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popamolly · 2 months

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‘ DANCE WITH THE DEVIL ’ ALASTOR

summary. a bit heartbroken by last night’s events, you tried to move forward and entertain more suitors, a string still pulling on your heart since it was hard to forget alastor.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

warnings. human!alastor x fem!reader, eventual smut, mature themes, age gap! youre 20 while alastor is in his early 30s, alastor is a serial killer, alastor stalks you, dark romance, angst, gore, death, blood kink, not a happy ending

author’s note. thank you for all the love this story is getting!

The next morning arrived with the sunlight streaming through the window and painting the room in a soft warm glow. You stirred awake from a restless sleep, the events of the previous night hung heavy in the air but before you could get lost in your thoughts a gentle knock on the door interrupted your thoughts, and your mother entered with a tray of your favorite breakfast.

"Good morning," she greeted sharply, setting the tray on the bedside table.

The atmosphere in the room felt charged with tension and you felt as though if you made a sudden move you might die from the suffocation of it all. Your mother's stern expression hinted at the lingering disapproval from the night before. As she sat down, her eyes bore into yours, her words measured and direct.

"I hope you've had a chance to reflect on your behavior last night. Venturing into such places is unbecoming of a lady, especially a Duvalier, I will not have you tarnishing your father's name." she chided, her tone laced with disapproval.

Your attempts to explain were met with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Enough. We won't dwell on the mistakes of yesterday. However, I must insist that you put this Alastor nonsense out of your mind."

The mention of Alastor brought a rush of emotions that you had to swallow down. Now your mother’s instructions became more of a command rather than a suggestion. Though when have her words ever been a suggestion.

"Forget about him, my dear. You need to focus on the suitors who are genuinely interested in you. Now, get dressed. We have guests arriving and you must present yourself with grace and composure," she instructed sharply.

The weight of your mother's insistence felt like shackles but you complied, suppressing your emotions. As you prepared for the day, the memories of the jazz club and Alastor were pushed to the back of your mind, replaced by the formalities and expectations you were to upheld.

The morning, which had begun with the soft glow of sunlight, now unfolded in a harsh contrast. As you descended the grand staircase to meet the suitors, a silent determination set in.

The night before had been replaced by the reality of the courting season, and in this world of scripted dances and polished conversations, the echoes of the jazz club was nothing but a forbidden memory.

"And your favorite hobby?" The man next to you asked as you both walked along the side of the riverbank with your mother in tow behind you as a chaperone.

"Cooking, sewing, cleaning..." You listed everything your mother practiced you to say since you were sixteen with a bored expression, "It's hard to choose really. Especially when my new hobby would be doing all those things and taking care of man who can't take care of himself."

The gentleman's expression shifted from mild curiosity to genuine offense as your response veered off the expected path for traditional domestic roles. He struggled to conceal his surprise, his facial features contorting into disbelief.

"Taking care of a man who can't take care of himself?" he repeated, his tone carrying a touch of annoyance. "Well, I must say, I wasn't expecting such... candidness. A woman's role is to support and enhance her husband's life, not to suggest he's incapable."

Your mother, who had been following as a discreet chaperone, discreetly cleared her throat, offering a subtle reminder of the expected decorum during such conversations. The gentleman, however, appeared unamused by your deviation from the conventional script.

"I believe in partnership and mutual support," you continued, maintaining your composure despite the tension in the air. "In my view, a successful marriage is built on shared responsibilities and understanding, don't you think so? Or is your brain too small minded?"

The gentleman's offense transformed into outright displeasure, and his face reddened with anger. He took a step back, as if distancing himself from the perceived audacity of your words.

"I never expected such impertinence," he huffed, his voice dripping with disdain before turning to your mother. "If this is the kind of woman your daughter has become, madam, perhaps a lesson in decorum is in order."

Your mother, taken aback by the abrupt turn of events, attempted to diffuse the tension. "I assure you, she is a capable and respectful young woman."

The gentleman scoffed, "Respectful? A woman's place is to support her husband, not challenge societal norms. If you want to see your daughter married perhaps you should tape her mouth first."

With those final words, he turned on his heel, storming off along the riverbank, leaving an air of tension in his wake. Your mother, left momentarily speechless, could only watch as he disappeared from view.

Your mother, though caught off guard by the gentleman's departure, turned her attention towards you with a stern expression, the air thick with disapproval.

"I cannot believe you would speak so boldly, especially to such a promising young man. Do you even know who his father is?" she scolded, her voice low. "You'd be lucky if he doesn't spread a rumor about you and your outspoken views, who will marry you then?"

You bit your lip, a mix of frustration and defiance bubbling within you. The stifling expectations of the season seemed to constrict, and the encounter had exposed the deep-seated clash between tradition and your desire for an equal partnership.

"But Mother, I only spoke the truth. I want a marriage built on partnership," you argued, your voice carrying a hint of rebellion, "I want love."

Your mother's gaze remained unwavering, and she sighed in exasperation. "Love? My dearest child, it was one night of sweet nothings you must forget that man. You must understand that your words have consequences, and you must learn to navigate these social situations with more finesse."

The scolding continued, a lecture on the importance of being a mere trophy without thoughts. As the words from your mother lingered, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of resentment. The courting season proved to be more of a challenge than you had anticipated.

The journey back home was quiet, the echoes of the encounters with potential suitors lingering in the air. Your grand estate, once a symbol of opulence and refinement, now felt like a gilded cage . A cage that you unfortunately had to be stuck in for the rest of your life.

As you and your mother entered the stately home, servants helped you take your coats off at the door. Tonight had only proved that the majority of suitors were mostly ignorant and entitled. Men who expected the traditional gender roles only stifled your desire for a more equal partnership.

You follow your mother into drawing-room where tea awaited, sitting down on one of the elegant couches after pouring yourself a cup. You mentally prepared yourself as your mother sat across from you, dropping two sugar cubes into her own teacup with a discerning gaze, ready address the events of the afternoon.

"Do you understand that I want only the best for you? It is hard but you must find content with your situation, as I did. The suitors today were from respected families, and their opinions carry weight in our social circles," she advised, her tone a mix of caution and motherly concern, "Don't be foolish to throw this all way because you want a fairytale marriage."

You sighed, feeling her slowly start to crush your spirit. "Mother, I cannot fake enthusiasm for these men. I want a marriage based on love and mutual respect, is that so bad?"

Your mother's expression hardened, a sign of her struggle between the desire for your happiness and keeping your father's legacy alive. "The world we live in demands certain sacrifices for the sake of reputation."

The conversation continued, a delicate dance between generations, aspirations, and tradition. The walls of the grand estate seemed to close in, threatening suffocate every ounce of a dream you had left.

"We will talk more about this later, now go and freshen up for dinner." Your mother turns from you to get the daily mail that sat onto a silver plater one of our servants held. Her thoughts now occupied with whatever was in those letters addressed to her.

The mention of dinner provided you temporary relief, a chance to gather your thoughts in the privacy of your room.

As you reached the upper landing and walked down the corridor towards your room, a familiar sense of fatigue settled in. The idea of facing another evening filled with polite conversation and forced smiles only wished to drain you more than you already were. With a sigh, you opened the door to your room, hoping to somehow muster enough strength to make through dinner with your mother.

Upon entering, the room was bathed in the soft glow of the evening sun. The space offered little comfort compared to the storm brewing within your mind. You moved towards the patio doors, intending to draw the heavy curtains and shut out the world for a brief moment.

However, as you approached the doors, a gasp caught in your throat. There, at the patio, stood Alastor, his tan skin bathed in the warm hues of the setting sun. He held a bouquet of flowers in hand, with that grin that would be bone-chilling if you were in another world.

Had he climbed up to your patio? Your heart skipped a beat, startled by his unexpected presence. Alastor turned, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that mirrored the electrifying encounter at the jazz club.

"Forgive the intrusion," Alastor spoke, a charming smile playing on his lips. "I couldn't resist the opportunity to see you again, (Y/N).”

You found yourself at a loss for words, the sight of him standing there, outside your room, both thrilling and a little scary. The flowers he held seemed to highlight the spontaneity of the night that had captured your heart.

As you stood there, Alastor's gaze held a question, an unspoken invitation to step into the realm of the unexpected once more. You couldn’t, you thought, you shouldn’t. The decision lay before you – to embrace the conventional path or to follow the allure of something more unpredictable and genuine.

A surge of conflicting emotions washed over you at the sight of Alastor. The initial surprise and excitement gradually gave way to a simmering anger that had lingered since the day before. Memories of his sudden departure, leaving you alone in the crowd, resurfaced to only fuel the flames of anger.

You composed yourself, maintaining a veneer of poise, as you faced Alastor at the patio doors. "Alastor," you greeted, your tone betraying a subtle undercurrent of tension.

He smiled, seemingly oblivious to the storm brewing beneath the surface. "I hoped to catch you before dinner. These are for you, my dear," he said, extending the bouquet of flowers towards you.

You accepted the flowers with a forced smile, your gaze sharpening as you met his eyes. "How kind of you. But if this is your way of an apology for leaving me the night before then you are not forgiven," you remarked, your words laced with a hint of reproach.

Alastor's expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of remorse crossing his features. "I apologize if my departure caused you any distress. It wasn't my intention."

You couldn't help but feel a surge of frustration at his nonchalant response. "Intentions or not, it was thoughtless. All this is challenging enough without being abandoned in the middle of a crowded club."

Alastor's gaze dropped ever so slightly, "You're right, and I regret not explaining myself that night." The man before you was unable to meet your eyes, "Something came up and I had to tend to it right away, I had hoped to invite you to dinner to properly apologize."

"Dinner?" You looked back at the clock hanging from your wall, knowing that your mother was expecting you in less than an hour to join her, "I can't tonight."

"Tomorrow then?" Alastor persisted, his eyes searching for a glimpse of agreement.

"Tomorrow." you agreed, the magnetic charm that surrounded him softening your resolve. A sense of anticipation lingered, a silent acknowledgment of the romance weaving through the conversation.

As Alastor pressed a tender kiss to your knuckles, a shiver ran down your spine, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. His gesture, reminiscent of the forbidden knight in shining armor that came to save your dress that fateful day.

"I will see you tomorrow," you responded, your words breathless, caught in the enchantment of the moment. The courtyard, bathed in the soft hues of the setting sun, transformed into a canvas for the unfolding romance between you two. Was this foolish yes? But when you are smitten and swooped off your feet by the person who you think could be the one, it didn’t seem so foolish. Everything surrounding Alastor made perfect sense even when nothing about him made sense at all.

"I can't wait to reveal to you my world, my dear," Alastor's voice carried a mysterious undertone, his words dancing on the edge of menacing. Unbeknownst to you, the promise held a duality, a blend of charm and an underlying darkness that eluded your naive perception.

As Alastor departed, leaving you in the fading light of the terrance, the echoes of his words lingered. The anticipation of the mysterious dinner date took root in your heart, overshadowed by the allure of a world yet to be unveiled. Little did you know, that this romantic endeavor concealed layers of foreshadowing pain and death.

TAGLIST: @queenmizuki @sirens-and-moonflowers @poppingaround @happytacojudgepalace @mo-0-o @harmfulb1tch @tiredkiwiii @moody-mod @themoonitselff @darifes @whocaresimnothere @boogiemansbitch

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#hazbin hotel characters #hazbin hotel fiction #smut #𖤐popamolly #𖤐popamollyposts #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader smut #alastor x reader #alastor #alastor the radio demon #radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor

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aphrogeneias · 7 months

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𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 — uniform

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: ex-cheerleader!reader. handjob. penetrative sex. semi-public sex.

It was always the skirts that did it for him.

Not the ponytails, not the sparkly pom poms, not even the acrobatics. It was the small skirts that had his eyes wandering, following long legs and pretty thighs along the hallways of his former high school. His friends used to make fun of him, tell him how stupid he looked pining over the cheerleaders who would never even look his way.

Eddie used to tell them he wasn't pining, he was merely just… looking, for lack of a better word. He wasn't thinking about them, the little skirts in green and yellow swishing around soft looking thighs, when he was alone later, under the shower. Of course not.

Imagine his surprise, then, when he saw you — his favorite customer, wearing a red, white and black cheerleader uniform. You were in the corner of the room, chatting with your local college friends, sipping on a plastic cup. Hair in a high ponytail tied with a neat red bow, as red as the fake blood sprinkled on your body.

He might have choked a little on his beer, but he didn't pay much attention to it, concentrating it all on you. Not until Jeff elbows him on the ribs, scoffing at his friend. "Man, you're gonna catch flies with that mouth hanging open."

"Shut up." Eddie grumbled, looking away from you and back at his friends. "Do you think she saw?"

"You're not exactly subtle, Ed." Gareth points out. The younger boy turned to your group of friends and waves, and as Eddie did the same, he noticed you waving back.

Burying the urge to smother Gareth in his sleep, he managed a rather strained smile, and a three finger wave in your direction. He saw you hide your giggle behind your hand, and all of his worries faded away for a second. It must have been your pretty smile, barely concealed by a delicate hand, or the mixture of glitter and fake blood on your skin, making you glint in the dark. Either way, he decided that he didn't want to look away, not really.

As his friends engaged back in conversation with each other, and your friends remained entertained with whatever was the subject between them, your eyes met yet again. You gave him a discreet nod of your head, pointing to the glass doors that led to the backyard of the house. Eddie nodded back, and waited for you to go first before following you closely.

Eddie had met you when he decided to expand his side business after he graduated. No longer wanting to associate with the high school kids, no matter how well some of them would pay him with their daddy's money, he went for the college students next. Lingering around their parties, taking a stroll through the campus with his ever trusty lunchbox on days off of work.

It was on one of these strolls that he met you — clumsily sitting in front of him at a picnic table that resembled his old selling spot, dropping your bag on the table and asking him for a rolled joint because you were terrible at rolling, and you'd even pay extra if needed.

He decided that, from that moment on, you wouldn't have to roll your own joints ever again.

There was just something about you, something that Eddie couldn't quite put his finger on. Maybe it was how comfortable you made him feel, how easy the conversation flowed between you. How you would always rant about your day or infodump on the latest subject that caught your interest in class, or the last book you were reading. It was like you didn't mind that Eddie was virtually a stranger, you just accepted him in your life with open arms, and he did the same.

You started walking a thin line between merely a business relationship, and an actual friendship. Eddie started never letting you pay, telling you that your company was more than enough reward. After that, you came up with more creative ways to thank him. A mixtape, freshly baked sprinkle cookies, a new bracelet, black nail polish.

He wondered if he asked for a kiss as payment you'd give it to him.

Through the small crowd in the living room to the small back porch, he couldn't help but let his eyes wander over your form from behind. The way your skirt moved side to side when you walked, in perfect sync with your hips. The bag of your legs, the curve of your neck. It made his heart race, and his hands ache to touch.

Finally, you both passed through the doors, — you first, Eddie making sure to slide the door behind him close — breathing in the cool night air. The outside of the house was empty except for the two of you, and the neighbor's cat waltzing around the top of the fence.

"Got the good stuff, Munson?"

You were smiling as you sat down on an old, beat down couch to the left of the porch. He tried not to make it obvious he was staring at the way your thighs spread out as you sat, looking good enough to bite into. Instead, he looked down and fished out the smokes carton from the pocket of his leather jacket, and smirked right back at you.

"For you? Always."

That night, neither of you spoke much as you shared a spliff between the two of you. The silence was not awkward, nor was it uncomfortable. It was just the two of you and the chill October air, and the shitty music that came from the inside of the party.

