present scowl on his face, it wasn't just you who felt reluctant to approach him. It was only until after you heard more about him from the guards that you changed your opinion on him.

Mr. Citris lives near the northeast outskirts of Ebreau. There, he has a plot of land where he use to plant his vegetables and fruits. His wife passed from complications of childbirth many years ago so it's just him and his daughter at his home.

However, life seemed to be particularly unfair to him as his one and only daughter suffers from a degenerative muscle disease that causes her to have difficulty moving. She still tries her best to help out her dad in his field but she can only work for so long before the pain kicks in. She's been prescribed some medicine to help slow down the degeneration and ease the pain but from what you heard, the medicine is quite expensive and is an extra burden on them when they can only make enough money to put food on the table each day. However, Mr. Citris somehow made it work by selling his products at the market and doing odd job around the city. Tiring as it is, he was able to make enough to afford the medicine and food for his daughter.

From then on, you invested in his small business when you could and even spread the word of his predicament around so people would consider buying from him more. You're not sure if it helped but at least you've seen an increase in customers at his stall ever since then.

In short, Mr. Citris was a big guy with an even bigger heart. Family was everything to him and you admired the lengths he went to for his daughter.

"My brother, the garden is a private resting place for the devotees and workers of the temple. You're intruding on the Messiah's personal time." From your angle, you could see the frown on Zephyr's face as he looked at the man.

Mr. Citris sounded like he was on the verge of crying as he called for you, hoping you would listen to him from behind Zephyr's back. "Messiah, please give me some of your time! It's about my sick daugther!" That immediately caught your attention. Zephyr continued to shield you behind him.

"Brother, you need to leave."

This time, Mr. Citris was silent and you felt a chill run down your spine at Zephyr's demand.

Zephyr stared him down and once he made sure Mr. Citris had nothing more to say, he ordered. "Guards, please escort this man out." Footsteps sounded as the guards approached Mr. Citris.

"On your feet, sir." One of the guards demanded when Mr. Citris remained unmoving on the ground. "I..." Mr. Citris breathed shakily. The guard who had previously ordered Mr. Citrus to move leaned down and grabbed onto his arm, ready to pull him up. Just as his hand touched Mr. Citris, another appeared, its touch soft but firm in stopping any further action.

You stepped forward, coming out from behind Zephyr's back. Pressing your hand onto the guard's, you stopped him from taking Mr. Citris away.

"Lady (y/n)?" "Messiah?" Zephyr and the guards let out in astonishment.

You kneeled down onto the ground as the guard withdrew his hand from Mr. Citris. Mr. Citris kept his head down, his eyes fixated on the ground. Now on the same eye level as him, you could see the redness at the corner of his eyes.

He was holding back tears.

"..."

Something big must have happened for Mr. Citris to be this desperate.

"Mr. Citris, what happened to your daughter?" You finally asked. Mr. Citris' head suddenly snapped up and stared into your eyes, his own wide in shock, seemingly only noticing your presence after you called for him.

"My Lord..?" Mr. Citris whispered in disbelief, his body trembling. "Sorry?" You asked back, caught of guard by his question.

"C-calerus." A invisible question mark appeared above your head.

"I'm (y/n), Mr. Citris. The Messiah. You asked to see me, no?" You attempted to correct.

"Mes...Messiah?" He repeated as if he was unsure of your dentity even after you told him

"Yes." You nodded and smiled at him, wanting him to believe you. Mr. Citris' mouth stayed shut as he blinked, staring at you as he seemed to ponder something profound.

You lightly coughed and asked again, ignoring his stare. "So, tell me, Mr. Citris, what happened to your daughter?" You wanted to get to the bottom of Mr. Citris sudden visit.

At your question, he snapped out of it, shaking his head as he took a breath. "Y-yes, Messiah....Of course..." He mumbled under his breath before meeting your gaze once more.

"I...It's..." Mr. Citris stuttered, his voice shaking and you saw tears well up again in his eyes. "Take a breath. Slowly now." You patted his shoulder reassuringly.

Mr. Citris breathed in deeply and calmed himself. "My daughter....She has a degenerative muscle disease ever since birth but she has been prescribed some medicine to help with the sickness. They are expensive but I am able to pull together enough money each month to buy them by selling vegetables I've planted on my land at the outskirts of the kingdom." He began to tell and you nodded. Nothing you didn't know of.

He suddenly paused, swallowing as he seemed contemplate something. You raised an eyebrow and ushered for him to continue.

"No need to be hesitant, Mr. Citris. Let me hear it."

Mr. Citris nodded and continued. What you heard next stunned you.

"Recently, my house got attacked. By...by the Casvians." Your eyes went wide at his words. Behind you, you felt Zephyr stiffen.

"Casvians?" You repeated, not believing your ears.

Mr. Citris nodded. "They attacked my house, burned my land and my crops with it. I managed to save my daughter and myself before they got to us." He said mournfully. You listened attentively, nodding each time he looked at you for conformation to carry on.

"We've been living at an inn in the capital for the past 2 weeks but with my land gone, I've lost my main source of income from selling vegetables and fruits on the market. I...I can barely afford food for us both now, let alone...." He trailed off but even with no words spoken, you knew what he was going to say.

He can't buy medicine for his daughter.

You bit the inside of your cheeks. This was a tight spot for Mr. Citris. Food, medicine and now accommodation? Even if he did still have his land, you doubt that'd be enough to afford all three of them.

He said Casvians attacked him but how? You knew Mr. Citris' house was near the boarders between Ebreau and its neighbouring country, Casviren but it couldn't be that close to where he would get caught in the crossfire.

Then, assuming he isn't lying, for the Casvians to attack Mr. Citris' house would only mean either the Casvians are getting bolder or...

Ebreau's defenses are falling.

You clenched your fists as your expression hardened.

The situation may be more dire than you thought.

This kingdom is falling apart. Fast.

You took a deep breath and steadied yourself. The state of the kingdom needed to wait for now. First, you need to help Mr. Citris.

You turned back and looked up at Zephyr. "Does the temple have spare money to buy the medicine for his daughter?" You asked, standing back up and facing him. Zephyr was silent as he stared at you, his face unreadable. You felt uneasy at his silence. You glanced downward briefly and saw his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Was he angry?

The thought crossed your mind for a second but you quickly brushed it off. Why would he be? You're helping someone. There was nothing wrong in that.

Right?

Zephyr noticed that you have spotted his curled up fists and quickly release them. He cleared his throat before answering. "While the temple does not lack in terms of money, the Royal family specified that the funds given to us should be spent on strictly temple related matters and nothing more." Zephyr said, his lips turning down into a small frown and his eyes softening in concern.

"Them, is there anyone in the temple with medical training that can help Mr. Citris' daughter?" You refused to give up, searching for another way to help the man.

To your dismay, Zephyr shook his head, a look of sorrow on his soft features. "There are some nuns and monks that have basic medical knowledge but I am not aware of any that are experienced enough to able to take care of someone with this sort of disease."

You bit your lip, your eyebrows knitted together in worry. This was bad. How were you going to solve this...

Just as you were going to begin panicking, Zephyr gave you something that lessened your anxiety. "However, if Mr. Citris likes, he may collect meals from the temple." You tilted your head at his suggestion. Zephyr smiled at you and elaborated. "The temple prepares food for all devotees everyday and most of the time, there will be leftovers. If Mr. Citris doesn't mind, him and his daugther may have the leftovers." Zephyr looked at Mr. Citris behind you. "I know it's not what you wanted but hopefully, it will at least decrease your financial burden." Zephyr added, bowing his head apologetically at Mr. Citris.

You turned and looked back at Mr. Citris. He was staring at you and Zephyr, unmoving and silent.

"I...Thank you, saint. I am grateful. Any help is appreciated." Mr. Citris lowered his head. He sounded... Disappointed.

Everyone fell silent. The light breeze that tickled your face had stopped blowing and the sun that shone brightly had dipped behind the horizon, leaving behind only streaks of its rays as the afternoon turned into evening and soon night. You sighed silently and hung your head like Mr. Citris. You felt so ashamed at your incompetence. As Messiah, the people expected you to lead, to guide, to help but today's encounter showed you that you were still far from fulfilling any of those requirements.

You were Messiah in name.

Power and will?

You can only pray Calerus will give them to you in the future.

Mr. Citris sniffled and the boulder weighing on your heart became heavier. You felt a hand on your shoulder. "You're trying your best, Lady (y/n). Don't blame yourself." Zephyr whispered into your ear. At that, you loosened your fists which you didn't know you were gripping.

Yes, calm down, (y/n). Nothing can be accomplished by moping around.

You inhaled deeply before kneeling back down. Mr. Citris kept his head low, unwilling to meet your gaze. On the ground beneath him, you saw small splotches.

He was crying.

And he didn't want you to see his tears.

Your heart ached at his predicament but what else could you do?

Carefully, you reached for his hands. You clasped them in yours as you pulled them close to you and shut your eyes.

There was nothing left to do but pray.

You mumbled your prayer, loud enough only for you and Mr. Citris to hear.

"Calerus, our lord high above."

Your grip on Mr. Citris' hands tightened.

"A problem arises that cannot be solved by our mortal hands."

I'm sorry, Mr. Citris.

"Please grace us with your mercy and benevolence in this time of need."

I wish I could do more for you.

"Spare the daughter of this follower of yours. Let her pain be subsided. Let her agony be gone."

But, alas, I am a fraud.

"Give the daughter the strength to overcome that which plagues her body. Give the father the strength to overcome that which plagues his mind."

I am only a pawn in Calerus' hands.

"Let your power be seen through this pair of parent and child."

I am at Calerus' mercy.

"Earnestly, we pray."

Clink!

Your eyes snapped opened at the sudden sound.

Clink! Clink!

You looked around, confused at what's making that noise. It sounds like....Coins dropping?

Clink! Clink! Clink!

You gazed down. On the ground between you and Mr. Citris, a few gold coins laid there, some still spinning in place.

Clink! Clink! Clink! Clink!

More appeared, seemingly falling from thin air. They fell rapidly, like they were overflowing from their source. You were perplexed at where they were coming from until you looked at your hands.

Gold coins seeped out from within your sleeves and onto the ground. They flowed like water, their speed and frequency of appearance increasing rampantly.

"What in the..." You gasped as you looked in disbelief. Gold coins were basically pouring out of your sleeves right now.

"Messiah...!" Mr. Critris gasped as he finally lifted his head and saw the scene before him. "I, um," you struggled to find words to say in this situation.

Mr. Citris suddenly bowed down to you, his forehead pressing on the ground. " Thank you, Messiah! Thank you! Thank you! This will be more than enough!" He thanked you before raising his head, a wide smile plastered on his tears stained face. He wiped away his tears, drying his eyes as he continued to thank you. "Messiah! Truly, my Messiah!" He cried, tears of joy (you assume them to be at least) continued to roll down his cheeks despite just wiping them.

The pour of coins slowly calmed down into a drizzle before finally stopping. In front of you, a small pile of gold coins sat on the ground, reflecting the last bits of sunlight and shimmering softly.

You stared in shock at what just happened with a still emotional Mr. Citris kneeling before you, muttering incoherent thank-you's while scooping up the gold coins. Your brain was melting from having to process the weird occurrence. Was that Calerus' answer to your prayers? Or was that your power all along and it was just a matter of you not knowing? Your head was spinning.

A hand suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you onto your feet. You looked back and Zephyr glared at Mr. Citris over your shoulder, a frown tugging on his lips. He pulled you back behind him, pressing you to him so you couldn't do something he didn't expect again.

"Mr. Citris, it seems our gracious Lord has answered your prayers." His tone was cold despite the miraculous event that called for a joyous celebration. "Now that your problems have been solved, I think it's time for you to go back to your daughter, yes?" He questioned, his voice holding a certain persuasiveness and firmness in it, like he wasn't asking but ordering.

"Yes, thank you. Thank you, my Messiah...My saviour...m-my God!" Mr. Citris smiled, looking up at you. His smile grew into a grin as he began to mumble to himself. You grew concerned at his mumbling.

Mr. Citris isn't usually like this...

Before you could ask if he was alright,. Zephyr tugged at your arm and pulled you away from the scene. "Help Mr. Citris collect his money and escort him out of the temple." He ordered the two guards before quickening his place and pulling you away with him.

You were still in a daze, astonished by what just transpired. You barely even noticed Zephyr had dragged you towards one of the entrance to the temple that connected with the garden. Only when you both stepped back inside the temple did he let go.

You finally snapped back to reality as the familiar white marble walls and well lit halls came into your view. You raised your hands and stared at them. They seemed fine. Nothing looked different from before....Then, what on earth happened back there?

Another pair of hands came into your peripheral before intertwining your hands in theirs. You looked up and saw Zephyr staring at your hands in his.

"Zephyr?" You raised an eyebrow. He's been acting weird since Mr. Citris came.

You felt him tighten his hold as he breathed shakily. "Lady (y/n)..." He whispered, eyes still glued to your hands.

"Are you alright?" You made no move to pull away from his grasp.

Zephyr was quiet.

"..."

"Zephyr? You're worrying me." You voiced your concerns. Zephyr was really out of it today.

At your words, he raised his head and met your eyes. His signature smile still absent from his face.

"Did you know, Lady (y/n)?" He began.

"Know what?" Zephyr was beginning to confuse you. You thought you had a decent understanding of him now after living together for the past few weeks but...

Maybe there was still more to him than what meets the eye.

"Meripurlets and aurum trees have a symbiotic relationship." He rubbed your hands.

"Meripurlets have short roots which causes them to have a hard time finding water especially during dry seasons. To battle this, they grow near aurum trees which have long roots and can easily absorb water deep within the soil. A meripurlet will penetrate its roots into an aurum tree's to take its water. As such, meripurlets are categorized as a parasitic plant." Zephyr glanced outside towards an aurum tree.

"However, if you look in books, they will say that the relationship between meripurlets and aurum trees is mutualism. Fascinating, no?" A small smile finally crawled onto his face. You couldn't help but feel relieved when you saw it. At least he looked like he was back to normal. Wish the same would apply to his voice though.

"That is because meripurlets only take a small amount of water from aurum trees. Just enough to sustain itself. In return, they give nitrogen they absorbed from the soil to aurum trees to let them grow taller and stronger. Research also found that each meripurlet plant only ever get water from one aurum tree. It doesn't matter if another one is planted beside it, once it chooses one, it will depend on that aurum tree for the rest of its life. A very...devoted flower, don't you agree?" This was interesting and all but you couldn't wrap your head around why Zephyr was telling you all this. He continued on with his rambling.

"Despite all the good they do for each other, did you notice that the meripurlets and aurum trees in the garden are not planted together, Lady (y/n)?" This time, Zephyr tilted his head.

You recalled back to your walk. Indeed, the flowers and trees were separated from each other. You nodded, unsure where this was going to lead.

Zephyr smiled wider. "Well, another fascinating thing about meripurlets is they don't like to share."

