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slvtforfiction · 6 months

Note

Jake Webber smut where he tells you to sit on his face. That would be soooo hot

“Sit,don’t hover.”

☆ Omg anon,ur amazing

☆ Lots of love

☆ Jake Webber X Reader

☆ Pandemic times!

☆ Smut

☆ Masterlist

☆ Hey guys! Before anything else I would ask you to request anything you want because I've lost a lot of motivation and it would really help! :D (if requests are open.)

☆ Creds to @cafekitsune for dividers :)

"Fine, no orgasms and no sex for a week." He told me.

"Does that include masturbating?" I asked him with an innocent smile.

"Yes,Y/n." He snapped back.

Now how did we get here?

Well...

The break down of it being I was being a brat, which then led to him on top of me pinning me down before that sentence left his mouth.

Easy challenge,he will give up so easily, he loves it as much as I do and he won't last 3 days.

Day 1;

We still cuddled up to each other last night but other than that nothing,I gave him 2 days more and he will for sure break.

Day 2;

I barely saw him at all today,he had something to do with Johnnie but I thought when he got home he would have broken that pact,turns out I was wrong.

I'm sticking with my initial impression with 24hours left though.I'm struggling and he seems to be just fine.

It’s killing me to see how easy he thinks this is when I’m beyond tempted to pull a vibrator out of my drawer.

Day 3;

This is killing me,I thought he would have given up, but he hasn't,he hasn't even mentioned it and it's driving me insane.

I can't give up though,l bragged about it to him all day after his said that saying that I would last so much more than him.

Im as stubborn as he is and he knows it.

Day 4;

I'm fucked,he keeps grabbing my thighs and I'm melting,he knows it.

I didn't think he'd last this long,sometimes I can hear him in the kitchen talking to Colby about the challenge and how easy it is.

Day 5;

2 days left and I think Jake will break,he was talking to Colby earlier about how hard it was for him,metaphorically and physically.

Turn of events from yesterday then,I thought to myself with a smile.

He got hard last night,I felt him pressing into me I hoped he was giving up,but nope.

Day 6;

I give up.

He pressed his back into me,his hard on pressing into my ass.

He grabbed something from the cupboard above me in the kitchen and then moved away from me trying to palm himself from the painful boner he wasn't trying particularly hard to hide.

Maybe I won't have to give up?

Maybe he will.

I can only hope.

"Mh how about you fuck me? I know you have a hard on."I told him teasingly.

"You know I can't." He told me continuing to cook.

"Well how about you give up the challenge? You don't want blue balls." I told him with a sly grin forming.

"Fuck off Y/n." He told me angrily.

I smiled and walked away to the sofa reading a book that Kat had gave me for Christmas.

During the Pandemic,christmas wasn't a great time for everyone,very scary at the least.

I heard the oven being switched off but I didn't dare to turn around,so I kept my head buried in my book.

"Stop fucking reading that book and give up the challenge." Jake said into my ear from behind me clearly wanting to fuck.

"Mh,I don't think I will." I told him with a smile slapped across my face before returning to my book.

"You want this as bad as me,I know you do Y/n,I heard you talking to Kat." He told me.

Now I can't lie I did talk to Kat about how I was struggling but I didn't realise Jake was listening behind us.

"And I heard you talking to Colbs,not to mention how you've pressed 2 hard ons into my back side just begging for my attention." I smiled back at him dragging out the 'begging' and turning around to look at him leaving my book on the coffee table.

I hummed at his response of gritted teeth and a clenched jaw.

God he looks beautiful.

I snapped out of it before kissing his Addams apple.

"Hm I'll give up if I can top?" I hummed looking at him. "No,Y/n,Just give up now." He snapped getting extremely sexually frustrated.

I hummed at his response as if saying no and then walked off to the bedroom.

He followed behind me and sat on the bed before I could. “I give up,sit on my face.” He said.

And I smiled turning around,more of a nervous smile to be honest. “What?” I asked unsure if I heard him correctly.

“You heard me,strip and sit.” He told me and I smiled,turning around as I took off my leggings and panties,walking over to the bed where he lied.

