#and are protecting the more vulnerable parts of their body
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The Fig & The Lime (The Surprise, Part 5)
Emily Prentiss x fem!reader
Warnings: pregnancy times, established relationship, fluff on fluff on fluff, vague references to sex, church times and references to religious trauma
Word Count: 2.1k
Summary: As your risk of a miscarriage goes down, you and Emily decide it's time to start telling people about the baby. You decide to start with the hardest person: Emily's mom. And her reaction prompts you both to make your first major parenting decision together.
Week 11: The Fig
You couldn't remember sleeping more in your entire life. You felt like you’d reverted to infancy: eat, sleep, repeat. No matter how long you slept, it was never enough. By 10:00 AM, you needed a nap. Then again at 2:00. Maybe 4:00 as well. And at night? You were lucky to make it ‘til 8:00.
So Emily wasn’t surprised when she got back from her week-long case and found you fast asleep, curled up on your side of the bed, your glasses crooked on your nose and your thumb stuck in a book. She smiled lovingly at you, pausing just to stare at you for a minute, just to watch your chest move up and down, to listen to your little huffs of breath.
Emily set her go-bag down, removed the dirty clothes, and threw them in the closet hamper basketball-style. One missed and landed nearby on the floor. She shrugged, stupidly relieved that you’d been asleep for it. You would’ve made fun of her for missing.
She crept over to you, trying not to make a sound, and leaned down to brush your hair out of your face. She gently removed your glasses and set them on your nightstand, then slid the book out of your hands, careful to hold your place. Emily leaned down to place a soft kiss on your head, standing back to stare at you again.
She shook her head and smiled. How many years had you been together? Was it five now? Six? And she still got butterflies every time she saw you sleeping in her bed. There was just something so vulnerable about you when you were asleep, something precious and rare and beautiful. For Emily, sleeping around someone meant incredible trust, it meant believing that you were safe when you could do nothing to protect yourself. Emily didn’t feel that kind of safe around anyone except you. So it made her heart melt every time she found you sleeping, every time you let yourself drift off, every time she came home and you didn’t wake up because your body and mind felt so safe with her. Emily loved making you feel safe. And, to her, moments like this were the physical manifestation of a mission accomplished.
Emily took a quick shower, washing away the grime–physical and mental–of a week spent hunting a gang of serial killers. She put on a soft t-shirt and sweatpants and crawled into bed, calm flooding her body knowing that it was Saturday afternoon. She’d have the rest of today and all of tomorrow to do nothing but be with you.
As she wrapped her arm around your waist and pulled you to her, you breathed in sharply and blinked. For a moment, Emily felt guilty for waking you, but the guilt disappeared when you turned your head around, bleary-eyed and beaming.
“You’re home,” you breathed, voice raspy. You turned around so you could face her, then wrapping your body around hers and holding her as tightly as a snake, your head nestled in the crook of her neck. "You smell good," you mumbled.
Emily smiled. Half-awake, half-asleep you was her favorite because you were less self-conscious than usual. All-awake Y/N would feel a little embarrassed about wanting to be so, so close to her. All-asleep Y/N would have been, well, asleep. But halfway Y/N… Emily loved the way you pressed your body into hers, like you were making yourself a nest, a home, right there in her arms.
She kissed the top of your head, running her hands through your hair.
“I missed you,” Emily whispered. “Go back to sleep, love.”
“Wait, I have to show you something,” you groaned, stretching a bit and turning to lie on your back.
You took her hand and guided it down your body.
Emily raised her eyebrows and smirked. “Y/N, I’m pretty sure I’ve already seen this, but I’m happy to take another look if you want.”
You whacked her playfully, still not quite awake.
“No, you perv,” you grumbled. You pressed her hand down just above your pelvic bone. “Do you feel that?”
“It’s kind of hard, like a… like a bouncy ball or something.”
You nodded, smiling, your eyes drifting shut again. “It’s the womb.”
“It is!?” Emily sat up and crouched down above your belly, eager to see–though there wasn’t really much to see yet. She pressed on the spot gently with her fingers, staring at it wonderingly.
The baby’s in there, she thought, giddily. My baby’s right there! She placed a kiss there, for you and for the baby.
“Does it feel weird?” she asked, glancing up at you when you didn’t answer. Your mouth hung open and you snored softly. She smiled; you’d fallen back asleep.
She kissed the spot where the baby was one more time, then kissed your shoulder, your cheek, your forehead. She manhandled you a bit so that you were snug in her arms, the way she knew you liked to be, even if you didn’t like admitting it. Emily wrapped one arm around you, and with the other, placed her hand over your womb, feeling the little rubber ball like it was magic and might disappear at any moment. But she knew the real magic was you, your body knitting together a child right there, right below her hand.
Week 12: The Lime
You glared at yourself in front of the mirror, tugging on your maxi skirt.
“You look beautiful, honey,” Emily said, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “Zip me up?”
You sighed and zipped up Emily’s dress, a red-and-white floral number, momentarily distracted from your own outfit by how truly stunning Emily looked.
“I wanted to wear a suit,” you grumbled. “You know I like suits better.”
“Well, Little Lime disagreed,” Emily replied, trying to hide a smile.
You weren’t showing yet, not really, but your custom suits didn’t fit anymore, and you were furious. It was Easter Sunday. You were going to Mass with Emily’s mom.
Neither of you were religious, but it was important to Elizabeth and, while Emily and her mom weren’t very close, Emily figured that once or twice a year, she didn’t mind seeing her mom–and she actually kind of liked going to Mass.
“You know I like to look extra gay when we go to church,” you complained as Emily pulled on a pair of heels. “What if they think we’re just friends?”
Emily chuckled, taking your hand and kissing the side of your head. “Baby, I’m pretty sure no one’s gonna think we’re just friends.”
You locked the apartment door behind you, still not entirely convinced.
“I mean, I can make out with you during the homily if it’ll make you feel better,” Emily teased.
“No.” You shook your head. “Let’s just get this over with.”
“You’re still okay with telling my mom about the baby?”
“Yeah,” you decided. “It’s time. Plus, when would we see her again?”
Emily shrugged. “I don’t know… New Year’s?”
You scoffed. “Yeah, I don’t think we should show up at Christmas Eve Mass with a surprise three-month-old.”
And with that, you headed to the one place you’d always assumed you’d never return to: church.
Elizabeth hugged Emily stiffly as you slid into the pew, then hugged you a little less stiffly. It wasn’t that she was homophobic exactly, it’s that she would have preferred Emily settle down with a man instead of a woman. But she liked you. You had a hard time with her, mostly because you knew that Emily, despite growing up with enough money to support about eight of your family, hadn’t had a happy childhood with her mom. But you did your best to be kind and gracious, for Emily’s sake. Emily didn’t want to be close to her mom, but she did want her in her life, and that was enough for you to try your best.
Emily had a complicated relationship with church. You’d grown up Baptist, not Catholic, so the solemnity and tradition of Catholicism was foreign to you. Despite being an atheist, Emily still found comfort in attending the occasional Mass. It was the repetition, she told you. The familiarity of it. You didn’t understand, not really. When you’d left religion, you had never wanted to step foot in a church again. But Emily was not you. There were parts of it that were home to her–as much of a home as she’d ever known moving around so much. And even though you didn’t understand, you honored and respected it.
You wondered, as the sounds of Latin and the smell of incense mingled around you, if Emily would want the baby to be baptized. You hadn’t discussed it. Religion wasn’t something you discussed often. You guessed you’d be okay with it, but you were adamantly opposed to raising a child to believe in God. Your own childhood had been filled with fiery stories of hell, tales of martyrdom that venerated toxic self-sacrifice, and the crushing, shameful, pervasive belief that something was inherently wrong with you–something that God had to fix.
You would never, never let your child believe that something was fundamentally wrong with her. Never. You wanted her to grow up believing that she was fundamentally right just the way she was. You made a mental note to discuss all this with Emily later. You assumed you’d be on the same page, since neither of you believed in God, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
After the service, Elizabeth took you out to eat at a very nice Italian restaurant. She ordered a bottle of wine for the table, and as the waiter leaned down to pour your glass, you tapped his arm.
“Just water for me, thank you,” you told him.
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows, looking back and forth between you and Emily.
“Something to share?” she asked.
Emily exhaled deeply and smiled at you. She was nervous, you could tell. She took your hand and looked at her mom.
“Yes, Mom. We are… having a baby. Y/N’s pregnant!”
“Well,” her mom responded, taking a sip of wine. Emily’s face fell. You could have slapped Elizabeth. “That’s… that’s excellent, dear. Congratulations.”
“Thanks,” Emily mumbled, and you squeezed her leg under the table. Most of the time she was so good at predicting her mom’s reactions. She was used to being let down and sidelined, used to her mom being disappointed in her. But sometimes, like anyone would, she let hope get the best of her, and got hurt all over again. Of course, Elizabeth had been lukewarm about your pregnancy. She’d been lukewarm about your marriage, lukewarm about your relationship. Hell, she was lukewarm about Emily in general.
You were glad that the baby–and Emily–had one side of the family that was truly over the moon about all of it. Your parents, you knew, would be giddy at the prospect of another grandchild. And your siblings would be thrilled to have a new niece or nephew. And Emily had told you before, often, that your family felt more family to her than hers ever had.
Later, when you came home, you cuddled up to Emily on the couch, leaning back into her chest. She had a faraway look in her eyes, absentmindedly running her fingers through your hair.
“Are you okay?” you asked quietly.
She sighed. “I don’t know what I expected.”
“You expected your mom to be happy you’re having a baby. That’s a reasonable expectation.”
“Not with her.”
You turned your head back to look at her, placing a hand on her cheek. “Emily. You deserve a family who celebrates with you. It’s not fair that she doesn’t do that. It’s okay to be upset.”
She seemed lost in thought for a while. You took one of her hands and played with her fingers.
“I don’t think we should go to Mass anymore.”
You furrowed your eyebrows. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. “I don’t want him growing up in that.”
You felt your heart unclench a bit. All those earlier anxieties, unfounded.
“I don’t want you to feel like you’re losing something though," you told her. "You always said Mass felt like home.”
She pressed her face into your neck, kissing your shoulder. “It did for a long time. But I have other things that feel like home now. Like you. And Little Lime. And the BAU.”
Your heart surged. It was an honor to be the place where Emily felt at home. “No Mass then,” you said.
“No Mass.”
And just like that, your first big parenting decision together had been made.
#emily prentiss#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss x fem!reader#emily prentiss fanfic#emily prentiss drabble#emily prentiss fluff#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic
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Maybe I'm looking too much into it but the way Machete is so tightly curled, as if trying to protect himself from the world compared to relaxed, stretched out Vasco
It shows their personality so well
.
#thank you for noticing!#I try to consider real dog body language whenever I'm drawing them in their quadrupedal feral forms#when a dog sleeps tightly curled it can mean they're cold or don't feel 100% safe in their environment#and are protecting the more vulnerable parts of their body#in that recent piece Vasco is more stretched out but he's still not fully relaxed#he's lying with his paws under him so that he can jump up at a moment's notice if he has to#if he was asleep he probably would've rolled on his side and splayed out his legs a bit more#or done a proper sploot even#you can see this in their anthro forms as well#Machete's body language is typically closed defensive and tense#whereas Vasco tends to look more comfortable in his skin and takes up space freely#answered#anonymous#I've yet to draw Machete doing the classic sighthound roaching pose where they sleep on their back with legs pointing up#probably not a common occurrence but it has to happen at least once in a while
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Maybe the reason that we're Like That nowadays (plays pretty much exclusively random obscure to semi-obscure indie games and tends to gravitate towards games with flaws that, although not glaring, noticeably fuck with the experience) is because the only things we played when we first started were games which would be either forgotten or considered to be terrible later down the line.
#we speak#potentially necessary context we did not do gaming until we saved up $200 to buy a 3ds in like 2011 due to issues we will not get into#and even nowadays we shy HEAVILY away from getting games that are Too Expensive (over $5 and not with a good discount)#this is related to the reason that we now heavily advocate against the heavy censorship and control put in place to “protect minors”#this censorship does nothing for protection it only makes them worse off and more vulnerable to people who may wish to harm them#as well as making it so that when theyre finally “old enough” to learn about the basic parts of the world that were withheld from them#they will have to shift around FAR more stuff to fit it into their worldview than if they just. knew about it sooner#and will in turn be far more likely to develop an unhealthy relationship with these concepts and the basic parts of their flesh they regard#the further the current trend swings towards Protect The Kids the more concerned we get#because kids need protection from their own families far more often than they need protection from like. The Concepts Of Death And Sex#and in our experience trying to shelter kids from these things just gives them fucked up relationships with their own bodies later#not that we're better about this admittedly but still
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Lie There and Look Pretty
Dark!Rafe Cameron x stepsis!Reader
Warnings: noncon, somnophilia, incest relationship (step siblings), loss of virginity
A/N: this is a drabble separate from my Number One Fan series, which will have more chapters eventually
The only light in the room was the thin slits peeking between the blinds covering Rafe’s window.