"What?" You blurted out.

"When another parasitic plant comes and lives off the aurum tree they had chosen, the meripurlets will suck all the water from the aurum tree and will stop giving the tree its nitrogen supply. Slowly, the aurum tree will wilt and die just like any other host plants in parasitic relationships." Zephyr explained as he stepped closer, brushing his lips against the back of your fingers.

"As for the meripurlet, the excessive water will cause it to rot from within until it eventually dies." His gaze darkened and you unconsciously swallowed nervously.

"The meripurlet would rather kill the aurum tree it tethered itself to than share it with another plant. It would rather die than choose another aurum tree to depend on." Zephyr looked back down, his bangs tickling your hands.

"To this, botanists like to say..."

He leaned in and whispered into your ear.

"Devotion can kill."

~✟~

Done! Another chapter in the bag. Thank you all for the immense support you've shown for the prologue. I didn't expect it to blow up like that especially since it's the first thing I've ever posted here. Thank you again for the support and for waiting for the next chapter!(I'm a slow writer so please bear with me!(´-﹏-`；))

Same thing applies, if you find any problems, please tell me so I can make corrections in order to give everyone the best reading experience!

Taglist

@ursinaw @ceeesxy-blog @deepinballs @vash-yuu @fairy-lenaa @fleurescentlight @surprisemodafakas @cerisearan (you wrote master list but I'm gonna assume you meant tag list. Sorry if I'm wrong(T_T)) @avyannasstuff

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verinarin · 3 months

Text

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐭𝐲 - 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞.

𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 | 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐞𝐫

𝐈’𝐦 𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐬’ 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰, 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 (๑>◡<๑)

Perplexing, is a word he would use to describe her.

Completely and utterly perplexing, her every action bemuses him. It is so chaotic yet calculated that it would make one question the motive of such an act. To illustrate this, he draws an example from her exploits yesterday.

The sun graces its warmth towards the halls of the Intelligentsia Guild as he walks across the open corridor, structured with vines that wrap around its doric pillars. It’s common to meet a fellow scholar during the walk, then he sees her basking gracefully underneath the soft light that the sun provides.

Her delicate features complemented beautifully as she stared at something, something that he was eager to discover. Slowly he walks towards her, pondering on the endless possibilities that he could encounter. What renders one so much so that it left one’s lips slightly parted, a sign of astonishment.

He draws closer only to see that the object of your astonishment is nothing.

Literally nothing, the object that paints her face look so alluringly bewildered, is literally nonexistent.

“May I ask what has garnered your interest so much that your lips parts themselves?,” he asked her from behind, keeping a close yet respectful distance. She turns her face around, a zephyr gently caresses her hair as she looks at him with the same expression she had.

“Hmm, I was just admiring the lighting,” she stated like it was a simple concept to grasp. But not to him, not in the slightest.

“Pardon ?,” he pressed further to the stranger, ignoring his crass behavior.

“I was just lost in the scenery, is there anything wrong with that ?,” she asked with her fingertip pressed against her lips, inadvertently showcasing how soft and plump it is.

“A quite wasteful use of time,” he argued, she simply replied with a soft laugh as she extended her hand and introduced herself. Her name suits her, he thought to himself at the time.

He shook her hand as he introduced himself, “Veritas Ratio,” she restated his name, somehow the way his name leaves from her lips sounds like an attempt to seduce him. He knows it wasn’t, but he can’t help but to catch it that way.

“I read about you a week ago. Wow, a famously well-decorated scholar has found interest in my usage of time, how peculiar,” she teased, from then on she had unintentionally bewitched his heart.

How vexing.

#☆彡veririnwrites #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #dr ratio #dr ratio x reader #veritas ratio #veritas ratio x reader #dr ratio fluff #veritas ratio fluff

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toruro · 10 months

Text

— ✧ bark (like a dog)

a part of new rules ... a svt performance unit x mafia au series !

description. kwon soonyoung is hot. he's fucking smoking, but also painfully out of your reach—being your father's main hitman assistant means that, by the books, he's pretty much off limits. but then again, when did silly stuff like rules ever stop you?

genre. smut (18+), brief angst, mafia au

warnings/tags: PLEASE READ! mentions of murder & death bc hoshi is a hitman, descriptions of blood, reader is daughter of mafia boss, mean dom hoshi, gun play (unloaded), or4l (m receiving), jealousy, sp4nking, breath control, praise kink, blindfolds, th1gh r1iding, pet names (princess, angel, good girl), consent is SEXY

w/c: 7.3k

a/n: thank u @gyuswhore for proofreading hehe ... anyways this is like smut w a hint of plot. sorry not sorry my head's been so full of him

You don’t get nervous.

Not when you overhear your father talking about some risky new plans and not when you go out and know there’s a target on your back.

Not when you snuck out your apartment tonight without your bodyguard to just pop into the galleria that you heard some of your father’s men talking about. Which, by the way, you totally didn’t do because one of them mentioned Kwon Soonyoung being there. Yeah. Totally not.

You weren’t nervous when you waltz into the galleria, in some pretty dress pants and a cute black t-shirt that may or may not have been showing a lot more skin than your father likes. The night was going great, honestly. Fantastic, even.

Until your eyes landed on the very reason you even decided to come here. Kwon Soonyoung.

Again, you don’t get nervous. It’s simply not in your DNA.

So why does having this man next to you make your vision bleary and heart heavy?

“Did you like it?” you murmur, toeing at the grass beneath you with bare feet. You’re at your father’s house now. Soonyoung caught sight of you after you caught sight of him laughing with another woman, which totally shouldn’t have bothered you but you felt green boil in your stomach anyways.

And you watched her lead him into some other hallway with a man and then Soonyoung was gone. He was doing whatever he does, you know? You don’t want to pry into his work, but seeing as he’s your father’s favorite man, it’s kind of hard to avoid the truth.

Soonyoung was definitely just doing his job. Talked to the woman, peppered a few kisses on her cheek to butter her up, got her to introduce to a man who was maybe probably definitely his target, and then he walked out again, fixing his coat over his shoulders as he returned alone. He took you home after that.

You squirm just at the thought. Nightly zephyrs pinch at your skin as you stand in the backyard, but as you feel Soonyoung’s gaze burn into the back of your head, your body warms nonetheless.

Even turned away from him, you can practically feel the way his eyebrow cocks up. “Like what?”

You scoff and roll your eyes even though you know he can’t see you. Oh well, he probably knows anyway. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“I’m not sure I do, angel,” he replies without hesitation. Your mind races at the nickname, not because you think it’s a term of endearment, but because you’re almost sure that he’s mocking you. Angel. Fuck, everyone knows you’re anything but a damn angel, and you’d be an idiot to think Soonyoung meant anything other than to belittle you right now.

“Sure,” you mutter dryly, running one hand down your face, before turning around to face him. Kwon Soonyoung is hot, as always, with his dark messy hair falling right over his eyebrows, one of which has a little slit carved into the edge, his plump lips and sharp eyes that watch you carefully.

Even under the dim light of the night sky, he seems to glow beneath the moon.

“Are you going to be all pouty like this for the rest of the night?” When you don’t respond, he huffs loudly. You don’t want him to be annoyed with you, but you cross your arms over your chest and press your feet into the soil stubbornly anyways. “Am I going to have to call Taehyun to drive you home?”

“What, you don’t want to bother doing that yourself?” you snap. Fuck, you don’t even know why you said that. It isn’t Soonyoung’s job to take care of you in any way. Sure he indirectly does that by heeding your father’s order—by killing off any threats when they pop up, but nowhere in his title’s description does it say he needs to take you home, to coddle you, to watch over you.

“You want me to take you home?” he asks, and you want to fucking strangle him because if it wasn’t painfully obvious, then to make it clear once more, yeah you want him to take you home. You want him to pull you to his car and press a hand on your thigh and then creep it up your legs until your squirming under his touch and—

You need to stop getting ahead of yourself. Your relationship is—god, you want to say it’s professional, but you can’t even call it that. You and Kwon Soonyoung, your relationship is somehow both less and more than professional.

It’s so intimate—he’s your father’s most loyal worker, he’d go to any lengths to keep your family, to keep you, safe. And yet, even after you’ve seen the blood on his clothes and the imprint of his gun in his pants, he’s a stranger.

Not because you don’t know his favorite color, or because he doesn’t know what kind of food you like, but because even as a million thoughts run through your head, you’re pretty sure he can’t figure out a single one of them.

Finally, you speak up, reverting the topic without answering his question. “Do you really not know what I’m talking about?” Your voice is smaller this time.

“Are you trying to play a guessing game with me?”

Your glare hardens on him. “Fuck you,” you spit out, and Soonyoung puts his hands up in a surrendering motion. “The galleria—did you have fun? Did you like it?”

“Well angel, I hate to break it to you but I was just doing my job. Not that you would know, since you’ve never had to work a damn day in your life, but I don’t necessarily love my job. So if that’s what you want to know, then I guess you have your answer.”

“And with her? Did you—”

“What are you talking about?” he cuts you off harshly, and you’re slightly taken aback by the way his voice booms louder.

“Didn’t know kissing pretty women was a part of your job,” you murmur gruffly before finally making your way to the door that leads back into the house.

“Where’re you going?”

“I also didn’t know that keeping track of where I’m going was a part of your job.”

“You’re not making any damn sense right now, I hope you know that.”

Slipping on some socks, you go on, “Is listening to me a part of your job too? If not, I suggest you just leave me alone and—”

“God, what the hell are you goin’ on about, with all this job shit? Since when did you care about what I do to get a job done?”

“It doesn’t matter anyways,” you conclude, going to open the door before Soonyoung’s hand stops you.

“Stop being a brat,” he hisses, causing you to press your lips together tightly.

“I am not being a brat,” you scoff, ripping your arm away from him. “If anything, you’re the attention seeker who—”

“Excuse me? I’m sorry, attention seeker?”

“Well you were basically throwing yourself at that woman and—” Your breath hitches when you realize what you’ve just said, and you slap a hand over your mouth as you look down.

Soonyoung clicks his tongue, but it’s not as disappointed as you except … if anything, he sounds … sorry. “What do you want from me? You know it’s my job.”

You scoff, shoving your head in your hands out of humiliation. “I think you know exactly what I want from you,” you mutter. Now you’re not really sure what you’re expecting from Soonyoung but it’s definitely not his strong hand on your wrists, forcing you to look up at him.

“Do you want me to take you home or not?”

You look at him, mortified at the bluntness of his suggestion.

“I—what?”

“Look, you’re not very discreet and—”

“Oh my god, stop talking. I need to go and—”

Soonyoung grabs your face. It’s gentle, but his touch is firm and his eyes don’t break away from yours for a moment. His fingers press into the plush of your cheeks, and there’s a both nerve-wracking and alluring aura to it.

“Let’s take you home, or I tell your father where you were last night. How you left your cozy little apartment without your dear Mr. Choi who, if I recall, is supposed to accompany you wherever you go.”

You gape at him—there is no way he’s threatening you right now. You blink once, and then twice, and Soonyoung’s gaze remains unwavering.

Fuck.

Which is how you find yourself seated patiently on Soonyoung’s couch, thighs pressed together and hands on your knees cutely as you watch him fill up a glass of water. You wonder if he can hear the beating of your heart.

If he can, he doesn’t comment on it, instead breaking the silence when he walks over to you, “I hope you know what you’re signing yourself up for.”

You grin immediately. “Some fun, of course,” you reply, mentally marveling at your own wit.

Soonyoung fucking laughs at you. His eyes are peering down at you carefully as he juts the glass of water to you, and he doesn’t have to say anything for you to know that you should just take the damn glass and drink.

His gaze doesn’t waver when you bring the glass up to your lips, slowly but surely downing all its contents and letting the cool water attempt to put out the flames that burn in your stomach. “Good job,” he murmurs, smoothing one hand over your head when you place the glass on his coffee table, the simple but impactful words sending shivers down your spine.

Making the risky decision to test your luck once more, you bat your lashes and bring your arms closer together in front of you so that your tits bunch up, giving Soonyoung a perfect view from above. “So? When’s the fun gonna start?”

Something in his eyes darkens, but you choose to ignore it as Soonyoung slips his dark work coat off, letting it fall behind him on the coffee table. What follows is a heavy thud and clank and your stomach churns at the thought of what caused such a sound.

“Listen,” Soonyoung says, his voice firm but not as demeaning as before. “I need to know where your head is at.” he pauses.

You pout and then raise a challenging brow. “You don’t think I can handle it?”

Soonyoung chuckles, and reaches back for his coat, rummaging through the inner pockets for a moment as your blood runs cold in realization. He unsheathes a heavy black gun from the dark fabric, holding it close to his dress shirt as he smooths a finger over the barrel.

You try to move your fingers but they’re frozen in place as he watches the look on your face contort into some odd look of awe.

“Let me rephrase that,” Soonyoung murmurs. “I need to know how far you’re willing to go.”

The air is stuck in your throat and your lungs squeeze and writhe for some semblance of sanity, but the way his thick fingers caress the heavy metal of the gun has your vision going blurry. He’s tracing over all the dips, the curves, the crevices, and you can only imagine what it’ll feel like if you had the cool, heavy, pistol pressed against your skin while Soonyoung’s fingers are all over you.

Your eyes are clouded, and he stills for a moment, subtly sliding the gun past his side and hiding it behind his back with one hand, using the other to grab your chin and tilt your head so you’re craning your neck to look up at him.

“So be honest with me right now.”

He doesn’t say it, but you know what he’s asking for. You don’t have to think about your answer, not one bit, and that’s because through everything, you trust Soonyoung. You trust him with your life, and you trust him with more.

“I’m willing to do whatever you want,” you tell him almost immediately. There’s no hesitation, no apprehension—Soonyoung knows when he looks you in the eye and he swears he feels his heart grow ten times in his chest when your pupils dilate.

Slowly, he brings his hand from his back to the front, the grip of the gun pressing back against his lower abdomen as he squeezes your cheeks together with his other hand. Your lips bunch together in a pucker and he pinches the bottom lip for a moment, rubbing the pads of his fingers against the drool that slides down his chin.

“That’s a pretty bold statement, princess,” he finally says, a sharp clicking sound resonating through the room when he shifts the gun in his hand.

“I can take it,” you insist through squished lips, looking up at Soonyoung with some kind of determination that boils his blood with pure passion.

“You’re confident …” he mutters, holding the gun close to your cheek, pressing the cold metal against your warm skin. You can’t be sure if action helps you cool down or only heats you up anymore, but a wanton whimper escapes your lips and suddenly you have your answer.

Soonyoung watches how you swallow at the contact, fingers quivering by your side and he lets his hand relax for a second, holding the gun by his side. “It’s unloaded.”

“I-I wouldn’t care either way,” you mumble, slightly annoyed that Soonyoung dropped his hand. “I trust you.”

Soonyoung smiles, letting go of your cheeks and instead gripping the back of your neck, running his thumb up and down your collarbone. “It’s okay to be scared, angel. Two taps to stop,” he tells you, pointing at his wrist.