While he took the last drag, you scooted closer to him, bringing your arm to the back of the couch. "I noticed you looking, you know."

Holding his breath, he asked, "What?"

"At me, silly. I noticed you looking at me the whole night."

Your voice was pure honey, but there was a malice in your eyes Eddie had never seen before. Swallowing hard, he shifted on his seat, incidentally closing the distance between you. "It's just that, uh… You look really pretty tonight. Not that you don't look pretty any other day," he panics, disgusting it with a flare of his hands, "but you look especially beautiful tonight."

"It's the outfit, isn't it? Never would have thought you had a thing for cheerleaders, Eds. Would have told you I used to be one way sooner if I'd known."

"This was yours?" His eyes felt like they were going to pop out of his head.

"Yeah. All the way through high school. It was fun while it lasted."

He hummed, but on the inside, Eddie wanted to scream. "Whoa, sweetheart. Gotta show me your moves one of these days."

"I could show you a few right now."

You got impossibly closer, your face inches from his own. Instead of kissing him like he expected you to do, you took one of his hands and placed it on your waist, not breaking eye contact with him. "You can touch me if you want to, Eddie. It's okay, I want you to."

He sat up straighter, grabbing your waist earnestly now. "Can I kiss you, baby?"

With your nod as confirmation, he did. He kissed you long and deep, stealing the breath away from both of you. He tastes you on his tongue, smoke and cheap vodka lingering there, as you straddled his hips, pretty pleated skirt flaring around your hips.

Hands wandering over layers, mouths wandering over skin. Eddie kissed every spot he could find, from your mouth to your neck, sucking and biting bruises that knew would still be there in the morning. He squeezed your boobs through your tight top, massaging them in his rough hands, making you moan in his mouth. He drank each strangled moan, each sigh, fueling his want for you.

Your hands soon found the buckle of his belt, expertly opening it, and palming him through his boxers. He could almost feel embarrassed over how hard he already was, but he could sense that you were equally as eager, applying pressure on his cock, running your nails through the length of it just to feel him shiver under your ministrations.

You didn't break the kiss as you pulled him out of his underwear, stroking him slowly, pumping his cock with your hand, running your thumb over the head of it, slicking him with his own precum. Eddie bit your bottom lip to stay quiet, making you look at him through hooded eyes. "Feeling good, handsome?"

"Too good. Too fucking good to be true."

You chuckled, low and sexy. "It is true. It's all for you."

As you kept stroking and squeezing him in your hand, moving your thumb from the sensitive underside to the head, and down again, making his hips jerked and thrusted into your grip, he kept kissing you, pouring all of his adoration into it, sucking on your tongue, bruising your lips with his own.

A chill ran down his spine with a particular tug of your hand on his cock. At the feeling of it, Eddie put a hand on your wrist, stopping you. "Angel, I'm not gonna last long if you keep doing this."

"But I wanna make you cum, Eds." You pouted, looking down at him.

"You can make me cum inside of this perfect pussy, how about that?"

"I think I like that more, too."

Without warning, you pulled yourself up, standing in front of him. As if you were putting on a show, you bent down at the waist, and slowly removed your panties from under your skirt, tossing on the couch right next to him, and mounted him again. "You're gonna kill me, aren't you? Was that your plan all along?"

"I don't know. Is it working?"

This time, he grabbed your hips and helped you align yourself above his cock, rubbing his head along your entrance and letting it catch on your clit a couple of times before you sat yourself on him, taking him in slowly, accommodating the stretch inside of you.

It was heaven, right there, under that tiny cheerleader skirt.

"Trust me. It's working really damn well."

You lost yourselves in that moment, moving your hips in sync. Eddie was hypnotized by the way you bounced on him, each slide of your slick, warm pussy went straight through his whole body, making him hold tightly onto you, wrapping his arms around you.

All he could hear was your heavy breathing, your little whimpers better than the music that muffled his own stubborn moans that made their way out of his gaping mouth. He felt you squeeze him with your cunt as you pulled his hair, hips growing more and more reckless with each movement, signaling that you were close.

Eddie started to fuck up into you, making you bounce harder on his lap. He felt the way you lost balance, holding onto his shoulders and shutting your eyes hard.

"It's okay, pretty girl. You can let go. I'm right here with you, you can cum for me." He pleaded, "Please? Cum with me."

You came almost at the same time, squeezing each other's bodies, trying hard not to make too much noise. While you rode out your orgasms, Eddie left kisses all over your shoulder, to your neck, to the side of your face. A last kiss on your cheek, on the side where you were hiding your face on his neck.

"We should get out of here before someone catches us."

Your voice tickled the sensitive skin of his neck, and he ran his hand over your back. You were still joined under your skirt, his cock growing soft inside of you, but still terribly warm. "Your place or mine?"

You raised your face from its hiding place, and pushed a strand of his wild hair behind his ear. "Wherever we don't have to keep quiet like this."

"My place it is."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #kinktober 2023

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electrosair · 7 months

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Jealous headcanons anemo + cryo ver.

english isn’t my first language, sorry for mistakes

characters: heizou + kazuha + scaramouche + venti + xiao + kaeya + wriothesley

word count: 1k

Heizou

how jealous is he from 1 to 10?

4/10 He's not really jealous over you, it's more with people who may get close to you, mostly because of the attitudes they may have towards you. It's not something he likes and he's not going to tolerate it either, but he will always do it in discreet ways.

how possessive is he from 1 to 10?

7/10 Whenever he sees someone start to make moves on you, he will pull subtle acts, as if teasing the person who is looking for a good time with you. He'd never let you know if you haven't noticed, doing things like putting an arm around you or throwing glances when you're not aware of him.

what is he most jealous of?

In cases where you realize it, Heizou would be annoyed if you jokingly and having warned him about what was going on, you jokingly play along with the other person. It's something he would draw the line at and stop doing after he began dating you.

Kazuha

how jealous is he from 1 to 10?

3/10 He is easygoing with everyone, so there are no exceptions with people who are looking for something with you. He wouldn't take it too bad either, he would leave it up to you unless you go to him for help, only then would he jump in.

how possessive is he from 1 to 10?

2/10 He prefers to leave you to your own criteria and freedom, as he himself has decided to do with his life. As long as you spend a certain amount of quality time by his side experiencing new things and places, that's enough for Kazuha.

what is he most jealous of?

It doesn't happen often, but it would be a thorn in his side if you go to places, which you discovered with him during your travels, with other friends or acquaintances of yours. He would like it to be something intimate and meaningful between the two of you.

Scaramouche

how jealous is he from 1 to 10?

10/10 Occasionally he may vent his jealousy on you, because of silly arguments or disagreements that you have, but mostly he would do it with those who are going to flirt with you. In the end he understands that it's not your fault, so gradually he tries to fix that problem.

how possessive is he from 1 to 10?

9/10 Most likely, he already felt this way about you even before you started dating officially. He would have behaviors like asking you to go out with him every day in the hopes that you wouldn't end up noticing someone else.

what is he most jealous of?

If you are outside and someone's attitude towards you really shocks him, he can't help it, an impulse in him would get you out of there immediately without thinking. Scaramouche's not going to tolerate that kind of stare over what he considers his own.

Venti

how jealous is he from 1 to 10?

4/10 Even when something in him goes wrong and he feels jealous, it's as if at the same time he knows that he must give you freedom to act as you want and after all, you wouldn't change him, right?

how possessive is he from 1 to 10?

7/10 He likes to keep you close all day long, write songs and ballads of his beloved without the need to name names or tell the rest who exactly you are. He's not going to do that if it means that others also know who you are and will approach you, whether to ask about the archon or a simple bard.

what is he most jealous of?

One of his greatest fears is to keep losing the people he loves even though he knows that it is inevitable with the passage of time. Venti would not be able to bear that, apart from factors like this, you would be the one to voluntarily leave his side and go with someone else.

Xiao

how jealous is he from 1 to 10?

6/10 I feel that individual acts would make him feel insecure and jealous over you when you're away from his side, so he tries to always keep an eye on you so he knows where you are. That way he could be ready all the time when he needs to do something because of another person flirting with you.

how possessive is he from 1 to 10?

8/10 His way of expressing that you belong to him in some way or another would be with small marks made by his own teeth on your skin, in places where only he can see and no one else. That's why they are there after all, isn't it?

what is he most jealous of?

When you start spending more time and hanging out with other people, specifically a single one that he doesn't even know by sight and you get to complain to him that he's been checking you out more than usual. Xiao likes to think to himself that he's doing it for your safety.

Kaeya

how jealous is he from 1 to 10?

3/10 Even if he occasionally feels upset by people near you, he prefers to trust you enough that he won't try to do anything unless he feels it's too much and you're not doing anything to stop the situation.

how possessive is he from 1 to 10?

5/10 Only when he is aware that someone is making moves on you will he become more possessive. Whether it's to make you feel a little safer if you send him a look of distress, or to scare off whoever you have after you, no one is going to mess with the cavalry captain's partner.

what is he most jealous of?

It's something he enjoys taking you to bars so you can try his favorite drinks and he can see your reactions. But every time he goes away for more than three seconds and someone comes to buy you a drink Kaeya's face changes, he would come back as fast as possible to your side.

Wriothesley

how jealous is he from 1 to 10?

2/10 Just enough to throw a glance, although he would only do something directly to the person who is flirting with you if their actions escalate quickly. In those cases it would be more to defend you than for his own jealousy, he is not afraid to come to blows.

how possessive is he from 1 to 10?

6/10 He would like to show everyone with a minimal amount of interest that the two of you are doing well together and that you are his, whether it's by pressing you against his body or asking you to stay in his office on his busiest days.

what is he most jealous of?

Definitely some people would only approach you to do you favors and earn Wriothesley's or get closer to him in some way. He would try to keep you away from these people whenever he could, keeping you by his side whenever he saw strange behavior.

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growingstories · 8 months

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Pjotr

This is a story by Jamie, living in a suburban area close to London: Next to where I live is a building that houses construction workers from abroad. Most of the guys I see are from Poland living here to work for a construction company run by a Mr. Johnson. I didn’t really think much of it until Pjotr became my direct neighbor.

Every day, I would see the rough Polish workers in the garden, their tough exterior giving away nothing but their laborious days. Dusty and unshowered, they would gather after work to smoke, drink beer, and chat until late into the night. None of them seemed to be particularly fit, most being slightly overweight. However, their dedication to their work was admirable. During vacations, they would all go back to their families in Poland and return after spending quality time with their loved ones. It was during such Summer vacation period that I bumped into someone unexpected.

As I walked down the street, lost in my own thoughts, I noticed a hot, athletic guy who appeared to be lost. Curiosity got the better of me, and I approached him to offer my help. He was looking for number 13, the house right next to mine. I excitedly told him that I lived next door, and we introduced ourselves. His name was Pjotr, and he mentioned that he was from Poland as the rest of the guys.

Pjotr had recently finished carpenter school and had come to to England pursue his dreams in the construction industry. His charming demeanor instantly struck a chord with me, and before I knew it, I had fallen head over heels in love with him.

After a week of living next to each other, Pjotr and I bumped into each other again. I asked him how he was finding his time in England so far. He confessed that work was tough and after work was a bit monotonous. The other workers would only gather to drink and never did anything particularly interesting. He expressed his struggle in connecting with his rough colleagues, who mostly talked about women and football—topics that didn't interest him much. He was happy to paths crossed have with me, as it meant having someone to talk to outside of work.

Feeling an undeniable connection, the following week, I suggested we grab some food together, and he gladly accepted. During dinner, Pjotr confided in me about his ambition to build his own dream house and start his own construction company by the time he turned 30. I found his drive and determination incredibly inspiring and showered him with praise.

Our dinners together became a regular occurrence, and soon enough, we found ourselves venturing out to clubs, enjoying the vibrant nightlife. It was during one of those late-night walks home, in the midst of a palpable tension, that Pjotr surprised me by pushing me into an alleyway and passionately kissing me. Overwhelmed by desire, I invited him up to my place, and we shared an unforgettable night together. However, we both agreed that our encounters needed to remain discreet due to the nature of our situation. On the streets, we would greet each other as neighbors, and upon entering or leaving my house, we had to ensure that no prying eyes were watching.

As time went on, our relationship deepened, and we spent almost every day together. Pjotr would sneak into my house after dinner with colleagues at 7.30 pm to share a bite with me, have amazing sex and sleep together tight and set his alarm for 4:30 am, ensuring that he made it back to his place before anyone woke up. Our secret meetings, filled with passion and desire, became the highlights of our lives. But as the months passed, I began to notice subtle changes in Pjotr's physique. Love handles appeared on his once athletic frame, accentuating his rugged charm.

At first, it didn't bother me, but gradually, it became apparent that he was gaining weight. He confessed his struggle to me, explaining that his colleagues would cook fatty dinners every night, and the amount of beer they consumed was staggering. Despite his best efforts, the weight seemed to pile on rapidly, and he struggled to find a way out. To support him, I promised to cook lighter meals, but he would often snack on my food, turning my smaller portions into full dinners. Desserts became larger, and his belly started to grow bigger.

Seeing him change physically didn't dampen my attraction to him; in fact, I found his size newfound incredibly appealing. I assured him that he still looked hot, hoping to boost his confidence. In response, he asked if he could my use gym, determined to shed some weight. He embarked on a rigorous workout routine, spending hours at the gym after work.

The results were astonishing. His muscles bulked up, giving him an even more commanding presence. However, the weight he had gained remained, transforming him into an absolute beast of a man. He reveled in his newfound strength, attributing it partly to his size. Pjotr's colleagues, impressed by his determination, offered him lighter duties that didn't involve too much physical exertion, enabling him to indulge his appetite even more.

Over the course of five years, our secret encounters continued, and Pjotr's size grew. He had saved up a considerable amount of money and shared with me his plans to leave England for good. He was eager to return to Poland and live out his dreams of building his dream house and starting his own construction company. He asked if I would join him, sharing his desire to build a life together. His family was accepting of our relationship, and I found myself seriously considering starting a new life in Poland.

In the final months leading up to our departure, Pjotr had become simply obese. However, he appeared more relaxed and content now that his family knew about us. We made the decision to leave England behind and embrace a simpler life in Poland. I knew I could pursue my own career there as well. And so, that's where we find ourselves now—living a peaceful, joy-filled life in Poland I take. care of the love of my life, who spends his days building our dream house and establishing his own successful construction company. The days are busy, and as he constantly moves and works, he has shed some weight along the way. Nevertheless, his insatiable appetite and love for food guarantee that he will never be skinny again. But that's perfectly fine, because to me, he will always be the sexy, confident, and loving man I fell in love with—the who pursued man his ambitions, achieved his dreams, and captured my heart forever.