He pressed closer to your sleeping figure, slowly rocking his hard on against your ass. Fingers danced across your hips before digging into your soft flesh and pulling you closer to him.
His hand left your waist, snaking between your legs and lightly brushing over the soft fabric of your panties. You let out a soft whimper in your sleep, hips starting to slowly rock with his touch.
You were so cute and sweet, all curled up in your older stepbrother’s bed, peacefully dozing without a care in the world. Rafe could feel himself getting harder just looking at you. He needed to get closer though, needed to feel you wrapped around him, gazing up at him with those dazed, sleepy doe eyes as he pushed himself inside of you, claiming you as his own in a way no other man could.
After all, wasn’t it his job to take care of you? To protect you? To make sure his little sister wasn’t hurt by a world full of cruel men? They all wanted to hurt you, but not him. Rafe would make sure you were always safe, always taken care of. You deserved someone who cared about you, who knew you better than anyone else in the world.
Carefully, he sat up, climbing over you and shifting you onto your back, before he parted your legs. His eyes were fixed on your now slightly damp panties, and he pulled them out of the way to get a glimpse at your perfect pussy. You were already so wet, and he had barely even touched you.
Surely you had to know what was happening, right? There must have been some part of you that could feel what he was doing to you, even in your sleeping state?
Rafe sucked in a breath when he slowly tried to push a finger inside of you, surprised by the resistance he felt, you were squeezing around his digit so tight, and so deliciously wet.
When he curled his finger inside, you let out another whine, face scrunching up in your sleep at the feeling. With his free hand, Rafe pulled his cock out of his boxers, stroking himself at the sight of you laid out in front of him. You looked so vulnerable, completely unaware of your older bother, whose dick was now throbbing in his hands as he leered above your unconscious body.
Before he could think twice, Rafe lined his cock up to your slit, gently rubbing the tip against your slick folds. You felt so good and he wasn’t even inside you yet.
He slowly tilted his hips forward, allowing just the tip to slide in. His breath caught in his throat at the feel, and he knew that it was too late to back out now. He wouldn’t be able to live after just a small taste, not allowing himself to have all of you would drive him crazy.
Gently, Rafe began moving back and forth, never going deeper than the tip, but enough to generate a friction that had him biting back curses. Rafe didn’t want to wake you up, but at the same time he desperately wanted you to be awake, reacting to his every touch and looking into his eyes as he took what was rightfully his.
He must have gotten caught up in his thoughts because when he looked down at where his cock was disappearing inside you, he realized he had been pushing in deeper than he thought, now half of his length was filling you up, and he could feel you squeezing down on every inch. Rafe’s eyes flitted back up to yours and he was shocked to see they were opening.
You felt confused, head swimming in a state between asleep and awake. There was a huge pressure between your legs, but also a twinge of pleasure, each rock of the bed brought you closer to being pulled from sleep, and when you opened your eyes you were surprised that blue eyes were staring back into your own.
You tensed up immediately and Rafe groaned at the feeling, his hand wrapping around your throat before you could react, stealing your breath away from you. His face came to your neck, hot breath fanning over your tender skin as he grunted softly.
“You gotta be quiet Y/N, mm k?” Rafe’s voice was barely a whisper, the only sounds in the room were your bed shifting as he fucked you and the lewd sounds of his cock plunging into your wet cunt. “Don’t wanna wake up mom and dad, yeah? Just lie there and look pretty, ‘m gonna make you feel good.”
You were in shock, unable to fully grasp the situation you had just woken up to. The feeling of him sliding against your snug walls was both heavenly and so so sinful. The conflicting feelings inside you stirred a horrible mix of desire and disgust, but you were mostly just caught between disbelief and horror.
Rafe was fucking you deeper, burying his cock into you a little faster and harder with every thrust. When you reached your hands up to try to push him off of you, he easily overpowered you, one hand tightly gripping your wrists and pinning you to the bed so hard you knew they would be bruised in the morning.
His hips were snapping against yours frantically now, bare chest pressing to yours as he caged you in between his arms. The blond’s lips covered your own, smothering you with unwanted kisses, before he pulled away to bite and nip at your neck.
“Relax,” he growled through gritted teeth. “And let your big brother take care of you, princess.”
#rafe cameron#dark!rafe cameron#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron smut#stepbro!rafe cameron#outer banks#obx#rafe cameron noncon#rafe cameron fanfic#lie there and look pretty
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worthy of love — RAFE CAMERON
authors note something short and cute for you guys. also, rafe deserves to be treated with the love that he desires. he just wants to be understood yall.
paring mean!rafe x soft!reader
summary soft!reader wants to show mean!rafe that he's worthy of love but he pushes reader away until one day he finally knows what love truly feel like.
warnings neglect, feeling unworthy of love, ward being a shitty father, and a lovely happy ending.
Rafe Cameron believed he would never be capable of love in his life.
Raised in a family where love was a rare commodity, Rafe grew up believing that affection, vulnerability was a weakness that should be avoided at all costs. But little did he know that someone was about to turn his life upside down and teach him the true meaning of love.
You.
His father, Ward Cameron, is part of the reason Rafe is the way he is. Ward tells him to man up rather than express his feelings and be vulnerable. Overall, his father has never treated him with the proper care compared to his two younger sisters. This sent Rafe into a downward spiral, leading to a darker path in his life. Rafe held his guard up.
You entered his world like a breath of fresh air, bringing with you a warmth and tenderness he had never felt before. Rafe first rejected your presence, pushing you away with his harsh remarks and cold demeanor. But you saw through his strong facade, understanding the agony and vulnerability that lay underneath the surface.
"Why do you treat me like this? I’m not someone that deserves to be loved."
Rafe was initially perplexed as to why, of all the people on the island, someone as kind and gentle as you would want to be with him.
One of the many things Rafe would tell you when you tried to show him that he’s capable of being loved by someone, he would shut you out immediately when you tried showing him.
People said you were crazy for pursuing Rafe Cameron. His reputation in Kildare is immense. You just chose to ignore what other people had to say because you felt Rafe deserved love.
The first time you heard those words come out of his mouth, your heart broke into a million pieces. Behind all of the roughness, coldness, and unpredictable behavior, he is someone who wants to be loved.
Rafe continued to push you away for the longest time, hoping you would get the hint. Finally, giving in after protracted arguments. For far too long, he had kept his guard up to protect himself. He did not want to feel weak for expressing himself. Rafe noticed how long you stayed by his side.
You gradually began to break down the walls Rafe had placed around his heart. You showed patience and understanding by refusing to give up on him, even when he tried to push you away. Rafe became increasingly drawn to you as time passed, yearning for the love and acceptance that had always escaped him.
Rafe started to trust again as your relationship deepened. He progressively exposed a gentler, softer side of himself, something he had never seen before. He realized there are individuals out there, like you, who care passionately and will be by his side through thick and thin.
All he ever wanted was to feel fully understood and seen. You came into his life when he was in the deepest pain and saved him. You showed he’s worthy of love, compassion, gratitude, and vulnerability are truly like, and there is nothing wrong with it. He transformed into a very different person than anyone could have predicted.
"You're the most amazing person I've ever laid eyes on, baby," Rafe said with a lovely smile on his lips, sliding the front strand of your hair behind your ear as you moved your body closer to his and closed your eyes.
“I love you so much rafey” kissing his bare shoulder a few times.
“And I love you more,”
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#rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron imagines#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron outer banks#mean!rafe x soft!reader#dark rafe cameron#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#rafe fic#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#outerbanks rafe#drew starkey#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey imagines
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Yandere otome au
TW: yandere tendencies, kinda suggestive in some part, talking about death and violence (not towards reader)
(All characters are 18+)
Long post
Part 2!
You wouldn't call yourself an otaku, although you enjoyed games and anime, you weren't like those hardcore fans... that was until you got your hands on a copy of "By Love for Love: The Game."
This game was just your cup of tea, and you might or might not have become obsessed with it.
The game consisted of the heroine trying to win the heart of one or more suitors before her rival. It sounds cliché, but the twist of the game was that the heroine had to manipulate the chosen love interest to get rid of her rival, so they could take revenge or something like that. You honestly stopped paying attention to the plot halfway through because you were more interested in talking to the cute boys and girls!.
You were playing when you fell asleep at your computer.
You woke up to the feeling of soft silk and the scent of vanilla, and wait, what?
Your sheets were definitely not made out of silk, and your room smelled like cup noodles, not vanilla!
You woke up in a flash and looked at yourself in the mirror.
Y/N L/N, heir of the L/N company, and the rival of the heroine.
Oh for fuck’s sake…
Okay, okay, don't panic. Yes, apparently, you have been transported into the game "By Love For Love," but not as the heroine, but as the rival!
That was very bad news. You tried to remember some of the plot as to why the heroine wants you dead, but your mind just wouldn't work right now.
You knew you were the competition for the heroine, and you would surely lose if you chose to actually fight against her for the love of any of the love interests. So, you came up with a plan.
You would try to maintain friendly terms with all the love interests and choose a route that the heroine wouldn't take. This way, the tension between the two of you wouldn't spark.
But nothing could be as easy as it seemed, right?
The childhood friend
He was your favorite among all the potential love interests. He was sweet, caring, and a true sweetheart to be around.
He was absolutely delighted when you showed an interest in spending more time with him and started paying attention when he talked about his day.(what are this feeling?)
Initially, he stuck around because your parents were friends, and you had known each other since you were both in diapers. But now, it seemed like there was something more between you.
Your sudden change in attitude and the way you became so sweet and caring towards him caught him off guard. He couldn't fathom how he hadn't noticed your true nature until now.
He firmly believed that your destinies were intertwined, as if they were star-crossed. In his eyes, you belonged together because you had been together since childhood.
("Hey, we're going to stick together until the end, right?")
("You wouldn't leave me, would you?")
The older family friend:
He was a business partner of one of your parents, despite being just a couple of years older than you.
The older family friend that you were terrified off because beneath his charming facade lay an extremely sadistic nature.
You vividly remember how he ruthlessly disposed of the rival when the heroine chose his route, which made you extremely wary of him.
The older family friend that failed to comprehend that whenever you two met, you dared not make eye contact with him. Your fear and unease were palpable.
the older family friend that began to see you as a small, cute bunny in need of protection. "Aren't you the cutest!" he would remark, as if finding amusement in your vulnerability.
The Older family friend that almost broke the hand of one of his coworkers that insinuated that he would ask you on a date
The older family friend that starts to fantasize about taking you to his place and adorning your body in strong silk ribbons so you wouldn’t be able to escape his love (even tho something thinking of you pleading for help was something that made him all giddy)
The older family friend that slowly sharpens his pencil and fantasies about stabbing it on the eye of any bastard that dares to look at you
The heroine
The heroine, initially, despised you with a fiery intensity.
She couldn't fathom how you had the audacity to show up with your attractive appearance, seemingly disrupting her path to finding the love(s) of her life.
Every time you smiled at her with genuine kindness and inquired about her day, it only fueled her anger further.
Her resentment grew to the point where she started to keep an eye on you, not out of genuine interest but rather hoping to uncover some sort of compromising information that she could potentially use against you.
After some time -totally not stalking you- she ended up craving even more about you
She just needed to know everything about you!
The heroine that starts to use her influence and pretty face to spread rumors of HER love interest,hoping that it might reach your ears and you back down and go running into HER arms
The loner
They were honestly the one you knew the least about. Despite encountering this love interest in the game, you found yourself drawn more to the other characters and their storylines. Their appearance, personality, or initial interactions simply didn't capture your attention or ignite that spark of curiosity within you.
Didnt you know he was a huge masochist and the fact that you ignore him just make you want you more!
Oh how they wish you could look at them with disdain and call them a freak and told them how you despise them and-gosh they are drooling aren’t they
They are just a Pathetic little person that is begging for you to step on their throat and push until it cracks
#male yandere#yandere oc#yandere story#yandere oc x reader#yandere scenarios#yanderecore#soft yandere#yandere x reader#yandere boy#yandere manhwa x reader#yandere otome#yandere darling#yandere#yandere scenario#female yandere#yandere imagines#yandere x you#yandere otome au
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You love your boyfriend Katsuki's scars.