You roll your eyes tentatively, unsure if it’s the right move. When Soonyoung quickly presses the muzzle against your lips, you deduct that rolling your eyes was, in fact, the best thing you could have done.

“You’ve got some nerve,” he mutters, feigning discontent as he tries to ignore the way his dick twitches in his work pants when you part your mouth and let the gun sink further into your mouth.

The taste of metal on your tongue is unfamiliar, and frankly the hardness of the gun is quite uncomfortable but when you press your tongue against the base of the barrel, and swirl it over the sides, you imagine it’s Soonyoung’s cock in your mouth instead.

He’s steadying you with his hand pressed at your neck, holding the gun at an angle above you without moving it. The sight of you sucking and struggling, drool dripping down your chin and skin flushing—he’s in heaven he swears.

Cute eyes looking up at him with such desperation, pleading with him silently because you can’t speak—not with the way his gun is stuffed between your pretty lips. “Fuck, how does it feel princess?” he groans at just the image alone.

You’re silent, because of course, how could you say a thing. The only sounds that bounce off the walls are the filthy slurping of your tongue and the hollowing of your cheeks, tears peeking from your waterline as Soonyoung presses the gun further down your mouth, the now slick barrel sliding easily past your teeth.

Your jaw aches and you gag as you adjust to the feeling, but the reality of it all starts to hit you, and it’s dizzying. Soonyoung—fuck, he’s here in front of you with his gun shoved down your throat and you’re looking up at him like he has all the answers to the universe and more.

And more is exactly what you want, and Soonyoung can tell because even as squeaks erupt from your throat and your fingers tremble when they fly up and grip at his thigh, you don’t pull away and you don’t tap out.

It’s worrying for a moment, because here you are with tears streaming down your cheeks but he can hear your silent pleas of don’t stop, please, please, please, don’t stop, and he feels he might go insane at the thought that you’re just as deranged as him.

“So pretty,” he praises, and you press your lips down and whine at the way the words have your cunt throbbing. Slowly, Soonyoung starts to pull the gun out of your mouth, your jaw going slack at the feeling of your tongue being free, but your face is on fire and you just need to do more.

You continue to lap against the gun, swirling it over the circular muzzle when he’s just about pulled it out all the way, not breaking eye contact with Soonyoung for even a moment. It’s addicting, the way he watches you—bottom lip lodged between his own teeth and jaw clenched tight as he imagines it’s his cock inside your mouth instead.

“God fuck, you’re insane,” he says when you kiss the side of the barrel one last time before he carefully places the pistol behind him. For the first time tonight (and ever, for that matter), Soonyoung kisses you. He grabs your warm face and leans down to smash his lips against your swollen, tired mouth.

You’re fatigued already, he can tell, and takes this as his chance to press his tongue against yours and explore the very mouth that sucked against his gun just moments earlier. He can still taste the metal on your tongue, letting your lips melt together as one for just a moment before pulling away.

He can tell there’s a complaint threatening to leave your lips, but he makes sure it shrivels when he shoots you a knowing look. “You deserve a reward, don’t you think? Did s’good for me …”

You nod eagerly, and Soonyoung is thoroughly surprised by how quickly you’ve bounced back, trailing his fingers down from your face to your waist, pulling you up to stand on your feet. Your legs are wobbly and for a moment, you stumble forward but Soonyoung catches you, his arm steadily belted around your hips.

“Already done?” he asks, but it’s more of a tease than anything. Still, you take it as a challenge and shake your head as he leads you to his bedroom. It’s dimly lit, only the moon through the window and its reflection against a mirror leading you the way to his bed as he hops on, laying back as you stand by the foot of the bed.

He raises a brow. “What are you waiting for? Strip.”

“W-what?”

Soonyoung is still fully clothed, legs spread slightly as he hikes one knee up and watches you expectantly. “Princess,” he coos, “I said strip.”

You shudder at the request when it finally sinks in, and you quickly follow by pushing your pants down and pulling your shirt off your head, leaving you completely topless, your lower half donned with nothing but a set of black satin panties.

Soonyoung swears his heart stops at the sight, and just as you’re about to push them down, he holds his hand out. “Leave them on, come here.”

He doesn’t have to ask you twice this time, and you crawl onto the foot of the bed before making your way in between his legs, only stopping when Soonyoung places his heavy hands on your shoulders and smoothes them down your bare arms.

You sigh contently at the contact, instinctively shooting one hand between your legs to rub at the growing ache. You hardly make it though, Soonyoung’s hand shooting out and stopping your wrist halfway. “Thought you wanted a reward? Getting ahead of yourself, huh …”

You shake your head vehemently. “N-no—I jus’—need something, need you, Soonyoung,” you confess, leaning forward in hopes that he’ll meet you halfway for a kiss.

He doesn’t, opting to watch you amusedly as you squirm on all fours in front of him. “Show me how much you need me,” Soonyoung rasps out, helping you settle over yourself over his thigh before placing his arms behind his head and leaning back against the headboard casually.

Your eyebrows knit together, and you place your hands on his chest for hardly a second before he swats them away. “W-what?”

“Did you not hear me the first time?” he asks, and he’s definitely mocking you with his tone. “And keep your hands to yourself—you only get to touch me if you can prove to me you want this.”

“I want it, Soonyoung, so bad! So, so, so bad, you don’t understand!” you whine, bouncing yourself up and down to punctuate your word but gasps leaving your lips at the friction it leaves behind.

“Yeah well,” he sighs, adjusting his body so he’s laying even further back down. “Make me understand. Make yourself cum.” Your plush lips part, agape at his proposition. Why he can’t just fuck you into the sheets right here and right now is beyond you, but Soonyoung’s eyes light like a flame and you aren’t sure if you want to add fuel to the fire or put out.

Tentatively, you rut your core against the hard muscle of his thigh, the friction of his dark dress pants shooting pleasure through your flimsy panties. You have half a mind to rip the damn fabric off, but the rubbing of cloth that bunches around your clit is more pleasurable than anything.

“See,” Soonyoung murmurs, as you repeat the motion of rocking yours forward and back in a slow rhythm. “Pretty angel does know how to work for something. Let’s see if you can keep it up,” he hums, and you glower down at him.

“I-I know how to work,” you huff, grinding down extra hard as a means to prove your point, but your argument falls flat when you whimper, hands falling forward on his chest as your body lurches forward. Soonyoung’s own firm grip lands on your wrists, yanking them off of him.

“Do you, now?” he scoffs. “Can’t follow simple fuckin’ directions,” he says under his breath, and instead of glaring, your eyebrows furrow as you hold your arms close to your chest, massaging your tits yourself to keep your hands occupied.

“‘m sorry Soonyoungie,” you say softly, losing the attitude that held your head up and replacing it with a wave of compliance as you cling onto the friction against your cunt, desperate to not let your far-away orgasm to ebb away.

“Soonyoungie, huh?” he mutters, watching the way your tits bounce when you work your body in a harsher up and down motion, letting the soiled fabric of your panties to stain his own pants. “Cute name, but you’re gonna have to work a bit harder,” he comments, and he’s true to his word because Soonyoung does think it’s cute. He thinks you’re cute, and hot, and pretty, and the only person he wants to stick his dick into, but fuck, if he doesn’t want to make you beg, make you sob for it …

Fervently, you start to find a pace that’s steadily increasing, thighs burning and twitching at every brush of your sopping pussy over him. You’re wet—so wet—and you know Soonyoung can feel it through his pants. How he’s so still and composed is beyond you, and while you try to think about what’s running through his mind, your brain goes empty the second you feel one of his hands on your hips.

“So spoiled,” he chides, and you want to shake your head and protest, ‘cause no! You’re not spoiled! But you know damn well that’d be a lie, and as you feel Soonyoung flex his muscle beneath you and use his hand to help swivel your hips, it’s only confirmed.

“Hnggff—S-Soony—”

“S’okay,” he groans, when the knee that’s wedged between his legs brushes against his crotch that holds his undeniably hard cock. You both shudder at the feeling—Soonyoung because of the small but relieving stimulation, and you because of the anticipation of feeling him inside of you. “Go on, baby, can tell you’re close. Fuck yourself like this—I know you can do it.”

“Hurts,” you sigh softly as your legs begin to tremble and give into the fatigue. “Soonie, I can’t, I—” you cut yourself off with your own high pitched moan when he hikes his leg up a little higher, causing you ro shift forward and arch your back so that your clit was pressed perfectly against his thigh. “God, fuck.”

“What do you mean you can’t, angel?” he coos in that both infuriating and pulsing tone of his. “You’re doin’ it for me right now …”

“I—I …” the words dry right on your throat when your orgasm crashes into you, the ghost of Soonyoung’s name on your tongue as you fall forward. You know he told you no touching, no holding, none of that, but fuck, even he can’t be mad when you press your face into his chest with low mewls bubbling up in your throat.

Securing an arm around your waist, he bounces his thigh upwards to push you through your fall, squeezing out every last bit of pleasure you’ll allow him until you’re whimpering from the overstimulation but too exhausted to pull away.

“‘m tired,” you whine through broken gasps, as you pull away and look up blankly at the ceiling. Soonyoung watches the way your tits shift with every inhale and exhale, and before he knows it he’s fumbling at the buckle of his belt and shoving his pants and boxers down so his dripping cock can finally breathe.

The sound of his length slapping against his firm abdomen has you blinking into reality quicker than you can think, and you glance at Soonyoung who sits in front of you. His cock is standing up, pulsing tall and proud, adorning a pretty, angry tip that smears precum over his defined abs.

“Too tired?” he piques, but with the way that drool dribbles at the corner of your lips, he knows he already has an answer. Grinning when you shake your head vigorously, he shifts himself so his bare legs hang over the edge of the bed, his hands placed behind him as he leans back. “Get on the ground.”

Two hours ago, you would have shut down the proposition immediately. Getting on the ground for a man? Completely out of your scope. Unfathomable, honestly.

But Soonyoung’s voice is so … it’s—he isn’t proposing, or suggesting, or asking, no … Soonyoung is demanding and you’d be damned to let him think you’re anything less than obedient. Quickly, you push yourself up and crawl over to where he’s sitting before slipping off the bed and slotting yourself between his legs.

As you sit back on your heels, the wetness of your core slides down your thighs and as your legs press together, the arousal smears against your supple skin, undoubtedly making a mess. It feels so dirty and lewd but as Soonyoung watches you with dark eyes, you feel like the most beautiful person on the planet.

Gentler than you were expecting, he uses one hand to hold your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Angel got a smart mouth, huh,” he says, as if he’s talking to himself as he runs a thumb over your lips, starting from the top then circling down to the bottom. He scoops up some of the drool that you hadn’t wiped away and then pushes it all back into your mouth from the corner of your lips. “You think you can put it to good use?”

“‘course I can,” you say a bit more proudly than Soonyoung enjoys. You’re cute, yeah—fuck yeah—but you look up at him like it’s some sort of challenge and he just needs to remind you of who’s really in charge.

And so he holds you by the crown of your head, guiding your mouth close to his cock which dons a dribble of precum. You stick your tongue out at the sight, eyes wide in anticipation as he uses his other hand to guide your own fingers to your thigh. “Same thing,” he tells you, “two taps and I’ll stop.”

“Okay,” you agree, verbally this time with a nod before pushing your tongue back out in hopes that he’ll speed it all out because fuck, you haven’t ever wanted to feel a cock in your mouth this badly. But who can blame you? It’s so long and thick and—god, it’s so heavy when he taps that tip against your tongue.

You open your mouth wider, anticipating him to push it down further like he did with the gun, but you should’ve known better. Should’ve known that Soonyoung likes toying around with you.

Soonyoung lets you lap precum off his shiny tip, swirling over the slit for just a second before he’s lifting his cock and then slapping it back down on your tongue this time. The contact is light, but the thickness of it all and the ache in your core has you pleading for more.

When a desperate whimper rips through your throat, Soonyoung grins. And so he does it again. And again. And again. Slapping his cock on your tongue until he can’t handle it anymore, cock throbbing at just the thought of you sucking against him like you did his pistol, and slides his length into your mouth without warning.

“Fuck,” he moans, and you vaguely wonder if there could be anything that sounds more melodic. You press your tongue against the length, hardening the tip and tracing it over the curves, the veins—anything and everything you can feel—as if you were trying to memorize him bit by bit.

Soonyoung basks in it, the image of you stuffed with his cock in your mouth, lips puffy but eyes somehow begging for more. He loves it, he tells himself in his head. Such a spoiled girl, but then again, his spoiled girl.

“Ready?” he asks, stiffening his hold on your hair and giving you a knowing look. Meekly, you nod with his cock still spreading your lips, and with nothing more than a nod, Soonyoung pushes you down his full length, nose pressed against his pelvis as you struggle to breathe through your nose.

And it hurts so good—your jaw is sore and you’re on the verge of gagging because he’s so big but something about the way your lungs burn and throat tightens has your mind set on not stopping.

Soonyoung is watching you intently when he finally lets go, pulling you off of his length and allowing you a moment to breathe. He wonders how far is too far with you, but when you just pant heavily, looking up at him with your tongue stuck out once more, inching closer to him, he figures he’s still got a long way to go.

So Soonyoung does it again; softly murmurs, “Take a deep breath,” and then yanks your head down until all you can feel is his cock bullying its way through your lips, your hollowed out cheeks, your throat. His loud moans egg you on, and you nearly start to tremble at the way you start to feel light-headed. He holds you down for longer this time, and this time, tears are gushing down your face but no, you won’t relent.

Its enthralling for the both of you, and it doesn’t stop. Soonyoung starts a pattern. Push down, hold, release, repeat. Push down, hold, release, repeat. And he does it until he feels his cock twitch in your warm mouth and has to almost push you back to hold off from cumming.

He just can’t do it, not yet. Not until he’s felt you flush against his skin, bodies intertwined as he fucks into you.

So when he pulls you off this time, you know it’s the last (for now, at least). You breathe steadily, in through your nose and out through your mouth as you recuperate, staring at the floor. Gingerly, Soonyoung hooks his hands under your arms and pulls you up so you’re sitting next to him on the bed.

“Are you okay?” he asks worriedly when he catches the clouded look on your face. When you slowly look at him and nod with a dazed smile, Soonyoung just knows he’s in love. You look so happy, so eager to submit and he loves the way you trust him, loves the way you know he’s going to treasure you.

“Sit here,” he instructs, pressing a kiss to the corner of your puffy lips as he stands up and walks over in front of the bed where his dresser is.

You frown at the idea of him being away from you. “Need it no-o-ow, Soonie,” you drawl out, standing up and making your way to Soonyoung, reaching out to place your palm against the hard muscle of his back. You run your hand over him, and for a few moments, he lets you.

You can feel the twitch of each hard earned, firm muscle as he moves around through his desk space, and you silently wonder what it’ll feel like to dig your nails into his back in another heated moment. Fuck, you’re so down bad.