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iutdwae · 7 months

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— toned.

pairing. bangchan x (afab)reader

cw. thigh / ab riding, size kink and mutual pining if you squint, hints of sub!chan, chan is so desperate when it comes to your pleasure </3 poor baby comes in his pants >< friends to… something..? kinda pwop because i'm sleepy and i just really love the idea of grinding on chan's abs :<

word count. 1.5k

[ i had to come out of my 3 year tumblr writing hiatus because this has been on my mind for so long, and that picture that changbin had posted of his back did not help at all… ]

chan's rapid change of physique came to no one's surprise. given his role as an idol, you knew how much he valued being "presentable," to be the visually strong leader of a group of equally strong men. he'd started to spend more time at the gym, and in return, his build had more of an effect on you than you liked to admit: competent abs, the firm muscle lining his torso. the way his skin dips and curves, begging to be seen whenever he lifts his shirt up "innocently," but you swear it's an invitation every time.

suggestive complaints spilled from his plump lips about how sore his body is from his training earlier, the sweat still drying on him as the musk lingers. he's tempting and he knows he is, sleeves rolled up to accentuate his broad shoulders. his arms bulged as they cross over his body. "it's still hot," he excuses, but you know he wants you to take note of the way his veins texture his skin.

yet chan has the audacity to act flustered when you compliment the muscle he's worked so hard for. it's his routine, even in front of the camera: show off just to hide behind his fingers, that familiar red tint flushing his cheeks. but it's obvious he's putting on a front this time. he wants you to need him, too prideful to take you for himself. he's purposely stretching his body upwards, skillful in how he lets a sultry groan fall from his tongue while the hem of his black shirt rides up his waist to expose his defined v line, tantalizingly disappearing into the fabric of his sweatpants.

he has the audacity to act smug when you find yourself hopelessly rubbing against his clothed thigh, perched on top of him while your fingers ghost the lines of his abs. one of your hands grasps at his shoulders, nails digging into his delicate skin as one of his own rests gently on your hips, feeling the way you roll against him. his shirt had long been discarded, courtesy of your desperation as well as his discreet eagerness.

"you're so beautiful, princess," he coos lowly, brows furrowed and eyes hazy as he watches your expression. his cock is straining against his pants, just as sore as he claimed his body was, and you can physically feel how wet your pussy is each time you rock your hips forward. "y'like getting off knowing i'm all yours, don't you?"

you'd never had a preference for body type, but chan's build seemed to break you as you watched it develop; squirming at the mentions of his measurements, wide shoulders with a pretty waist, perfectly sectioned abs adorning his stomach. it was something about him in particular that had you craving him. he was nothing short of a gentleman, respectful and ideal. the type of man you knew your parents would approve of immediately. chris is careful with his words, knows exactly what to say and when to assure everyone he's acquainted with knows that he is no hassle.

perhaps, in some sinister, perverted fashion, it's his pleasantries that had you thinking of your best friend in ways that were animalistic in more ways than one. you caught onto every single one of his innuendos, all of the subtle gestures that you interpreted as bait, that made you wonder how tainted his mind was behind his polite and polished demeanor. watching him carry the weight of his members around on stage with nothing more than a soft breath, you couldn't help but let your mind wander, would he be able to manhandle you with that same ease?

soon enough, he'd slipped your pants off, though instead of settling back onto his thigh, you were straddling his torso, sore cunt draped right on top of his abs. chan let out a guttural whimper at the feeling of wet heat sliding across his stomach, clit catching along the dips of his muscle that sent static down your spine; both of you are sensitive, him in ways he couldn't really explain. "fucking love your pussy, baby," he gasped, dark eyes peering up longingly through long lashes. although there’s no pressure against his waist, he bucks up anyway, rutting his hips into thin air to counteract your own motions. large hands grasp your hips, thighs, ass, anything chan can reach from where he’s leaning back against the couch. “you’re so pretty getting off on me.” he’s desperate to feel more of you, latching onto any skin he can grope, his palms roaming aimlessly around your frame as they dip in and out from underneath your shirt.

meanwhile, you’re just as lost in the moment as the male is: hips stuttering as you grind down on his stomach, his hardened abs providing the perfect amount of pressure and rigidness that your cunt practically cried for. the soft pants that escaped your mouth matched chan’s rhythmically, whines coated with lust and neediness. you hadn’t been far from the truth, at least it didn’t feel like it when your best friend was just as turned on, grunting as he tried to nudge his clothed erection against you.

chan still upheld his chivalrous personality, even when his dick was painfully straining on his pants; he didn’t dare disrupt your chase towards your orgasm, moaning lowly as he watched your brows cinch, eyes clamped shut with your mouth gaped open. “gonna come all over me, huh?” he breathed out, sweat beading at his temple. the way your pussy slipped so easily along his abs made him dizzy, sopping wet and sticky against his skin. it was so much more than what he always imagined when he fucked himself into his hand, drunk on the way you used his body like this was what he’d worked so hard for—for you to come all over the muscle he trained for months to develop, leaving red streaks under your nails along his defined back and grasping onto him as roughly as he was groping you.

you could feel his abdomen tensing between your legs, laying more of your weight onto the male as your thrusts became more fervid and sloppy. your clit was caught right between the ridges of his abs, rocking back and forth as wanton cries fell from your lips to echo his own. with the way you were fucking yourself onto him, he would’ve assumed you were just making up for a lack of proper pleasure; though in reality, you’d just been thinking about how he’d fuck you since the very beginning of your friendship.

“channie, i’m so close,” you barely manage in the midst of your cries, the sound of your pussy lathering his skin in wetness loud enough for the both of you to hear. what you can’t see behind you is the obvious tent in chan’s pants, going unnoticed for the time being. it’s carnal and shameful the way you’re getting off on each other, his desperate attempts to fuck against you leaving him looking like a dog in heat all while your hips move rapidly on his torso.

his grasp tightened on your hips, guiding you as he pushes your weight further down onto him, and he’s rewarded by the loud gasp you let out as your body shudders. “come on me, princess. show me how good i make you feel.” chan’s sitting upwards now, his touch trailing up your sides as his eyes never leave you for a second. one hand, thankfully, makes its way between your thighs, his finger rubbing at your clit and he almost moans out loud at how wet you feel under his touch. “c’mon, i’m all yours, baby. let it out.”

what chan doesn’t expect is for himself to come too, immediately after watching your orgasm seep into the lines of his muscles, pussy fluttering and red at the sudden stimulation. he can feel his own cum pressed against the tip of his cock, staining the front of his pants with a relieved groan. and he can feel the slight burn of the scratches you left on his back while you’re coming down from your high in the security of his large arms. you can only mumble sniffled thank you’s to him while he holds you right against his chest, though he can’t help but rut up against you while you’re properly situated on his lap now. “you did so well for me, pretty,” he reassured you right into your ear, hoping you were too distracted to notice the way he was still trying to grind his cock against you. but the feeling of his wet sweatpants was unmistakable against your bare cunt. you’d speculated that chan had pretty good stamina, and it seemed to prove right when he’s eagerly sliding his sweats off to properly show you just how good he can make you feel.

#i love chan's abs #and his back #i just love buff men #bangchan #bangchan x reader #bangchan smut #bangchan imagines #bangchan hard thoughts #bang chan x reader #skz smut #skz hard thoughts #skz x reader

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aphroditelovesu · 5 months

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Yandere Henry VIII/Anne Boleyn Headcanons (Poly!Romantic)

❝ 👑 — lady l: I thought about this a while ago and it was saved in my drafts, but I only decided to write it now. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️❤️

❝tw: cheating, polyamorous relationship, obsessive and possessive behavior, mention of fights and jealousy.

❝ 👑pairing: yandere!henry viii x female!reader, yandere!anne boleyn x female!reader.

Anne was not blind to her husband's prying eyes on you. She felt angry, jealous and wanted to get rid of you as quickly as possible. But when Henry strictly forbade (threatened) her from doing something against you, she was shocked and smart enough not to act against his orders.

That being said, she started researching more about you. She was intrigued, it wasn't uncommon for Henry to keep mistresses and although she was hurt by this, there was nothing she could do. She hated it, but she was powerless against the King's power.

However, it was only after meeting you, after talking to you, that she finally understood why Henry was so interested in you. You had a unique grace, an aura that attracted her and made her comfortable. Before she knew it, Anne found herself longing for your company more which left her confused. Who in their right mind would fall in love with their husband's mistress?

It didn't matter anymore, not when Anne found herself falling more and more in love with you and soon began to feel jealous of her husband with you. It was unfair that he could have you and not her. .She deserved you more than him.

Henry, on the other hand, was over the moon. He quickly took you as his official mistress and no longer bothered trying to hide his affair with you, the love he felt for you. His desires for you were public knowledge and he was more than happy.

He knew this wouldn't please his wife, but he didn't care. Not when he had you in his arms, being loved and adored by him. You were so perfect, so sweet and so beautiful. You were made for him. Completely his.

Anne watched her husband interact with you with jealousy and longing, she wanted to hold you. She could no longer continue like this, being ignored. So she decided to act. During one night when her husband was visiting her, Anne decided to talk to him. Tell him how she feels about you. That she was attracted to you. Henry didn't know what to say.

He was stunned and silent, just watching his wife as if she were crazy. But Anne kept talking, wanting to make sure he understood. Henry remained strangely quiet and after a few minutes, a sparkle appeared in his eyes.

Henry would never accept sharing you with anyone, but he found the idea of sharing you with his wife strangely exciting. It wasn't ideal, but he saw nothing more pleasurable and lovely than having his mistress and his wife together.

They are both extremely possessive of you. They are jealous of each other with you, but they are more jealous of you around other people. You are theirs and Henry will use his power as King to deal with anyone who threatens his relationship with you. Anne had also used her influences to her advantage.

You are endlessly spoiled and adored. Servants are instructed to fulfill your every whim and desire. There is no doubt about who really holds all the power over them. Your relationship with Henry is public knowledge, but with Anne is kept private.

But that doesn't mean she stays away from you because she doesn't. Anne does her best to be by your side during the day, the touches and looks are discreet and shared only between you. Henry also participates, but he has no shame and actually kisses and touches you in public. He is the King, after all.

There is still a lot of jealousy and fighting over you between these two, fights that only became bigger after Anne's pregnancy. She wanted you with her all the time and so did Henry. You are the only person who can calm them down, usually sweet words and subtle touches do the trick.

You will be dragged into this never-ending tumultuous marriage, the fights that always turned into making love on the carpet in your rooms at the end of the night would always continue. Would the gifts, power and love you received be enough for you to endure this turbulent relationship with your King and Queen?

You forgot your worries when you were together with your lovers, in the privacy and tranquility of your chambers. Clothes on the floor and heavy breathing. In the end, you would always give in to them. You were as much theirs as they were yours.

#yandere historical characters #yandere history #yandere henry viii #history #yandere henry viii x reader #yandere henry viii headcanons #yandere anne boleyn #yandere anne boleyn x reader #yandere anne boleyn headcanons #henry viii x reader #anne boleyn x reader #henry viii x reader x anne boleyn #yandere henry viii x reader x anne boleyn #yandere headcanons #headcanons #yandere poly #polyamourous #the tudors #yandere the tudors

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shirefantasies · 1 month

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Hi Marti! I think I've got a doozy for ya, hope your up for it. How do you think The Company of Thorin Oakenshield would go about trying to set two folks up, like romantically? What's everyone's like technique I guess- who's more straightforward with introducing people to eachother, who's a background guy like manipulating things so the two potential lovebirds end up sharing space at a public event, who's talking up the other person when they aren't around, who's explicitly like 'you and this person would make a cute pair.' and. and and and- most importantly- how does this change if this involves their brothers/relations? I'm grinning so damn hard rn, I believe in you!

I'm absolutely obsessed with this ok??? YES 🅱️LS (also, portraying this like it’s you & another company member hehe)

Warnings: a suggestive joke or two

How Thorin’s Company Would Set You Up With Someone

Balin

✧ Sensible, subtle, simple. His approach will be more along the lines of getting you and his target to spend more time together.

✧ He’ll ask you both to go complete a task like gathering firewood together.

✧ As you two (even if forcibly) are spending more time together, he might start bringing them up more, daring to ask a question about that.

✧ One tell he has is the proud, sly little smile that can sometimes be seen upon his face as you two interact.

✧ When you two actually get together, he makes his grand reveal, smugly telling you both he’s been around long enough to be able to tell when two are right for each other.

Dwalin

✧ Has no clue what he’s doing, frankly, and likely is only doing it because his brother or someone else roped him into it.

✧ Or else he has a really strong protective instinct toward you, the other company member, or both. Then it becomes a matter of greater urgency, more based upon the concept of making sure you are with someone he trusts. Simply put, no one else will do.

✧ Rather than wax poetic, Dwalin prefers putting you in situations that display his target’s skills and worth. If they’re a fighter, he’ll send them in to save you, for example.

✧ Very subtle with the stereotypical ‘wingman’ comments, but they're there. “Looks like you got rescued today, eh?” "You know, if there's anyone I trust for help with that, why it would have to be..."

✧ His eyebrows raise when you actually announce this very soul to the company as your one, but he's the first to clap hands to your shoulders and bring up a shout of celebration.

Thorin

✧ By far the most awkward about it- he can barely process his own feelings, let alone others’.

✧ “I- I just want you to be happy.” Hopes you know what he means by that, but it’s a coin toss honestly.

✧ Relents and assigns you two joint tasks like unsaddling the ponies or gathering firewood, hoping that’s enough to help draw you closer.

✧ If one of you expresses any sort of heavy emotion, he actually does a really good job relating it to the other’s experience and directing you that way, prompting a heart-to-heart.

✧ Smiles widely and pulls you both lightly into his arms at the news, taking it as a sign of continuation and prosperity to come.

Oin

✧ Surprisingly one of the more discreet ones.

✧ Makes a lot of conversation as he patches you up anyway, so teasing questions about who amongst them you fancy most just seem to come with the job.

✧ Little do you know that the moment you spill, Oin turns around and starts teasing the other party about what a catch you are. What? He’s getting older, let him have his fun.

✧ He makes you his nursemaid of sorts to help the next time they get hurt. If you take great issue at such sights he’ll just ask you to keep them company upon being patched up.

✧ “I said it would be a match, and a match it is!” He calls out, fists pumped into the air at your revelation.

Gloin

✧ Physically shoves you in the direction of his intended target under the guise of merriment. Not hard, just enough to get them to turn and look at you and see the moment's right.

✧ Comes up with team games so you two can be on a team against him and whichever friend or brother he's roped in that time.

✧ Finding out if your feelings are true is in the interest of his betting pool, so Gloin is not above asking you the occasional alluding question, usually a small one like what your type is.

✧ The first to laugh heartily and slap you on the back if you display any sort of flirting behaviors!

✧ Shouts with wild abandon when you come out with it, racking up all his sacks of coins with glee before he grabs you two and gives you an affectionate, proud shake!

Bifur

✧ Silent observers are some of the most deeply perceptive individuals.

✧ Thus, whoever’s end it’s on, Bifur can see feelings blossoming, his head bobbing back and forth between you two with interest at nearly every interaction.

✧ Eagerly employs some rather…unorthodox… methods of seeing you set up. “I can steal his socks and give them to you so you can be the hero who finds them!”

✧ Begins telling both you and his intended match heavily exaggerated stories of each other’s great feats, completely unaware of the separate conversations about them you’ll then have.

✧ Grabs your hands and joins them when he hears the news, nodding and clapping proudly!

Bofur

✧ Can be obvious about it, but still one of the most natural.

✧ Throws an arm around you both, all but dragging you over to the fire to sing and dance with him…and more importantly each other!

✧ He’s often off doing the laundry, so he oh-so-innocently spills something one day and asks his target to surrender their shirt…right in your full view, of course!

✧ Pulls you into more jokes with whoever fancied, teasing them and then calling you out by name to join in: “Isn’t that right?” He winks at you the moment you look at him, the scoundrel!

✧ “See, didn’t I tell ya it was meant to be? Nothing but blessings from me, you two.”

Bombur

✧ Finds himself smiling and clasping his hands whenever you two interact. Maybe he can help it along...