You’ve always found them compelling and held them to a certain degree of reverence. They're symbols of his growth and history on his body, making it a map you’d want to explore.
Bakugo, at first, was hesitant to show them to you. "They're really nothin' special, sweetheart."
("I'd love you to continue to be protected from the harsh and life-threatening circumstances of my job." is what he wanted to say.)
However, you insisted. "They’re a part of you. I want to see the marks you got on your journey in achieving your dreams."
He didn't put up much of a fight after that, making himself comfortable in the middle of the bed beside you and taking off his shirt, allowing you to delicately trail your hands over his scarred body, allowing himself to be completely vulnerable to you.
You asked him to tell you stories on how he got some of his scars, and some stories were really stupid to keep the mood light ("I tried to get a fuckin' cat off a tree and it fuckin' jumped down and scratched me. Didn’t even get a fucking thank you.") and some stories still hurt to this day – he asked not to talk about a few, and omitted a lot of details in the ones that he did tell to keep you from worrying about what happened to him in the past.
Bakugo noticed that your expression never changed: you just earnestly listened to him, wanting to know more about him while the look of pity he was expecting from you never came.
He realizes that he likes you more than he should just because you see him for who he is.
That night, he finds his dreams are not haunted by his usual demons and instead, feels the warm touch of an angel on the scar barely above his shoulder.
Redemption.
Even for just a split second, he recognizes that touch to be yours.
Bonus: “If you wanted to see me shirtless, you should’ve just asked, sweetheart.” “Shut the fuck up, Katsuki! I’m trying to be serious here!” “You’re so hot when you’re trying to be mad.” “You’re ruining the moment!”
#bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugo imagine#bakugo drabble#bakugou drabble#bakugou imagine#bakugou fluff#bakugo x you#bakugou x you#bakugou x reader#bakugou x y/n#bakugo x y/n#katsuki x you#katsuki x y/n#my hero imagines#my hero x reader#mha x reader#mha imagines#bnha x you#bnha imagines#bnha fluff
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Wriothesley has fallen asleep on the job.
It's not a surprise, not in the least. He's spent more time at the Fortress of Meropide than he has at home lately, overworking himself with an unfathomable amount of new inmates to house.
He's always taken his work quite seriously, both as a show of gratitude to the people of Fontaine and to protect his pride in having the most inescapable prison in the entire nation. And more than that, he's always refused your help much to your chagrin.
You find him asleep at his desk, piles of paperwork buried under his head as a makeshift pillow. He snores softly, meaning that he must have just knocked out recently.
A quiet sigh escapes you as you tread over to his sleeping form, draping the coat dangling on the back of his chair over his body as a temporary blanket. Fontaine is chilly, and despite his unusual warmth, risking Wriothesley getting sick is the last thing you want in the world.
It strikes you then. He's asleep. Asleep, in front of you, completely vulnerable and unknowingly allowing you to observe every part of him without judgement: the slow rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathes, human and alive; the hair that's fallen out of place and over the eyes which you love so much; the light murmurs of his recited dreams leaving his lips yet unintelligible.
You're surprised that it's never dawned on you before. You've rarely had the chance to see him sleep.
Wriothesley always roused before the crack of dawn, waking you after him with his lips pressed to your forehead. "Good morning, pretty," he would greet you before taking off for the day. And he was so warm to hold at night that you would often fall asleep before him, comforted by the slow beating of his heart against your ear.
It's a strange sight to see him looking so unguarded, all evidence of the torment of his busy day washed out of his expression as he snores.
You shouldn't. You know you shouldn't. But you can't help it. The Kamera is pulled from your bag before you can stop yourself, fingers nimbly getting the lens ready without stirring him. You're just about to take a picture worth a thousand words when—
"Mornin', pretty."
You almost drop the Kamera out of surprise, clutching it to your chest while you glare at the smugness written all over his face. There's a gruffness and slur to his voice that makes you weak in the knees, so unlike how you're used to hearing him in the mornings when he's already had his tea.
His steely eyes peer up at you curiously as you try and stammer out a weak excuse, to little avail. You should have known that the Lord of the Fortress of Meropide would have sharp enough senses to wake with even the smallest disturbance. He sits up straight, the coat hanging on his shoulders falling off onto the seat.
(It makes him melt that you've attempted to keep him warm, even though it seems like you've come all the way out to the Fortress at such an hour just to check up on him.)
He looks around. "No one escorted you?"
You bashfully avert your eyes, fumbling around with your Kamera and trying pathetically to hide it behind your back as if you weren't caught red-handed already.
"The guards let me in."
"But you came alone?"
His frown deepens when you nod. Wriothesley gathers up his remaining papers into one pile and shoves them aside before striding over to you. "Have a guard escort you home. It's dangerous to go back alone," is his demand.
"You're not coming home tonight?" You ask quietly, lips pulling back into a small pout of disappointment. His heart aches at the thought that he may have been neglecting you in the last few days, even more than he had been neglecting himself.
"I have to finish up some things," he tells you with the slightest bit of guilt bleeding into his words. He runs a hand through his hair before sighing. "Why don't you stay here tonight?"
It's a lame offer, asking the love of his life to sleep in such a dinky, run-down place. But the light that explodes in your eyes and smile tell him that you don't care. You never would, so long as you were by his side.
"Okay," you whisper, and he kisses you in apology.
That night, at an hour so late that not even the prisoners make a peep, he realizes that your Kamera is still set down on the coffee table beside your resting form. He has drowned you in his coat and a spare blanket, laid you out across his office couch, and though it's not luxurious you seem to be resting well.
Just a few more days. A few more days of processing all of the new papers sent by Neuvillette and he would be free to come home to your loving arms and fall asleep in your shared bed. For now, this would have to suffice.
The man gathers you up into his arms and slides beneath you, holding you atop his chest like he always does. He's careful not to wake you as he settles in to call it a night.
There's a faint shutter as he holds the device up in the air and takes a picture of the both of you, with your body curled up against his and his arm around your waist.
He presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head. "Goodnight, pretty."
("When did you take this?!"
"You don't like it?" He asks you nonchalantly, eyes busy with reading the morning Steambird.
"I didn't say that," you grumble, flustered at how he's holding you in the image. Did he always hold you so close? So protectively?
Wriothesley smiles at you with his lips on the rim of his mug. "You snore, by the way."
"Shut up!")
© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.
#— whispers in the wind ✧#genshin impact#genshin#genshin impact fic#genshin impact drabbles#genshin impact fluff#wriothesley#wriothesley genshin#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley x you#wriothesley x y/n#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#genshin impact x y/n#genshin x reader#genshin fanfic
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Boyfriend material: Mattheo Riddle
Mattheo tries to convince you he’s boyfriend material, but almost screws it up. Smut, so beware!
This part two. Read part one here.
Warning: piv, no protection, oral fem receiving.
Feedback is always very, very welcome.
Somewhat after midnight, you're dancing with Luna and a definitely drunk Hermoine. Pansy lets herself fall next to Mattheo who had been sitting on a couch with a drink in his hand, talking with a random piss drunk Ravenclaw. “Don’t party too hard, Matty.” Pansy can’t hide her pleased smile. Mattheo clenches his jaw, but ignores her. “You know, with an attitude like that people will start thinking something is bothering you.” The filthy grin on Pansy’s face never drops. Matheo leans back and finally looks at Pansy. “I’m not playing.” He simply states. Pansy lets out a laugh. “I know, I figured that much. Actually for the better. You couldn’t have won.” He raises an eyebrow and she elaborates. “(Y/n) is looking for a boyfriend and she doesn’t think your boyfriend material.” Mattheo’s eyes go soft as he stares at you. “I’m not boyfriend material, hm?” His question comes out so vulnerable even Pansy softens up a bit. “She wants hot sex, but also late night cuddles. She wants to lay her head on someone's shoulder and hold hands, intertwine fingers. She wants stolen kisses in the hallway between classes. Study sessions with messy make outs. Casual evenings, reading while leaning against one another. Nothing you would ever wanna settle for, right?”
You’re still dancing when an arm snakes around your waist. You turn your head, your nose almost brushes Mattheo’s. He gently pushes you against him and whispers: “Come with me.”. But he doesn’t wait for your answer. Pushing you in the direction of the exit. You make your way to the hallway, when someone tries to talk to you he grabs your wrist and drags you a little further to an empty hallway. “What’s up with you?” You ask, getting frustrated and you push him away. He licks his lips and a cocky grin spreads on his face. You're immediately intimidated and back up against a wall as he comes closer. He rests his hand against the wall and his other hand lingers near your side, but he doesn’t touch you. “Apparently you don’t think I’m boyfriend material.” He whispers in your ear. You swallow at the twisted tone in his voice. You want to protest but your mind can only think of his piercing eyes looking at you longingly. “I would like to prove you wrong.”
His face inches towards you, his perfect curly hair falls a bit forward, he’s too close for you to function properly. It really doesn’t matter if he really is boyfriend material or not. You want him and your body is screaming for any kind of touch, resulting in a soft whimpering noise rolling over your lips. For a second he smirks, enjoying what he’s already doing to you without touching you, but then again he really wants you too so his lips crash into yours. One hand reaches for your face, holding you as he kisses you passionately with a hint of hunger. His other hand pushes the small of your back, keeping you close. Your hand rests on his chest, tugging the material of his shirt urging him for more, while simultaneously intertwining your fingers in his hair, claiming as much of him as you can. His lips let go of yours, giving you a moment to breathe, but he doesn’t seem to need a break and continues kissing and sucking the flesh of your neck. When he finds your soft spot, you arch your back, unintentionally winding him up even more, and this does force him to take a moment to catch his breath. He scans over your body, pushed against his. A soft growl escapes him. He curses himself for having so little control over his hunger for you.
Mattheo’s attitude shifts and he lets out a sheepish laugh. “As part of proving to you that I’m boyfriend material, I say we take it slow.” With that he takes a step back. As his warmth leaves you, realization washes over you. What? Take it slow? Just my luck. I get Mattheo on his one day of good behavior. “What? Are you playing a game?” You blur out, “I’m going to find Enzo, at least he knows what girl needs from her boyfriend.” Mattheo’s eyes widen. You can only take one step before Mattheo is already in your way. With a confused and slightly angry expression he desperately scans your face. Woman, what do you want? I really am no boyfriend material. I have no clue what she wants. Fuck. How did I already screw this up? His shoulders drop and his face becomes so soft, it’s then that you realize he was serious about this. You smile lovingly and take a step closer. You wrap your arms around his neck. “I don’t want to take it slow.” Mattheo’s signature smile returns to his face.
The walk to his dorm was filled with sloppy kisses and him squeezing your ass signaling for you to hurry up. Once in his room, he pulls his shirt over his head. Exposing a muscular Mattheo with messy hair that gently leans against the door as he locks it. He looks at you as you ever so slowly unbutton your oversized shirt, gently exposing a little more skin to Mattheo. His breath gets a little louder with each button and his hardening member is starting to twitch. When your shirt falls to the floor and you stand there in shorts and bra only, he approaches you almost touching you but for the moment only watching you. “So, if I get this boyfriend thing right, I can have you in this room, again, tomorrow?” You nod and you close the last bit of space between you two by hooking a finger behind the outline of his pants, pulling him into you. His lips leave sloppy kisses before lustfully locking with your lips, all the while you make work of undoing his pants. Your hand strokes over the bulge held by his boxers. “Fuck.” He growls, he makes quick work of your bra and pushes you onto his bed.
As he crawls over you he shamelessly stares at your breasts. “My oh my.” Is all he says before having his way with your boobs. Kneading the left one, while sucking and licking the nipple of your right breast. It’s like he’s playing an instrument, everything he does has you making noises that sound like music to his ears. He can feel himself get harder with every second. He wishes he could play with you all night, but he honestly doesn’t have the self control for it. “Matty, please.” You whine. Your legs shift, as your pussy is in desperate need of attention. He slowly kisses his way down to your shorts. When you get impatient with his teasingly slow way of taking off your shorts and panties, you slip your own hand down to your folds. “Don’t think so, love.” Mattheo says and snatches your hand to hold it in his. He crawls over to you, his lips landing on yours as his fingers intertwined with yours, pushing your hand into the sheets. “Now let me do the work.”