“You’re so greedy,” Soonyoung mutters, finally turning around to grab your wrists. On one side, you feel something cool and soft press against your skin, and glancing down, you recognize it as the feeling of black satin against your arm. “I told you to sit down, didn’t I?”

You frown, but oblige anyways, shuffling over to the middle of the bed, sitting down neatly on your knees as Soonyoung stands in front of you by the edge. He’s holding the ribbon in both hands now, the silk taut as he holds it up to your head.

“You okay with this?” he asks, pressing the silk right up against your eyes that have since fluttered shut, but he doesn’t quite tie it just yet. You inhale deeply for a second and then nod. “Words princess. I need words.”

“Yes,” you comply. “I’m okay.”

As soon as you’ve given him the green light, he’s bringing the two ends of the silk behind your head and tying it into a tight knot. “Is it comfortable?” he asks sincerely, waving a hand in front of your face. “D’you see that?”

“Uhh, yes and no,” you respond, slightly confused and still getting used to not being able to see anything.

“Good,” he says to himself, and you feel the mattress dip, causing you to lose a bit of your balance, jutting your hands out to grab onto anything. Immediately, you feel Soonyoung’s hands on you, and your muscles lose their tension. “Relax. I’m right here.”

Those seem to be just the words you need to hear, because you’re sitting back down, sitting a bit more comfortably this time as you feel Soonyoung shift around on the mattress. This is Soonyoung, this is Soonyoung, you remind yourself, and he’ll always keep you safe.

“C’mere,” his thick voice breaks through your thoughts, and you flail around for a moment trying to trace his voice. There’s a hand on your shoulder soon, guiding you toward the direction of the headboard and you tentatively crawl over, yelling out in surprise when you quickly feel two hands wrap under your thighs and lift you up.

Your shock is soon replaced with a burning desire when Soonyoung finally places you on his lap, and you can feel his rock hard length pressing against your inner leg as you settle over his thighs. All you can hear for a moment is your sharp breaths, but then there’s a hard smack against your ass.

“Go on angel … you know what you want to do—what’re you waiting for?”

You want to curse Soonyoung right now, because how the hell d’he know? But then again, you don’t really care because here he is, egging you on.

So gingerly, you lift your hips over him and shuffle forward so that your stomach is pressed against his chest. You feel one of his hands find purchase on your waist while the other reaches between the dripping mess that starts to splay between your cores and positions his cock against your soaked folds.

And then he’s presses rough kisses into your neck and sliding his tongue over your collarbone, murmuring, “Go on princess, go on,” and you can fucking hear the own want in his strained voice. Soonyoung is just as far gone as you, but you don’t have the liberty to linger on that fact for more than a moment before your cunt takes hold of all your senses and you instinctively sink down on him.

The moan Soonyoung let’s out is deep, gruff, guttural, and has your walls instinctively clenching around him and your hazed frenzy. “Good girl,” he grunts as you steady yourself with your hands on his shoulders.

Your head swings around for a few moments as your eyes well up with tears from the initial stretch, but soon Soonyoung’s soft words of praise are pulling you down to reality and reminding you that he’s right here, that this is happening, whispering sweet and filthy nothings into your ear as you adjust to having him inside you.

“See,” he croons, stroking your chin with his thumb as you slowly grind down on him, both of you letting out soft gasps at the feeling. “Being so good for me, princess,” he hums, and you can’t even see the expression on his face but you know he’s not finished. “Wonder what the boss is gonna think of this,” he chuckles under his breath.

Your fingers tighten on his shoulders at his words, hugging his head close as you anticipate what he’s about to say next, trying your best to keep your soft mewls to yourself. It’s hard—really hard—because Soonyoung is big and he’s jutting his hips upwards sharply but sporadically, making it impossible to tell when he’s going to be punching moans straight out of your lungs.

“So good. Being so good for me, but so bad for everyone else,” he whispers into your neck as you start to bounce your hips to meet his thrusts halfway.

“Fuck,” you moan, both from the way he’s battering your inside, reaching so deep you don’t even know how he’s fit.

And Soonyoung doesn’t stop there, at least not with his words. “Sneaking out—” He snaps up harshly, his fat tip pressing against spots inside your cunt that have you writhing into him. “—Lying to your dad—” He continues to punctuate himself with more rough, emphasizing thrusts. “—Going out unattended—Breaking the rules—” He grunts out especially loudly at the last one, burying his head into your beck from the pleasure that radiates you both. “But you won’t do that to me, right princess? G’na be my good girl, right?”

“A-always,” you stutter out through strangled gasps for air as your body lurches around from the deep pounding of his hips. You’re so close—fuck it, you’re nearly there, and you pulse around him, digging your face into his hair from above as you try your best to swivel your hips but then, it all comes to a halt.

“Wha—what?!” you nearly shriek when he grips your hips so tightly that you both still, and suddenly the knot that’s been tying so carefully at the base of your stomach is unraveling and not in the way that you’d like. Your orgasm ebbs away into some far distance that you can’t reach, especially not in the frantic state you’re in after having lost just what might have been the best high of your life. “Why would you do that?”

Soonyoung watches your pained expression from below with the slightest hint of a smile on his lips, quirking an eyebrow at your accusing questions. He presses a hand down on your stomach when you try to buck upwards for some—any—sort of relief. “You already came once. You didn’t think you’d get the second that easily, did you?”

Any snarky remark you’d be able to come up with withers away and all you’re left with is a big fat frown. “I—” you stutter in short breaths before huffing out, “I was s’close.”

“I know princess. But you can be good, right? Good for me?” he mutters, caressing the side of your face with the back of his hand before tugging at the silk, letting the blindfold fall from your eyes and land on his abdomen. Your eyebrows are furrowed in a way that Soonyoung can only describe as cute, and from beneath you, he brings his palm down on your ass harshly, the sound of the smack resonating through his room.

As you blink your eyes into comfort, adjusting to the dim light, Soonyoung lifts his hip, causing his length to shift deeper inside of you, and you lurch forward at the sensation of him kissing your cervix.

“Holy shit,” you whisper, eyes pressed closed tightly as he steadies your hips with his hands and in one swift movement, flips you both over so your back is to the mattress and he hovers on top of you.

You’re overwhelmed with it all—being deprived of your vision for so long and now you get to take it all in—the beads of sweat rolling down Soonyoung’s pretty peaks and valleys of abs, his dark hair splayed all over the face, flush cheeks and furrowed eyebrows as he focuses his vision on where his cock meets your cunt—fuck.

“You wanna cum?” he grunts in your ear, grabbing your face and forcing you to look him in the eye as he draws his hips back, slamming back into your sloppy cunt. Then he brings his lips right by the shell of your ear and in a hoarse, mangled whisper, he demands, “Beg for it.”

And beg you do.

You wrap your legs around Soonyoung’s waist and dig crescent moons into his shoulders, draw pretty red lines into his back and you sob into the sheets, into his shoulder. And your walls hug him in again and again and let him whisper filthy words into your ears until you can’t even comprehend the depraved images he’s drawing into your head.

Ecstasy courses through your veins and your body knows nothing other than the enigma that is Kwon Soonyoung who pushes you so far, until you’re breaking beneath him—a wailing mess as you tell him how good it all feels, how his fat cock batters your cunt so well that you can do nothing other than choke out sweet ‘thank you’s and hoarse, ‘please’s.

And he makes you work for it, just like he promised, urging you to beg just a little more, swiveling his thrusts so that each stroke hits all your sweet spots, finally giving in when he mutters into your neck, “Let go princess, let go.”

And when you finally feel every string that’s been so meticulously woven together, teetering at the edge of breaking for ages, you let it all snap. Crying into his skin as you let him fuck you into an orgasm, hitting you harder than you could even imagine as every muscle goes limp and all you know is Kwon Soonyoung is here next to you, and he here to stay, because after a few more pumps his hot cum is filling you to the brim and more.

Soonyoung kisses you like he could swallow you whole. Like he could bathe in nothing but your arms and be the happiest man alive.

It’s the realization that hits you when he collapses over you, the smell of sweat and sex consuming you as your mouths connect in a maniac passion. More. It’s always more with Soonyoiung. He’ll protect you and more. He’ll hold you and more.Stroking the curve of your hips gently, you know—he’s going to love you and more.

a/n. first part of new rules is done, three more to go! chan will most likely be next, so stay tuned hehe! i hope u all enjoyed :3

tags. @synthetickitsune @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji @todorokiskitten @98-0603 @whippedforjihoon @xiaoting999 @hipsdofangirl @valenhui @nikkixpenguin @minnie-mouser22 @minhui896 @seokchannieworld @yunjinified @dnylwoo @nishloves @woozarts @etherealyoungk (strikethrough could not be tagged) join here!

#soonyoung scenarios #kwon soonyoung #soonyoung imagines #soonyoung x reader #seventeen soonyoung #soonyoung fanfic #soonyoung smut #hoshi #hoshi scenarios #hoshi imagines #hoshi x reader #hoshi smut #hoshi fanfic #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #svt smut #seventeen smut #📝 writing

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papiliotao · 8 months

Text

꒰ 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✩࿐

pairing: lyney x gn!reader

content: fluff, modern au, high school au, friends to (almost) lovers, mutual pining, theatre kids, lyney and the reader rehearse a kissing scene

summary: playing the role of his lover in a drama production is easier said than done, especially when you’re just beginning to realize the nature of your feelings for him.

a/n: i had no inspiration for a while but then lyney came along. i’m so normal about him. anyway, i hope you enjoy reading!

When you were told that you had to kiss your best friend for a school play, you were in shock and disbelief — not because you were repulsed by the thought of playing the part of a couple, but because you realized that you didn’t mind the idea of his lips pressed against yours.

You’re not quite sure when the feelings crept up on you, dawning in your heart like the hazes of peach and azure that dust the horizon at sunrise. It feels like it’s been an eternity since you started loving Lyney, but you’ve just never noticed that your adoration was beyond platonic.

However, after experiencing your epiphany, you’ve been wondering if he shares your rose-tinted sentiments. Slowly but surely, you observe that the lines between friendship and romance have become blurred, fusing together in a myriad of watercolour hues.

Every once in a while, Lyney will hold your hand for no reason, the softness of his skin akin to the caress of gilded threads of sunlight. There are also instances where he’ll hug you for just a little too long, clinging onto you as if he never wants to let go. And of course, you’ll never be able to forget the sentimental nights spent gazing up at murals of sparkling constellations dotting pristine navy skies, where you cuddle with your best friend in an attempt to stay warm.

In these instances, a simple question lingers in the short silences, an untold inquiry that neither of you care to utter in fear of shattering the status quo.

What are we?

So now, as you sit across from Lyney atop the velvety cushions of his living room couch, ready to rehearse very kiss that sent you spiraling into a bout of infatuated hysteria in the first place, your heart can’t help but race. The melody it sings is one that speaks of perplexing feelings and a hope for fairytale endings, and it only amplifies as you look into pale violet eyes that sparkle as iridescent petals flutter about in their depths.

“I’m ready whenever you are,” Lyney whispers, smiling at you reassuringly. There’s something soothing about the expression on his face, embodying the serenity of a marine zephyr in the midst of a cruel summer.

“How can you be so calm when we’re about to practice a kiss?” you ask, voicing your thoughts out loud. “What if we’re not good enough?”

Truthfully, you’re a nervous wreck. Your fingers tremble, and your mind feels blank. You’ve always known that Lyney was born to be on stage, but you didn’t think he’d be so nonchalant in a situation like this. His disposition is completely composed, not a single spark of anxiety shining through his tranquil demeanour.

On the other hand, you’re constantly pondering the what ifs.

What if you mess the scene up? What if it turns out looking awkward? What if it’s so horrendous that it makes the audience uncomfortable.

However, in total contrast to you, Lyney simply chuckles, his voice ringing out in a clear and soothing fantasia.

“Don’t worry,” he reassures you, keeping his gaze fixated on you. “I’m sure our chemistry will be absolutely perfect. After all, even Lynette has mistaken us for a couple.”

“She has?” you blurt out, both shocked and embarrassed that Lyney’s twin has had her misconceptions about your relationship. The two are practically telepathically linked, so the tall order of fooling Lynette would more or less be akin to deceiving the heavens above.

“She has,” Lyney confirms, a mischievous spark of violet electricity blazing through his irises, “and that’s why I’m certain we’ll be able to pull this off flawlessly.”

He gently laces his fingers around your hand, bringing it up to his chest.

“Besides, it’s not like I’m not nervous at all.” From beneath the soft fabric of Lyney’s clothes, you can feel a gentle thrumming, a beat that resounds at a tempo matching that of your very own heart. “You know, even the greatest of performers get stage fright sometimes.”

In a mystifying twist, you feel more comfortable now that Lyney has told you that you’re not alone in your anxiousness. Your relief defies all logic, but perhaps it’s the knowledge that your feelings aren’t entirely unreasonable that soothes your nerves.

“I see,” you whisper. “Well I’m sure you’ll do great. We’ll get through this together.”

Lyney nods.

“I’m just glad it’s you,” he says, pausing for a moment as if deep in thought. “Actually, ‘glad’ would be an understatement. ‘Beyond overjoyed’ is more accurate.”

Your breath hitches, and for a second, the world seems to still, suspended in a momentary utopia. But despite your giddiness and the euphoric feelings that arise in your heart, you shrug Lyney’s words off, trying your best not to get your hopes up. After all, if you expect too much, you might find yourself disappointed in the end.

“The feeling is mutual. Although maybe we should get to rehearsing now. I think I’m ready,” you tell him, pulling your hand out of his grasp in a light motion, clinging on to the last of his warmth as his skin grazes yours. It’s reminiscent of fading sunlight comforting you with the dazzling radiance of a dying crepuscule, lulling you into a daze as it causes shades of twilight to waltz in a dance of fantastical wonders.

“Your wish is my command,” Lyney responds playfully.

However, after only a few seconds, his features shift into a more serious expression. Although the same smile adorning his lips, it’s softer now, more sincere.

Is this all part of an act, or is it real?

Additionally, an unidentifiable emotion now glints in a display of diamond lights, illuminating the seas of amethyst contained within Lyney’s eyes. Locks of platinum hair, composed of starlight essence, frame his face in a way that makes him look undeniably handsome. Once again, your heart, which had just barely stilled, begins to beat in a frenzy.

You want nothing more than to freeze time, stay in this ephemeral moment, relish in the sensation of his breath gently tickling your skin and engrave the ethereal sight before you into archives stored deep within your memories. But unfortunately, it’s impossible to pause the scene before you. Reality, unlike the countless movies and videos you’ve watched to study your part, stops for no one.

And before you know it, the divide between your lips and Lyney’s is diminishing, the blank space fading at a pace that feels both far too rapid yet far too prolonged at the same time.

Closer.

And closer.

Until your lips meet in a clash of opalescent sparks, shedding light and embellishing the magical moment with an atmosphere worthy of any stage. The lilac butterflies that dance in the pit of your stomach prompt sensations of glee to arise within your heart.