✧ Excuse king. “Say, could you go fetch ‘im for me? …Why? Oh, because I borrowed something the other night.” “Can you sit there? It’s just I’m a bit warm, so I’d like to be further away from the fire if you please.”

✧ Being married himself, he understands some of the best how a good relationship starts, i.e. with a firm friendship. Thus he starts talking to you both and joking around more to make memories that bring you together!

✧ Also gives his targets credit for anything. “Lost one of my gloves the other day ‘n’ you’ll never guess who found it!”

✧ Beams and offers the biggest bear hugs he can when you announce your relationship. Bragging rights who? Bombur just loves love.

Dori

✧ Lives for the drama anyway, but general investment would grow tenfold if that person happened to be one of his little brothers.

✧ The questioning sort, suddenly asking you things like if you’ve ever considered settling down after this is all over and if so, any inklings with what type of person?

✧ Suddenly he can’t speak highly enough of this person even if it’s not one of his siblings, tossing it into your teatime conversations how they’re that strong or this skilled or he hears that family crafts the finest courting beads if he’s one of the dwarves.

✧ It’s enough that you pick up on what he’s doing and tell him that well, if that company member is interested then they’d best just tell you, prompting Dori to rush to them and try to convince them to confess.

✧ Whether they need the push or not, Dori’s target eventually makes a move, leaving the older dwarf to brag like a proud father, uncle, big brother, you name the dynamic he can do it!

Nori

✧ Not shy about any part of the whole affair. Watches you both with a shit eating grin.

✧ “So, if it had to be anyone there, who’d it be? …what, I can’t be the first one to be asking that, can I?”

✧ Heavily contemplates going the jealously route. Barring you getting uncomfortable, Nori starts being far more friendly with you and putting his arm around you more often to see what his target does.

✧ Proceeding, of course, to teasingly confront them about it later. “What, did it bother you? Wonder why. Maybe you oughta take that up with ‘em, then.”

✧ Some company members bought his act a little too well, gazes swiveling between you and your match and Nori himself as if expecting him to now be jealous.

Ori

✧ Surprisingly great at matchmaking- his fear of being discovered keeps him very very discreet, and he has a great sense for love.

✧ “Can you two sit right there? I’d like to get some drawings while we’ve got the time. Thank you! Oh, just a little bit closer. Little bit more. There we go!”

✧ The moment you need help, Ori knows someone who can help you! Sends you right their way with an innocent little smile.

✧ Has made it his business to have a general idea of what everyone likes, which comes quite well in handy pointing out to you that someone else in the company's got a similar interest or hobby. Grins to himself when he sees you actually approach them about it.

✧ Feels no need to come out and announce himself to you once you're together, but he brags about predicting and matchmaking you two endlessly to Dori, who listens with great pride.

Fili

✧ Having the absolute time of his life.

✧ He’s likely gotten up to this due to gaining the knowledge- or else it simply being that obvious- that one of you has feelings for the other or is attracted to them. Thus, teasing abounds!

✧ “Ever thought about it? …what? Why, you two, of course! Everyone else has, after all.”

✧ Leans on his sword or against a tree, giving his best attempt at a smooth pose as he whispers that they like you too. Yes, even if he isn't certain that you like them as well.

✧ "Finally!" He calls out the first time he sees you two kiss. It may earn him a smack, but it's worth it.

Kili

✧ Likely doing this teamed up with Fili and also having the absolute time of his life.

✧ Jokes around any time you two are paired for things. “Well you two make quite the handsome couple, don’t you?”

✧ Plays sides with whoever he's closest to, possibly with his brother falling to the person's other side. "Be honest, who do you think is the best looking of us all? What do you think of that one there?"

✧ "Come on now," he asks you directly if you have any interest in his target, especially if he knows you do, "you can tell me." This, of course, is punctuated with a wink.

✧ He wasn't expecting to actually become your confidant, but when you tell him you trust him with your news and that he's the first to know, he can't help beaming and pulling you into a hug.

Bilbo

✧ Insists to all the other company members that hobbits are the best at matchmaking, thank you. But that, of course, leaves him to prove it.

✧ Step one: food. Food is one of the greatest bonding agents known to hobbits, so Bilbo will task you with bringing your potential interest dinner and thus sitting at their side for the meal.

✧ Step two: common interests. Bilbo himself becomes something of a double agent, talking to one of you and then the other and dropping names at any good opportunity. Perhaps both of you knit. Maybe you need your blades sharpened and they've just done theirs. You could simply just have the same favorite animal and the both of you will know it by the time Bilbo is through.

✧ Step three: strategically moving your bedrolls to be right next to each other. What? It works! That night his target ends up rolling against you in his sleep and you lean up against him.

✧ When you wake up the following morning, shock overtakes you, then shy smiles and a private conversation that has Bilbo smirking to the rest of the company triumphantly.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @joonies-word @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia | Reply/Ask/Message to join!

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jacevelaryonswife · 1 year

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ㅤCatch me if you can, working on my tan, Salvatore.

The summer's wild and I've been waiting for you, all this time, I adore you, can't you see you’re meant for me?

∴pairing: Sugar Daddy!Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

∴warnings and notes: age gap, reader is 20+ but her age isn’t mencioned, smut. Inspired by Salvatore from Lana Del Rey.

The first time you saw him was at an exhibition at the Targaryen foundation, which depicted life in Old Valyria. He was magnetic, intense and almost too attractive. Truly inaccessible, you thought, however, life wanted to positively surprise you with the opposite of that. You weren't used to going to sophisticated places, although you were a girl with expensive and demanding tastes, so when your friend invited you to the event your heart almost jumped out of your mouth. It was so exciting to be among such a select few of New York's elite, you could almost relax for a moment. Almost.

Underneath the subtle makeup and cheap clothes — perfectly chosen for the occasion —you were scared. Not out of fear of discovering your humble nature, after all that never embarrassed you, but fear of rejection, of the superb and elitist look in your direction, fear of humiliation by unhappy and mean people. At the start of the exhibition your figure stood alongside your friend and her friend, Aegon Targaryen, a fully representative specimen of the rich fuckboy stereotype — at least he was funny. However, as the evening progressed and people became more relaxed, you assumed you could move around and mingle with less tension around people. You've talked to some of the Targaryen/Velaryon youths closer to your age. Two of them, Jacaerys and Daeron were genuinely adorable and even a little flirtatious, which made you slyly recoil upon realizing their interest.

In this way, finding yourself in a corridor away from the small crowd, you began to contemplate some paintings placed on the wall that didn’t belong to the exhibition. One of them caught your attention and captured you for a long time, it was a night city in a cyberpunk aesthetic in the shape of the upper part of a male silhouette. You've never seen anything like that.

"Do you like it?" A male voice asked very close to you, on your side actually.

And then he appeared. Tall, thin, short hair, with a discreet smile.

“Uh, I'm not a big art connoisseur, but I appreciate a beautiful painting,” you said.

“And what do you think of this one?”

You returned to contemplate the painting again, before replying: “I like the futuristic aesthetic. It's aggressive, rowdy and intimidating, it reminds me of works like Altered Carbon, it's chaotic and dark and I can't stop admiring it. I don't really know if it's futuristic at all, but it resembles me. I think it was my favorite so far.”

He didn't hide his satisfied expression upon hearing your opinion, looking away from his handsome face to the screen in question.

“The reference was a troubled phase of my youth, I spent nights awake in galleries in downtown New York, Chicago and Paris. It was more underground than it is today and I certainly have some scars, but nothing that time can put us back on track.”

His eyes sparkled in self-realization. That was not only the author of the painting, but he was also a Targaryen. How did you not notice before? The short gray hair and violet eyes were distinctive enough to give away a Valyrian for miles. Maybe it was some mechanism in your brain to avoid associating him with a descendant of the dragon and making you nervous again, but it didn't matter now, not when he was already beside you in that beige linen shirt with the long sleeves and collar and sophisticated posture.

“Daemon Targaryen,” he said, holding out his hand.

You introduced yourself with a shy smile, greeting him back. “Are these all yours? They are very good."

He didn't need to look at the other pictures in the hall to nod. “Only a few, most are in my gallery.”

“Oh,” was all you said. “How long have you been painting?”

“I like to say I was born with brushes for fingers,” he chuckled with a hint of smugness. “And as for you, what were you born to do?”

"I don't know. I never really knew. I like my field, although I haven't graduated yet, but I never had a big dream or talent for arts in general.”

The look he gave you was understanding, almost affectionate, nodding. You stayed the rest of the night together, and even though you hadn't lived a third of what he had told you, the oldest Targaryen didn't make light of your experiences and aspirations for the future, quite the contrary, he asked a lot about your tastes, your dreams, your preferences and desires. Even if you were apprehensive about being around the most charming man you'd ever seen, Daemon was good enough to break through your preoccupation and wrap you up in a spiral of seduction veiled in sophisticated words and good conversation. By the gods, how you longed for that night not to end and you had to return to your simple and unglamorous life, to your heavy routine of studies and tiredness with uninteresting boys unlike the handsome man at your side.

“You have a beautiful face, you know, I would love to have you in one of my paintings,” he said as he rested his glass of white wine on the shelf beside him, “and I can already imagine how.”

"How?" You smiled in ecstasy, especially when he moved a piece of your hair to your ear and caressed your face. Your heart froze a beat and your mouth parted, a part of the smile still visible. It seemed too unreal to be true, but you would never object to what was about to happen.

“I'd love to show you,” he said before cupping your face and pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that made you float. You grabbed the back of his neck to pull him closer and rose on tiptoe to reach him properly, only to find yourself deliciously pressed against the wall as he stole the breath from your lungs in the sexiest, most demanding way possible. It wasn't an exaggeration to say that your reality seemed fully magnified as he pulled back and stared into your face, still so close you could only get intoxicated on his expensive woody cologne. “Come to my apartment, I need you babygirl.”

Oh dear, an indecent sound nearly escaped your mouth at the nickname, your breathing turning into wheezes immediately. You've never been in a relationship with an older man, not for lack of interest, but there weren't any such attractive options close until tonight. It felt like a sensual dream, especially when he traced circular patterns on her neck with his thumb.

“Yes."

Daemon glared fiercely before pulling you gently around the waist and out of the room, opening the door for you to say goodbye to your friend and Aegon, hating the knowingly slutty look he directed at your figure. Your heart pounded with each traffic light the luxurious red convertible crossed, impressed by the ruby, blue and green lights that illuminated that part of town and even more by the large hand that was on your bare thigh. How you wished it would rise a little higher...

Luckily his dazzlingly modern apartment wasn't far away, with beautiful floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the sea of buildings and skyscrapers of the world's greatest metropolis. It was breathtaking. You couldn't help but walk to the center of the room, gently tapping the glass as a smile left your lips. "It's so beautiful."

“No more than you, I promise,” he whispered into your hair, next to your ear, sending shivers through the body. He curled one hand in front of your body, caging you between the glass as he brushed your hair away from your neck to sensually kiss your erogenous spot, making your eyes close and your hands rest on the glass. His vague hand ran over your waist and breasts, squeezing your flesh deliciously. “Have you been with a man before, babygirl? A real man, not these fuckers who don't know how to satisfy a girl properly.”

“No, I never have been,” you replied breathlessly, looking at him through the reflection.

“I will make sure you never forget this night.”

Daemon turned you around to kiss you, demanding to taste, lick, suck, and bite each of your mouths. He'd like to taste your sweet pussy right there, fucking your beautiful body against the glass, but he wanted more, so much more, he wanted to lay you on the bed while the blue light outside illuminated your body just like the painting he'd imagined. And so he did. He stripped you of your clothes before laying you on the white sheets, drinking in the masterful image before you. He leaned down to kiss and suck on your neck as he slid his hand down the length of your body to the wet spot between your legs, spreading your wetness with his fingers before massaging your clit incisively with the palm of his hand, making a long, breathy moan out of your throat as you held him from behind, desperate for more friction. He removed his hand from your legs to grab your breasts and bring them to his mouth, but was quick to repeatedly grind his clothed manhood against your needy, wet pussy. He smeared saliva on your breasts and continued to tread south, kissing and stroking your stomach with his big hands.

“Fuck,” he growled at the sight of your shimmering femininity, so eager for his attention. “So fucking pretty,” he said before kissing the inside of your right thigh, holding your hips in place to dip like a bee on your flower, eating you like no other has. You moaned loudly and squeezed your eyes shut, holding onto his hair as your legs unconsciously tightened around his head. He never wavered, devouring your pearl like a starving man only to feel your body relax beneath him, your orgasm coming so hot and wet it had you moaning pathetically as he licked for another moment. A proud smile appeared on his features, which was met by a shy and satisfied smile before your hands struggled to remove the last physical obstacle that separated them.

“Ready for me, love?”

You nodded during the long look at his beautiful member. How he would love to thrust into you with no hindrance, but that would be asking too much for a first night, he knew that. So when he returned to the bed with the condom on and settled himself between your legs, his hand on your knees, there was nothing to look forward to but losing himself in your wet heat, so deliciously hot and tight. He let out a guttural growl as you let out a sly moan, sagging in glee as your pussy was filled in a steady rhythm.

“Daemon,” you cried breathlessly, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. He became deeper and faster in his movements. “Oh! Don’t stop!" Your whisper had him moaning in your ear and biting down on your bottom lip, fucking your sensual body hungrily.

“Fuckin' hells,” he growled as you squeezed him and milked him wet all over his cock, kissing the sensitive spot on your neck. He didn't last long after that, allowing himself to fully enjoy your heat to come hard over your body, rolling over to discard the condom and lying next to you, pulling you into his chest.

“That was amazing,” you said, smiling wide and tired, feeling your warm intimacy relax completely.

He just smiled and nodded silently, draping an arm over your shoulder. You didn't bother too much to stay awake, however, Daemon's low voice caught your attention.

“You said you never had great aspirations, but you also told me of dreams to be fulfilled, desires, everything you would like to have, see and live. Let me do it, babygirl, let me help you.”

Your eyes widened, looking up to meet his calm features. "Are you serious?" We don't even know each other well, this is a big step for both of us,” you said.

“We have enough time for that, I just need to know if you want it.”

This is definitely the best night of your life. Of course I do, holy shit I want it so bad. “Yes! I want it! I want it so much!” You kissed him sleepily, smiling against his lips. And that's how the dynamic between you began.

tag: my bestie @valeskafics cause she planted the idea of sugar daddy daemon in my head with this work here, check out her work! She's the queen of hotd content.

#daemon #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #modern daemon #sugar daddy!daemon #sugar daddy daemon #daemon x reader #daemon x you #daemon targaryen x you #modern hotd #au #smut #daemon targaryen smut #matt smith

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kdbleu · 11 months

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Costuming and The Bear...

So, costuming on TV, in a movie always means something even if it’s only a representation of the character. The Bear seems to use that on the next level, too, on the more thematic/symbolic level.

Richie wearing only Beef merchandise is the most obvious use of both these ideas, because it’s not subtle, like Richie is not subtle. His adherence to the Beef dress code shows that his character is tied more to the past than the present/future, and that he’s outside the rest of the group as the kitchen staff dons the new blue aprons. The only exception Richie makes in the present is when he’s on a date. Which says something too. That Richie knows how to fit social expectations. Even how to impress if he keeps his mouth shut.