“You tease too much.” You say with a pout on your face. “Is that so?” His eyes never leave yours as he plays with your nipple, leaving your pussy longing. “Matty!” You whine and your only free hand thugs at his biceps signaling that he needs to move. He loves how needy you are and how whiny you get. He smirks and comes down claiming another kiss from your lips. This time his hand moves down and without teasing or warning he pushes in a finger, immediately circling your clit. Your buck your hips, fucking his finger. “Needy are we?” Mattheo taunts. “Says the guy who’s staining his boxers.” You snap back, pleased to know he is as desperate for you as you are for him. But he really is desperate, desperate to make you come so he can then mercilessly and selfishly fuck you. You squeeze your legs around his hand, finger still circling your throbbing clit, signaling how close you are. “Come on, love, open your legs for me, let me take care of you.”
The moment you open your legs, his mouth is on your folds and his tongue guides you to your release. One hand on your boob and the other holding your leg, making sure he has all the access he needs. His name leaves your mouth over and over again between moans and whines as your orgasm washes over you. You softly pull on his hair as you need him to stop pleasuring you, feeling like you’re going to explode because of the overstimulation. It’s your squirming and begging that almost push him over the edge. So when he pulls away, he keeps himself from staring at the wonderful view you are, making quick work of his last piece of clothing. You're still coming down from your high as you get to watch him pump himself a few times. “Oh, Merlin.” You blur, slightly worried about your overstimulated pussy. “Don’t worry, love, I’ll be gentle. So, may I?” He asks so politely how can I say no. You nod.
He swallows and licks his lips. “Would you mind rolling over?” A moan slips your mouth at his request, your pussy going desperate for him again. You shift your position, arching your back and giving him a perfect view of what he wanted. “Fuck. I need you.” He sighs admiring you. He slips his thick hard cock inside of your soaking wet pussy and gives you a moment to adjust, while gently stretches your walls. “You’re perfect.” Is all he manages to say before he starts thrusting into you with a steady pace. Your hands instinctively grab a hold of the sheets, enjoying how he has his way with you, enjoying how his hands again make their way to your boobs playing with your nipples and enjoying how he moans your name softly. The sounds of your bodies clashing over and over again fill the room. He quickly figures out how he needs to take you to have you begging. When you start whimpering his name, he pulls out and flips you over and fills you with his cock again. “I’m so close. I need to see your pretty face.” He explains. Your mouth hangs open as no sounds come out. He holds your face in his hand as he watches you with lustfull eyes while rutting into you hitting your sensitive spot harder each time. A pleading moan leaves your lips and you pull Mattheo close, hiding in the crook of his neck, as your walls clench around him. Letting your second orgasm wash over you. After that it only takes a few hard thrusts to have you now both reaching your high.
He lets his cock rest inside you for a few seconds loving the idea of being inside of you, of having you. Mattheo’s possessive side definitely shows as he holds you the entire night, shamelessly admiring your body, but also treating you like a goddess.
And as requested a tag for @crossedskulls 😊
#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle x reader#slytherin boys#slytherin#papercorgiworldwritings
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baby honey 2
DATE: NOVEMBER 5, 2023
summary: you and harry need to talk. so, you do. along with other things.
song: Fantasy- the driver era
words: 7.2k
warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [oral, choking], daddy kink, slight dumbification, mentions of voyurism/exhibitism [not clearly stated] and porn, protected sex, dirty talk!!), language, and a very blunt y/n.
note: i actually got a part two out not that long after the first part?? omg?? monumental moment here guys. enjoy! PART ONE!
secret pornstar!harry x secret pornstar!y/n
—
DaylightDaddy [verified]: What are you doing to me?
You were waiting by your computer for the longest sixteen minutes of your life. That’s how long it took Harry to watch your less-than-ten-minute video and then text you back. Your heart, which was still flat on the floor of your stomach, leaps excitedly when it sees Harry’s message on your computer screen.
That message alone verified to you that DaylightDaddy was indeed Harry. Of course Harry would bring back his infamous saying at a time like this. You wanted to ditch the conversation on this website and text Harry personally. You also wanted to go to his house and pounce on him for being ridiculously attractive and vulnerable. You were an idiot by not saying anything yesterday and he was an idiot by being so blunt and angry. You both could have ruined not only your friendship but your chances at being something more by not talking. Communication is key, yet you’re still locked.
Why?
Maybe because somewhere in the dark crack of your heart, you’re terrified that you’ll be vulnerable to a man that’s six years older than you just for him to say that he doesn’t actually like you. He just likes your breasts and the idea of sleeping with you.
But that’s not Harry, right?
Without responding to his message, you grab your phone that has been forgotten on your floor. The second you sent that video to him you chucked it across the room and hoped for the best. It seems as though it worked, but at the same time, there is still so much unsaid with Harry. So many feelings you need to work out. But first, you need to talk and figure out how you both actually feel. Is it just lust? Is it just the fact that you two work together? Or is it something more?
Y/N: harry
He texts you almost simultaneously.
Harry: Y/N
Your fingers freeze at the keyboard. Even though you were just talking to him, how do you bring up such a serious conversation. We need to talk? Or I need to talk to you? They both sound bad.
Harry: Are you working today?
You and Harry both know damn well neither of you works. Him asking this question just seems like he’s continuing to avoid you, and avoid the inevitable conversation that you guys need to have. Did your video not spark a lightbulb in his head? How can he not tell that you do feel whatever he feels? Maybe even more…
Y/N: i am not, but i think you know that
Y/N: can we talk? are you busy?
You know he’s not busy, but that doesn’t make his reaction any scarier.
Harry: I’m free
Harry: Do you want to come over
It was one of the scariest texts he’s ever sent. After what just went down between you two, inviting you over could mean anything. It’s clear there’s a strong attraction connecting you both, but there is also a lot of murky water that needs to be cleaned.
Y/N: yes
Harry: Let me pick you up
That stubbornness inside of you that Harry is all too familiar with wanted to fight him. To tell him that you are more than capable of driving yourself, even though you only have Penny’s car for one more day. But him suggesting to pick you up showed his desperation to see you. And maybe that was a good thing. Maybe the forward action instead of the backing away was what you two needed.
Y/N: okay
Y/N: give me an hour!!
You needed time to think about it of course.
—
Within that hour, you were going crazy. You took a warm, hard-pressed shower in order to massage all the tension in your body and hopefully in your mind. You thought about every possible scenario about seven thousand times, hoping that you’d get it right. This time, you planned to say the right words and not stand there like a fucking statue when faced with his vulnerability. This time, you were going to be vulnerable too, because you’ve never had a chance at something more like this before. And you don’t want to ruin it just because you’re afraid. How lame is that?
While you were waiting for Harry to text you, you pace around the room. Your eyes averted to your computer that was still lying on your bed, and the only thing you could think about was your conversation with Harry. Not only had he called you attractive but he compared your beauty to everyone on the website and still said you were the most attractive. Was that just him flirting? Or was he being serious? You wondered if Harry really felt that way about you and you hoped you would find out soon.
On that thought, you never even checked if his money went through. You know the second that it does you’ll be giving it right back to him. So, while you’re still waiting, you open up your bank app on your phone. Even though you’re sitting on your bed now, your leg is still bouncing up and down, anxiety infiltrating your blood like the most insane drug.
When you finally comprehend the number that is present on your screen, your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. You blink a couple hundred times before briskly checking your most recent transactions. In neon green letters an extravagant $2000+ appears in front of you. Your hand jaggedly and slowly finds its way over your agape mouth, bewildered at Harry’s extreme act. What on earth would cause Harry to willingly send you that much money? Yes, you have complained about your financial situation, but you also clearly denied Harry of a loan. Now, you have to send his money back and it’s going to be really awkward. Another thing you have to add to your list of “Things to Talk Through with Harry”. Just as you close the app, Harry texts you that he’s at your place.
–
“Hey,” You manage to cough out as you slide nervously into his passenger seat.
“Hey,” Harry replies with a thick swallow. His grip on the steering wheel changes from intense to loose every few seconds before he starts the car.
There’s a low hum on the radio along with his air conditioning blowing cool air towards you. But other than that, no one had said a word. You peek over the dashboard a few times to see the road, wondering how far Harry lives from you and how quickly you can get out of this car. You hoped when you got to his house that this unbreathable, anxious tension would have died down, so you two can finally sort this shit out.
As a few more minutes pass by, you realize that you hate this. You hate the awkward silence that’s dawning over your friendship and making you overthink every single word. It’s never been like this with Harry, ever. You’ve never had to second-guess your late-night conversations and he never had to restrain his friendly charm. This, this tension, is unlike both of you.
You have to talk. Maybe you should mention the money?
“I know y’want to say something. Just say it, please, I can’t stand this awkwardness,” Harry blurts out as he stops at a red light. You inhale and blink, suddenly feeling a bit more alive with the sound of his voice.
“I looked at my bank,” You said, looking down at your lap. You were already being shy and you haven’t even got to the actual vulnerable stuff yet. What is wrong with you?
“Have you?”
“Yeah, and I saw the money you gave me.”
“Good.”
“Harry, you know I can’t take that,” Now, you turn your head towards his, which is safely facing the road. But you know he sees you and you know he’s stressed with your stubbornness.
“But you already did. It’s in your account, yeah?”
“Okay, but–”
“I don’t understand why you won’t take my money. Is it not good enough for you or somethin’?” Harry’s voice has become more agitated, making his last turn a bit sharper. You see him take a deep breath as he pulls into a driveway of a nice house. It was nice because the lawn was green and cut and the color of its walls were a pleasant cream color with a smooth navy blue as its border. It wasn’t the biggest house ever, but Harry was more practical than that. He didn’t need some huge, showy house in order to seem cool. Harry was already cool, whether he knew it or not.
“All money is the same, you doy.”
“You didn’t want it when I said I could loan it to you. Then I found a way to give it to you because you earned it and you still won’t take it. How does that make sense?”
“That’s different!”
“How is that different?”
“You of all people should know!”
Harry groans out of frustration and gets out of the car. “Let’s just get in the house.”
You follow suit, shutting the car door a little more roughly than you thought. Before you know it, you’re in his house and it’s just so Harry. His furniture is smooth; all browns and woods. He had pictures of his family scattered along with abstract art. By his decently sized television is a large record player next to an impressive case of vinyls. He even has a miniature bookshelf full of books that would probably bore you, but it still fascinates you.
“What, have you never seen a house before?”
“Don’t get all snappy with me. We were supposed to talk.”
“You make it difficult.”
“Why? Because I won’t take your money?”
“That doesn’t help,” he crosses his arms before dropping to sit on his couch. Again, you follow him, but keep your distance. You don’t miss the way his house smells just like him; a homey breeze of fresh air with a sprinkle of nature. It was earthly and friendly and charming. Just like him. “But it’s your stubbornness.”
To be fair, your stubbornness is one of Harry’s favorite traits about you. But it’s also the one that gets under his skin the most. He admires the way you can stand up for yourself and you know how to get exactly what you want. But he’s noticed that your need for independence interferes with your other desires.
“I can’t help it. I was born to fight,” You sighed out, lying against the couch cushions. “At least that’s what my dad always says.”
“I don’t want to fight, Honey,” The new nickname has rows of shivers cascading your skin. You feel a tingle in your stomach that you get when he says something charming or flirtatious. It’s impossible to fight the butterflies and heart pulses he gives you.
“Me either,” You take a deep breath, just like you did in the shower and just like Harry did in the car. This was your time to be vulnerable, to be first. You wanted to show Harry that you cared and that you weren’t just being stubborn to be annoying. You loved when you guys would close together, even if you consistently told him you would do it yourself. You loved the late-night talks you would have while cleaning up the bar, talking about anything and everything in order to waste time. You were endeared that Harry always walked you to your car in the early morning after the doors were locked just to make sure you were safe. You missed the way his hands felt on your arms when he caught you and the feeling of his chest pressed closely to yours. Friends don’t crave like that. No, because you weren’t friends. You were more and you both knew it. You cared about him and you appreciated his care for you. Shit, you freaking liked him and it took you both revealing your secret identities to prove it. Even if you two haven’t technically talked about it.
“H…”
“Y/N.”
“Everything you told me that night. Was it true?”
There was a weighted beat. One that was long and heavy enough to shatter the earth.
“Yes, of course it was. Why would I lie about that?”
“I don’t–” You turned to face him. “I’m not…good at this stuff. I don’t randomly hook up with people or go on dates. I especially don’t go to their house after sending them a video of me orgasming to confess my feelings to them.”
Harry blinks. He didn’t think you would mention it so vulgarly, but maybe he doesn’t know you like he thought he did. But he would like to. He doesn’t sound like you’re accusing him of doing those things, more of just you warning him about yourself. Harry does extract the little hint of your words and uses them to interrogate you.