I sat on top of the prominent imprint on his trousers,moving my hips around as I smiled at him teasingly.

“Do you give up the challenge?” I asked him,grinding and grinning on top of him. “Yes,for fucks sake,stop being a brat.” He said and with that he lifted my body above him and sat me down on his face.

I lifted myself off slightly not wanting to suffocate him “Sit,don’t hover.” He told me,his voice sending shivers down my spine as the vibrations hit my pussy.

I sat down as he immediately started to lap at my clit. I moaned out of pleasure,my pent up sexual tension leaving my body as I relaxed.

He slipped his tongue in and out of my hole,my body feeling as if I was in heaven.

I relaxed further as he pumped his tongue in and out,his hands holding up my hips as I let him take full control.

“Jake please!” I all but screamed as I felt the knot in my stomach tighten,knowing I wouldn’t be able to stop it from snapping soon enough.

“Cum for me love.” He told me as I came on his face,riding through my high on his tongue.

“Jake please,too much.” I whimpered out as he continued his movements.He flipped me over,his head resting between my thighs as he continued.

I grabbed a hold of his hair,pulling him further into me and simultaneously pushing him away.

I came undone on his tongue again,riding through my high on his face as he let me down gently.

He kissed my thighs as I whined out,the subspace staying engraved into my mind.

He walked into the bathroom to grab a wet cloth to wash his face and clean up my thighs.

He tried his best to gently clean me up,apologising whenever he hit an especially sensitive area.

He laid down next to me,pulling me into his chest and taking his hands through my hair.

“You lost.” I laughed weakly at him as I smiled up at his looking into his eyes.

“Yeah but I’ve won the most beautiful girlfriend in the world.” He told me as he held my head close to him,pulling the covers up with his other hand.

“Go to sleep princess,you deserve it.” He said with a smile,I knew I would make it up to him in the morning I thought as I drifted off.

#spotify #smut #song #romance #cute #fluff #colby brock smut #sam and colby #sam and colby fluff #colby brock #jake webber fluff #jake webber smut #jakewebber #jake webber #jake webber x reader

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wonijinjin · 5 months

Text

in sickness and in health

author’s note: please take care of yourselves everyone! being sick is not fun. dedicating this to my dear @babyleostuff <3

synopsis: when you get food poisoning cheol is ready to sacrifice his night to take care of you.

word count: 1.0k | genre: fluff, comfort | pairing: cheol x gn! reader | warnings: mentions of throwing up, being sick, fever, exhaustion, bad mental health

it was around 12am when you realised something was wrong; you never really got sick, but you could feel it coming before it even happened; head pounding and shivers crawling up and down your spine, making you anxious. after a bit of panicking about why you felt this bad you calmed yourself down and went back to scrolling through social media on your phone, scared of waking and troubling the man next to you. seungcheol was already asleep by that time, being extremely tired from working since 3am, having been to several music show recordings and dance practices. you found him so peaceful as he slept and you were so glad to see him rest after many days of hard work. however as the minutes went by while looking at your phone you could sense an increasing nauseating feeling in your stomach, not being able to focus on the blogpost you were reading anymore, being too occupied with trying to make it stop and squirming under the blankets of your cozy king sized bed to make it more bearable. as if on cue to the peak of your struggles cheol stirred in his sleep next to your helpessly thrashing form, turning to you, his sleepy frame trying to process the cause of your distress. “what’s wrong, my love?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. “don’t worry, nothing. go back to sleep.” you tried to sound as convincing as you could. he didn’t buy it. “love, i know something is up. tell me, please?” he begged, more alert when he saw how your protests were interrupted by a weak sob. “i think i am gonna throw up cheol.” you mumbled with a terrified look on your face, trying to stay perfectly still so your upset stomach could get some relief. seungcheol first thought that you were trying to pull a prank on him since you never got sick, but when he looked at your features closer he realised how pale you looked, and how sweat was glistening on your skin. “you sure? like right now?” he sat up in no time as the question left his mouth, ready to take you to the bathroom to let out whatever was making you feel so miserable. you didn’t have time to answer him whatsoever as you bolted towards the mentioned room, getting to the toilet just in time for the agonising pain and suffering of the next few hours to begin. in your hurry you had a hopeless attempt to lock the door in order to shut cheol out; you hated if he saw you in any other state than your most perfect one, if he saw your imperfections, how you felt unwell sometimes or how you struggled with life from time to time. he always scolded you for thinking this way, but you couldn’t stop it; you wanted to be his strong partner, someone who he could rely on whenever he needed to. “i am coming in.” you heard him say and suddenly you felt a warm hand on your back and another one taking your hair out of your sweaty face, snapping you out of your feverish daze. “i am here, you are okay, love. breathe for me please. that’s it, good. let it all out. don’t worry i am here.” you could hear cheol’s voice through your eardums, blood pumping in your veins with much more speed than ever. seungcheol held you close to him as you spat in the bowl one last time, making sure you were really done before placing you on his lap, your knees no longer hitting the cold tiles of the bathroom, only feeling his warmth surrounding you. “my poor baby.” his voice was low and hurt while he kissed your forehead, frowning upon sensing how your skin burned under his touch. “you are burning up. you definitely have a fever my dear.“ he announced, but you could barely register his voice and words; you were utterly drained, barely able to keep your head up straight.