Clear, color separation is used with Sugar. She wears civvies because she doesn’t work in the kitchen, but she’s in orange, the opposite of blue on the color wheel in the pilot, and pink, a social opposite of blue later when she comes to clean up the shot-out glass and search the office for the tax paperwork. This makes it obvious that she doesn’t work in the restaurant, and she doesn’t like it. In the season 2 trailer, talking to Cicero, she coordinates with Carmy and Sydney, showing that she’s coming around.

There’s a distinct present quality in the blue apron uniform as Mikey’s kitchen staff only adds Carmy’s apron to their usual personalized work wear while Carmy and Sydney wear more personally standardized white tops and black/dark pants that not only are consistent but coordinate with each other, already making them a unit within the unit.

This apron/group dynamic is heightened by it not only being pointed out by Tina, but by Tina going from not wearing the blue apron to Carmy remarking that she looks like Sydney when Tina finally does and Tina in return saying to him she’s “profesh” now. It's interesting that Tina wears a white blouse, like Sydney, before the blue apron. It’s the apron and Carmy she resists not the kitchen uniform, but it hints at the future before she joins the present. And before she sheds her individualism.

This desire for individualism leads to Sydney’s scarves, her show of individualism and how she works the fact that she has to hold her braids back into something distinct and bold within her personal uniform that she likely spent a lot of time working towards as she figured out how stand out as herself in a professional kitchen in a way that could not be argued with. Although she also probably played closer to the rules in an attempt to almost hide, wearing something very discreet until she found a place and acceptance at the Beef with Carmy. She wears a more subtle version of her scarf in episode 1 with it rolled then she does in later episodes with the triangle point showing off more color. I envision her wearing the rolled version while catering and interviews because it’s a little sleeker while still hinting and her boldness.

Carmy keeping to his own version of a very classic chef look shows his insecurity even as he comes into his own. He wants to wear something he’s comfortable in that hints at the denim collection and keeps him close to Mikey, but white tee and black work pants with a blue apron is still very professional kitchen. Carmy shows off on the plate, not in his uniform, which he keeps no matter how he’s working in the restaurant or where he’s cooking. Except at home, which is notable. This is echoed in his off-duty clothes, muted colors, and denim, as opposed Sydney’s prints, stripes and screen tees.

All of this is a very winding way to say that all the costume choices mean something. It’s something that the new girl will have a uniform that matches Sugar’s life outside the Beef/Bear. That Richie has Berf merch hidden in someone’s basement, a further tie to the messed up past. That Tina seems to be doing better in culinary school than Ebra. That Marcus and Fak have their own flair.

(There’s not enough of Marcus in the trailers to really guess at his path forward, just rumors, so I’m going to hold off on him in season 2, but in season 1 he falls between present and past but definitely in action looks to his future. I mean, he’s obsessed with possibility and donuts.)

But it also signifies a lot that Carmy and Sydney match in one chaos menu scene but not in the other. Just like it’s important they’re in his home. So, yeah, Carmy and Sydney standing outside their evolving restaurant with Carmy in his personal uniform and Sydney in a personalized inverse of that uniform is a moment that ties them as equals who fit together and complement each other. The fact that they’re together day and, if BTS shot are to be believed, night looking up to the future means they’re a pair. No matter what that future might hold. (the picture is from @devisrina's blog. Thank for posting it.)

#the bear fx #the bear hulu #carmy berzatto #sydney adamu #richie jerimovich #sugar berzatto #tina the bear #marcus the bear #ebra the bear #color and symbolism #costuming #chaos menu #whatever that means

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goblinwithartsupplies · 10 months

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Pjo x dc

Mostly Billy Batson

Hear me out. Captain Marvel/Billy Batson is aware of the Greek gods for obvious reasons.

However he isn’t aware of camp half blood and the fact demigods are still around.

The demigods are very aware of Captain Marvel. Lots of them are jealous of him because he is gets special treatment. A lot of campers think he’s some ancient son of Zeus. Luke castellan wanted to punch him because Captain Marvel had mercury’s blessing.

Captain Marvel/ Billy is basically the gods errand boy. He protects magical places and fixes magic problems. But only when they interact to closely with other pantheons and other magical spheres.

————————————————————————

Billy is a son of Hermes. He doesn't figure out he's a demigod until he comes across Hermes while being captain marvel.

Billy is captain marvel and has to do something with Hermes and they have to be discreet. So Billy powers down. And suddenly Hermes is staring at his 10 year old son.

Hermes: yea we're going to be subtle here. I don't think a 6'4" champion of the gods is going to be very subtle.

Captain Marvel: oh no problem. SHAZAM!

Billy: this subtle enough?

Hermes: BILLY?!?!

Billy: how'd you know my name?

Hermes: I'm not sure how to tell you this kiddo but l'm your father.

Billy a homeless child who has seen weirder at this point: cool can I have some money? I'm sorta homeless.

Hermes pulling out a pamphlet for camp half blood: I have a better idea.

————————————————————————

Hermes actually takes Billy to camp personally. The entire camp had an aneurism when they found out that not only Captain Marvel a demigod he’s also like 12.

The Hermes cabin looks at Billy who has been overworked since he became Captain Marvel and is terrified he’ll turn out like Luke. Connor actually gives Billy Luke’s old bunk.

————————————————————————

The Hecate cabin loves Billy because they get to talk about how annoying Constantine is and how awesome Zatana is.

This love strengthens when Billy finds Alabaster running around and Billy lets Alabaster stay in the cave of wonders. (They miss their brother)

————————————————————————

Percy meets Captain Marvel

Percy: so you have the strength of Hercules? AND the stamina of Atlas?

Captain Marvel: yep! I’ve even met them.

Percy pulling out riptide: so have I. You ever heard of Zöe Nightshade?

Captain marvel: no….

Percy: thought not. So the next time you see Hercules you’re gonna…

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Annabeth: the wisdom of SOLOMON! What’s wrong with the wisdom of Athena?!

Billy: I don’t know he isn’t even Greek or Roman! I’m just as confused! Some of them three of them aren’t even gods! They’re demigods and a titan!

Annabeth: and you’re blessed by Mercury but you’re a son of Hermes!

Billy: I know! He says I’m a walking headache.

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Some villain: HA I’ve depowerd you Captain Marvel! Now that you’ve lost your ability to fly you won’t be able to stop me!

Billy: yeah about that. Maia! *winged sneakers start to fly*

Some villain: oh come on!

————————————————————————

the justice league is oddly connected to the gods

Lois Lane is a Daughter of Apollo. Superman gets his powers from the sun think about it.

Oliver Queen and Roy Harper while not demigods are favored by Apollo. Apollo gave them the gift of clear sight. Apollo has flirted with both of them and Lois hates it.

Batfam are demigods mostly of various minor gods. The mist around Gotham is really weak. Most Gotham demigods never go to camp because Gotham has its own system for demigods. Gotham demigods are aware of ALL the pantheons.

Bruce is a Roman legacy of Nox (Nyx) and Pavor (Phobos). Self explanatory. He only served a few years in camp Jupiter saying that he had a mortal life to deal with aka Batman stuff.

Alfred has a small altar dedicated to Hestia/Vesta both in the kitchen and by a fireplace in the batcave

Steph is such a Hermes kid. Cluemaster is her step father but she didn’t know that until she was claimed. She is a distant legacy of Apollo through her mother.

Dick is a son of Hebe. He never looks over 23. His parents are still his parents it’s more of a 3 parents situation.

Jason is a son of Nemesis and a legacy of the Celtic god Ogma (knowledge god) I also like the idea of him being a son of Hermes. Imagine Hermes picking up Jason’s soul when he died.

Tim is a distant legacy of Athena and a son of Nike.

Harley Quinn is a defendant of Dionysus specifically of his god of madness form.

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stealyourblorbos · 10 months

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Oscuridad

Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader, 1k, Explicit - very little plot, established (secret) relationship, size difference, some power play, feral boyfriend, a bit of breeding kink, allusions to shibari (blink and you miss it), flufforn (they’re drunk on each other okay?), mentions of trauma, PTSD, no Y\N

Summary: Darkness makes all the masks fall.

Creator chose not to list further warnings. By clicking “keep reading” you have agreed that you are over 18 and willing to view Adult Content.

Many thanks to the wonderful @writeforfandoms who kindly agreed to look this one up for me!

You used to be afraid of the dark. Before him.

It turned out, darkness has a handsome face, a couple of clever hands and a deep voice that can whisper endless strings of sweet nothings in your ear, something about mi tesoro or mi vida and dozens of other nicknames you can't find bravery in yourself to look up yet. Darkness became an epitome of toe-curling pleasure that left you breathless every other night, when your bedroom window opens with a soft creak and a herculean figure sneaks inside with a surprising silence and ease, immediately reaching out to you. Darkness makes all the masks fall.

He's so desperate to get closer every single time that his infamous high tech suit glitches in haste and uncovers only random parts of him, leaving the expanse of his ridiculously athletic body shimmering, flashing with tiny stars like the night summer sky. Beautiful, mesmerizing – as is a steady, fluid motion of his hips pressing into you with neverending hunger.

“Too good…” He moans loud and broken, trying to hide his face into the space between your neck and shoulder, as if to curl all of his enormous, muscular form into you.

“Tsk!” You playfully swat his rippling constellations-covered bicep. “It's not me they're all gonna be eyeing tomorrow at work again, Mig. The HQ dorm walls are not that soundproof!”

He only growls in response and with one arm pulls you up flush against his body. Set of perfect fangs slightly bites your exposed nipple, brisk and fast – barely enough to not break the skin but making you yelp in surprise. All subconscious demonstrations of his inhuman strength and sense of control, inhuman as well. You're well aware that he could tear this whole place apart easily and yet his affectionate touches light you up with gentle warmth that makes your heart explode. He doesn't need to know about that, though.

“I asked you to move in ages ago and have been playing along with all this shocking "stay discreet" circus only because you wanted me to...Do they all really think they're being subtle while checking you out?” He whispers hotly, changing the rhythm to a harsher one as if to make a better point, each strong thrust is an emphasis to his words, accompanied by the wet sounds of your mixed arousal. “Should've just wrapped you up in the web and hauled you to my place like some present. Like a real gift you are. You…”

You feel like if he keeps talking like that you're gonna shatter into a swarm of butterflies - or myriads of tiny dancing tropical spiders you two watched in a rainforest on Earth-1610 the other day. So you swiftly silence him by kissing that soft waiting mouth of his, sucking on his tongue lightly and eliciting another obscene moan out of him.

He reluctantly breaks the kiss and strokes your nose with his own, panting against your kiss-swollen lips and looking down, crimson eyes shining under the cobweb of his scandalously thick lashes. One of his clawed palms slides there to the place where you two are joined, relishing in the feeling of you stretched around his heavy girth, slowly caressing your folds, gathering slick and stopping at your clit with just the right amount of pressure and stimulation, making you see stars. “You’re so good, so perfect, baby, I’m not gonna last anymore. Where?”

You’re barely able to keep your eyes open to meet his wanton, half-lidded gaze and manage, tongue faster than remains of your common sense. “Inside me, Mig. Please.”

He hums lowly in approval, slides his huge arms under your knees and pulls so that your legs end up on his shoulders, almost folding you in half with one fluid, easy motion and then lowers his torso to be closer to you. You’ve never felt so full before and open your mouth with a silent moan, fully surrendering to pleasure.

Miguel watches you intently with hungry eyes, alternating movement between long, powerful thrusts and slowly gyrating inside of you. Mindful of not crushing you with that absurd body of his, he puts his weight on the elbow beside your head, hovering over you, and traces your parted mouth with clawed fingers of his free hand. You catch one of them with your lips and suck with abandon. He takes a shuddered breath and closes his eyes for a moment, crooning in that sinful voice of his. “Perfect baby. All mine. So beautiful, so filthy and all mine… Would you really like my cum to trickle down your thighs? so you could still feel me afterwards?”

“Yes,” You moan around his finger, hips trying to meet his inhuman thrusts, oblivious to anything else. “Yes. I love that. I lo…”

He hoarsely roars out your name, steady rhythm faltering for a moment, and the feeling of a warm throbbing deep inside does it for you. You two fall over the precipice, hand in clawed hand. He doesn’t stop though, keeping movement more measured and light, helping you ride out the high until your breathing evens out. Then he sits back on his haunches while staying inside you, huge palms sliding up and down your legs, massaging so they won't turn asleep and gently releasing them on the destroyed bedsheets. You sigh contentedly and he comes back down to hug you and flip you both to the side, nuzzling into your chest and neck. Inhuman, you remind yourself, feeling that he’s hard again.

“Damn you, O’Hara,” You swear half-heartedly while he’s lazily drawing webs on your naked skin with his fingers. “Now I definitely have to move the hell out of here.” He doesn’t even try to hide his winning smile looking down at you, shiny fangs out and all, which still is a rare sighting.

“If I only knew, I'd have done it much much earlier.” He wiggles eyebrows playfully. “So tomorrow? And is the web tying thing still included?”

You gently grab his face, making his pouty lips pucker even more. “Only if Lyla manages to figure out some new techy razor for you. That superhuman stubble of yours, sheesh. I’ve run out of ideas on how to heal and hide skin burns.”

Miguel ponders, looking away and muttering as if to himself. “Maybe you don’t have to hide anything at all…” He searches your eyes in an attempt to lighten up his tone. “I could grow a beard as well, what do you say?”

“So you’ll look like one of those corny porn actors from Earth-199999? No, thank you very much.”

“You’ll still love me anyway, right?” He jokes automatically and goes quiet, realization that it might be too much hitting late.

You meet his sad wounded gaze, a stark contrast with the steely indifferent stare and rock hard jaw expression he wears during daytime, an aftermath of all the numerous losses he experienced. How much can a person lose before they lose themself? But he’s still here. And so are you.

Feeling heat creeping up your neck and cheeks, you silently look him in the eyes and slowly, oh so slowly blink in agreement. You hear him taking a breath he turned out to be holding all this time.

“And I you.” He pulls you closer in his embrace, lips warm against your temple. “In every damn universe.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara smut #spider man atsv #spider man 2099 #spider man #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel

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marveloustimestwo · 1 year

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Hii! I got this idea after I woke up so, I'm sorry if it's a little messy. What if Remus, Sirius and James fall for the same reader? Any of them know about the yandere tendencies of each other (they never talk about it cause they thought the others would judge him) but one day they found each other while stalking the reader? 🤔

Finally got something out! Thank you for your patience and the request!

Warnings: Yandere themes, talk of stalking

I think that each of them is slightly different in how they fall for you and figure out that the others have done the same.

Both Sirius and James are fast to start obsessing over you, yet there is absolutely no shaking them out of it.

We're given hints as to what James acted like with Lily. He pursued her for years, very persistent and firm despite her showing zero interest, and at times, only irritation for him.

I talked about Sirius's behavior during a couple of my writing events, but he's very outwardly passionate about his darling, as well as the most dangerous out of the three of them.

He's impulsive, aggressive, and oftentimes jealous. While James isn't as eager to hurt others who talk to you, Sirius will jinx, hex, and bully anyone who he deems as a threat (which can be almost anyone).

As for Remus, he's not as quick to fall. He likely sees how foolishly his friends are acting and questions how you've brought this out in them.

Trying to figure out the answer to such a question leads him to an obsession of his own.

He's not as bold as Sirius and James are. He's quieter and reserved, and he can actually be very charming when it comes to you.

While obsessed, he leans toward the softer side, and not many will see his yandere tendencies (though he can get worse towards the full moon. More possessive and aggressive if he thinks someone is threatening you.)

As for stalking you, all of them have a certain fondness for it.