“Feelings. What feelings?”
“Well, currently I’m frustrated–”
“Y/N,” his voice of seriousness causes your eyes to drop into your lap. You fiddle with your thumbs like a nervous kindergartener on their first day of school. It wasn’t like you to get so shy. You were a bartender for a living; you couldn’t be shy. But you just haven’t reserved these types of feelings for someone in so long it feels foreign. It feels as though you’re stretching outside of your comfortable zone and forcing you to be sheepish with your eyes down.
“Fine. I like…our friendship. A lot. But this week made me realize that I want more than that. With you,” You peer up at him through your eyelids, hoping not to see his face cringe with disgust at your words. But Harry’s face is flattened straight with nothing but the intent of listening. He even has a sparkle of softness in his eyes that makes your heart lurch out to him. He cared, and it showed in his features. Your mom always told you that people’s real emotions were always revealed on their face, and it was written like a love letter over his.
His patient silence makes you want to fill it with some type of conversation due to the uncomfortableness with your sudden vulnerability. Skittishly, you swallow in an attempt to coat your dry throat. “But I haven’t got much further than that. I know that I’m attracted to you. I mean, fuck, you saw the video, right? I probably didn’t even need the bullet–what did I just say? That’s not what I wanted to say. I wanted to say that I don’t want this to just be an attraction because I don’t think I could handle that. That felt good to say. I think I’ve said “say” too much and now it sounds weird…”
“I feel that way too,” he replies, the smallest curve of his lip breaking the straight line. He adores the way you rant when you're nervous, it is now a new thing he is adding to his list. He loves making you nervous because you give him little details about yourself. “Thank you for finally getting the balls to tell me. Took you long enough.”
You didn’t expect him to say that. You didn’t practice that in the shower! “Me?! You were the one who was avoiding me!” You were shouting, but it was all fun now. A laugh followed as a bright smile crept on your face. Something like a weight felt lifted off your shoulders, off your chest.
“But who said something first?”
“You said you liked my breasts and that you get jealous easily. Doesn’t seem like you were confessing any feelings,” You jokingly roll your eyes as he scoots closer to you.
“Why would I get jealous if I didn’t like ya? Thought I made tha’ obvious.”
“Could have been more. Then we could have avoided this all together.”
“You probably would’ve just stood there with y’mouth open.”
Your mouth indeed falls open as he laughs, his comment causing you to gasp in joking offense. You take that moment to punch his shoulder, but his hand catches your wrist during the movement. Your laughs are halted when you both realize how close you are; your thighs were touching and his face was only a few inches from yours. The whiff of his scent gave you flashbacks to last night when he caught you and you were pressed perfectly against his toned chest. Thinking of his chest made you remember the videos you saw online and how addicting they were to watch, especially after you found out it actually was Harry. Now, you know how porn addicts come to be.
Unintentionally, you lick your lips while looking at his. You don’t miss the way he does the same, glaring at your lips like he’s starving and their his last meal. Your lips have haunted him ever since your first day; painted in red and screaming fierce. The way you smiled was mesmerizing to Harry, but you could say the same about Harry’s effortless charm. It’s been too long dreaming and imagining your lips on his own. Now, with everything out in the open–besides the whole porn star thing, which is for another time–maybe he can finally kiss those lips. Kiss them so well that he ruins any other man for you in the bar, in school, in porn, in life. Staring at your lips made Harry think crazy things. He can’t even imagine the filth his brain will conjure if he sees your naked body in real life.
He’s getting too ahead of himself.
“You smell good,” You whispered, forcing yourself to break the pressing tension. You two were slowly inching towards each other, so he could feel your words float over his own lips like a ghost. He hums at the feeling and the compliment. “Like a forest.”
“How long are we gonna sit like this until I can kiss ya?” The statement made your cheeks blaze with fire and your stomach tumble.
Clearly you were both done beating around the bush.
“I was waiting for you to ask! What if you didn’t want to? You know how important consent is too–”
But Harry doesn’t wait for you to stop your incessant rant. He smashes his lips to yours like he’s been dying to all this time. Your lips mush together, creating a warm, gooey feeling inside of your stomach. Harry releases your wrist and slides his hands down to your waist and carries you over to his lap. You gently bite down on his bottom lip seductively, causing him to groan against you. His rough hands pinch the skin of your hips, making you squeak in his mouth. He uses the opportunity to slide his tongue in, exploring your mouth like its new land on earth.
It’s been so long for you, you can barely remember the last time you’ve been kissed. But you know for damn sure it was never like this. It was never this fiery, this passionate, this wanted, this needed. Kissing Harry was like drinking water after being dehydrated; so obsessively satisfying, you can’t get enough. Until you drink too much and then your stomach hurts, but you doubt that will happen.
Harry can feel himself growing impressively hard underneath you. Even with you above him fully clothed has his body and mind going haywire. He’s not sure how far this is going to go, but he’s also not sure how long he’s going to last. Shit, if you even palm his bulge he might come.
And you thought he didn’t want this.
Your hands around his neck slide their way down his chest as his grip on your hips gets tighter. He pushes you closer, making you arch your back until your breasts are pressing against his chest. The abrupt movement causes the kiss to break, a breathless gasp eliciting from your swollen mouth.
“Jesus,” Harry huffs out.
“What?”
Harry ignores your question. “What do y’want?”
“You…? I thought I made that pretty clear–”
“Don’t be a smart mouth. Or I’ll put it to good use,” His threat sends a tingle straight to your core, which was covered by your soaking underwear. Just the idea of him forcing you on the floor to take his cock in your throat was erotic enough for you to get off of. Actually doing it might make you come on the spot. “What, you like that?”
“What if I do?”
“Then I can make it happen, baby.”
“But what if I want something else more?”
“Say the words.”
You hesitated. As a porn star, you’re pretty good with dirty talk. In the past, you have had no problem whispering sweet, seductive words. But Harry has your tongue tied, brain mushy, and body gooey.
“I want you inside of me.” You were straight-forward. Honest. After this whole ordeal with you two, you figured you both deserved some relief.
“I’ve been waiting too fuckin’ long for those words.”
Without wasting another minute, Harry lifts both you and himself off the couch. You make a little squeal sound before grabbing on tight to him so you don’t fall. When you somehow get to his bedroom, you’re gently tossed on his bed with a smile hanging from your lips. Harry climbs over you and immediately tugs the hem of your shirt.
“Please take it off.”
You did not need to tell him twice.
Harry did just as you asked as quickly as possible because you two were both getting a bit desperate. Like before, Harry loves edging and teasing and being in control. And one day, he’s going to do it all with you. But right now, he just needs to be inside of you, as selfish as it sounds.
Once he flips your shirt off, you’re brisk to clip off your bra. Goosebumps pimple along your skin in anticipation of what’s to come as Harry’s eyes flit over your body. He swallows harshly, mind swimming in a thousand thoughts that were all related to you. His searing gaze only makes you more flushed with heat, elbows sinking into the mattress while you wait for him to do something. You push yourself up and tug the end of his T-shirt.
“Well, what is it? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“‘Cause you’re really here.”
“That is so sweet, but please, fuck me first. I need it.” Maybe his searing gaze also gave you a newfound confidence that allowed you to say what was actually on your mind. His intense stare made you feel powerful. Like you were in control.
“Jesus Christ, we have to fix that mouth,” he growls as you slide off his shirt over his head while he kneels on the edge of the bed. You don’t even get another word in before he’s crashing his lips back onto yours in another heated kiss.
It’s not much different from the first one–maybe a little more sloppy because you’re both getting needy. Both your mouths are sloshed together with sparks tingling on your tongues. Those sparks are igniting flames within your souls, making the stress and yearning worth it. Everything felt worth it when you two were this close together.
With the same passion, Harry forces himself away from your mouth and down your neck. He’s not gentle with his teeth, nibbling with each peck of your skin he passes. Each nick injects excitement through your veins, turning you on more than you would like to admit. You already know that there will be little marks because your skin is so sensitive, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. You actually are endeared by a bunch of little marks rather than a few huge ones. Maybe you can pass the miniature hickies off as freckles…
When Harry gets to your breasts, he wants to stop and stare. Take a few long minutes to just encompass the beauty that is in front of him. But he assumes you don’t want to be ogled anymore, since he was standing still and gazing at you like a teenage girl taking a picture of a pink sunset. So, instead, his lips enclose around your nipple. His tongue glides around it, feeling its pointiness peak until he is satisfied with the sounds coming from your lewd mouth. He does the same to the other side until you’re panting and your heart has turned erratic.
His pink lips trail down your torso, marking each inch of skin with a bit of saliva and a warm kiss. His fingers traced your shape, gently scratching at your sides until you were practically squirming in his touch. You’ve never been this wet in your life and it was driving you insane. Harry was driving you insane.
“So soft, Honey,” he coos when he reaches the waistline of your pants. You help him remove the clothing, so you’re not wasting anymore time because it’s blatantly obvious you’re both desperate as hell. His compliment made your skin tingle and your spine shiver. That nickname would be the death of you, you were sure of it. He made you feel all hot and dizzy but also made you gooey and cared for. It was an intense combination of emotions that you definitely needed to sort out. But after you get his cock inside of you.
Yeah. You could settle for that.
Harry now had a full view of your underwear, which was completely soaked through. But at this point, you’re not even embarrassed as much as you are needy. Hell, you’re even spreading your legs wider for him so he has quicker access to you. Yeah. It was that bad.
“Look at you all wet and drippy,” Harry smirks as he hooks his fingers in your panties. He surprises you by pulling them up, the fabric being consumed by your pussy lips. “Such a pretty cunt. Never even seen you this wet on a video. I must be special.”
“It’s all for you, Harry. Or should I say Daddy?” Now, you were smirking. You were only teasing, but at the same time, you were testing the waters. If Harry’s username used the title, you had an inkling that he had some type of kink towards it, right?
With a subtle grunt, he yanks your legs closer to him and widens them even further apart. He doesn’t even hesitate to rip your panties in half and discard the now wasted fabric.
“Harry!” You yelled, shocked at how quickly bare you are. And that he just shredded your underwear. But it was also kind of hot. Like very hot. He slapped the inside of your thigh as a warning, a stinging zip coursing straight to your core.
“No more Harry for you. Since y’want to be such a smart mouth, when you speak, y’better say Daddy.”
Before you know it, his head is lowering towards your cunt. His lips latch onto your clit similarly to your nipple and suck. You let out a gasping moan, fingers instantly clawing at the sheets of his bed. His tongue delves into your folds and warmly slips into you like you wished his cock would. But you were currently in heaven with the heat of his mouth devouring you like his last meal on Earth.
The way his large hands gripped and man-handled your thighs was enough to leave bruising. But you wanted the bruising. You wanted to feel the pain and soreness of this tomorrow just in case it never happens again. You’re not sure what all of this is going to mean for you guys, but you don’t think this will be the end. No, you think it’s going to be the beginning.
You could feel yourself getting wetter with each lick and slurp. Your tailbone was beginning to ache from arching your back to the absolute max. Once that all-too familiar feeling was rushing towards you like a train, Harry’s mouth only got quicker. He even started spitting on your cunt and watched the juices mix together, and that only made your insides clench at the lewdness of it all. Harry was a dirty, dirty man. You knew he was only showing bits and pieces of himself. You wanted to unravel it all and learn more about him and what he liked. But maybe that was for another time…
Without realizing it, your hands were sewn in his brown curls, forcing his head to remain on your clit until you reached your high. Harry’s groans were muffled into vibrations as you tugged, getting more pleasure through them. Your hips were moving in circular motions, but Harry pressed you down with his forearm to keep you flat and still.
“Har–” He pinched your ass, causing you to shriek and correct yourself, “Daddy, please, I’m so close. I’m right there.”
You rarely begged. On your livestreams and videos, you were confident and sexy and seducing because that’s what your audience liked. It’s what you’ve learned and grown to do. You weren’t used to needing something from someone else so fucking bad that you were pleading for them to make you satisfied. Harry’s mouth was currently your kryptonite because you would do anything for him to get you to the finish line.
He suckled on your clit for a few long seconds before you were coming in his mouth. Chants of his title were echoing loudly in his room that the neighbors probably thought you were dying. You were, just in a different way. Harry was gladly swallowing all your juices , his chin sloppy with all them. When it all got too much, you tried to push him away, but he didn’t move until he was completely done.
“Taste so sweet. Just like honey.”
He doesn’t fail to bring more heat onto your skin, even after just having his mouth on you. Something about the way he compliments you and manages to incorporate the word honey will always get you. He seems to read you so easily, and no one’s ever done that before.