His skin is soft and warm, and the feeling of his lips against yours is just so right. There’s no one else you’d rather kiss. There’s no one else you’ll ever long for. There’s no one in the world you’ll ever love more.

No matter how much you deny it, your relationship has crossed the line from platonic to romantic, gradually edging closer and closer to a thin border before finally falling over onto the other side. Your kiss with Lyney confirms everything. There’s far too much passion, far too much care and longing exchanged in a single act of affection.

Best friends don’t kiss each other like this.

At this point you’re certain the feeling is mutual. Now, all you have to do is wait until one of you inevitably confesses, and you’ll both be able to finally live happily ever after, basking in the splendor of true love.

thank you for reading <3 if you enjoyed this fic, i would really appreciate it if you could comment or reblog!

#r.archives *ೃ༄#favoniuslibrary #astronetwrk #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin impact #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin lyney

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arachine · 1 year

Text

. . . fire and desire .ᐟ

ᥫ᭡ pairing :: ellie williams x fem!reader

ᥫ᭡ synopsis :: there’s nothing more ellie loves than spending a day inside with you…

ᥫ᭡ genre :: mature

ᥫ᭡ general tags :: alternate universe, smut, fluff

ᥫ᭡ content warnings :: pwp, strap sucking, vaginal penetration (strap), clit stimulation, overstim, cum eating, dacryphilia (if you squint), use of ‘daddy’, not proofread bc i’m tired!!!

ᥫ᭡ word count :: 2.1k

ᥫ᭡ note :: this is me finally making my formal introduction…hi >.< + dedicated to @luvsellie @3leni & @addisonnie

ᥫ᭡ song :: tinashe - ecstasy

brown tendrils of hair cascade over porcelain skin, clouding the vision of the girl looking down at you with a sultry expression. she’s toying with you. rubbing the smooth pad of her thumb over your spit-slick lips, all while holding your hair taut with her available hand.

“come on, baby, open wider for me,” she pushes her thumb into your mouth, the salty appendage forceful as it presses down on the pink muscle, “wanna see those pretty lips wrapped around me.”

methodically, she removes her hand from the tangles of your hair, and glides it down to rest firmly against the column of your throat. the thrumming of your pulse is strong beneath the pads of her fingers, and she taps once, twice—three times before lightly squeezing the sides of your neck.

“you can do it, pretty girl. know you can.”

her grip is firm, and demanding, but her words are sugary sweet. a juxtaposition to the compromising position she has you in—which is on your knees, nestled between her legs. it’s cruel, almost, you think. the control she has over you.

slowly, you take hold of the silicone and hold it up to your mouth, easing it past your puffy lips until the thick tip of it grazes your uvula.

“atta girl,” ellie breathes, resting a flat palm atop your head.

she watches intently as you try to keep yourself there. hands outstretched, and digging into the meat of her thighs, clawing and pawing so as to not gag.

your persistence precedes you, though. because now you’re pulling off unceremoniously, gasping wildly for just a scintilla of air. and it’s a little embarrassing—the coughing—the keeling over that ensues.

but it’s especially embarrassing when you see the crystalline tether of spit that connects from your lip to the dildo, and the pools of spit littered all over her thighs. so messy. just the way ellie likes it.

the girl chuckles at your expense. all low and confident, laced with a modicum of pity. she raises a lithe hand to caress the skin of your cheek.

“so perfect…” she says softly, “always so perfect for me.”

the praises spill from her lips like warm honey, and you find yourself eager to taste it, to pull her down to your level and kiss her silly. impulsively, you encase the sides of her face between your hands and slowly rise from your knees—albeit shakily.

in this moment, ellie’s gaze is unfaltering—

even as your knees dip into the plush of the bed, and you settle down into her awaiting lap. and even as you reach behind yourself to grasp the shaft of the silicone, sinking down onto it slowly.

lips ghost over lips but still do not touch. breaths intermingle with breaths, but still tease, and fuck, she’s had enough.

“stop it…” she whispers against your lips, callused hands falling down to your hips.

“oh, but it’s more fun this way,” you jest, flashing her a smile that’s faux sweet on the surface, but sadistic underneath.

ellie pinches your hips in disagreement. gives them a firm squeeze, and lets the fat there spill between the slots of her fingers before she uses the bony prominences as leverage to maneuver you down onto her.

a gasp emits from your throat, and you stutter forward in her hold, to which she uses as an opportunity to pilfer a kiss. the first is zephyr-light, just right. then, the few that follow suit are a little more heavy, a little more heated—passionate, and now the warmth heating in your belly has advanced to a fire overgrown.

every kiss, lick, and suckle of a tongue, has you melting further into her touch. you fear that, soon, you’ll melt into a block of clay. become pliable and moist. a project that ellie will task herself with to mold you back to life—though, you reckon she’d find amusement in your misshapen form.

the thought of her laughing at your helpless clay-form inadvertently makes you bite her lip, reminds you too much of the time you asked her what she’d do if you turned into a worm. poor ellie, you think. becoming a victim to your insanity.

“ow,” the auburn haired girl laughs, both out of shock and confusion, “you a vampire now? out for my blood?”

“yeah, gonna drink you all up,” you dip down to her neck, retracting your jaw teasingly.

“gonna drink me all up, huh?” ellie’s hands find solace on the mounds of your ass. she kneads the skin there, then pulls you up experimentally, only to let you sink back down onto the silicone. “guess it’s a good thing you’re pretty.”

you attempt to laugh but it comes out more like a strangled moan, much to your dismay.

now you’re chest to chest, legs wrapped up around her torso, and arms positioned underneath her pits. your hands wander frantically for placement but mostly settle for holding onto her shoulders, to which you hold onto for dear life as she pistons up into you aimlessly.

every sensation is heightened by the feeling of her roseate lips on your breasts. they trail mindlessly without purpose, leaving lines of saliva, coupled with the occasional bite mark.

while she works on the pastures and plains of your chest, a hand slithers from your ass to the iota of space between you. like a magnet, it quickly latches onto your clit, causing you to jump from the coolness.

ellie rubs the nub in slow, deliberate circles, and you whine for her to go faster. she shushes you, tells you to be patient. which is, you think, probably her way of getting back at you for the teasing earlier.

you mumble a plethora of obscenities into the interstice of her neck, rocking yourself back and forth, up and down, just to get a semblance of friction. but it’s not enough. you need her. need her to lay you down against the pillows like she always does—to have her way with you; pick you apart, piece by piece, and build you back up.

“need…” you start, then trail off. ellie’s ears perk up, and she smiles, all cocky and annoying.

“need what? what is it that my baby needs, hm?”

you tighten your hold on her shoulders, applying so much pressure that the skin underneath turns erythro.

“n-need more, wanna f-feel you deeper.”

ellie, ever the pleaser, indulges you without a quip. she’s quick to lay you down against the pillows, slithering in between your thighs that, oh-so-generously, make room for her.

slowly, she pushes the mushroomy tip of the dildo past the tight ring of muscle, and settles down into a position where the both of her forearms encase the sides of your head.

it’s intimate this way. with her on top of you, and you beneath her. two bodies melded together into one. every breath she takes is mirrored by your own, and every gasp you emit, every moan, mewl and whimper, is greedily swallowed by her.

“so,” a thrust, “fucking,” a kiss, “pretty,” a suck, “my best girl.”

it’s hard trying not to crumble under the weight of all her praise, but you find yourself smiling silly anyway. even through the moans that she consecutively pulls from you so effortlessly.

and you’re pretty—so, so pretty. but this is when you’ll always be the prettiest, ellie thinks. when you’re all fatigued and slick with perspiration, smiling from ear to ear while she’s working you to completion. it’s a visual that makes her heart all tight, and her cheeks all sore because…she can’t help but to smile back.

she finds sweetness in these moments. uses the love that flows from her heart to her fingertips, and draws circles on your clit, giggling into the crook of your neck when you start gripping her biceps and she mocks you for it.

“look at how hot and bothered you get over a few fingers,” she jokes, earning a playful eye roll.

“oh shut u-“

but before you can finish, ellie unsheathes herself briefly, then pushes all the way back in without warning. pathetically, you whine and arch from the intrusion, which gives ellie the satisfaction of mocking you for a second time.

“what was that?” ellie pouts, waiting for a sassy remark. she keeps her brows raised in anticipation, pushing in and out of you at a tantalizingly slow pace, all while her fingers play with the swollen nub.

but the rude remark never comes. instead, it’s replaced by a firm grab of her wrist, and a series of breathy pleas.

right there, keep hitting right there.

feels so good, ellie.

please, please, please.

and, shit, it’s music to her ears. she almost feels bad for mocking you earlier. almost. the pleaser in her wants to finish you off, coo sweet words in your ears and cradle you up in her arms. but the little shit in her? the little shit in her wants to drag this out.

“please what, baby?” the girl queries, pulling out and tapping the weighty head on your nub. the absence has you raising your hips up in an attempt to push it back in, but ellie’s hand on your abdomen keeps you grounded.

you whine and groan in frustration, letting a few expletives slip from your lips. sometimes she could be so mean. you have half a mind to respond with attitude, and half a mind to play into her sadistic mind games. you choose the latter.

with an avian flutter of your lashes, and your best doe eyes, you part your lips to speak.

“please…daddy,” you pout, forcing out a few tears, “need you to make it feel better.”and there it is, your best work yet—truly, an oscar worthy performance.

“yeah, that’s right. daddy’s gonna make it feel all better. that what you want? want me to take care of this pretty pussy?”

you nod, which is all the confirmation ellie needs before pulling you down the bed and throwing your legs behind your head.

so predictable, you think. but so welcomed. it always went like this whenever you used that on her. made her feel all big and in charge, like she had something to prove. and sure, ellie had a way with you, that was undeniable. but you? you had her wrapped around your manicured little finger. it really didn’t take much effort to get her right where you wanted her—which was on top of you, your favorite place to get her.

in this position, you feel so full. it calls for your chin to be tucked down into your chest, and all you can see is the pudge of your stomach, including all glorious eight inches of silicone ramming into you fiercely without abandon.

you’re only allowed mobility when ellie grabs your face to flit it up. she temporarily draws your attention away to pilfer a kiss, and asks if you can feel her all the way up there as she presses down onto your bulging tummy.

when you utter a yes, and say, “you feel so good inside, daddy. sososo good,” ellie’s entire disposition changes. starts kissing you all sloppy, groaning and grunting in your ear like she can actually feel your cunt squeezing ‘round her.

the intensity of her unrelenting thrusts have you scrambling to wrap your arms around her neck. she’s just so fast, and too good. a real recipe for disaster, and entirely way too much for you to keep up with.

fatigued, you drop your head back and melt into the plush of the pillows. you let her take you apart, piece by piece, kiss by kiss.

“gonna give me one, pretty girl?” ellie breathes, “c’mon give it to me.”

and her touch is as gentle as her words. she works on you devotedly, and doesn’t stop until you’ve come on her cock with a soft cry. that’s when she builds you back up. when your legs are shaking uncontrollably from pleasure, and your face is stained with tears. when you’re the prettiest.

gently, ellie unsheathes herself from you, and then shimmies her body down the bed until she’s face level with your cunt. she uses her thumbs to spread your lips, and like the asshole she is, licks a long stripe from the bottom to the top of your mound.

the overstimulation forces your legs shut, but she only pries them back open. the little shit. you roll your eyes.

“i was gonna say you taste sweet, but you know what, now i’m tasting a little bit of sourness,” she jests in response to your eye roll, rising from her stomach to crawl back up your body.

you scrunch your nose and pull her down against your chest, “oh my god, shut up!”

the two of you stay like this for a while. breaths intermingling with breaths. yeah, ellie could get used to this.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x y/n smut #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x you smut #:: — LEXI WRITES !

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yourlocaldisneyvillain · 8 months

Text

belong (nsfw)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Sumarry: Lucifer is always so very gentle with you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A/N: Inspired by this fic, but I made it dark. Sorry? TW: non-con TAGS: #bathtub sex #aftercare #implied sexual content #non-explicit sex #post-coital cuddling #implied/referenced dubious consent #soul selling #pondering the nature of free will and soul contracts #sort of psychological thriller vibes but not really #dubious consent #deal with a devil #love bites #implied rough sex #light praise kink

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

taglist: @opheliauniverse @zephyr-is-tired @dumbasslesbi @bychrissi @scream-queenlover @muffintopxs @bigolgay @gwenslucifer @weemswife @yourhauntedhead @carnivorousflowers @softshrimpy @willowshadenox @syrenacrainn @weemssapphic @dianneking @imprincipalweemspet @kimiinou @ninelesbien @i-love-nerdy-stuff @eveymay @myzzjolanda @pluied-ete @brienneswife @gwenzone @principal-weems09 @inlovewithalcinadimitrescu @gela123 @emilynissangtr @gwendolinechristieiscute @h-doodles @winterfireblond @larissaoftarthweems @a-queen-and-her-throne @bikergurl5 @salems-spaghettios @theflashesoflove @catechristiesstuff @vendocrap8008 @billiedeansbitch @coffeemelko @lilfartbox1 @amateurwritescm @daydream-cement @kaymariesworld @sicklygrlsicklygrl @wh0re4women @rippersz @milfsloverblog

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Sprawled against the Devil’s chest in a grand bathtub next to the fireplace, you don’t think it can get better than this. Their soft breasts pressed against your back, their nimble fingers tracing patterns on your chest and stomach, their warm breath on your neck. Their soft lips on the sensitive skin of your jaw, their hair tickling you, their touch gentle and caring. It’s all like a dream. The softest, sweetest, most wonderful dream — the kind that you have right before you ought to wake up.

Ah, it’s just what your sore and aching body needs.

The water is hot, and yet your lover’s touch makes you shiver. Gooseflesh appears on your skin. You wince when they caress a dark bruise their teeth left on your breast.

“Aren’t you a sensitive little thing,” they say, and the low rumble next to your ear causes another shiver to run down your spine. Their voice is lilting and melodious — sweet and delicious and oozing like caramel. Just for that voice alone, you’d do anything.

Anything is a dangerous promise.

They kiss the painful, throbbing love-bite on your neck. A sharp gasp escapes you.

“Tell me, have I been too rough with you? I forget how… fragile mortals can be.”

They’ve been less than gentle with you, that much is true. And yet, you can’t find it in yourself to mind. The pain brought with it indescribable pleasure. It left you aching and sensitive and marked with bruises, but pleasurably spent. However, you’re content to be pampered with gentle touch and a hot bath with fragrant oils and salts — you don’t think you could take anything more than utmost tenderness right now.

“You haven’t,” you say, and they chuckle into your ear — a low, deep sound, a puff of air against your earlobe.

“Liar,” they whisper into your ear. You can feel them smile against it. “Don’t worry, my sweet lamb. I intend to be nothing but gentle with you now that I’ve had my fun.”