For Sirius, stalking you can be pretty easy. He's an animagus, after all, and people won't really question seeing a stray dog on Hogwarts grounds. Soon enough you'll start to call this dog a friend with how often you see him, unaware that it's Sirius trying to get close to you.

Don't worry, Sirius quite enjoys the pets.

For James and Remus, though, it can be more difficult to stalk you.

While James is an animagus, his is much less discreet than Sirius's. He can't exactly follow you around without getting a lot of weird stares. A giant stag isn't as normal to see in the hallways of Hogwarts as a dog is.

However, when you're going for a walk outside through Hogwart's spacious grounds or are attending a Care for Magical Creatures class, you will occasionally see James following you around.

While it may be a bit odd to see a stag, you can't really question it when it's out in nature, can you? After all, Hogwarts is home to quite a few non-magical animals too.

And poor Remus doesn't really have a good way to stalk you discreetly. Unlike his friends, he's not an animagus. His lycanthropy is only during the full moon, and he never does have control of himself then.

Instead, he just does so the normal way.

However, despite Remus not really having a subtle way to stalk you, he would likely be the one to figure out the others are doing it first.

As I said, he's the last to fall, and he knows his friends quite well.

His way of stalking forces him to be smart. He has to stay hidden in fear of you or someone else seeing him.

Considering this, Remus is likely the first to spot the others while they're all stalking you, and it was funny seeing the familiar forms of a dog and a stag following you out on your walk.

Sirius was the next to figure it out. His animagus has the sharpest nose out of them, so smelling both Remus and James close by was a dead giveaway.

And James, as focused as he was on you, was quite confused when Sirius and Remus cornered him suddenly, and he was afraid that they might snitch on him.

Only for Remus to spill out exactly what's been happening. How each one of them has been obsessing over and stalking you for months now.

It doesn't take long for them to come to an agreement. The three of them are about the only people each of them would share their darling with, with only a couple of exceptions.

The amount of trust they have in each other is unrivaled, and soon, so is their ability to woo, and if necessary, kidnap their darling.

As a unit, these three are very dangerous.

#yandere #yandere harry potter #yandere james potter #yandere remus lupin #yandere sirius black

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chaeiimimi · 1 year

Text

ex(?) jjk men headcanons

GOJO SATORU

the AUDACITY you have to break up with him, it’s your loss, not his...or is it?

WRONG please collect your man he is literally a mess (have mercy on Ijichi and Nanami)

the two guys are having an earful of Gojo’s dramatic rants and sudden mood swings

“I am Gojo Satoru the strongest sorcerer to ever exist, I am a god, no woman is going to break me”

“what am I supposed to do Nanami? *hic* she’s the love of my life *hic**sob* my lifeline, I can’t possibly *hic* live without her”

doesn’t let your breakup affect his work though but is very annoying and distracting to work with

“baby please take me back,” he says literally whenever he sees you ‘

let’s be honest here, who are you to reject the one and only Gojo Satoru when he gives you the puss in boots eyes?

he would reflect on that fight and makes sure he doesn’t commit the same mistake again will show you how sorry he is in many ways from material gifts to acts of service and sweet language

NANAMI KENTO

very less likely that you’ll break up with him, but if it does happen, he’ll act like the mature man he is... well...

gives you enough time and space to cool off and wear down the intense emotions, but he doesn’t agree to a breakup in the middle of a fight or an argument when emotions are running high

is very cautious when interacting with you during your “cool off”

people don’t really notice because you’re not really the type to engage in PDA, it’s just between the two of you, no lingering touches when standing side by side in a group setting, no subtle smiles when crossing paths, no discreet eye signals when one of you want to say something to the other, no random trinkets and snacks on your desk, no random love notes on his as well, no phone calls, texts, random selfies being sent and many of the subtle ways you show your love to each other

and it was driving Nanami crazy, he came up with different excuses to see you, like oh he happened to be at the same café you’re in during breakfast, he needed a shirt that he left at your house, he needs to know how your pet goldfish is doing, he was surveying your apartment for “research”

you caught on pretty much instantly and confronted him about it, he pretty much scratches the back of his nape and reluctantly admits it

a sudden relief washes over him when he heard you chuckle and felt your arms encircling his waist “you’re so cute love, god, I miss you”

would kiss you passionately, even if it’s in public (cue the look of disbelief on the high schoolers’ eyes)

kinda went ham on Nanami but anyways... should I write more jjk?... if I should pls send some suggestions on my ask box.. stay healthy and happy <3

#jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #nanami kento x reader

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writerpeach · 2 years

Text

Pet - Part Three

Choi Yena x m!reader

word count: 8.7k

---

Read on AFF

Read on AO3

part one

part two

Saturday night at the izakaya wasn’t your favorite place to be on the weekend, but it had its own share of benefits—cheap beer, the friendliest bartenders, and the best fried chicken in the city.

Sitting down at your usual spot, the small table in the corner practically had your name written on it, far enough away from the heavy chatter, yet still close enough to grab a bartender’s attention if needed. Icy cold mugs filled with beer, several side dishes, and a centerpiece of juicy, fried chicken packed the table.

Drinking with Yena didn’t happen often, usually reserved for special occasions, but an exhausting week deserved just that, especially with a table filled to the brim with delicious food that didn’t last long.

Yena was unusually quiet, and that made you suspicious—you knew she was planning something up her non-existent sleeve.

After downed beers, and emptied plates, one last piece of succulent chicken remained that went to Yena at your insistence. Of course, she couldn’t just savor every last bite quietly, and had to make a show by licking her fingers clean. Politeness went out the window as it often did with Yena, but she never cared—not when it gave her an excuse to make a lewd display of slurping her messy fingers one by one.

Yena's chicanery had diminishing returns.

Nothing really pushed your buttons like before, and you still had something up your sleeve if Yena got too out of line.

As expected, Yena selfishly ordered one more thing—her favorite dessert, a bowl filled with the biggest scoop of vanilla ice cream, chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and extra sprinkles. Excessive for sure, and normally you’d warn her about so many sweets this late, but when she looked so happy after that first bite, you didn’t bother. Not like she would listen, anyway.

“Mmm, it’s so good,” Yena said, borderline moaning while she took a rather large spoonful. Traces of ice cream frosted her lips that she licked off, towing the line with another obscene gesture. “This whipped cream is delicious, too. It tastes much better than the one you licked off my tits the other night.”

There really weren't any barriers Yena wouldn’t cross, but any attempt held little weight when the bar stayed loud and rowdy. Not that it dampened the smirk on Yena’s little mischievous lips when dipped her toe into the deep end. “But it doesn’t taste as good as master’s huge hard cock.”

Before now, anything Yena tried would warrant an instant reaction, with cheeks embarrassingly redder than the cherry on her ice cream. But these days, her teasing behavior held little power other than eliciting a chuckle, while you held all the power in your hands with one little app.

Yena was oblivious to the phone in your hands, too immersed in a different world of sugary bliss. Somehow, she had forgotten about the pink bullet shoved between her legs, but you’d give a blunt refresher. After a couple of taps on your screen, it hummed to life—a gentle reminder you held all the cards.

When the sensations hit, Yena’s eyes went wide as you jogged her memory. A single, solitary jolt, and oh shit etched on her face, put an even bigger smirk on your face. Then the best part—an audible gasp that Yena failed to cover with her hand, instead dropping the spoon against the edge of her bowl, the loud clank against the rim unfortunately too muted to hear in a crowded bar.

Ignoring Yena’s embarrassed gaze, your fingers danced with the slider that controlled the toy between her legs, changing between various speeds before dropping down to something barely noticeable.

“Master—”

Yena tried to be discreet. Even at a low level, she couldn’t sit straight with the unforgiving pulsations running through her needy little cunt. You loved seeing her squirm, a subtle consequence for her actions that turned her face beet red, but not because of the beer that had infiltrated her system.

With her gaze held front and center, Yena didn’t move a muscle, yet felt like the entire bar had eyes on her, desperately trying to contain her moans, which honestly made the challenge even more arousing.

Catching her breath, Yena could deal with the low dull vibrations that gave little pleasure, if any. The uncertainty drove her crazy—the abrupt changes from a stable buzz to short taps, then elongated surges, left her unable to expect when the next morsel would arrive.

“Master, p-please,” Yena whined, and let out a breathy moan while she closed her legs tight. Unsurprisingly, it did little, but kept a smile on your face that only widened as you upped the intensity to max level for a heartbeat before dropping it back down.

“Oh fuck!” Yena caught her mouth this time, but nearly toppled over. One of your rules was never leaving the house wearing panties, but this was the rare exception where you deemed it necessary to do so. By the time you left, they’d be ruined anyway.

You only granted a short-lived respite, turning the toy off just long enough before Yena’s body could cool down, making sure not to form any type of recognizable pattern. Like a game of chess, the goal was to always keep her guessing, and the intensity became a roller coaster of stimulation. Helpless and flustered, Yena sat there moaning under her breath, and tried not to cause much commotion while she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Easier said than done.

“M-master, please,” Yena softly begged, with desperation in her eyes. “There’s a bathroom right there. Lock the door, and then you can take this vibe out of me and shove your big cock inside me. Wouldn’t you rather fuck me senseless instead? Or pull my hair while you pound me and wrap your strong hands around my throat?”

Yena was wasting her breath. No amount of puppy dog eyes or batting eyelashes would goad you into withdrawing from your plans. Denial was the game here, and Yena would be at the mercy of your whims until further notice.

“Not a chance, kitten. You’re going to stay here until your ice cream is all gone.”

Frustration had never been so clearly etched on Yena’s adorable face than it had now. For her, it was a deadly enemy, but for you; a powerful ally, one that helped you retaliate against her persistent need to act out. Making matters worse was knowing the in and outs of her body, what her limits were, and how best to breach them. Saying you were having the time of your life toying and teasing Yena would be an understatement.

Through all this constant stimulation, Yena tried to finish the last spoonfuls of ice cream in a feeble attempt to distract herself and gain some peace, like her pussy wasn’t throbbing helplessly.

“What’s the matter, kitten? Too much? Too bad. Those pretty blue panties you wore before I shoved this up your little cunt must be so drenched right now, right?”

It was hard not to laugh when you had the upper hand.

The agony on her face grew clearer than day, and you almost felt bad for her. Almost. Yena couldn’t think straight, and really picked the wrong night to wear a short dress, dripping down her clenched thighs after each torturous vibration. She’d soak through the useless fabric between her legs soon enough.

Staring at the wall became Yena’s only defense, no longer maintaining eye contact as she white- knuckled and became best friends with the edge of the table. If only the bar patrons knew what was happening at your isolated corner. Not like Yena wouldn’t get off even more from it. Regardless, you could watch Yena falling apart at the seams for a lifetime.

Of course, you wouldn't actually allow Yena the sweet satisfaction she craved. As tempting as getting Yena off in a crowded room of people in various states of inebriation would be, it was much more fun stringing her along, a perpetual carrot on a stick. At this point, the ice cream in Yena’s bowl had been entirely forgotten, and melted into a creamy puddle, an imitation modeled after the poor squirming girl herself.

You figured Yena had one more round left before the real begging started—the desperate cries, frantic pleas, and last resort offerings, but you’d never give them any attention. Given the chance, Yena would crawl naked without hesitation from one side of the bar counter to the other just for a chance of release.

So this time, you doubled your efforts, and kept the vibrators settings hovering around the upper intensity, cautious not to push her too over the edge that she couldn’t come back down.

In this state, it was easy to rile her body back up the same way, an endless tease that robbed her of an orgasm over and over again, and the look on her face after every denial was a perfect picture you would never forget.

Yena couldn’t hold out much more, only staring into nothingness while she bit her trembling lip in a last ditch effort to quell the desire between her legs. Her whole body felt like it was on fire, but sooner or later, it would end. One way or another.

Yena wasn’t even sure she could get off at this point despite everything, so frustrated, yet so turned on, being toyed like this. The ache in her core wouldn’t leave, leaving her so dripping wet that maybe, just maybe, if she just shifted the right way—

“Don’t even think about it, kitten.”

Yena wasn’t against playing dirty so she could get herself off without permission, and you knew she would try anything to bend the rules, so you shut the toy off well before anything resembling an orgasm could happen, making Yena let out the biggest whimper of the night.

“Master!”

“Kitten, your ice cream isn’t finished.”

A quick change of subject, and while it was the least of her worries right now, it still made Yena‘s lips pout when she looked into an empty bowl of disappointment. “But it’s all melted.”

“Is that my problem? I told you to finish it before we leave.”

Too frustrated to bring forth more complaints, Yena complied while she slurped up the rest of her ice cream like a proper kitten. Without words, she sat in silence, thankful for a break from the throbbing between her legs, despite the peaceful moment doing nothing to settle her dripping center.

“Sit there, kitten. Keep your hands on the table, and just think about me fucking you on this table. Think about how I’d bend you over, rip those ruined panties off you, and let everyone here see what a drenched little slut you are.”

Yena wouldn’t hold back from making a mess underneath her seat with such an active imagination. Despite the lack of vibration, she felt an increased arousal that was difficult to manage.

“Kitten wants that, don’t you? You want everyone here to watch me use your pretty little cunt? You know I don’t like being gentle with you. I’d pound you so hard until the entire room could hear you scream. They’d all be so jealous, wouldn’t they?”

“God, master—please, fuck me right here! Fuck me so everyone can see what a whore I am for master’s cock!”

Fantasies be damned, it was pitiful they could never become reality. “I’d slap your tight little ass so hard, pull your hair, and just ram my cock inside you. I’d make you cream on my cock so many times, and I wouldn’t even make you ask for permission.”

Yena really couldn’t take it. With feral thoughts of being stretched in public drove her crazy, she clenched around the unmoving toy. Now seemed like the perfect time to turn it back on, but you skipped any sense of build-up and went straight for the highest setting—straight for the killing blow.

Once more you tested Yena’s core, and you only lowered the intensity one solitary time, before spiking it back up. If she made it over ten seconds, then well—maybe she’d be in luck.

“Look at me, kitten,” you demanded, and she shifted her gaze to you. Yena could barely close her mouth, let alone keep her focus on one spot, and surely you would let her finally grab what she wanted…

But you continued driving her imagination wild. “After kitten came on my cock so many times like a greedy little slut, you’d beg me to finish inside, wouldn’t you?” Yena frantically nodded. She was so close, about to explode that just anything would set off her imminent release.

“Oh my fucking god—”

“Kitten would moan so much when I fill you with a nice thick load, and every person here could watch it drip out of you. They’d all get to see how much I pump inside you every day, wouldn’t they? They’d all get to see what a good little cum dump kitten is.”

“Master! I’m going to—”

Maybe you’d give Yena what she wanted—if only she acted like a good girl.

“Cum?” you interrupted with a devilish grin before you switched the toy off and shoved your phone back into your pocket. “No, kitten. You’re not.”

The last denial drove Yena to the point of insanity, further on the brink of gushing through the seat, accompanied by tears that welled up in her pretty lust-filled eyes.

“Please, master!”

It wasn't like it wasn’t Yena’s fault that she was in this situation, nor was it against her will to have a small vibrator placed inside her pussy before you even left the house. But the endless teasing, lewd gestures, and lack of discretion to let anyone in earshot know how badly she wanted to be railed. It all tallied up, and it was time to pay.

Perhaps this was the best way to enjoy a bar, bringing your own brand of fun. Emptying little by little, the place grew into a quiet calm. Closing time was imminent. You had gotten everything out of the evening, even though it was the opposite for Yena.