“Knew from the video that you’d taste amazing.”
“Yeah?”
“I can’t believe you sent me that video by the way.”
“What? Why?”
“What if it wasn’t me?”
“It’s my job, Harry.”
“So? You were moanin’ my name. That means it’s for me. You’re for me.” The staring that was occurring between you quickly ended as your eyes flitted away from him. You made sure to look anywhere else but him as you heard the sound of his pants falling. Sometimes, Harry could be pretty blunt in the way he claimed you, but at the same time very guarded. He’s saying that you’re his, but you two haven’t even discussed things that far yet.
“Says who?”
“Says me. Right now,” Harry practically growls as he climbs over your body again, his insane physique hovering over you. You never thought you would actually see the day that Harry–the charming, tattooed, sexy man you worked with–was on top of you. You’ve only ever envisioned him in your wet dreams doing the most sinful things known. God wouldn’t be able to forgive the sins you’ve conjured in your brain.
You don’t even get to retort because you’re only thinking about his cock. You had felt his impressive bulge on the couch and assumed he had been rocking himself into the bed while eating you out. As he kissed your neck again, you would feel his hardness poking at you greedily, but you haven’t even looked at it yet. It was probably just as pretty as it was in all his videos.
He extends himself towards his night stand while you’re caught in your thoughts, snatching a condom. You’re glad he didn’t ask to go bare like most guys do. But “most guys” to you are a bunch of college losers who just want to get their dick wet and don’t actually care about the consequences. If you were to get pregnant, they probably wouldn’t even blink an eye before leaving. But you knew Harry wasn’t like that. No, he was the type to think things through and actually be mature about things. Besides the fact that he avoided you…but it’s not like you were very mature about it either. Maybe the age distance between you and Harry was something that you needed. The college boys just weren’t doing it for you.
It’s strange how so many thoughts can sprout from a simple as Harry grabbing a condom. The bare fucking minimum.
“What’s wrong?” Harry’s voice was full of concern as his thick thumb rubbed over your warm cheek. You hadn’t even realized how close he had gotten since he had stretched over towards the drawer and you didn’t know that he’d already put the condom on. So, again, you missed the sight of his huge, God-like dick in-person. Despite all of that, a ping of appreciation hit you right in the heart at Harry’s attention to detail because you know that those college boys wouldn’t have noticed a damn thing.
“Nothing, I–”
“Don’t lie, Honey. Do y’still want this? We don’t have to,” he reassured, eyes sparking with something that was different from the hidden lust. His voice could be rough and firm, but it could also be soothing and sweet. He had these sides to him that he would encompass. Not necessarily switch like a light but transition into smoothly.
“Harry, I’m fine. I promise. This is the only thing I want right now,” You rested your hand on top of his on your cheek. At that moment, everything felt a little more intimate. A little more love-like. The idea of sex turning into “love-making” currently terrified you, but the racing of your heart wasn’t from fear. No, it felt like it was exciting and anxious but in the best way. “Actually, I would be not so fine if you didn’t put your dick in me.”
“You have such a dirty mouth when you’re blunt, Honey,” Harry smoothes his hand down your body and finds your clit again, rubbing gentle circles over the throbbing nerves. Even though you just came only minutes prior, you continued to get wet with every second you were waiting for him. The sight of his body with all those beautiful designs was enough to get you ready for another. He didn’t even have to work you up.
“Thought that’s what you wanted.”
“I’m hearin’ more attitude than screams of m’name. Let’s change that.”
With a devilish smirk, Harry pushes himself close to you and levels into you. His cock enters you slowly but fully as your lungs forget to breathe. Realizing this, you breathe before Harry can scold you about it. His dick was nearly all in because you could feel the weight of his thighs hovering over you deliciously along with the rest of his tattooed body.
When Harry hears and sees you take a deep breath, he pulls out just to push back in again. You elicit a shaky moan as Harry groans gravelly near your chest.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Harry moans louder into the air as his thrusts become harder, more direct. With just those few thrusts, he already knows exactly where your weakness is and makes it his life goal to hit it every single time.
Harry’s hips move rapidly, pinning your body to the bed as you wiggle underneath him. His muscles are contracting against the pressure of each insane plunge into you while your insides are being reassorted. His size makes it difficult to move, difficult to breathe, yet you’re loving it immensely.
Staring at his arms, you don’t even think about grabbing one of his arms that’s holding him up and laying it on your neck. One of Harry’s furrowed eyebrows lifts up in surprise before that familiar smirk is plastered right back onto his smug face.
“Fuckin’ filthy. I knew you were. What else are y’hiding from me?” Harry’s hand wraps around your neck just as you silently asked. As his fingers block your air flow just enough to make you a little fuzzy, your cunt clenched around his cock. Besides your moans and groans and whimpers, the sound of skin to skin is bouncing across the bedroom like your own personal song. Your anthem. When he releases, the blood flow returns, but he keeps his hand there. “C’mon, Y/N, tell me. What other kinks do you have?”
“I know y’like it rough. Don’t like it when Daddy goes too easy on ya. Do you like to be spanked too? Hmm? Slapped and bitten? Like to have marks all over you so everyone can see?” His brutal thrusts never stop, not even when his breath becomes a little lost. He’s slamming into you like he’s trying to make a dent in your organs, and quite frankly, he just might if he keeps going at the rate he is. But you don’t seem to care too much at the moment. “Do you like people watching? Is that why you post videos of our pretty, little cunt all over the internet? So people can watch you?”
“I don’t hear you,” his voice, raspy and sexy, whispered in a low-threat type of way as his hand rubs over the pulse of your neck temptingly again.
“I g-guess I do like people watching me…” Your voice was breathless as your mind became foggy. Harry did have a way of doing that to you, especially with his hand on your now strained neck. “L-Like when you watch me.”
“‘Course you do. That’s ‘cause you’re dirty. Just like me.” If it was possible, he rocks into you more barbarically until your legs are shaking. You can feel the muscles in your thighs start to spasm, urging to close as you chase your inevitable high.
“Daddy, God, you’re so big. So, so big,” You whined helplessly into the sex-filled air. Your hairs were scratching, tugging, pulling, clawing at everything at the same time, trying to manage all the intense pleasure that was coursing through your body. It was almost too much to handle. Harry seemed to know how to push your limits without killing you, and you’ve craved that feeling for so long. “L-Love your cock. Oh my God!”
“Poor baby. I’ve gotten you all cock drunk; you can’t think of anything else besides m’cock. ‘S that good, huh?” A choppy chuckle elicits from his mouth and wavers over to your ear. Your chest was pressing into his as your core clutched with the sense of near-orgasm. “Gonna come soon, baby?”
“Yes, yes, yes…” You were a mumbled, grumbled mess. You couldn’t think straight, couldn’t talk straight. Harry was impairing all of your abilities with his dirty talk and his magical dick.
No, seriously. Was it like a thick magic wand or something?
Harry squeezes on your neck a couple times, lightly, just to push you right over the edge. Harry seemed to be a quick learner when it came to your body because you were instantly coming then. As Harry felt you orgasm for the second time tonight, he finally let go of his own. When you were coming around his tongue at the beginning of this all, he was having a hard time trying to not come in his own pants. He may have been stupid last night and selfish earlier, but he wasn’t going to do it again. He was going to make up for being a selfish prick and show you how he actually treats a woman. Because you deserve to be treated with nothing less than the best.
After you’re both settled, Harry regretfully slips out of you. Clearly, you felt the same way because you whined as he removed himself. After being inside of you and passing through the gates of heaven, why would Harry want to leave? But even though Harry wants to be as close to you as possible by simply cockwarming all day, he doesn’t want to rush this. It’s new, even if you guys have been friends for some time.
Plucking off the condom and knotting it, Harry waltzes towards his bathroom to grab a towel to clean you up. The soft smile on your face when he returns highlights how grateful you are for his aftercare as he gently wipes up the mess both of you helped create.
“How do you feel?” Harry genuinely asks before placing the towel at the foot of his bed. He briskly moves to his dresser to pick out a new pair of boxers.
“I’m sorry if this offends you, but you have a great ass,” You bluntly state, completely avoiding his question. “But I’m okay.”
Harry laughs as he slips on the clothing. “Just okay? No pain?”
“Yeah. If okay translates to “my vagina is broken for every man ever and both my legs are going to hate me tomorrow”,” You smile innocently as Harry grabs two shirts. He chucks one at you, smiling goofily. It hits you in the face with a laugh before you slip it over your head.
“Good.”
“Good? I might have to take a week off work to heal from the damages.”
“Guess you’ll just have to stay in my bed.”
You roll your eyes before pushing yourself off his bed, contradicting his statement.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to my real boyfriend’s house,” You roll your eyes again facetiously and leave his room, rounding the same corner that he did before yelling, “Bathroom!”
When you return, you plop yourself on Harry’s bed like it was normal. It was comfortable. It felt right. It wasn’t awkward, it wasn’t forced. That was the good thing about two friends getting together. After sex, or work, or school, or just a bad day, or even a good day, they could always just talk. As you sat on Harry’s bed, it was easy to joke and make conversation while still feeling that subtle spark of electricity in between you two. That spark was the difference between platonic and romantic.
“We should watch a movie,” You suggested.
“Where should we look? PornHub?” His dry humor made you laugh as you cozied up in his bed. He didn’t hesitate to pull you close and you liked that. Maybe a little too much for your own good. Your heart was thumping in a way that was melting away the frozen walls around it. It made you happy that something in your life finally seemed to be working out.
“Maybe start with Netflix,” You laid your head on his shoulder as the ironic logo appeared on his TV. “I, um.”
“What?” Harry peeked down at you.
“I think I like this a lot,” Harry smiles at you. He could tell from the beginning that it was hard for you to say things like that to him. That’s why it made him feel like such an asshole for storming out the other night. You needed time to process everything he had just told you, but he was too nervous for your rejection, so he left. Even though he’s six years older than you and may seem more mature, everyone makes stupid and selfish mistakes.
“Well, I hope so, Honey, ‘cause I do too,” Even those simple words have the ability to warm and satisfy your scared, little heart.
“But I’m still not taking your money.”
–
i hope you all liked these two :))
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Early morning cuddling pt.2
[Fluff, wholesome, nb!reader]
[Halsin, Astarion, Shadowheart, Gale]
Part One
Halsin
You'd think that you married a fairytale princess by the amount of small animals you wake up each morning to, cuddling by your side and nuzzling against Halsin's warmth.
Not that he seems to mind. If anything, he seems the happiest sharing his bed with all those willing. His strong arm keeps a hold over you during the night, keeping you close and secure to his chest while he easily falls into a state of meditation. He prefers keeping the window open and listening to the wind outside, swaying of leaves and chipping of bird in the morning.
You did wonder what exactly does he think about during his meditation, and he confessed he replays his favourite memories. Reminding himself of what's worth fighting for in this life.
His palm cupping your face so gently, rough from centuries of tending to plants and magic practice. You can smell the earth embedded in his skin.
Who is worth fighting for.
If you're the type to sleep in during the morning, he happily indulges you as you cuddle closer to him. Resting your head on the rise and fall of his chest.
Letting the drumming of his heartbeat lull you into the land of dreams, just for a short while, maybe five minutes more.
feeling his hand draw circles on your back soothingly. You catch a glimpse of a whispered prayer to the father of nature, Halsin asking him to protect you, keep your soul and heart pure, keep you by his side for as long as this cycle of life allows.
♡
Astarion
You only realise the worth of love after having experienced solitude.
Astarion came to realise how much it meant to have someone just hold you in bed, nothing more, a simple body laying next to him in blissful sleep.
To have someone relish in your company so much, feel safe around him so much that you'd willingly want him to stay by your side while you were the most vulnerable.
It feels strange in his heart, a twing or guilt, even shame.
What did he do to deserve this?
How are you so peaceful next to a vampire? This isn't a camp on some ditch in the backside of Faerun anymore, this is your home that you've willingly and foolishly invited a vampire into.
But maybe he was the biggest fool, for he kept holding you close, fangs tucked away as the smell of blood was the least of his interests at this moment. The living really has a captivating way to steal one's attention.
what dreams do you have?
Each night is like a trance, and before he realises, it ends so suddenly when glowing lines of light just below the thick curtains peak on the floor.
It's morning already, but it felt like a second, he wants to hold you for a lifetime, hug you for a century, kiss you for a decade and whisper your name as if it was his last breath.
He wants so many things, he has so many conflicting emotions. Astarion doesn't want to get attached, you're fleeting, mortal, alive and so loveable.