cheol of course took note of this, gently guiding you to lean into him even more while he got comfortable on the floor, cradling you into his chest. “i know you don’t feel good my love. do you know how did this happen?” he wondered with concern laced in his words. you slightly shifted in his arms, looking up at him. “i think i might have food poisoning, cheol.” he cooed at you, kissing the top of your head, rocking you from side to side as you whimpered in pain. “it’s okay love. it will be over soon i promise.” he chanted softly in an attempt to calm you down as exhaustion took over you, the high temperature making you shake with chills no matter how close seungcheol kept your body to his. “love, you with me?” he questioned after a few minutes of silence, but didn’t get a reply; you fell asleep fast, totally knocked out from the sudden wave of late night sickness. he was relieved to see that your immune system was trying to get that much needed sleep to heal, although he was concerned about the effects of not taking medication before your slumber; he didn’t have the heart to wake you so he let you rest anyways.

he never stopped holding you through the night, not even when he moved you to the bedroom and got a cold towel to put on your head, moving a trash can beside your bed just in case, or when he stayed up all night to watch over your distressed form, wishing that you would get better by the morning, kissing your cheek from time to time to let you know that he was there, that he was gonna take care of you no matter what.

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paymechildsupport · 2 months

Text

I've never done a request before so please bear with me🥲

I was wondering if you could do another Francis Mosses x reader.

I really enjoyed your Spouse!Reader x doppelgänger!Francis and wanted to see your take on D.D.D. trainee!Reader x doppelganger! Francis, where we get sent out to 'take care' of Francis.

Really excited to see what you do with this prompt🙏🏾

>nahhh this is a devious prompt, -- I gotchu 🙏😈🙏😈

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

“Does this please you, Officer?” // Doppel!Francis x DDD Officer Reader

--Doppelgänger!Francis x DDD Reader tasked with his neutralization 🙏

-!! AFAB Reader, -- though genetalia isn't outright explicity stated -(?) -- there is room for your imagination though 😋

-!! CW: nsfw- (smut), ; Dubcon /// Hand-job; sex against a wall; degradation; implied overstimulation

A/N: the number of Francis requests are CRAZY, -- and I completely understand why, -- man's actually majestic <3.

————-

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

...

This was not how you planned to spend your Tuesday night,— grumpy and exhausted, woken up mid-sleep by an emergency dispatch.

“Mm… hello.?” Your groggy voice speaks into the ringing phone, eyes still sticky from sleep.

“Emergency Dispatch: Doppelgänger identified at Complex II,— repeat, doppelgänger identified at complex II,— dispatch agent, neutralize the threat”. They clicked off, leaving you alone in the dark.

Fuuuuuuck….

You fit yourself to your uniform quickly, practically ripping the hazmat suit in an attempt to get inside. Stupid cheap uniform.