“We’re leaving, kitten.”

“Wait, I almost—” Pointless protests wouldn’t be answered, regardless of how effortless it would be for Yena to achieve her desired outcome. The risk factor wouldn’t be worth it with fewer people left.

Trapped in purgatory was a worse outcome than Yena had bargained for, and the littlest movement might set off a tidal wave of an explosion, which without exception would be suitable for punishment.

“Don’t care. We’re getting out of here,” you said, apathetic to another outcry, and gently grabbed Yena to stop any further objection. Left behind was a puddle of arousal, impossible to miss, but for all anyone knew, it was nothing more than spilled beer.

Before leaving, you spotted the bathroom Yena suggested, and just for a second you considered it. But again, only good girls deserved that.

✦ ✦

“Bedroom, kitten.”

As soon as you spoke, Yena obeyed without opposition. Woefully unaware of what was next, she walked towards the bedroom, taking small, graceful steps, and disappeared inside.

You followed one step behind, and without instruction, Yena dropped to her knees on the carpeted floor. Still on edge from every tortuous denial, she looked up silently, her heart beating faster while anxiously awaiting orders.

In public, Yena would do her worst to disobey, to push your buttons, to draw out your patience, but once she stepped foot inside this room, her bratty demeanor vanished. She would follow anything explicitly ordered with zero doubt or hesitation.

“Good girl.”

Yena beamed at two brief words, waiting with bated breath, in her favorite position—on her knees where she felt right at home.

“Want your cock, master.” If that was her opening statement, it was a rather pitiful display of words.

“Doesn’t sound like you want it.”

The pout etched on her face alongside dark, widened eyes told a different story. “But I do, master! I need it so bad. Please, master—need my throat filled with your delicious, yummy cock. Just thinking about it makes my mouth water.”

She could do better, but it was a start. You’d make her beg properly when the time was right, but right now—you needed those burdensome clothes removed from her tight little body.

“Strip for me and you might get it.”

Not missing a beat, Yena obediently surrendered control like you had trained her to. “Yes, master."

Back on her feet, Yena didn’t dawdle, and lowered the straps of her colorful dress down her shoulders before pulling it off, letting gravity finish the job. Underneath, you could see the pale, smooth skin of her toned body covered by a black lace bra, and the highlight of her figure—soft, ample breasts that bounced with the slightest movement.

You interrupted for a quick heartbeat while your eyes roamed the beautiful skin available, and couldn’t help but mark her up. Starting at her neck, where you bit hard enough to leave a bruise, you left a matching mark on the opposite side, then slowly moved downwards to the curve of her collarbone. After several deep, slow, deliberate sucks that brought a loud gasp from Yena, you circled back around again to kiss each reddened mark, before gliding your tongue down to suck just underneath, leaving a plethora of little love bites on her bare flesh.

“Who do you belong to, kitten?”

“I belong to you, master. Kitten is an object for pleasure, my body is always available for master’s use at any time.”

“Good girl,” you said, then swiped your tongue over the red spots that had formed over Yena’s creamy skin, and gestured for her to continue.

Yena made an exhibition out of her body, flaunting every deadly curve that your eyes wandered, from the curve of her hips, to her wonderful flat midriff, then that amazing full chest, every inch a sculpted masterpiece. Patience wasn’t something you had in wealth, so while you watched with approval, Yena reached behind her back, unhooked her black bra, and freed her large breasts from their confines.

The reveal of her scrumptious tits never got old. More than perfect, your eyes feasted on beautiful, heavy mounds that widened your eyes, that barely fit in your hands, and you wasted no time giving a delicate squeeze.

Her rosy nipples were erect and perky, which came as no surprise, ready for attention, eager to be touched and tasted. Whimpers left Yena’s pouty lips when you flicked each sensitive nub, and the littlest touch of your tongue against them sent shivering pleasure up her spine.

“Ah, master!”

Yena’s swollen breasts were extra sensitive on a normal day, but after dozens of orgasms robbed from her all in one night, a gentle breeze would be more than enough to set her off.

So after a little more teasing with your tongue, you sucked on her breasts, lips sealed shut around each nipple. Over time, suction turned more aggressive, drawing out more gasps that made you slurp with satisfaction, grazing your teeth against Yena’s nipples and proceeded to downright devour her delicious breasts.

Yena was so wet she could hardly keep herself from squirming as you sucked harder, and tested her sensitivity by giving her nipples another tug. She gasped, her toes curling into the plush of the carpet, but your mouth stayed latched on to her scrumptious tits, switching back and forth until you covered both in marks, bites, and abundant saliva that added to her arousal.

You thrived on the cries of pleasure that escaped Yena’s lips while you suckled on her stiff nipples. It would be so effortless to make her fail, yet undeserved to make her climax with such ease. With clenched thighs and gritted teeth, Yena held on, desperate to prevent an unpermitted orgasm.

“M-master—” The moans she made only further formed a smile on your face.

“Hands behind your back, kitten.”

She obeyed instantly, hands cuffed together behind her back in an imaginary bound. Your lips curled into a devilish smirk, and squeezed her tits harshly, then slapped each in succession, watching them jiggle and savored the pathetic little whines she made.

Once more, you repeated this, and aimed your palm directly at her taut nipples that made the perfect target—again, twice, three more times, taking advantage of the thriving sensitivity that shot like lightning through Yena.

You could do this over and over, but you were done playing with her tits—for now. The painful bulge that formed in your pants needed to be dealt with, and there wouldn’t be a better way to find relief other than Yena.

But you didn’t let her off without exploring the nakedness that blessed your eyes. After one more greedy squeeze of her chest, your hands traveled down her stomach, felt up her tight abdomen, then gripped her hips before pressing two fingers to her clothed core with a new wetness that made her body shiver.

“Kitten, get on the bed.”

Another order that Yena respected, as she looked away from you while doing as told, climbing the bed at your bidding. Bent over in the most appetizing way, the thong draped around her hips nestled between milky-white cheeks, and looked so utterly appetizing that you gave her backside a necessary sharp smack that made Yena yelp.

Taking her time, Yena laid down flat on her stomach, and you pulled your shirt off to reveal your bare chest that Yena loved to kiss and worship. Her mouth filled with saliva as you slipped your jeans off, your bulge dominating her view.

Yena had to control herself, or risked being caught in a trance. After she helped tug your underwear off and tossed them aside, she licked her lips while staring at your shaft that leaked with precum, eyes full of anticipation. But even her patience had limits—she couldn’t take her eyes off your hardened cock, craving it like an addict going through withdrawals, desperate for a fix.

It put a wide grin on your face when you stroked your shaft mere inches from those cock-hungry lips—just enough to make her moan with pangs of jealousy.

“Want a taste?”

The question was painfully unnecessary, but a timid nod still came as a response.

“Use your words, kitten.”

“I’m so hungry for your cock, master. Please, I’ve been waiting so-so-so long for you to fill my throat. Just shove it right down. Don’t be gentle. Grab my head and fuck my mouth until I can’t even fucking breathe.”

Yena’s eyes grew larger and larger as she put on her best performance. “Please, master—let me choke and gag and drool on your throbbing cock. Make my throat bulge, use my body for your own pleasure. Just cover me in your cum from head to toe, then fill my tummy with your hot, thick load. I’ll swallow every drop, I promise! Please, please, please!”

Begging like that was always so goddamn satisfying, and you would reward Yena for her efforts. One more stare into her lust-drowned eyes, and you granted what she earned—a throbbing shaft that fit perfectly in her delicate hands.

Her bright eyes kept their attention on your length, refusing to look elsewhere. Yena gripped the base of your cock like it was a delicate package, astonished at your size.

"Master feels so hard," Yena said in awe, maintaining eye contact. When she first stroked your cock with a deft touch, it twitched between her fingers.

She kept a smile etched on her features, while her hand tightened around your shaft, trying to wring out every bit of pleasure. Delicate pumps turned into firm, repeating strokes, as Yena savored every inch with impatience in her eyes. Her wet tongue slid alongside your length, and she puckered her lips into a chaste kiss on your swollen cockhead, making you groan with such an indulgent act.

“Delicious,” Yena said, before her tongue licked your leaking slit. Lapping anything that escaped, her mouth traveled down your length in a trail of wet kisses, covering your shaft all over with an audible mwah every single time her glossy lips met flesh.

Now that Yena had what she desired, she wouldn’t waste a second. Cherishing the weight of your throbbing length on her hot tongue, she painted a road of warm saliva up and down, with her lips gliding up both sides, sending vibrations when she hummed around it.

“Thank you, master,” Yena graciously said in between eager, appreciative smooches. “Thank you so much for letting me worship your beautiful, perfect cock.”

Those words of praise weren’t something Yena used up, and each set of tender licks and messy smacks accompanied more compliments of your stiff member. “Master, I love how good your cock tastes in my mouth. It feels amazing between my lips. I wish I could just gulp down your hot, sticky loads forever and ever.”

But for now, Yena rubbed your cock on her needy lips, continuing to stare longingly at you, with hot breath on your shaft. Her hands kept occupied; one stroked your shaft, the other taking great care to massage your balls, a well-oiled machine of bliss that worked together like a dream.

Yena was getting a bit daring, but you couldn’t complain when her lips parted and brought you inside the heavenly warmth of her mouth. The sharp spikes of pleasure that followed elicited a groan louder than expected, and she sucked greedily on your tip, hollowing her cheeks.

It was what her mouth was made for, after all. Those selfish lips—those gorgeous, dick-sucking lips wrapped so well around your throbbing shaft as Yena sucked on your engorged head, causing a torrential spike of intoxicating pleasure.

The way Yena casually bobbed her head while her wet mouth slobbered on your dick had never felt better, and before you knew it, you were firmly down her throat as she took you deeper, doing her absolute best to please you. She sucked you off with those sweet innocent eyes glued to your gaze, and her devotion to swallowing you down her throat was second to none.

But just like Yena was selfish, so were you, even more so.

“Kitten…”

“Yes, master? Am I making you feel good?” she asked, with a strand of saliva spilling down her chin. She really was—goddamn she was, but you needed more than just a pretty set of lips around your cock, and you had no qualms on taking what you needed.

“God, I really need to fuck your throat,” you groaned. It wasn’t a request, and you weren’t asking—you needed to bury your length deep inside Yena’s warm mouth fucking now.

Her eyes lit up brighter than ever. After a handful more firm strokes, loud slurps, and wet licks, she pulled her warm mouth from your cock, and rolled on her back, scooting towards you enough until her head was hanging upside down off your firm mattress.

Such a pretty upside-down mouth never looked so good at this angle, so much so that you couldn’t resist rubbing your cock on her glistening lips, then rested your entire length on her beautiful face. Yena moaned at the thick, heavy flesh, like a treat dangling as a reward for her patience that she had none left.

“You can fuck my throat all night, master,” Yena insisted between swipes of her tongue on your shaft and balls. It was all you needed to hear as you plunged your length deep into Yena’s inviting throat in one swift motion, and groaned out loud when Yena choked on your shaft.

Now that you had full control of her throat, it was time to go all in, even as the sensations of her warm mouth that surrounded your shaft sent your senses reeling. After taking a deep breath, you gathered yourself, then slowly pumped your hips, sending your throbbing cock into the slippery depths of Yena’s throat that tightened around your length.

“Fuck, kitten! Fuck, just stay like this while I use your throat.”

Not like she could really do much, but the new position made it more of a pleasure to thrust into her mouth, every forceful plunge hitting balls deep with ease. When Yena dug her fingers into the silk sheets underneath, you knew she wanted to touch herself, but she didn’t deserve that—not without your needs being attended to first.

So without mercy, you rammed the entirety of your cock down Yena’s throat, and made her choke again, and again, and again, until the sounds became muffled by your thick cock buried inside. How rough you were was not a concern—it never was, since Yena always had the option to tap out, but showed no signs to do so.

Free to do as you pleased, you used her warm, hungry mouth like a toy, built only to serve your pleasure, with her occupied throat working like crazy and her mouth watering from all the messy leftover spit.

Your pretty toy became a string of sputtering gags and forceful coughs, an endless loop of gurgling that grew louder even after Yena relaxed. She welcomed each rough thrust that stuffed her throat, yearning for more while you worked her throat, until her mouth became wetter, and streams of saliva covered her lips that clung to her face.

Moving now at a relentless pace, the thrusts that Yena swallowed up were quick and brutal, sending a combination of tears and ruined mascara spilling from her eyes as you forced your length deeper down her throat without mercy. Your hips were ruthless, unconcerned, absolutely careless, and that was the only way Yena liked it.

Meanwhile, the bountiful chest inches from your face presented itself for your viewing pleasure, and you took advantage and played with Yena’s tits. Capturing them filled your fingertips with the softest flesh imaginable, as the satisfying wet sounds of her throat being fucked were all you heard.

In the meantime, you took a slight breather, allowing Yena ample opportunity to gasp for air and recover. Yet, she wasn’t concerned with gathering back oxygen, opting instead to latch her warm messy lips on your balls while you stroked yourself.

“Ah fuck, kitten, fuck! I just—I just need to destroy your fucking throat.” Yena knew how to handle your cock after all, so without another word, you guided your dick into her impatient mouth once more, then proceeded to slam back in, harder and faster than before.

Off the bat, your pace grew much more frantic, more ferocious, but it still wasn’t enough for Yena, and she reached for your thighs, urgently pulling you deeper down her throat. The needy squeezes she gave your thighs signaled to up the ante, despite your messy plunges nearing the maximum level of roughness. Still, you escalated your efforts, determined to ruin what remnants of makeup were left on her features.

Her throat became a symphony of sinful sounds; the most beautiful, ecstasy-filled, unadulterated wet noises, choking on your length like she had something to prove. The wetter your cock got, the more unhinged your hips became, raining down powerful thrusts into Yena’s needy little mouth. With ceaseless momentum, she greedily devoured every inch, her throat bulging beautifully with every movement you took.

During this all, your pretty little pet was a mess. A beautiful, disheveled mess, checking off all the boxes with ruined makeup, watery eyes, and saliva that spilled uninterrupted, thanks to the continuous barrage of harsh thrusts into the messy depths of her throat.

Your limits were on the cusp of being breached, a dizzying upward spiral, and it took a herculean effort to hold on. “Kitten, fuck, I’m so close. Your throat just feels too damn good.”

Maybe if her eyes weren’t filled with tears, you could see the glint in them.

Pressing on, you knew where Yena wanted your release. It was obvious she wanted her mouth full with your hot load, and if it were up to her, she’d beg and plead to guzzle your cum, but it wasn’t—only good girls deserved to swallow.

In the heat of it all, you found the self-control to withdraw from Yena’s tight, raw throat, leaving copious amounts of saliva in your path, as you took furious strokes towards the point of no return.

“Is master going to paint my face?” Yena asked, while she slurped on your balls to further encourage your release, her tongue sliding across the underside. Even covered in spit, the look on her face begged for it and you couldn’t say no.

“Master has been making me wait all night. Please cover me in cum, master. Cover kitten in your huge, thick load until it's dripping down my face. Kitten needs it so badly, please, please…”

Your eruption didn’t take long—the tightness in your core flew past the breaking point, off the rails, until it snapped like a twig.

Yena waited patiently, tongue out, while you used her face as a canvas, unloading on her gorgeous features with an initial burst of hot, viscous spurts that landed on her chin and coated the side of her neck. The rest of your load glazed her cute nose and cheeks, before you showered down semen on Yena’s remarkable, well-used lips and sent creamy bursts into her inviting mouth.