Their warm breath on your ear has an intoxicating effect on you. You close your eyes and smile stupidly, leaning into them as much as you can, wanting to be as close to them as possible.

“Sweet thing,” they say and run their hand down your torso, down, down until they reach between your legs. You wince when they touch the bruised and abused bundle of nerves nestled between your lower lips. It’s painful, rather than pleasurable.

“Lucifer,” you say softly, and they make a little circle with their fingers. Your abdominal muscles convulse and you hiss. “Please, I can’t take it.”

“No?” they ask softly and plant a kiss on your neck. “But I am being so very gentle.”

They gently flick their fingers over the little bud and you buck your hips involuntarily. You try to move away from the painful touch, but there is nowhere to go. You are engulfed by their much larger body, by their gentle, but unrelenting hands. “Please,” you breathe, “I can’t.”

“The human body is wondrous thing. It entertains me greatly to see how much my touch affects you,” they say almost conversationally. They rub gentle circles, but even the lightest pressure makes you cry out in pain. However, hidden somewhere beneath the pain, distant pleasure starts to build. It grows in your lower belly, warm and steady.

Belonging to the Devil isn’t something one should take lightly.

“Sweet, sweet lamb — how you amuse me. It feels good, doesn’t it?” they whisper softly, their voice a soothing lullaby in your ear. “Tell me, do you wish me to stop?”

You open your mouth to say yes, but words evade you. “I can’t,” you say instead.

“Of course you can,” they say, saccharine sweet. “Do you want me to show you?”

No, you want to say, but the words don’t come. “It hurts,” you whine.

You’re hot — aching and throbbing, your lungs full of steam rising from the bath, hyperaware of their body pressing into your own, of their breath on your ear. They are inexorable, rubbing gentle circles, making you pant and whimper. The once distant pleasure emerges through the pain, stronger, clearer than before.

“Poor thing,” they coo, sugary sweet. “So sensitive, and yet doing so well for me. So obedient. Such a good girl.”

Their voice renders you dizzy and confused. What is it you wanted to say?

“Do you want me to stop?” they ask again and press harder. You cry out. They laugh into your neck — a warm gush of air and a sound of angel-bells ringing.

Stop, yes, stop — that’s what you wanted to say — but they rub harder and faster and then overwhelming, all-consuming pleasure washes over you. The intensity of it crashes and then ebbs and flows like a wave. You’re distantly aware of your own cries and the Devil’s soft words.

“See, my sweet dove? You can.”

But I didn’t want to, you think — a distant, hazy thought, something you can almost grasp.

They whisper soft words of encouragement into your ear, and their voice ebbs and flows not unlike the pleasure in your belly. You convulse and ache and grip their arm, and they shush you, hold you, and caress you.

It takes a while before the pain and the pleasure subside. You’re sore and achey and spent — even more so than before. You didn’t think it possible.

“I…” you try to speak.

“You…?” they mock you sweetly.

“I didn’t…”

“Didn’t you?,” they say, smiling into your neck. You can feel the sharpness of their teeth against your skin.

I didn’t, you want to say, but you aren’t so sure anymore. A pleasant, blissful sleepiness weighs on your limbs like a heavy cloak. You drift in and out of sleep as the Devil gently cleans your sweaty skin, rubs your scalp, washes your hair and peppers soft kisses over your abused body. Tender, beautiful aftercare — exactly what you need — and oh, they do it so lovingly.

It isn’t until you’re dried off and carefully carried and laid upon the bed — on the most exquisite and decadent silken sheets — that you find it in yourself to speak. You’re sleepy, so terribly sleepy, and yet you manage to ask what’s been on your mind for some time now.

“Lucifer…” you manage to utter, softly and quietly.

“Yes?” they ask as they settle next to you, pulling you close, wrapping their arms around your waist. They bury their nose into your hair and inhale deeply.

“Do I… have agency? Now, after the…”

They wrap a wing around you, shielding you and covering you as if with a blanket. “Of course you do. You can have anything you desire.”

They’re right — you do get everything you desire. And yet, what agency does someone — something — that belongs have? Is a plaything allowed to desire? And if it is, do they just end up desiring what their Master wants?

“Really?” you murmur. Your eyelids are heavy with sleep. A wonderful, warm feeling, and yet there is something underneath it. You can almost remember what it is.

“Name it and it is yours, little lamb.”

Yes, yes, it is true, you think as you snuggle closer to them. They’re warm and they smell like burning wood — comforting, like a fire that chases away the winter cold that wants to settle in one’s very bones. It’s true, you think — they always ask what you want.

It’s just that you always seem to want exactly what they do.

You want to ask something else, but it escapes you. Something on the tip of your tongue you can’t quite grasp. A question, a flickering light you can’t quite catch.

You sigh softly and drift into sleep — warm and safe in Lucifer’s embrace. Who knows, maybe if you stayed awake just a tad longer, you’d have remembered what you wanted to ask.

Indeed — selling one's soul to the Devil isn’t something one should take lightly.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

#lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer sandman #lucifer smut #sandman lucifer #the sandman 2022 #gwendoline christie #i will write my own garbage and also consume it

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movidita · 4 months

Text

part one here!!

The next morning you’d woken up with a slight headache. An unfamiliar buzz present in your head all morning.

Luckily, you managed to pretend you were fine.

Your father and sisters unaware of your night— well besides Maggie. You had to tell her! Can’t keep secrets from the sister after all.

Plus she had figured out where you had disappeared to for hours the previous day, completely aware of your lust for the older men currently residing on your father’s property.

Maggie’d never out you. Especially not after you caught her with Glenn merely two days ago. Your secret was safe.

It was now noon. Your headache had sort of faded and you were good enough that you could complete your chores.

Laundry hamper at your hip as your cowboy boots patted against the grass. Making your way towards the washing line. The one purposely close to Daryl’s set-up. His tent and a few other items of his scattered between the trees. Between the trees you planned on hanging your laundry up on.

You spotted him before he spotted you. Sitting on a log, doing God knows with his cross-bow, that wasn’t what you were interested in.

The second he could hear your footsteps he looked up.

In all honesty, he was surprised to see you today. At least not until later. He thought you’d still be in bed, milking your hangover.

Daryl gave you a quick nod of acknowledgement, “You alright? Didn’t think you’d be up yet.”

Smiling sweetly at the man and dropping your washing basket beside him. “I’m alright, feel all better now.”

It wasn’t an entire lie. You did feel much better from how you previously did this morning. There was just a dull ache in the back of your head.

Picking up an item of clothing and pins. Going up onto your tippy-toes so you can correctly hang the damp shirt up.

The man averted his gaze when the wind picked up and your dress began to flow in the breeze. Revealing a little too much of your thighs and the teeny tiniest bit of your bottom, just barely covered by your panties.

He cleared his throat, drawing his focus back to his crossbow.

“You have some water? Medicine?”

“Mhm.” You nod, pining another shirt up on the line.

It’s silent for a few moments. Just the occasional grunt from Daryl and the gentle zephyr.

That was until you plucked an item from your hamper, a matching bra and underwear set. All pretty and pink and lace. Bows and everything.

His eyes flickered between your figure and the pair of panties you were hanging up.

Daryl stood up behind you. So incredibly close. His chest flush with your back.

You spin around at the sudden shadow looming over you and beam at the man. Eyelashes fluttering against the apple of your rosy cheeks.

“You’re a tease, you know that.” His lips brush up against the crown of your head.

He smirked as he watched your face turn into a slight red.

“Whatever do you mean?” You innocently questioned, acting like you didn’t come out here with the intention of exactly that. To tease him.

You lifted your head to meet his, lips brushing up against his.

The man’s hand reached up to cup the nape of your neck, pulling you in closer.

“Walking around in these,” He tugged on the hem of your dress. “That stupid smile on your face. Think I don’t know what you’re trying to do?”

You shrugged. Acting completely oblivious.

Just as you were about to press your lips to his. A call of your name startled you both. Beth. You had told her you’d be out to help her with the horses in ten minutes. Apparently, ten minutes had passed.

Both of you backed away from each other, almost stumbling over your now empty laundry hamper. Thankfully catching your footing before you could.

Hauling the basket back onto your hip and following after Beth’s call.

Leaving the man and growing tent in his pants all alone.

#rick grimes #daryl dixon #shane walsh #shickyl #shane x rick x daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd x reader

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weemssapphic · 1 year

Note

Hey I was wondering if you'd be willing to write a Larissa weems X reader (smut with a corruption/marking kink). R is a new teacher and is very young (19-21) but is very smart and passionate about what they teach. The only issue is that due to them dedicating so much time and effort to completing their studies early it means they didn't have the typical college/highschool experience.

Larissa somehow discovers r is a virgin and makes it her life's mission to being the one who takes their virginity. Larissa starts flirting with r more which leaves r a stuttering/blushing mess. Eventually they both get what they desire and Larissa is patient letting r try both being the bottom and top. Featuring some nice cuddling afterwards where Larissa whispers to r that their hers and only hers.

Hers and Only Hers

thank you so much for the request, anon! i'm so sorry it took me so long to write this, the past weeks have been a bit busy and i wanted to do it justice. i hope the wait was worth it <;3 it also got a bit long, oops. ao3 link in title, as always.

warnings/content: nsfw/smut (oral, fingering), corruption kink, marking kink, bit of fluff and cuddling, age gap (teacher!reader is 20)

words: ~4.5k

tags for those who may be interested: @afeatherformills @sapphicsbeloved @scumppa @zephyr-is-tired

Back in school you had always been top of your class, skipping several grades before you had even made it to high school. Thanks to this, you had been able to finish college well before many of your friends had even started, and applied for an open position as the botanical sciences teacher at Nevermore Academy. You’d assumed that being 20 years old and barely older than some of the students would be an obstacle, but apparently you’d made such a good impression on the principal, Larissa Weems, that you’d been hired on the spot.

Your first few weeks at Nevermore had been nice, for the most part. You love being in the greenhouse, working with the plants. Your coworkers are welcoming and treat you like a daughter. Even the students seem to be warming up to you nicely.

But then there is Principal Weems. The woman who somehow manages to turn you into a stuttering mess whenever you see her. A tall, statuesque woman with silvery curls, cerulean eyes, lips always painted a shade of bright red to match her manicure. A woman whose smile always reaches her eyes, making your stomach do backflips whenever it’s directed towards you, bringing a blush to your cheeks and filling your dreams at night. It seems you’ve developed a bit of a crush on your boss.

Larissa is just heading out of her office to meet with Mayor Walker, blazer slung over her arm and keys jingling in her hand, as she hears your voice carry into her rooms from the hallway outside. Her ears perk up in spite of herself, she has been intrigued by you from the moment she first laid eyes on you. She had been impressed with you from the first time she’d seen your resume - such high academic qualifications at such a young age - and since having you on her staff, she had realized just how sweet, genuine and kind you were. She had to admit she was developing quite the soft spot for you.

“Keep your voice down,” she hears you hiss. “The last thing I need is for the students to hear you, I feel like they already barely respect me as it is.”

The voice of another teacher interrupts your own. “Aw come on, that’s not true, they love you! But Jesus, you really haven’t slept with anyone? Ever?”

Larissa feels an unexplained warmth in her cheeks, pressing her ear to the door as your voices drift away down the hall.

“No, I’m a virgin, okay!” Larissa can hear the annoyance and defeat in your voice. “I guess I was just always more focused on school than dating or anything like that.”

Your voice fades into nothingness as you and your coworker round the corner.

Larissa slumps back against the door, hands dropping to her side, instinctively crossing her legs and squeezing her thighs together for friction as a wetness pools between the apex of her legs.

You are a virgin. Of course you are. Larissa can’t explain it but the thought makes her core ache with desire. A low chuckle escapes her lips. You’re too sweet, too innocent. Suddenly a million thoughts fill her head: she imagines her lips on your neck, covering you in marks to show the world she’s claimed you as her own. She imagines showing you what you’ve been missing this whole time, taking your precious innocence, revealing to you the feeling of true ecstasy, making you writhe in pleasure beneath her.

Her lips quirk up in a smile, a plan forming in her mind. She was going to have you - and Larissa Weems always got what she wanted.

Shit. You slept through your alarm that morning and if you didn’t hurry, you’d be late to your first lesson of the day. You practically fly down the hallway, dodging several groups of students, and skid around a corner when you suddenly collide with something solid and fall back. You close your eyes, bracing yourself for the impact that is sure to come, but it never does. Instead, you feel a pair of strong arms slink around your waist and catch you just before you hit the ground.

Your eyes fly open in confusion and you find your face inches away from that of your boss. “Principal Weems,” you squeak out, “I’m so sorry!”

“Please, darling, call me Larissa,” she whispers, breath ghosting over the shell of your ear, so close that you think you can feel her lips brush against your skin. The action makes you shiver, and you know Larissa feels this because she’s still holding you in her arms. A heat rises from your cheeks to the tips of your ears and you know you’ve turned beet red.

“Oh, Y/N, you’re blushing.” Larissa smiles warmly, her eyes crinkling at the outer corners. “There’s no need to be embarrassed.” She pulls you up swiftly and you’re nearly flush against her. You have to crane your neck back to look up at her - has she always been this tall? It takes your breath away to look up at her like this.

“I’m just late to class, I overslept this morning,” you twist your fingers together nervously, afraid you’ll be reprimanded by the headmistress.

“It happens to the best of us,” Larissa cups your cheek and shoots you a wink. You are so damn cute when you’re nervous, it takes all of her self control not to shove you against the wall and take you right then and there.

Your heart skips a beat and the air around you feels like it’s thinning. “I’d b-better get going,” you manage to choke out. T-thanks for catching me, Princip- Larissa.”

You don’t look back as you hurry off to the greenhouse, and it’s good that you don’t or you’d have caught Larissa staring at your ass as you’d walked away.

The next time you see Larissa, you’re standing in line at the Weathervane when you feel a looming presence behind you.

“So, what do you usually order?” A teasing voice purrs in your ear.

You feel your cheeks redden involuntarily - your boss should not be having this effect on you.

“Um, coffee makes me a bit jittery so I usually go for hot chocolate,” you pray this doesn’t make you sound lame, you know how dependent everyone seems to be on their morning coffee, but your statement seems to pull Larissa’s lips up into a genuine grin.

“Then you’re in luck, my darling, the Weathervane has some of the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had.” The pet name makes your stomach flip and you swallow thickly, unable to do anything but nod as Larissa stares at you with a fondness in her eyes that you can’t quite explain, but that makes your heart ache with desire all the same.

“What can I get for you?” The barista’s voice snaps you out of your trance. Before you can say a word, Larissa replies for you - “two large hot chocolates please, did you want yours to go?” She looks down at you and you nod numbly. You reach for your wallet but she swats your hand away, pursing her lips as she pays for your drinks.

“Thank you so much, Larissa, you really didn’t have to pay for me,” you gush out as the two of you wait for the barista to make your order.