And he is none of these things, at least not in his views.
But after so much misery, he deserves to steal one good thing from the living, you. It doesn't matter if he has earned it or not, you willingly chose him, loved him.
Embraced him as you woke up, eyes sleepy as nuzzled into him further with no regard to how cold his skin might be in contrast to your warm blanket.
"Darling, you know I'm supposed to be the nocturnal one in this relationship, right? Or did you grow fangs during the night." He voice was laced with an unusual softness, a stranger to his own ears.
You grumbled as he pulled away, chasing after him with adorable slow speed with your hand as you attempted to bring him back.
He's not a sadist.
Okay maybe he is.
But torturing a sleepy you, is becoming one of the highlights of his days. It makes waiting here all night worth it.
♡
Shadowheart
Her eyebrows scrunch into the most adorable glare when she first wakes up. The children of Shar and Selune have never been morning people, present or past.
The tips of her ears slightly twitch as the cold morning reaches her after you manage to steal the blanket in your sleep, wrapping the soft thing around you and leaving her to the mercy of the chilly weather.
Stirred from her sleep, she has a half mind to acknowledge how endearing you look besides her. Peacefully in your slumber and unaware of the crime you've commited, letting your beloved freeze to death in the early morning.
With a sigh, Shadowheart reaches over to untangle tha blanket edge from your iron fist as she squeezes herself inside the makeshift cocoon you've assembled. Instant warmth and comfort greeting her the more she pressed her body onto yours.
Despite how heavenly you feel, sleep has already evaded her grasps. Once she wakes up, she's the type not to fall asleep afterwards. Doesn't help how much of a light sleeper she can be at times.
So she closes her eyes and basks in the moment, fully enjoying the presence. The quietness of the morning where the people haven't woken up yet, the stillness of the air, the slow rhythmic breathing as your chest rises and falls.
She wants to trace your face with her fingers, she wants to admire your eyes, but she doesn't want to wake you up so instead her arms gently hug your body closer to hers.
Safety, comfort and love, things she was taught were a sin to desire, things assumed to make her weaker.
But being weak has never felt so good before, if what she's doing is wrong in the eyes of any god, then she might as well embrace her spot in the hells with your arms as her grave.
♡
Gale
He's changing you slowly, and you're not sure if it's for the better or worse.
What started as you teasing him over his cotton pyjamas with cat paw prints, turned into you wearing a matching one after he bought you one and sweetly coerced you into it.
You look so silly. You can't even deny it as you watch your reflection in the mirror. Watching in real time as your dignity evaporates into thin air while your lover is searching for his reading glasses under the bed by using magic to lift it in the back of the mirror reflection.
Turning around, you feel your lips tugging into a smile as you notice the pair of reading glasses pushed up on his head while Gale is scratching his said head and mumbling about how he just had it close by.
Where could it have possibly went, you wonder.
Calling him over, you watch as he adorable walks over to you with a hopeful look that you've somehow found his glasses like you usually do. As if you were the wizard in this situation who'd make it appear out of thin air rather than the academically acclaimed professor Dekarios in front of you.
Your hand cups his face, and he leans into it without question. Planting a small kiss on his lips, you lower his glasses back onto his face as you pull away. Gale's delighted expression rewards you with a second kiss, calling you his hero.
The two of you fall asleep with a dim light illuminating the room, stray magical star enchantments making the bedroom just bright enough for Gale's midnight reading, or midnight paper grading.
You either learn to tough it out or use that equally silly eyemask that came with your cat pyjamas.
Gale's usually the last one to fall asleep, except on weekends when he's in bed by 9. But since tomorrow, he has to be guiding the future generations of wizards in Faerun, you get his wandering hand playing with your hair or massaging your neck as you drift off to sleep.
By the time morning comes, he's tucked in a blanket by your side. Glasses crooked on his face for he forgot to remove them, again.
Reaching over, you gently take them off of him and set them on the bedside table. Giving his forehead a soft kiss as you check the time and see that you still have a quarter of an hour before he has to get ready to leave for work.
You wrap your arms around him, and he leans into your touch. Even while asleep, his body has complete trust in you, recognising your warmth and letting you cuddle him.
It would've been a very romantic early morning cuddling for the two silly people in embarrassing cat pyjamas, wasn't it for the scratching of paws on the locked door of your bedroom.
The sing-song yelling of Gale's last name following shortly, courtesy to Tara announcing to the whole world how you're a minute late to delivering her morning meal and the carrier pigeons outside are starting to look more and more like grilled chicken wings by the second.
#♡shart#♡Halsin#♡Astarion#♡Gale#♡fluff#bg3 x reader#baldur's gate 3#astarion x reader#gale x reader#shadowheart x reader#halsin x reader#fluff#gale dekarios#astarion bg3#Shadowheart#Halsin
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Got any thots/ideas in wing kink for Luci, Simeon, or anyone with wings?
a/n: there's a few different types of wings among the cast, but I think they're all unique and worth talking about!
wing headcanons
featuring: lucifer, mammon, asmodeus, beelzebub, diavolo, simeon, raphael (+ michael and karasu)
0.7k words | nsfw | suggestive
cw: wing kink implied. sexual situations and predator/prey kink mentioned. the predator/prey kink section is after the divider if you prefer not to read that part.
One of the first signs of trust is the casual affection he shows you when his wings are revealed. He might not always reach for your hand in public, especially if he's a bit more reserved by nature. However, what you do feel is the soft sensation of his wing brushing against your side when you walk beside him. He doesn't even mean to do it at first. It's like his wing naturally extends itself to curl around your back or glide against your arm. It's an unconscious gesture motivated by his feelings for you.
He might ask you to help with his wing care next. If he has wings made of feathers, he sits patiently while you preen them. You're especially careful when you straighten the feathers that look stuck out of place. Your hands are coated with a special oil that keeps his wings soft and protected from harsh wind and cool rain. It's a ritual for both of you now, one that often leads to grateful kisses and quickly descends into passionate lovemaking. Preening his wings was something he didn't enjoy doing by himself, or he reluctantly asked others to help him. Now that he has you, he craves the intimacy of it.
Leathery wings don't require the same level of care, but your lover is still grateful when you try to make him feel pampered and cared for. Sometimes stroking the edge of his wings feels ticklish. Sometimes it sends little bolts of desire shooting through his body straight to his cock. You never know whether he's going to laugh and squirm away from your hands, or if he's going to spin around and pin you underneath him.
Beelzebub's wings are thin and extremely sensitive, and he doesn't like it when they're touched. You are a rare exception. He trusts that you won't hurt the delicate wings that sit against his back. It feels nice when you gently run your fingers along the very edges. He rewards your gentleness and understanding with hungry kisses and greedy hands that rid you of all your annoying clothes.
As the crown prince, Diavolo's wings are particularly impressive and adorned with precious gold ornaments. He secretly likes it when you tease him about keeping the gilded gold pieces clean while you polish them to a glimmering shine. For special occasions, he'll even change them to a different metal that suits your preferences better—he wants to look his best for you. Don't be surprised when he offers you gifts of jewelry made with the same precious metals and jewels that match his own. He would love to see you wear them—and only them—the next time he invites you to spend the night.
Most of the time, fucking someone in his true form can be clumsy or awkward. He doesn't just let anyone touch their wings so intimately either. When you're intimate, he might purposefully reveal his wings. His wings wrap around your body and draw you close while he shields you from the world, protecting you when you're naked and vulnerable. (It also hides you from unworthy eyes that don't deserve to see you that way.) Sometimes his wings randomly appear in the height of passion, unfurling at his back when pleasure drives away all thought and reason except the singular desire to touch you. When his mind isn't clouded with lust, he looks a bit bashful that he lost control like that to begin with—it only happens when he's with you.
Another possibility is a little bit of predator/prey roleplay. Have you ever wondered what it would feel like to be hunted? Your winged lover is more than happy to indulge in this kink should you ask. The forests of the Devildom (or the human world) are perfect for this. He leads you there and urges you towards the tree line in front of you. He'll even give you a head start.
(You're going to need it.)
It begins when you finally run into the darkened woods with only glimpses of moonlight to illuminate your path. The smallest sounds are impossibly loud, echoing off the trees around you: a snapping twig, the crunch of fallen leaves under your feet, your own ragged, panted breaths. Sometimes you see movement from the corner of your eye and when you turn around, there's nothing there. What you do notice is the tree branch high above you shaking slightly, as if someone was just there and then launched himself back into the sky.
(He's toying with you.)
Adrenaline gives you one last burst of energy that propels your feet forward, and you keep running despite the burning in your lungs. The blood in your veins is laced with lust and fear in equal measure. It's not long before you finally hear it: the sound of wings slicing through the air and growing louder as he draws near. Do you hear the soft swish of feathers? The taut snap of leathery wings billowing against the wind? Or perhaps it's the bzzzt of wings fluttering rapidly at his back that quickens your pulse? Suddenly, his familiar silhouette looms above you and blocks the moon from view. You're pinned against his chest before you realize what's happening, and his arms (and sometimes wings) curl around your body. Greedy hands start to pull at your clothes as he crushes his lips against yours. The game is over, and you're finally his to claim.
read more: obey me masterlist
#obey me lucifer#lucifer x reader#obey me mammon#mammon x reader#obey me asmodeus#asmodeus x reader#obey me beelzebub#beelzebub x reader#obey me diavolo#diavolo x reader#obey me simeon#simeon x reader#obey me raphael#raphael x reader#obey me michael#michael x reader#my oc: karasu#obey me smut#obey me headcanons#obey me x reader#oc x reader#x reader#gn!reader
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Hi, I hope you are doing well! Can I request headcanons on how Crocodile, Buggy, Mihawk and Doflamingo would propose to their s/o or how they would react if their s/o was the one to propose to them? (Which ever you feel like is fine! :))
Have a great day!
One Piece War Lords: Proposing to their S/O
This was so adorable thank you for requesting the War Lords!! I’ll have to write a part 2. Buggy was honestly my favorite for a bit… 👉🏻👈🏻 but these are gonna be so HELLA friggin cheesy. I’m a hopeless romantic.. so please… COURT ME LIKE WE’RE IN PRIDE AND PREJUDICE.
Buggy
• He’s so nervous, his hands are clammy, even on the inside of his gloves sweat is lining along the fabric of them. He’s talked it over to himself multiple times, rationalizing the best and worst case scenario.
• He can’t help but melt when he sees you with the promise ring he gifted. He sweats bullets when you tease him about getting married… at dinner he nearly choked, and poor Mr.3 nearly had a heart attack just trying to dislodge the food that got caught in his throat. But he felt like that a majority of the times you discussed it. Like something was lodged in his throat and cutting off his air.
• So when you’re watching the crew bring a haul back on the ship, hands on your hips in a relaxed stance, you barely notice when he slips a ring on your finger, and he discreetly prays you don’t say anything about it until you screech and throw your arms around him, his body probably splits in 2 out of shock- this poor man -
• “ How does it feel knowing you’re going to be married to the future pirate king ?! Flashy ?! As it should feel?! “ Then the second you romanticize over the idea he practically hemorrhages 🥲
Mihawk
• The most poetic. God - he probably leaves you little poems every where, and they’re all based on you <3
• Your dates are so adorable. Like picnics, or going on row boats. It’s so quiet on the water, so you don’t notice when he slips down on one knee, clasping your hands in his while presenting a ring.
• You nearly flip the boat when you finally comprehend what’s happening but luckily your better half is much more calm and collected.. he was prepared for this reaction.. atleast he thinks he was -
• He kisses your knuckles, then overlaps your hands with his and holds them to his heart
• “ It seems as though the love saga of my poems will continue until death do us part…“
Crocodile
• Posessive..
• He truly is materialistic and is telling the truth. You genuinely will get what you want. But he can see it in your eyes that you’re not after his money, or his valuables or even his status. He can see the way you adoringly look up to him when he talks. And he’s not used to such an innocent form of love you offer.
• He feels that you must be protected, for what you make him feel is vulnerability. Which scares him. Because no one has ever made him feel that way before. So when the time is right, most likely on a starry night when you’re on a walk he’ll stop, just long enough to kneel and pull out the box, just long enough for you to realize what he’s doing. And with that, he confesses his love
• “ With this ring, you are mine.. whatever you want you can have. You will always be treated with my respect and my love, nothing will ever be enough to satiate how I feel for you. No amount of gold compares to that ring on your finger, for it holds the greatest power in all the world.. my promise to you. “
Doflamingo
• Like crocodile he’s possessive.. but with a sweet?? Spin ?? To it ???