You let her take over, her delicate hand stroking vigorously to drain everything from your balls as she finished up your orgasm, ensuring every dribble and drop landed either on her face or in her mouth. Yena basked in the moment, while she savored being bathed in the heavy load that began to drip down her cum-soaked skin, grateful for every last drop.

“Thank you, master. It feels so warm…”

Lying in bliss, she licked her lips to taste what was available in reach, then used her fingers to greedily scoop up the results of your orgasm into her mouth, before she took a few more sloppy swipes with her tongue to polish off your shaft.

“So good, master. Your cum always tastes so good, so warm down my throat. Kitten wants more.”

Greedy as always. Yena would get more, but it wouldn’t be in her mouth. Not today. Judging by the way she stroked your cock and kept your erection strong, Yena had energy in heaps to spare, still wet and dripping on the mattress. You knew she was dying to cum, and it was time to reward her patience.

One last look at her disheveled face, then you joined Yena on the bed, where you planned to give everything and more—a merciless, much-needed fucking. Dragging her back enough so she was halfway on the mattress again, you peeled her panties off in one fell swoop, tossing the tiny vibrator between her legs out of sight.

“Kitten, pick a color."

Yena needed little time to consider her choices and went with the default favorite. “Pink, please.”

“Good choice. Don’t move.” You lifted her slender arms above her head, pinning both wrists together. After placing a kiss on each, you locked them together with a pair of pink fuzzy handcuffs that made a loud distinct click, securing her hands in place. Yena was fully at your whims now.

Flashing a smile of reassurance, you cupped Yena’s face, using your thumbs to rub soothing circles against her cute cheeks. “Too tight, kitten?”

“No, master. You can do anything. Have your way with me,” she said, her husky voice rich with unbridled desire, and you hadn’t heard a better set of words. As you lowered down to Yena’s wonderful hips, her legs spread on instinct, and you stared at her gorgeous, glistening pussy, every beautiful inch of bare skin rejuvenated your body like a pure shot of adrenaline.

No more time left for teasing or holding anything back, you took in the view, with every flawless inch of Yena’s naked body available at your disposal to be tasted, marked, or defiled, in that specific order. With your intentions set, you lifted Yena’s smooth legs up onto your shoulders, and guided your stiffer than ever shaft towards her welcoming heat.

When you lined yourself up, you didn’t question if Yena was ready—the look of absolute desperation told you everything words couldn’t. There was no easing in, no gentleness to spare while you nudged against her slippery entrance, and in one smooth stroke you filled Yena to the hilt.

She groaned loud enough to echo along the walls, and without warning, your hips snapped hard enough that your cock slammed into Yena’s slick warmth with force that rocked her whole petite frame.

“Oh, oh f-fuck, master!” It was the first real taste of pleasure she’d had all night that wasn’t a toy, and just one harsh thrust overwhelmed her. Guided by warm, heavenly wetness, your shaft filled Yena, then exited until the tip of your cock stayed inside her, making her tight little cunt clench around you, then repeated it all over while you found a rhythm to your liking.

“How does that feel, kitten?” you asked, the repetitive motion of your hips letting you plunge deeper into Yena’s warmth. In no time, you were pounding her senseless as the bed creaked in protest with your frantic movements.

Yena had a hard time finding the right words for a moment, and with her cuffed hands she scrambled to grab a double fistful of sheets. “So good, master. Master’s cock feels so thick, so deep. I love being split open like this! Kitten feels so good, so stretched!”

Her sense of enjoyment encouraged you to go even harder, to sink your cock deeper until it bottomed her out, only pulling back long enough to slam Yena into the mattress again. Sounds of rhythmic slaps of your thighs crashing together echoed throughout the room, and she moaned and moaned while your strokes became harsher and more frenzied.

“So fucking tight, kitten. This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“Y-yes, master! Please don’t stop!” she begged, but you wouldn’t dream of it. Yena clenched more the harder you fucked her, letting out breathless moans over and over as you kept her slick warm walls filled with every last inch of your throbbing shaft.

Hitting her sweet spot never came as a challenge, and you did it so often with ease that her draped legs trembled nonstop. Little time passed since you slipped inside Yena, but given her fragile state, it came as a surprise that she hadn’t immediately gushed on your cock upon your first entry. Regardless, you could sense Yena was near, so without hesitation you leaned forward until her ankles lined up above her head, fucking her in a way that your constant plunges felt even deeper while her feet dangled in the air.

“Master, oh fuck, master fucks me so well!” Yena cried out, and couldn’t hold on much longer,

her orgasm building like a dam about to burst. The two of you locked eyes, and you knew what was next, what was inevitable—but you wouldn’t deny her this time, not when she looked so desperate and needy. With the sweat on her legs collecting on your fingertips, more clenches followed harsher thrusts, Yena had little time left before she tumbled over the edge.

“M-master, kitten needs, kitten needs to—”

Yena needed relief more than air, and three little words set off a nuclear bomb of ecstasy. “Kitten can cum.”

She reached her peak on the spot, so eager, so aching for release, she could taste it. Turning into jelly, her tight body gave in as her eyes shut tight, back arched off the bed, walls pulsating so hard it almost hurt you. Yena let out shrieks as she achieved such a thigh-quivering, toe-curling orgasm she nearly passed out, every bit of her undulating body no longer under her control.

Several moments later, Yena’s body settled down, but that was just the start. You didn’t let up while you fucked her through the tidal wave of an orgasm, as more sharp aftershocks took hold of her body, rapid pulsations still squeezing your length. Another powerful climax ripped through Yena that made her body spasm once more, the fluttering walls around your dick releasing a flood of sweet juice that never seemed to cease.

“Master, please! Too much! Too much!”

The unrelenting nature of your hips refused to listen, while you ignored the begging, and pounded away into Yena hard and rough with your fingers kneading her tits, tugging on her sensitive little nubs until she came again, over and over. Yena could only claw the sheets with her locked hands still over her head, her cunt throbbing in a whole different way, crying out with each new orgasm that gushed more slick on the mattress, soaking through the already stained sheets that turned into a river of arousal.

Yena would have a hard time walking straight in the morning.

Eventually, after the umpteenth climax, you took pity on her and stopped, but not without one more harsh slam into her body. Panting profusely, her sweaty legs flopped to the slick-covered sheets, just like your cock flopped out of her, covered in Yena.

“M-master…” Yena muttered, words barely even audible with her face flushed red, messy bangs clinging to her forehead. “Th-thank you, master. Thank you for letting me cum.”

“Kitten did well, so kitten got a reward,” you said, leaning down to wipe tears from her smudged eyes.

“But master needs to cum again, right?”

An astute observation, even as she had trouble stringing together words, with her limp body at the peak of exhaustion.

“Please, master—fuck me until you cum. Anyway you please.” Her words were weak, but the desire was strong. Yena’s body was all but a useless slump, but that mattered little—all you needed was a tight hole to fill.

“Of course, kitten.” Excited to get started again, you unlocked Yena’s handcuffs, rolled her flat on her stomach, then locked them back up with her arms behind her back. You took in her naked figure for a moment, admiring her cute butt and every detailed curve of her body covered in a layer of sweat from head to toe.

Yena didn’t have enough energy to look back, so she stayed prone with her face buried into the mattress and kept her legs together. On your end, fatigue was miles away when you knelt between her honey-slickened thighs, your erection ready and willing to find its home one more time.

“Kitten looks so pretty like this,” you said, as your swollen tip brushed against her messy folds, the calm before the torrential storm of lust, while you positioned yourself from behind.

The slide back in was anything but gentle—a rough, choppy wave of desire, unleashing a hurricane of thrusts that offered the same level of groans and moans from Yena’s lips.

Round two began with your hands groping Yena’s round, squishy buttcheeks as you pumped with reckless abandon into her slippery wet cunt stretched anew to accommodate your length, the best place for your cock to sheathe into.

You held Yena’s body with a tight grip, plunging into the familiar warmth, and used her taut body as a tool for your selfish pleasure. The constant rippling of her cheeks classified as an act of hypnosis for sure, but you wanted more—and you didn’t waste time in taking it.

From the start, Yena’s moans, whimpers, and cries resonated across the room, growing in volume the harder you went, and without interrupting a single thrust you kept a steady beat, pounding away as she kept her cuffed hands resting on her plump cheeks.

Now, this wasn’t your favorite way to fuck Yena, that award belonged to either the classic mating press, or letting her ride you—where you could lay back, make Yena do all the work, and stare at her perfect breasts as they bounced and bounced. Regardless, this position achieved what you needed—intense, deep penetration with minimal effort, eased by the discernible wetness between her legs.

As your pace amplified, Yena began to stir back to life, slowly recovering after being fucked senseless to a seemingly infinite amount of orgasms, keeping her cheeks spread for you. That didn’t mean she became more than a passive participant, but was content to vocalize how good you felt buried in her dripping pussy, with mewls and cries returning to a state of deep, satisfied moans.

You leaned down to kiss Yena behind the ear, then nibbled on her lobe while you snuck your hands underneath her sweaty frame to cup her tits, her sensitive nipples harder than diamonds against your palms. The walls of her cunt felt even narrower as you plowed through them, her slippery hole choking your length as you pounded her incessantly, making the area between your legs a massive pool of arousal.

Yena’s sweet moans were a metronome to fuck her to, an encouraging rhythm of bouncing cheeks that kept her pinned to the mattress while you used her like a proper fuckdoll.

“Kitten takes me so fucking well. Your pretty little cunt is just made for my cock, isn’t it?”

“Yes, master! Kitten loves being your fucktoy. Please breed me, master, fill my womb, give kitten all your cum!” she pleaded, like you could even imagine pulling out of her, like her wrecked pussy wasn’t desperately trying to coerce everything out of your balls. You just continued to fuck Yena like your life depended on it, with the only surprise being the mattress springs hadn’t given up and the entire bed hadn’t collapsed—but not for lack of trying.

And you’d certainly try. With Yena’s moans and cries of pleasure filling your ears, you gave it everything you had left—sweat dripped down both your bodies, your hips moved with unimpeded force, and your throbbing length impaled her to the hilt until your harshest thrusts made her feel you in her stomach. Fighting through exhaustion, you chased the palpable tightness in your core, fueled by an intense, unyielding inferno of lust, and pumped into Yena with unfettered aggression until you couldn’t take it any longer.

“This tight hole is all mine. Only I get to breed you, only I get to fuck you this hard. God, your pussy just makes me fucking insane. I’m gonna fill your pretty little cunt so fucking deep, and you better keep it in there. Keep that fucking load inside, and don’t you dare let a drop spill out. Understand, kitten?”

Yena nodded without words, silent moans the only thing spoken while she drowned in bliss. Nothing left in the tank, the persistent twitches in your shaft set off sparks, a match to a stick of dynamite of ecstasy in your loins that grew impossible to douse.

Unable to fight back, with a moaning growl, you spilled your seed into Yena’s craving cunt, filling her up with hot, thick spurts in the depths of her womb that made her clenching insides ache for more. Even after your balls ached and your legs burned, your thrusts weakened, yet refused to yield before you forced your sticky warm load deep as it could go.

In a battle between your raging urges to continue and fatigue, fatigue won out in the end. Your hips calmed down, and your breathing followed, ending out your last round by staying dormant inside the creamy, freshly fucked warmth of Yena.

“Good girl, kitten, such a good girl. Kitten did such a good job. Doing okay?”

“Y-yes, master. I’m fine. I loved it,” Yena said, with weakened words and panting breaths. If only you could stay inside her forever, but eventually you’d have to leave the warmth of her cunt to at least to change the sheets—the messy, Yena-stained sheets that weren’t just ruined, they were annihilated, unable to be used again. It was unlikely the bed came out unscathed, but you would worry about that at a later date.

As you removed Yena’s handcuffs and unsheathed from her gripping pussy, your cum slowly leaked out of her, a thick collection of semen that clung to her sweaty thighs and the ruined sheets underneath your exhausted bodies.

“Thank you, master,” Yena said, her words accentuated by shallow breaths. She flipped over on her back, and you rested your cock on her beautiful midriff, ogling at her marvelous breasts that hypnotically heaved up and down, her entire body glistening in sweat.

“Stay here, kitten,” you said, after a soft kiss planted on her forehead. Yena didn’t argue, and you came back swiftly holding a glass of ice water, with a bright yellow straw attached that she downed in one sip.

“Careful, kitten. Don’t choke.”

Yena gently nodded with a tired smile and wiped her mouth before setting up straight on the edge of the bed. The kiss that came after aimed for her plump lips, and after that you stroked her head, then fixed the sweaty strands of hair as best as you could.

“Do you want to take a shower or a bath, kitten?”

“Bath,” Yena said without even thinking. “A warm bath sounds amazing. With extra bubbles!”

“Of course, kitten. I’ll get it started.”

Moments later, running water at the right temperature became covered in suds, with the smell of jasmine and rose filling the room. One step inside the now dimly lit bathroom put Yena at ease, with warm candles illuminating the way as she entered with a bit of a limp in her step.

After your assistance, Yena stepped into the bubbly tub carefully, bending down to test the water, and giggled with glee. You could still see the pretty red marks on her once unblemished skin, each one a stark reminder of who she belonged to.

She soaked in the atmosphere, then lowered herself in until hot water surrounded her, taking a deep exhale while she wrapped her arms around your neck. There wasn’t a more peaceful place to be. Yena closed her eyes, relaxing her sore muscles as the bubbles caressed her skin, her whole body melting under the water in your arms.

Contented sighs and occasional splashes filled the silence as you both stayed silent for a moment, enjoying the relaxing water and warmth. Staring longingly into each other’s eyes, all traces of yearning desire had vanished, replaced with rich admiration towards one another.

“Thank you, master. This is wonderful,” Yena said, inching closer, and you lowered down enough to sink into the soapy water to match her relaxation.

“Kitten deserves it. Kitten did well.” With a soft caress of her face, you brushed a few strands of wet hair away as another round of cute giggles left her lips. After that, you leaned forward until your faces were inches apart, and delivered a kiss devoid of lust, tracing fingertips alongside her smooth naked back that became softer thanks to the warm water. Your touch sent shivers through her spine, and she couldn’t help but blush, unable to look away from your admiring gaze.

“Master, that was—amazing. I came so many times I lost track.” A shy smile appeared on her lips, like she felt suddenly embarrassed.

“Not too rough?”

Yena shook her head from side to side. “No, master. I love it when you’re rough and demanding. God, I can still feel how hard you fucked me. I’m going to be so sore tomorrow…”

The way she said it came with a sense of pride in her voice. “Don’t get too worked up, kitten. I don’t have any energy left.”

Yena laughed softly with pouty lips. “I don’t either, but I just wanna stay here forever.”

“Me too, kitten, but the water will get cold. And you’ll get all pruney,” you said, giving Yena another forehead kiss.

“But we can warm it back up. And I don’t mind as long as you’re here with me, we can be pruney together.” You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as Yena’s compact frame clung to you tighter, burying her face into the crook of your neck.

“We’ll stay a while longer then.” The warm bath wasn’t something you wanted to leave either, so you’d add more hot water as needed, but you wouldn’t go overboard. Eventually, you’d have to clean up and get some rest.

“Thank you, master. You’re the best.” Yena purred into your shoulder. No doubt she’d beg you to rail her again in the morning, but for now, you’d just enjoy the company of each other's naked bodies.

Because Yena was the best pet anyone could ask for.

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