Hurriedly, you grabbed your gear before rushing out the door, immediately stopping to softly tiptoe down the hall, (it would be inconsiderate to wake your neighbors at this hour).

You bolt out the complex, trying your best with the minimal light from the lampposts to groggily stumble your way to Complex II. You recall briefly the mention of a new doorman, a rookie. You figured it made sense,— poor new guy’s first day and he’s greeted by what you can assume as a particularly aggressive doppelgänger.

Trudging up to the looming building, you approach the iron bound mechanical door. You can see immediately the shutters to the doorman’s office are closed, bits of movement visible from the gaps in the blinds. The poor dude was in shambles.

You approach the gate, eyes locking on the figure of the doppelgänger,

Hmm, let’s see who it is tonight…

You’re surprised to see the handsome face of your milkman staring back at you, eyes looking as dead as ever. The air was knocked right outta your lungs,— holy shit these doppelgängers were getting good.

Clearing your throat, you address,

“Uh,— right, sir,” you look at the doppelgänger, “I’m gonna need you to come with me.”

He says nothing, opting to just stare. It’s then you notice the gaping hole that was his mouth, the two black chasms that were supposed to be his eyes. From afar, he’d look perfectly normal,— but in the light all the inhuman imperfections stuck out like a sore thumb

Holy smokes that’s hot.

“I’m going to take you with me now,” you don’t even know why you’re telling him this, why the hell were you being all nice with a doppelgänger? Sure, he was good looking,— sure, you were curious what that mouth could do—-

But that’s besides the point.

You approach hesitantly, hooking an arm around ‘Francis’, giving him a light tug to signify him to follow you.

Surprisingly, he does. Without a single word or complaint. He just… stares. With those beady white pupils. It sends a delicious shiver down your spine.

Leading him away, you look over your shoulder at the doorman who just peeked out from behind the shutters, giving him a reassuring thumbs up as you walk away with your new companion.

“Threat neutralized,” you repeat into the bulky walky talky attached to your belt, “order complete, over”. You place it back in its compartment, continuing until you and ‘Francis’ reach the anomaly compound for all things strange and odd.

‘Francis’ looks at the compound with horribly disguised disgust. You only chuckle grinning,

“No no, don’t worry. You aren’t going in there…” he seems to breathe a sigh of relief— if that’s even possible—, before you finish the last bit,

“— don’t worry, I have… other plans for you..”

——

“Strip.”

“Excuse me?” He whirls around, taken aback.

“You heard me, strip”

“And why,” his eyes narrow, “would I do that?”

You shrug, “safety protocol,-- we’re in the decontamination room,-- can’t let you in if your clothes are contaminated, y’know?”

'Francis' is absolutely flabbergasted.

“Oh, and for security measures someone else has to be in the room at all times, – but uh,-” you grin, “we’re a lil’ short staffed at the moment, so it looks like it’ll just have to be you and me.

'Francis' only looks at you through narrowed eye lids, thinking, “and if I refuse?”

“Then I’ll strip you myself” and you step closer to do just that.

'Francis' skitters backwards to the other end of the room, back hitting the wall, “h-hey! No need for that, I’ll do as you ask…” he mutters

Chuckling, “at least you can be obedient”

'Francis' looks away almost bashfully as he begins to undo the buttons on his shirt, fabric peeling away to reveal the pale skin underneath. His hat rests on a nearby bench

“Fully,” you purr, “I want it all off.”

You swear you see the tiniest hint of red tinge his cheeks, and you can’t help but wonder just how advanced this doppelgänger was. Good thing you were about to see for yourself in a moment…

The air is heavy, tense, almost, as 'Francis' slowly undoes the buckle on his belt, pants sliding down to his ankles, – his boxers the only scrap of clothing left hiding him from you.

He wearily regards the way you look at him, not missing the growing flare of hunger behind your eyes,

“Does this please you, officer?” his words are clipped, tension building up behind each one. Biting your lip, your breath almost catches at the way he smiles, teeth a little too sharp to be human.