• The moment he slips the ring on your finger he brings your hand to his lips for a sweet kiss, giving you that bone chilling smile while keeping his lips pressed to your skin.
• He doesn’t make a big, fancy show out of it. Because he knows that you don’t need everyone to know. It’s obvious that you’re his
• You listen when he talks. You’re never put off by his nightmares or bad moods. You urge him to talk about his brother and family. You talk about starting a new one… as a second chance.
• “ A second chance for the Heavenly Demon.. “ he thinks to himself, lost in thought. You weren’t scared to say that he was flawed, but it didn’t matter, because you could work on it together
• “ As long as you are mine, you will be taken care of and no one, I mean no one, will ever mistreat you ever again, lest they want my wrath… “ And he means it. He means every word of it. He would wage wars in your name, bring cities to the ground, and split the ocean in two if he could, unlike crocodile, who is alittle more materialistic with his promises. <3
#one piece#one piece writing#crocodile#op crocodile#sir crocodile#crocodile x reader#crocodile x you#one piece mihawk#dracule mihawk#hawkeye mihawk#mihawk x reader#buggy the clown#captain buggy#buggy x reader#buggy one piece#op buggy#doflamingo one piece#doffy#doffy one piece#doflamingo x reader#op doflamingo#donquixote doflamingo
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Only Human masterlist
Based on @bluegiragi ‘s Monster AU designs.
Pairing: Monster 141 + König & Horangi x reader
Summary: God - Laswell - blessed you with a team of strong, capable monsters.
Cw: canon-typical violence, hate, xenophobia, mention of racism, blood and violence, injury, fighting, protective 141, trauma, anxiety, bodies, death, cannibalism, wounds, eventual smut, unprotected smut, cream pie, knotting, possessive behaviour, simping, more will be added
Series:
Part 1 | f
Part 2 | f,r
Part 3 | f,r
Part 4 | f,r
Extra:
What if… Hunter was Venom? | f,r
What if… Hunter was Venom? Pt2 | a,f,r
Featherlight* | f,r
End of the Line | a,r
Full Moon* | r,f
Dragon Heart* | f,r
Venom!reader headcanon | r
Drabbles:
Hostage Situation | r
Webs | r
Change | r
Sweet Blood | r,f
Pleasantries | r
Pleasantries: extra | r
Rut* | r,f
Pebbles | r,f
Hurt | r,f,
Rabid | r,f
Spell | r,f
Lesson | r,f
Vestige | r,a
Sneeze | r,f
Vulnerabilities | r,f
K9 Friend | r,f
Rough Shift | r,f
Death | r,a,f
Phoenix!reader AU:
Ashes | r,f
Wendigo!reader AU:
Stag | r,f
Scourge Beast!reader AU:
Plague | r
Chinese Dragon!reader AU:
Yinglong | r
Storm | r,f
Titan!reader:
Titan | r
Bear hybrid!reader:
Hibernation | r,f
#x reader#cod mw2#ghost mw2#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#cod mw2 x reader#simon riley x reader#monster 141 au#monster fucker#ghost cod#ghost#simon x reader#ghost simon riley#simon riley#cod price#price mw2#captain john price#john price#captain price#john price x reader#captain price x reader#price x reader#mw2 gaz#gaz call of duty#gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick#gaz mw2#gaz cod#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle garrick x reader
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cw: angst, emotional manipulation, dry humping until completion
being the poor little hostage könig is in charge of looking after… he feels annoyed and helpless, listening to you sob for hours. he’s sympathetic; he can see how cohabitating with someone of his caliber might be distressing after what you’ve gone through. even after years of experience he still isn’t quite sure how to deal with this part of his job— the emotion and human interaction part. he avoids making direct eye contact with you and speaks to you as little as possible, figuring you just need space to process. little does he know that everything he does, down to the way his eyes shift uncomfortably in his hood, makes you feel even worse, self conscious and isolated, just like you’d felt when you were kidnapped. you longed to be close to the man that saved you from the situation you thought you wouldn’t make it out alive from, and the rejection you felt from him was only making the crave worse. you’d do anything to get his attention…
he returns back to your guys’ temporary hideaway to find you in the same spot he left you, curled up in the corner of the bed. his heart hurts at the image you make. he stands awkwardly in the middle of the room holding a paper bag. "i brought food and… more tissues."
you break down at the sound of his voice, the first voice that hasn’t evoked a deep sense of dread and fear into you in weeks. you can’t see through the fog of tears in your eyes, but you hear the sound of heavy footsteps inching toward you, the crinkling of the bag being set on the creaky wooden table. a large, tentative hand is placed on your shoulder, and you can’t help but lean into the touch you’ve been craving.
“don’t… don’t leave again.” you plead brokenly.
“okay…” könig sounds startled. “what do i…?”
“can you just sit with me? hold me?”
he hasn’t held anyone the way he holds you since before he can remember. it’s hesitant and stiff at first, you leaning up against his broad chest, his strong arms wrapped gingerly around you. he softens up the longer you sit there, your face buried in his neck as your crying turns into sniffling, and eventually his warm embrace feels indistinguishable from that of someone you’ve known forever— a lover, even. he just makes you feel so safe and protected. it’s not your fault that your confused, touch-starved brain reads the situation as something that it’s not.
könig’s supposed to be the clear headed one. he should stop you when you start crawling further on top of him, he shouldn’t let you sit yourself in his lap. it’s inappropriate and he knows it, only a sick man would take advantage of a young girl in such a vulnerable state. but it’s not like he isn’t also in dire need of physical affection. if he just sits back and lets you take what you need from him to be comfortable, he isn’t doing anything wrong. right?
“i’ve been so scared, so lonely.” you reason with him as your hands feel around his broad biceps through his tactical gear. the more you discover about him, the more your admiration for him grows. your breathing has turned heavy, the warmth of könig’s body paired with the feeling of having a man so close to you for reasons that aren’t to hurt you, has your cunt aching between your thighs. you’re so screwed up. “i never thanked you for saving me.”
“it’s my job.” you can hear that he’s effected too, his accent thick and deep and strained underneath his mask. you bite your lip at the sound, your little hips growing a mind of their own as they start to rut against his crotch. the sensation of your sweet heat rubbing snugly against his is enough to lower any inhibitions könig has left. fuck, he hasn’t felt anything like it in so long. “we shouldn’t–”
“it’s your job to take care of me.” hot tears start to well up in your eyes at the mere thought of stopping. you lock your arms together behind könig’s head, clamping your thighs tighter around him so he has no choice but to let you continue. “please, i need this, sir. i know you want it too.”
he could easily fight you back if he wanted to. he’s much bigger, much stronger… but he doesn’t. his hands find your hips, and you make eye contact for the first time since he rescued you, only now his eyelids are heavy with desire. he’s just as desperate as you. you got what you wanted, his full attention on you. he uses his strength to guide your movements until what youre doing can’t be described as anything else but riding his clothed erection, the friction against your sensitive clit all too much for you too quickly.
you grind against him to the point of overstimulation, too fucked-out to decide wether you want to pull him closer or push him away. he ends up deciding for you, though, hugging you until you’re pressed chest to chest, succumbing to desire. you can feel the way his bigger body dwarfs yours as you use each other to get off. tears stain your soft, flushed cheeks as you cum, pushed over the edge by the sounds of his low pants and grunts, his pulsing cock underneath you. warm with the knowledge that you made him feel as good as you. you thanked him properly.
“i’m here, engelchen. ride it out.”
the feeling of you convulsing on his dick is enough to milk könig’s orgasm out of him soon after, dirtying his pants with hot, thick cum. he strokes your head and whispers soothing words in your ear, and it’s not until you’re fast asleep on his lap that the gravity of what he’d done settles in, shame washing over him in waves…
#konig cod#smut#x reader#konig x y/n#konig modern warfare#konig call of duty#konig mw2#konig smut#konig x you#konig headcanons#konig x reader#könig smut#könig x reader#könig cod#könig x you#könig x y/n#bella writes⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚
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I just want to touch zhonglis horns or tail. Like they are so pretty
a/n: me too anon, me too ><
I love the image of a relaxed Zhongli who, after much coaxing from your part, allows a small pair of horns to adorn the top of his head. Well, it’s less that it’s small and more so that he’s big enough that almost anything that isn’t comically large looks small near him.
They look similar to Azhdaha’s horns in colour, earthy tones that make them look like Geo formations sitting atop their heads. However, Zhongli’s look just a tad bit neater, as if a gifted craftsman had taken the time to carve and polish them — which, may be possible considering how particular the former archon has become in regards to his appearance ever since your arrival.
His horns blend in their base with his hair, a dark brown colour that fades into a colour that looks akin to polished Cor Lapis. They sit comfortably atop his hair, curling upwards until the very tip where they finally look down. Long, thick vein-like carvings decorate them, their pattern looking much like the ones found in his pillars.
Whenever he uses his Geo element, which he rarely does whenever he allows himself to show his more draconian features, said carvings are filled up with elemental energy that glows a golden colour, instances in which they look much like rivers of gold flowing through him.
They’d probably be cold, at least whenever he’s not using any elemental energy, in which case they seemingly hum a soft warmth. But it never burns hot or freezingly cold, on the instances where you glide the pad of your finger through the, surprisingly, smooth surface it feels pleasant. Like an ointment that leaves your skin tingling, they seemingly buzz with energy native to Teyvat.
I also like to think that, when allowing more… draconic features of his to shine, Zhongli’s arms look similar to his Rex Lapis days. Back then, his arms were deep in colour with golden markings glowing - much like his horns, I’d think. Unlike before, the colour doesn’t seep into his neck, instead neatly ending near his shoulders and fading back into his human form’s flesh. But it’s just as striking, they almost look like gloves, but when you touch them they still feel like skin — the golden etchings in them, however, would probably feel more calloused, like scar tissue. In these instances, his arms run cold, much like stone. It’s only near the golden tissue that a semblance of warmth is found. During particularly hot summer days, they work wonders in keeping the heat away.
A tail… for some reason, I feel like he’d be extremely hesitant in showing it off. Only during private hours with you, where he’ll be absolutely certain no one other than yourself will see, will he show you. When he does, you notice how slim it is — only growing in size by the end, where it resembles a cloud. It’s essentially the same tail he possesses as Morax, where the end is filled with explosive colours that make it look like pure Geo energy materialising into the air.
Like any dragon, his tail is made out of scales - however his are surprisingly smooth, they blend into each other creating the illusion of there being no scales at all. They’re still sturdy, however, you’re pretty sure no weapon in existence could cut through them. His tail’s end… I think it’d be fur, long hairs combed into their position mimicking the clouds above Liyue Harbor during sunsets, unlike the rest of his body, I think it’d be surprisingly soft and, forgive my blasphemy, fluffy.
In these instances where he allows himself to be more vulnerable, showing bits and pieces of his most prominent and powerful forms, he grows to love your affection.
He loves it just as much when you comb his long, silken hair as when you detangle his tail. The feeling of your nails tracing the hundreds of scales that protect his tail make a shiver run down his spine, one that pleasures him as much as takes him by surprise every time.
Zhongli is rather secretive about his previous roles in life, which means that he has to trust you quite a lot to willingly expose traits of his that once belonged to the lives he once lived, which is why he’s so keen on keeping these attributes of his known only to the two of you.
If he so much as senses anybody coming near the room, his horns and tail quickly disappear - much to your disappointment. If anybody, much less someone like Venti, where to catch even so much as a glimpse of his more draconian features, you might need to physically restrain him lest he send them home with multiple injuries. It comes to a point where he mostly only cares about keeping a secret only between you and himself, rather than keeping his identity secret.
It’s why he treasures the soft moments where you lay in bed together, his head resting against your chest as you softly rub his horns with gentle motions. His ears are sharp, the beating of your heart is loud and clear to Zhongli, but it’s not bothersome at all — instead, it’s soothing to him, like the sound of soft rain against a window would be to some or waves softly crashing down into the sand. You’re too sleepy to notice, the warmth radiating from the man on top of you was simply too comfortable for you to resist the temptation of slumber, the soft purring that rumbled from his chest.
That was yet another feature of his you’d soon familiarise yourself with though, he still wanted to keep a few cards up his sleeve in case he felt you were drifting too far away from his embrace.
#๋࣭ ancient scrolls#๋࣭. hidden devotee#yandere genshin impact#yandere genshin#genshin impact x reader#yandere zhongli#zhongli x reader#Genshin zhongli x reader#soft yandere zhongli#soft sagau#<- mostly written with the au in mind it#*ig#soft zhongli#Genshin x reader#sub zhongli#zhongli genshin impact
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