Larissa waves a dismissive hand in front of her face, smirking. “Please, darling, it’s no trouble at all, you’ll find a way to pay me back.” There’s a suggestive glint in her eyes and the way her tongue runs over her bottom lip, eyes trailing briefly down your body makes an unfamiliar heat coil in your stomach.

She takes her drink in her gloved hand and gives your shoulder a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

“Perhaps we could come here together sometime.”

Her hip grazes yours as she brushes past you and exits the Weathervane, crossing the street to head towards Dr. Kinbott’s office, leaving you a dizzy, blushing mess.

“Alright class,” you call out as the students stuff their notebooks into their bags. “Don’t forget about the exam on Monday!”

“Oh come on, can’t we postpone it?” Xavier huffs.

“It’s not fair to have an exam on a Monday anyway,” Ajax chimes in, rolling his eyes.

A ripple goes through the classroom, other students murmuring their agreement.

“Come on guys,” you plead. “If you completed the study guide, you’ll do just fine. I will not be postponing this test. Do you complain like this to all your teachers?”

A series of groans reaches your ears and one by one, your students shuffle out. Enid shoots you an apologetic glance and mouths “sorry”, which you appreciate, and you wave her off with a tired smile.

You watch the last of your students file out the door, then turn to your open laptop to get a head start on some grading that needs to be done for next week’s classes when an email pops up in the corner of your screen. You open it and your stomach flips.

Dear Y/N,

I hope your first weeks of classes have exceeded your expectations.

If you have the time, I would love to see you in my office for a chat tonight at 7.

Please, do let me know.

Larissa

Your palms begin to sweat and your mind immediately jumps to the worst case scenario. What could Principal Weems possibly want from you? She’d seemed friendly enough in your last interactions. Maybe even too friendly. Maybe she felt bad for you?

You hold your breath as you type out a confirmation that you’ll be there, then turn back to your grading - not that you can focus on your work now.

6:59pm. You’re standing at the wood-paneled doors to Larissa’s office, holding your breath. You raise your fist and knock twice.

“Come in,” Larissa’s smooth voice sounds from deep within the room.

“Take a seat,” Larissa is sitting behind her desk, leaning back in her leather chair, a pensive look on her face. A fire burns in the imposing fireplace, casting a warm glow over her office.

You close the door behind you and step towards her, lowering herself into one of the plush armchairs facing her desk. Your heart is beating wildly out of your chest, you’re sure Larissa can smell how anxious you are. You rub your sweaty palms on the back of your skirt in a vain attempt to calm your nerves.

Larissa looks composed but within her, a fire burns. She can tell how tense you are and she finds it so very endearing. She watches you chew at your lip and presses her thighs together involuntarily. She wants to see how you come undone, wants to hear her own name tumble from your sweet, innocent lips. Something about watching you squirm under her gaze stokes the fire within her.

“You’re not in trouble,” she coos, and you visibly relax in the armchair in front of her. “I just wanted to see how you were doing. See if you need anything. You’re our only new addition to the staff this year and we haven’t had a chance to properly speak, just the two of us. I trust everyone is treating you with respect?”

“Oh. Yeah, everyone’s been really, really nice. I’ve had a bit of a rough day, but it’s nothing I can’t work out.” You sigh and force a smile, eyes cast downwards, fingers twisting absently in your lap.

Larissa stands and rounds her desk at your admission, leaning down in front of you and taking your chin between her fingers, forcing you to meet her eyes, which are full of genuine concern.

“Has something happened?”

“Not really. My students just like to challenge me every chance they get. I get it, I’m pretty close to their age, but it’s frustrating.”

Larissa nods her understanding. She’s inches away from you now and your breathing is shallow, the tension in the room now thick enough to cut with a knife. Your gaze flickers down to her cherry-red lips and when you look back up, you notice a hunger in her eyes that wasn’t there before, widened pupils staring back at you. Larissa’s thumb traces the hollow of your cheek, causing your breath to hitch, and suddenly she’s leaning in, brushing her lips softly against yours.

Your pulse skyrockets, you can feel your heartbeat in your throat. It’s not that you don’t want this, of course you do, you’ve wanted it from the moment you laid eyes on the woman. You just hadn’t realized she’d also wanted it.

“Larissa?” You pull back, dazed, your eyes search hers. Her gaze is soft and reassuring, but there’s something else there. You’d seen it in movies, read about it in novels, but never had a look like this been directed at you before. Lust. Pure, unadulterated lust.

“Is this okay, Y/N?” Larissa whispers urgently, cupping your cheek and running her thumb over your bottom lip.

You nod fervently. “Yes. Absolutely.” Like hell you were going to waste your one chance with Larissa Weems.

Larissa moans and pulls you in for a searing kiss. Her tongue swipes at your lower lip and you part your lips, allowing her to explore the planes of your mouth as her hands drop from your face to your waist, pulling you up out of the chair and flush against her. You aren’t sure if it’s the warmth of the fire or your close proximity but your entire body is burning, a pleasant tingling sensation settling in your stomach and moving its way through your limbs.

You pull apart and her mouth is on your ear, her warm breath sending a shiver down your spine.

“Tell me what you want, whatever you want, and it’s yours.”

You hesitate, frozen in place, fear bubbling up in your stomach and rushing through your veins like ice.

“Ihaven’tactuallydoneanythinglikethisbefore,” you mumble, eyes locked in a staring contest with Larissa’s black heels.

“Darling,” Larissa hooks a finger under your chin and forces you to make eye contact with her, which makes your cheeks burn - you’re sure your entire face is on fire now. “You’re going to have to speak up, I can’t understand you.”

You suck in a deep breath. “I’m a virgin.”

There’s a moment of deafening silence, but the hunger in Larissa’s eyes never dies. Instead, her pupils are blown wide, you can see her clench her thighs together out of the corner of your eyes, she looks ravenous.

You are surprised when Larissa offers you a hand and guides you to a door on the far right of her study, that leads to her private quarters.

“I thought we might be more comfortable here,” her voice drips with lust as she closes the door behind you, allowing you a moment to take in the sight of her lavishly decorated bedroom, complete with a massive, queen-sized bed at the center.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“I want to,” you reply quickly, far too quickly, and you want to hit yourself for being so eager, but Larissa seems to find it endearing, as she smiles at you and guides you towards the bed.

You sit gingerly on the edge of the bed and Larissa places a hand on each of your thighs, parting them gently and simultaneously pushing up your skirt, letting out a groan as she sees the damp patch at the center of your cotton panties.

“We haven’t even gotten started and you’re already so wet for me, hmm?” Her finger teases your core, which is absolutely drenched at the mere thought of her, and you stifle a moan, throwing your head back at the touch.

“Ah-ah, let me hear you. I want to hear every sound you make, okay?” Larissa coos. “Don’t hold back on me.”

You draw in a ragged breath and nod, already dizzy from the idea of Larissa inches away from your dripping cunt.

Larissa plants a trail of kisses along your jaw, moving down the column of your neck until she is at the base of your throat, swirling her tongue over your pulse point. She begins to suck, gently at first then harder, eliciting a soft moan from deep within your throat as she nips at your skin, leaving a small red mark behind.

Smirking at her handiwork, her hands come to a rest on your chest, fingers hovering over the buttons of your blouse.

“I’ve wanted you from the second I first laid eyes on you. Such a pretty, innocent little thing. May I?” The question is doused in carnal desire, Larissa’s voice low and wanting.

“Yes,” you whisper, your eyes following her fingers, long and slender, as they deftly work their way down your top, pushing it down your shoulders and then moving to the zipper at the side of your skirt.

You feel exposed, sitting on Larissa’s bed in just your bra and underwear, face and chest flushed, but something about Larissa’s tender gaze and soft touch make you feel safe. Her hands move from your flesh to her own, tugging at the zipper of her cream colored dress, and your eyes watch as she drags it down her curves at a tantalizing pace until it pools at her feet.

Larissa’s knees come up to straddle your lap, pulling you further up the bed with her until you’re resting against her pillows. She’s hovering over you now, one hand on either side of your head, your bodies pressed against each other.

“Are you comfortable?” Her lips brush against yours and you whimper, nodding into the kiss, which Larissa deapens with a groan.

Her hand comes down to your side, moving under your back to unclasp your bra and pushing it to the side to grant herself access to your breasts. She kneads at the soft flesh, flicking her thumb over your nipple until she’s satisfied with how hard it is, before moving to your other breast.

Her mouth finds your throat again, her tongue lapping at your skin, swirling, sucking, claiming you as her own with a series of marks you’ll have to find a way to cover in the morning.

You hiss as her warm tongue slides over the sensitive peak of your hardened bud, earning a grin from the woman above you. Her mouth moves lower and lower, inch by inch, an agonizing journey of open-mouthed kisses down your ribcage, stomach, hip bones, leaving a trail of red lipstick smudges and purple hickeys. Your back arches into the sensation, chest heaving.

Larissa slows when she reaches your thighs, hands coming to rest on your hips and gently tugging at the cotton covering what she has been longing to stake her claim on.

“Hips up,” she instructs and you oblige, allowing Larissa to pull your panties down your legs and toss them unceremoniously across the room.

Larissa stifles a groan when her eyes meet your pussy. You begin to push your thighs together subconsciously but Larissa’s hands stop you, spreading your legs.

“Don’t be shy, darling,” she coos, pressing her lips to your inner thigh, and you feel yourself drip at the action. “Look at that pretty little cunt, so ready for me.”

The coil behind your navel tightens as Larissa’s kisses come closer to your core, until - finally - her lips make contact with your center. Her tongue traces a path through your folds, from your entrance to your clit, gathering your juices in her mouth. She moans at this first taste of you, you taste even better than she could have imagined. The scent of your arousal floods her senses and spurs her on as she begins to lap your pussy, enjoying the unfiltered moans that are escaping your lips.

“Fuck- Larissa,” you moan as Larissa’s tongue begins to circle your bundle of nerves. Your knuckles are white as you grasp desperately at the sheets, head tilted back in pleasure. You spread your legs wider, arching your back and rocking your hips into her mouth.

“Look at me,” Larissa demands. You force your eyes to meet hers, both of your pupils blown with desire. Larissa has never looked sexier, her lipstick smudged, chest heaving. Your juices glisten on her chin and the sight brings a blush to your cheeks. “Who do you belong to?”

The question alone nearly snaps the hot coil in your stomach, goosebumps erupting all over your body. You’re so desperately turned on by her.

“You.” The answer comes out in a breathed whisper, your hips twitch wantonly toward Larissa, you need her again. She takes your sensitive bud in her mouth, sucking gently. The vibration of her moans against your pussy have you bucking your hips up, desperate to get more friction, when you feel nimble fingers trace lazy patterns at your entrance.

“Fuck, Larissa, I need more,” you mewl, your hands coming up to rest on the back of Larissa’s head, pushing her closer to your dripping cunt. Larissa hums and you can feel her smile as she pushes two fingers inside of you, beginning a slow, steady pace. Your nails scratch at her scalp as you ride her face, pushing your hips forward to take her fingers deeper.

“Yes, right there, right- ahh- Larissa!” Larissa makes note of every sound coming from your mouth, how your body responds to every touch, enjoying how she’s able to make you come undone. She’s drunk on the feeling of you, the smell of you, the sound of you. So innocent, so sweet - moaning above her, screaming her name in a moment of pure desire. Knowing she’s the one to be able to give you this experience.

Your thighs begin to tremble as Larissa’s fingers curl inside of you, drawing a strangled moan from your lips as you teeter on the edge of your orgasm. Larissa’s tongue sucks at your clit, her fingers increasing their pace, your legs shaking as the coil in your belly snaps, rocking your hips into Larissa’s face as you ride out your high.

She flattens her tongue against your cunt and laps up the juices flowing from you with a satisfied hum, coming up to lay beside you and latching her lips onto yours, allowing you to taste yourself on her tongue.

“You did so well for me, love,” she whispers, caressing your cheek. “Do you need anything? Water? Do you want me to clean you up?”

You appreciate the sentiment but the thought of stopping without being able to worship the goddess in front of you is disappointing. You hesitate a moment before reaching behind Larissa’s back and stopping your fingers at the clasp of her lacy bra. She’s watching you curiously and her breath hitches audibly at the touch of your fingers.

“May I?” Larissa nods, cheeks pink and pupils wide and you know you’ve never seen anyone more adorable or sexy. You undo the clasp of her bra and a moment later, your hands are on her matching panties and she’s helping you tug them down her legs.

“Show me what you like.” You need to know how to worship her right. Larissa whines, bringing her hand between her legs. She props up her leg so that you have a perfect view of her glistening cunt, absolutely drenched only for you. You can feel yourself getting wet again, your own cum pooling between your legs and dripping down your thighs. Your gaze is fixated on Larissa’s long fingers as they run through the length of her own folds to coat themselves in her slick. She reaches her clit, allowing her head to fall back as her fingers draw languid circles over the sensitive nub.

A groan falls from your lips and Larissa’s sapphire eyes meet yours. She stops pleasuring herself and instead her fingers circle your wrist, gently guiding your hand to her center. She mewls as you tease her entrance, allowing her legs to fall open and pushing her hips towards you in a desperate attempt to get you closer, growing impatient with need.

You dip two fingers into her center, pushing gently, watching in amazement as Larissa’s eyelids flutter shut, her mouth parting to let out breathy groans of affirmation as you bring your thumb to her swollen bundle of nerves.

The moans she lets out begin to get filthier and filthier as you pick up your pace, eyes trained on her core.

“Does this feel good?”

“So, so good, Y/N,” Larissa groans, eyes rolling back in her head as your fingers find the spongy spot inside of her. “Deeper - right there, just like that.”

Larissa grasps forward to weave her hands around the back of your neck, pulling you in for a bruising kiss. Her tongue moves against yours, her breathing hot and needy. She whines into your mouth as your fingers pump in and out of her, and her fingers find purchase in your hair, curling themselves in your tresses and pulling back gently.

Your eyes are wide with lust as Larissa’s arousal drips down your fingers, a pitiful moan falling from your lips as you feel Larissa begin to clench around your fingers as if trying to keep you there. Throwing caution to the wind, you add a third finger, eliciting a delicious gasp from the woman in front of you.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come!” Larissa’s thighs begin to shake, hips thrusting up erratically to meet your fingers which are knuckle deep in her cunt, stretching her out, curling into her sweet spot. You watch in awe as Larissa slowly comes undone, her fingers tightening their grip in your hair as she shudders against you, her essence leaking out of her center.

Not breaking eye contact, you bring your fingers to your mouth to suck them clean, moaning at the taste of Larissa on your tongue. You have never tasted anything so divine. Larissa crawls over to you and sinks back onto the pillows with a sigh, watching you through heavy-lidded eyes.

“Come,” Larissa whispers softly, and you allow her to wrap her arms around you. You relish the feeling of your bodies pressed against each other, enjoying the warmth of her bare skin. Her fingers trace the bruised marks she’d made with her mouth, her touch light as a feather. She entwines her long legs with yours, rubbing your calves together gently.