“No.” The words are thick in your throat, forcing them out a bit of a struggle, “Get rid of the rest of it, now”

He bites his tongue, making no move to do so. In a second you’re on him, pinning his figure to the wall, bodies pressed up together. He has no time to react as you hook two fingers around his boxers, harshly yanking them off.

“Oh.”

Free of the confines of his pants, his erect cock springs loose, tip already dripping with precum.

“Huh.” 'Francis' can’t even turn his head your way, face hot and sweating slightly, “Who would’ve thought,” – your hands curl around him, taking him fully in your fist. His eyes fly to your face, pupils blown and dilated, staring in horrified arousal as you began to knead the hardened flesh, “--what a sick little thing you are, getting off on my reprimands, hmm?”

'Francis' sucks in a sharp breath, muscles tensing almost to a breaking point. His entire body shook with an animalistic need. More strands of precum build up on his tip, all read and agitated. Your thumb rubs the tiny slit, coating him with the sticky fluid. You found it hilarious, – no way this freakish creature had a fucking thing for degradation.

His mouth opens in the shape of a small ‘o’, eyes rolling back as you teasingly pull at his dick, your hands making wet squelching noises playing with the soaked meat.

“Mm,” you hum as you continue to play with him, dumbifying the creature in your hands. His legs start shaking like a dog’s, lewd whimpers flowing from his lips, glistening with saliva and drool. He desperately thrusts himself against your hand, chasing his pleasure farther. Jerking him off slowly, immense satisfaction burning in your stomach at the way your hand milks him. Each low groan went straight to your pulsing heat, drenching your own pants.

Panting, unfamiliar with the immense, foreign pleasure curdling through his gut, 'Francis' seems to forget the guise of his human appearance, pornograpic moans mixing in with groggy animalistic growls and grunts. Carnal desire ripples through his veins, building up in his stomach, molten hot, and threatening to explode from his twitching cock in your hands. Poor thing can’t even formulate words, getting his brains fucked out just by your hand alone.

He gasps, right about to climax into your hammering fist when you suddenly retract your hand. 'Francis' looks at you with wide eyes, looking every bit the kicked puppy, cruelly robbed of his orgasm.

“Hh. huh… nghu..- ga-?..”, panting.

You chuckle slowly, “no, not yet…”

He can only watch with teary eyes as you skillfully unbuckle your pants, sliding them off along with your underwear. You grab him by the hips, positioning him (which isn’t hard, considering the only thing keeping his shaking body up was your torso), and aligning your pelvis, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You carefully slip him into your drenched hole, gasping softly at the sensation of him.

“Hah… like I said….” ‘Francis’ can only gape as you adjust yourself, cock twitching madly inside of you,

… “I’m not done with you yet…”

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starglitterz · 10 months

Text

♡ NIGHT DANCER.

❝ nothing changed, please don't change… let's blend together, one more time. ❞ / after spending the night with you, how do the genshin men treat you in the morning after?

✧ feat ; albedo, cyno, kaedehara kazuha, scaramouche, shikanoin heizou, xiao x gn!reader ✧ warning(s) ; suggestive (esp scara and heizou) ✧ a/n ; HIII everybody make some noise for quill’s shocking once a year post!!! hope you guys like this and if it doesn’t show up in tags i will delete my account (/nsrs) anyways idk why i’ve been so obsessed w the idea of waking up next to someone (can you tell i’m critically lonely? 💀) and so this piece was born. pretend u don't notice how scara & xiao’s might seem kinda similar it’s bc i view them thru the same lens LOL ok hope you enjoy! (also ignore the scara favouritism im kinda obsessed w this idea for him KJASKJD)

please reblog + leave comments ! it helps a lot w motivation <3

✦ ALBEDO. [ kreideprinz ]

you’re awoken by the feeling of a cold breeze caressing your skin, and as you grasp for his familiar figure, you realise albedo’s not beside you anymore. but before you can freak out, his soft voice calls to you from behind you, “good morning, dove. don’t move, i’m almost finished.” “finished with what?” you query, deciding to obey him and stay still. he doesn’t answer at first, but you can hear a faint scratching sound which almost sounds like charcoal against parchment. “and… done.” you shift in the bed, turning around to face him. albedo looks almost ethereal in the early morning light, especially when he smiles at you like you hung the stars in the sky. “i do hope you don’t find this peculiar, but i wanted to draw you while you were asleep. you looked so peaceful, and i wanted to immortalise this moment.” he hands you the paper, strands of wheat-coloured hair spilling over his shoulders, let loose from his usual half ponytail. you’re the only one who gets to see him like this, messy and imperfect instead of the flawless scientist he portrays to the rest of mondstadt. you gaze at the drawing, absorbing every detail as you try not to faint from what a sweet gesture this is, “albedo, this is amazing! you made me look so pretty.” he tilts his head quizzically, raising an eyebrow, “what do you mean? i just drew you exactly how i see you – you’re always beautiful to me.”

✦ CYNO. [ judicator of secrets ]

cyno's skin looks almost golden in the sunlight filtering through the translucent curtains. you're lying on your side, gazing at him and just admiring his features when his red eyes flutter open and he murmurs, “i might have to charge you for looking so much.” his voice is rougher than normal, deepened by sleep and it makes heat rush to your cheeks. “morning, babe-ah!” you can barely get out your greeting before he's pulling you back into his embrace, strong arms wrapping around you as he nuzzles into your neck. “cyno!” you laugh, turning around to face him, “stop it, i'm hungry! i wanna go get breakfast-” “hi hungry, i'm cyno,” your boyfriend looks at you with the most deadpan expression, and you're momentarily stunned. then you groan and throw a pillow at his head, “you're so lame!” “i'm not so lame, i just told you i'm cyno- okay, okay, i'll stop!” you collapse into a fit of giggles right as you're about to pummel his chest, “lamest ever.” “mmm,” cyno mumbles, eyes already fluttering shut again as he feels your plush warmth against him, “i'll make you breakfast, i swear, but can we just stay like this for a little longer?”

✦ KAEDEHARA KAZUHA. [ scarlet leaves pursue wild waves ]

the first thing you see when you wake up are kazuha's crimson irises laser-focused on you. the way his eyes scan your features, it’s almost like he’s tracing every detail to commit to memory, as if every morning that he wakes up next to you could be his last. “kazu? what's-” you're interrupted by a yawn, and your boyfriend's gaze softens as he looks at you. as you brush his red-streaked hair out of his face, he leans into your touch, almost cat-like in the motion, “what is it, 'zuha?” “i was just thinking... you make me glad to be a poet,” a gentle smile graces his features. “what? why?” despite the fact that kazuha is always letting praise fall from his lips like jewels, you didn't even remotely expect his answer. “because it means i'm lucky enough to be able to properly convey how you make me feel, and how gorgeous you are,” kazuha presses a sweet kiss on your forehead, then his brow furrows slightly, “but i don't think there's enough words in the world for me to speak about what you mean to me.”

✦ SCARAMOUCHE. [ kunikuzushi ]

when scaramouche wakes up, his first thought is; why does my entire body hurt? eyes still half-lidded and drowsy, he looks down and he's met with the sight of your back pressed against his torso, his arm thrown carelessly over your waist. he scrambles backwards, eyes widening with shock, and his sudden frantic movement wakes you up too. “what are you doing in my bed?!” “what the hell, scara?” you mumble, rubbing away the sleep from your eyes, “it’s too early for you to be this loud.” scaramouche’s heart is beating a million times a minute, and it’s only exacerbated by how cute you look when you’re this sleepy, not that he’d admit it to you for the world. but as you yawn and sit up, he thinks that he’s going to go into cardiac arrest. “you didn’t answer my question!” you give him a weird look, “we slept together. again. duh.” the blanket wrapped around your figure slides off a little as you reply, revealing your bare shoulder and giving him the faintest glimpse of your chest, and scaramouche’s face turns so red you genuinely think he might explode. “c-cover yourself up!” he scolds, clambering closer to drape the fabric over you again as his mind works through the haze of sleep, letting the memories of last night flood back.