She allows you to bury your head in her neck and you breathe in the scent of her, sweat mingling with musky perfume and the smell of her sheets.

“You did so well for me, my sweet one. Thank you for trusting me,” Larissa coos, rocking you against her, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Larissa ducks her head down, her breath on your cheek causing you to shiver pleasantly as she whispers her next words. “You are mine, darling. Only mine.”

“I am yours,” you whisper back sleepily, the adoration in your gaze mirroring her own as you snuggle into her chest, sighing contentedly. The pads of Larissa’s fingers stroke up and down your arms as she waits for your breathing to even out before allowing herself to follow suit, thinking to herself that she would gladly spend every night like this with your head on her chest and your legs tangled in hers. Your words echo in her head as she drifts off to sleep - you are hers.

#larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #principal weems x reader #principal weems #larissa x reader

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laluvlidovezgal · 4 days

Text

CHANCE.

TW! implications of death.

bittersweet! melancholic

t. muichiro x f. reader

graciously requested by @muuumuiiii ! thank you so much for requesting, you sweet lovely lad<3

who would have anticipated it? the mist hashira, of all individuals, displaying a concern that surpassed anyone else's for you—the spirit pillar; a warrior whose technique came at the steep cost of a gradual erosion of your life.

THE MOON; THE BRIGHTEST PEARL SUSPENDED IN OUR VELVET SKY THAT FLOODED THE INKY DARKNESS WITH ITS SILVER GLOW.

a radiant disc it was. casting its ethereal glow upon the shadows of the night, while also heralding the relentless onslaught of a few infamous entities—demons.

a symbol of hope, this pale sentinel embodied a goddess-like presence, standing as a timeless guardian, observing the earth with an unwavering gaze as warriors valiantly battled the monstrous creatures scattered throughout.

above, the luminous orb commanded the vast expanse of stars, illuminating them all. yet, even in this peaceful night, two particular slayers found themselves immersed in the serenity, although one seemed burdened by a more pressing concern, far beyond the tranquility itself.

in a world where such creatures roamed, the perfect harmony would remain elusive.

thus, what purpose did survival serve if death constantly loomed, a persistent visitor at one's very doorstep?

well, the purpose of life is to be happy. or at least, that's what this young man believed.

said boy possessed an acute understanding of this belief, as if it had become ingrained in the very fabric of his being—an awareness that, perhaps, bordered on the excessive.

the sheer ecstasy of savoring every moment of existence, embracing its essence in its entirety, was undeniably a remarkable achievement—a feat that deserved to be celebrated with fervor.

thus, he found himself utterly incapable of comprehending—indeed, he never had—how she could nonchalantly dismiss the imminent cessation of her own existence, as if it were a trifling matter. the weight of her disregard for her own life gnawed at him, like a persistent ache that defied understanding.

..then again, had he been any different?

"—and…now you’re spacing out, again.”

ah, the sound of that melodious voice; both longed for and dreaded, resonated within him and snapped him out of his reverie. even though he had incessantly poured out his thoughts to her since he awakened from his coma, with her faithfully by his side, deep in slumber—despite her own exhaustion—she had remained.

as your words echoed in his ears, he shifted his gaze to meet your own—and oh, those eyes.

he would give anything to forever witness his own reflection in the depths of your eyes.

in a mesmerizing dance, your gazes intertwined; an exquisite tapestry woven with delicate threads of connection.

he couldn't help but be entranced by the sheer magnificence of your irises—their majesty akin to rare crystalline treasures, gleaming beneath the majestic canopy of the nocturnal sky.

as a gentle zephyr whispered sweet nothings, its delicate touch caressed their beings, a tender embrace from the invisible hands of nature. he watched, his eyelids descending to a half-closed state, surrendering to the enchanting symphony of the night.

the breeze, like a playful sprite, felt as if it alone, could carry away his worries and sorrows, dispersing them into the velvety darkness.

yet, amidst this reposeful tranquility, a question lingered in the depths of his soul, an enigma that remained elusive and enigmatic.

it was one of the few riddles that continued to elude his grasp, an enigmatic puzzle that defied comprehension, regardless of whether he had regained his former self or not.

why, he pondered ever so deeply, did your well-being hold such profound significance to him?

why did his heart ache with an inexplicable yearning to protect you, to ensure the radiance within you remained untouched by the shadows of the world? it was as if his very purpose revolved around safeguarding your light, shielding it from the encroaching darkness threatening to dim its brilliance.

no, he never intended to diminish your worth in any way.

on the contrary—he understood, with a profound certainty, that you’re fully capable of caring for yourself alone.

yet, despite his awareness, a veil of mystery draped over his consciousness—that of a delicate wisp of mist teasing the boundaries of his understanding. it remained tantalizingly close, yet perpetually out of his reach, an enigma that eluded his grasp.

similarly elusive was the faint, almost imperceptible yet weighty pang in his heart each time his gaze flickered to your bandages that dressed your wounds.

he struggled to fathom its origins, to decipher the emotions that coursed through him with every glance. was it concern, fear, or something different altogether?

of course, he chastised himself for overreacting. after all, you were healing, weren't you?

...right?

at least, that was the relentless mantra he repeated to himself, like a haunting melody, a lullaby of self-deception.

perhaps it was a lie he constructed, a defense mechanism to shield himself from the harsh reality. deep down, he knew all too well that you were pushing yourself to the brink, sacrificing fragments of your own well-being to save countless others from the clutches of death.

how he yearned to tell you—to implore you—to cease using the very essence that slowly, yet inexorably, eroded your own vitality. the desire to shield you from the self-inflicted harm, consumed him.

yet, who was he to stand in your way?

who was he to dictate how you should pursue your purpose—your solemn vow? who had the right to demand that you discard the only technique you knew, as if acquiring a new skill were a trivial matter?

perhaps, for you, it had maybe once been a tangible option—a plausible alternative.

however, it clashed with the very reason why you chose to persist in wielding the power of spirit breathing, despite its unfortunate and devastating toll on your own being.

it was a conundrum that weighed heavily upon his soul, yet another conflict that tugged at the frayed edges of his limited understanding.

then, abruptly—his consciousness snapped back to reality, like a fragile dream shattered by the gentle sweep of a waving hand.

in that instant, the symphony of your voice, a sweet and melodious tune, graced his senses once more, stirring his spirit from its slumber.

"hello? earth to tokito?"

your words danced in the air, adorned with a delicate blend of amusement and genuine concern—whilst he, silently observed your actions. his gaze lingering for a fleeting moment, as if capturing the essence of your graceful movements.

soon enough, his eyes blinked, like a dormant star awakening to illuminate the night sky, as he finally stirred from his reverie.

with a subtle tilt of his head, he emitted a soft hum—a melodic expression that intertwined intrigue and acknowledgment in response to your beckoning. the notes of his hum danced through the air, a secretive melody that conveyed both his curiosity and the recognition of your presence.

meanwhile, you watched him with an internal sigh of relief.

the young man, whom you had believed to be forever lost in the bewitching realm of his perpetual daydreams, had returned to the realm of the present. the transformation within him, from introspective to effervescent, had you spellbound, never failing to leave you even in but a speck of awe, of these rare moments of clarity that graced his being.

"seems like someone's finally awake."

a faint smile blossoming upon your lips, akin to the first delicate bloom of a spring flower. lowering your hand with graceful grace,

you adjusted yourself to a more comfortable position beside him on the edge of the engawa outside the butterfly manor—a perch where you and him had been leisurely spending time together, without a care in the world, rambling on about. relishing in the comfort in one another’s presence—like a normal pair of souls basking in the way of life.

"you’ve been staring at me for quite a while.”

pausing for a breath, you tilted your head—the radiance of your irises blooming with an enchanting glow, as if the secrets of the universe were hidden within their depths.

"what's wrong?"

in the midst of an enchanting moment, a subtle hint of wounded innocence played across your seductive countenance, evoking a mysterious allure.

"do i look that bad?"

your voice, though as mellow and gentle as always, carried an underlying touch of vulnerability.

in an instant, he reacted, tilting his head with a subtle mixture of surprise and denial.

"what? no."

aa he blinked, his words slipped out absent-mindedly, like a whisper from a dreamer's lips.

"far from it, actually."

he confessed, his sincerity palpable.

with a gaze that held a painter's eye for detail, he saw your flaws not as imperfections, but as intricate brush strokes that added depth to the masterpiece of your being. inexplicably, he adored you, to the point where it practically pained him.

and who could blame him? for you were way more than a mere beauty that could be captured in words. you were a tapestry of emotions, a symphony of sensations that defied description.

to him, you are everything.

your brows raised slightly, captivated by his ever-unpredictable nature. truly, like the wind, he embraced the freedom to wander in any direction he pleased.

reminiscent of an owl, you blinked a plenty amount of times, momentarily stunned by the sheer audacity of his flattery. it seeped into the recesses of your heart, stirring a delicate blend of bashfulness and gratitude.

"then..."

unintentionally mimicking his gestures, as if dancing in synchrony with his spirit, you then asked, avidly yearning to explore the depths of his thoughts.

"mind sharing what's got you so..distant?"

although it was not deemed uncommon for him, of all individuals, to maintain a silent disposition, you possessed a deeper understanding—having witnessed something greater, something more.

despite the mere span of a few days, you stood as a crucial observer to the sudden shift in his demeanor. having been privy to a bewildering yet endearingly interactive side of the boy since his awakening, it became slightly disconcerting to witness him potentially regress into his characteristic, distant, and dazed state.

the memory of those extraordinary moments lingered, and it was disheartening to question whether they were mere illusions or if they held the promise of something genuine.

as of now, the male in question pressed his lips together, creating a slender line as his gaze wandered away from yours, as though searching for a brief respite from reality.

seeing this, you reassured him. carefully observing these subtle occurrences with your keen irises.

"you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

responding with a weary shake of his head and a sigh escaping his lips, his gaze flickered back to you, and as his eyes connected with yours once more, a subtle softness overcame them.

truly breathtaking were his eyes. they possessed a hue reminiscent of emerald, yet they gleamed like the replesdent glow of the moon above.

however, what truly captured your attention was the way his brows furrowed just as the corner of his lips downturned, for internally—a cascade of emotions crashed upon him all at once. moreover, a despairing layer seemed to coat his eyes, a poignant sorrow that caught you off guard.

"i don't like it."

he stated firmly, his words hanging in the air, leaving you perplexed.

your head tilted slightly further, eyes widening as you regarded him with curiosity and intrigue.

in response, he raised a hand to the area where his heart resided, his gaze lowering and narrowing towards the ground beneath you both.

"this feeling..."

his voice carried a weight of uncertainty, gaze delicately shifted back to meet yours—and in that moment, you could have sworn you saw his frown deepen as the hint of sorrow on his features became even more pronounced.

"and knowing you could..."

he trailed off, unable to bring himself to complete his sentence. yet, the unfinished words were enough for you to grasp the essence of his meaning.

your brows upturned, sensing the profound depth of emotions he struggled to express fully through words. you had a hunch that it might be something like this, but witnessing his reaction with such intensity was, without a doubt, enough to evoke a painful ache in anyone's heart.

the desire to comfort him welled up within you, an overwhelming longing to ease his burdens. yet, you couldn't help but question how you could possibly offer reassurance.

would it be by telling a blatant lie about something that was inevitable?

now, that would be nothing short of cruelty, no?

to suggest that you would overcome it would only exacerbate the pain. moreover, you were uncertain how to approach the situation without inadvertently triggering a devastating chain of events in the unavoidable future.

truth be told, if he were anyone else, you might have dismissed the matter with a casual remark, wouldn't you?

but with him, it was different.

you couldn't bring yourself to say so.

unable to find the right words in that moment, your gaze somberly shifted away from his, fixating on a distant point ahead. yet, in a sudden and unexpected instant, you were taken aback as you felt the weight of something new but vaguely familiar resting upon your shoulder—soft strands of supple hair gently brushing against you. along with it came a delicate warmth, enveloping you in an oddly soothing sensation.

"you don't have to say anything."

he quietly uttered, his honeyed voice carrying a mix of vulnerability and reassurance. he simply needed to release his thoughts into the open, to let them be heard, even if it was just a single sentence.

there had been no intention to pressurize or burden you, but rather a desire to be the one offering reassurance while subtly seeking comfort himself.

in a silent plea to convince himself that he wasn't caught in a dream, he gingerly leaned his head against your shoulder, and though was making sure not to add any more damage to your wounds, he did so without a hint of regret.

your heart skipped a beat, overwhelmed by the depth of his actions. turning your attention back to him, you found solace in this unspoken gesture of support. that tender gesture conveyed a profound understanding, a connection that surpassed the boundaries of words. it was a silent reassurance; of ones comforting presence for the other, especially in the face of uncertainty.

a sentimental smile graced your features as you felt immense gratitude for his selfless deeds. even in this moment, he made sure you were as comfortable as possible, going above and beyond to provide solace. the warmth of his actions filled you with a deep sense of appreciation and reinforced the unmatched bond between you.

"..thank you,"

you whispered in a hushed breath, your voice carrying the weight of profound appreciation.

though the words seemed simple, they held within them an entire universe of gratitude—a universe that bloomed with vivid colors, dreamlike aspirations, and meaningful connections.

with a delicate grace, you lifted your hand and allowed your fingertips to dance upon the canvas of his raven tresses. each strand, like a silken thread, wove a tapestry of sensations beneath your touch.

the texture was soft and supple, akin to the gentle caress of a summer breeze. as your fingers glided through the ebony strands, you embarked on a journey of intricate care, smoothing out the knots that dared to disrupt the harmony.

in this intimate act, time seemed to suspend, creating a space where the world faded away, leaving only the two of you in a transcendent moment. your touch, as mindful as the brushstrokes of an artist, traced a path of tenderness and care. each movement held intention, a pledge to protect and cherish him, ensuring no harm would befall his vulnerable spirit.

It was a silent symphony, where the language of trust and gratitude flowed effortlessly through the whispers of your fingertips.

as you continued this tender ministration, a vibrant tapestry of emotions unfurled within the depths of your heart. gratitude, like a delicate fragrance, mingled with a sense of wonder, weaving a spellbinding combination.

the tenderness you shared painted a tableau, akin to a cherished memory, where hues of warmth, understanding, and appreciation blended harmoniously.

pleased by your touch, a contented hum escaped your companion's lips, his eyes finding solace in the comfortable embrace of closed lids.

a smile, brimming with emotions, blossomed upon his visage, a testament to the profound impact of your presence.

his heart fluttered with a bittersweet ache, caught between the beauty of the present and the uncertainty of the future.

yet, even in the face of daunting odds, a glimmer of hope persisted within him. it discreetly clung to his being, refusing to be extinguished.

it was undeniably a childlike hope, both fragile and resilient; to yearn for the possibility of a miraculous turn of events.

still, muichiro wanted to embrace that chance, to patiently wait for the magic of a future with you.

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