realising how flustered he is, you take this as the perfect opportunity to tease him, “it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” “shut up.” he replies curtly, but he hesitates as his fingers skim over the bite mark on your collarbone. his eyes darken slightly as he recalls last night, the messy kisses that were more tongue than anything else, his teeth nipping at your neck and finally sinking into your skin, all to mark you as his. you’ve both never officially decided what the two of you are, but you both know that he’s yours and you’re his, and scaramouche doesn’t like sharing. a playful smirk curves your lips, “remember giving this to me?” “don’t test me,” he mumbles, eyes roving over your exposed skin. his gaze dips to the still slipping blanket, hands ceasing their rapid motion to try and rescue your modesty, “i might give you more.” your arms loop around his neck, pulling him back down to the bed as you smile teasingly, “so do it.” “you’re a bad influence,” scaramouche groans, hands already moving to grip your hips, and you laugh, “that’s why you love me~”

✦ SHIKANOIN HEIZOU. [ analytical harmony ]

“good morning~” heizou's lilting voice is the first thing you hear when you wake up, and his trademark smile is already on his idiotically kissable lips as the two of you lie next to each other in his bed. “you do this with all the criminals you catch?” you drawl, trying to ignore how your heart skips a beat as you see the way his green eyes twinkle in the light. “just the ones i think look best in a different type of handcuffs,” he replies smoothly without missing a beat, smirk deepening as he notices he's left you speechless. “plus,” his hand trails across your cheek, thumb stroking your skin for a split second before his smile turns devilish, “it'd be pretty hard for me to get them to the police station if i left them all unable to walk.” “ugh, heizou!” you swat his shoulder, and bury your face in the pillow as he bursts into laughter. “but seriously,” heizou taps your shoulder gently, almost hesitantly, and you peek up from the pillow to look at him. a soft pink blush dusts his cheeks, and his eyes flicker away from yours in a manner that seems almost shy, “you're the only person i'd do this with, criminal or not.”

✦ XIAO. [ vigilant yaksha ]

waking up next to you is like a little slice of heaven for xiao. he can barely believe that he, the corrupted conqueror of demons, is able to share a bed with a mortal who borders on angelic. you shift in xiao's embrace, tucking your head under his chin almost instinctively as your eyes open slowly, “good morning, xiao. did you sleep well?” he still gets embarrassed by your proximity, so his voice is a little curt as he responds with a pink blush darkening his cheeks, “adepti do not require sleep.” “ah…” you roll your eyes, but pounce on the opportunity to fluster him, “guess that's why you always want to go all night, hm?” “i-!” xiao's face turns an almost delightful shade of crimson and he looks away, “no respect for the adepti.” “not true!” you gasp with mock offense. cuddling up against him, you stick your tongue out, “i respect alllll the adepti. but my boyfriend? maybe not so much.” “you'll be the death of me,” xiao sighs, pulling you impossibly closer. “then i hope you'll die a happy man,” you giggle, threading your fingers through his jade hair. xiao's eyes slide shut from the feeling of you playing with his hair, and he murmurs a response that leaves you speechless, “after a life with you? certainly.”

i love them this is so soft when is it my turn // general masterlist

#albedo x reader #cyno x reader #kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #heizou x reader #shikanoin heizou x reader #xiao x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #✏️ — quill writes !

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trashogram · 4 months

Text

He Chose You (P. 4)

Lucifer/Reader - Lucifer picks you to be his baby mama. Rated E

You’re resting against the trunk of a tree at the top of a little hill.

It’s picturesque — the hill is gentle, sloping down to a field of tall yellow-green grass. You can smell it, wafting up with the pollen from golden flowers. The sky above is alive with pinks and oranges bleeding into yellows and whites. A symphony of coos, chirps and pitter-patters of tiny things skittering around have an oddly calming effect as you settle back and allow yourself to exist.

Eyes closed, you hear the sound of something larger than a mouse rounding the tree trunk.

“I got it!” A feminine voice breaks the calm.

You don’t have to look to feel the other person at your side. They lower themselves to the ground, knees brushing against yours when they cross their legs to sit next to you.

You don’t have to look, but you do.

There’s a woman with you now, with hair so long and blonde it’s almost white. Her chin, lips, nose, and eyes are delicate and soft.

She’s not wearing any clothes, and you can see faint scars and wrinkles against the uninterrupted expanse of her skin.

“It’s so pretty, I’ve never seen one so red.” The woman is happy to see you, speaking with all the familiarity of a sister.

She presents an apple to you, taken from behind her back like a surprise.

It is red. Red like an oversized ruby, or a still-beating heart full of blood. All except for the missing chunk made by delicate teeth, yellow-white meat peeking through.

You accept her offering without a word. Even when it’s imperfect, you’re mesmerized by the fruit.

“I took a bite. I’m sorry.” She gazes at you, eyes flinty. “Does that bother you?”

You shake your head vehemently, holding the apple between your hands as if it’s the most precious thing in the world. “No, of course not.”

The woman’s lips quirk up into a satisfied smile, growing bigger when you lift the apple to your mouth and bite into it. The taste is extraordinary — sweet juice bursts against your tongue when the crisp flesh gives under your teeth with barely any resistance.

You savor the first bite out of necessity but soon you’re ravenous. You can’t get enough.

Your companion exhales gently through her nose and looks up at the colorful sky. She seems to relish in the breeze that passes by, making the leaves above you rustle and the tall grass ahead blow back quietly.

The apple is almost gone when she looks back at you, teeth showing as she grins. “Careful there!”

She giggles, reaching out to tap the hand of your hand in warning. It’s all playful, even when you pout and draw back.

“You’ll eat the seeds if you keep that up.” She says. “Something might take root and grow if you do.”

Her words give you pause, but only for the length of four or five heartbeats. The core of the apple is no less refreshing and before you know it, you’re holding the stem.

“Thank you.” You tell her earnestly.

The stem rolls in your palm, until it appears to wiggle and your brow furrows. In the back of your mind, you think you should be more startled to see it moving on its own. But when it grows pink-gray and ringed, and you realize it’s a worm, you simply place the flat of your hand on the ground below and watch it find its way into the dirt.

Sudden warmth against your cheek has you looking back up. The woman is inches from your face. Her eyelashes are dark and long and you could count them if you wanted.

The woman kisses you without a word, hands coming up to cup the back of your head. Surprise does spark up your spine as her tongue darts behind your lips. It’s as if she’s drinking deeply from you before she lets go.

“Forgive me. I wanted another taste.” She giggles again. “It’s even sweeter than I remember.”

Your face burns. You open your mouth, ready to ask the questions burning the tip of your tongue before the thud of footsteps sound from behind you.

She frowns, light leaving her eyes as she glances behind your shoulder. “Oh I was hoping we’d have more time.”

Her eyes cut across to yours. “Wake up before he sees you!”

———

A wave of pure, unadulterated nausea swept over you as soon as you opened your eyes. You laid still for a long moment, trying to reign in the urge to vomit before you deemed it safe enough to observe your surroundings.

A vague sense of confusion surfaced through the malaise when you realized that you were in your living room. There was a carmine blanket tucked around you, and with moderate difficulty you raised your head to see that, yes, a fluffy pillow was resting under your head.

Your reality conflicted with the still-present smell of tall, wet grass and a chill from the summer breeze against your skin.

With ridiculous care, you turned your head back into the pillow and muffled a whine. You couldn’t recall feeling a hangover of this caliber ever before in your life.

‘Wait.’

You weren’t hungover. Well, maybe you were but not from alcohol.

Your neighbors had invited you to dinner, then drugged you.

Already sick, you forced yourself to breathe deeply before shifting on the couch and pulling up the blanket. Despite confirming that your body was still clothed, you found yourself shaking.

It didn’t make sense to you how anyone could do this regardless of their intentions. You could not fathom why two people willing to harm you in one way hadn’t done more than that.

Your relief was short-lived, as dull and diluted as it was, when you twisted to lay back down and came face-to-face with:

A black glove, some aspirin and a glass of water sat on your coffee table.

You blinked rapidly.

There was a small business card in stark contrast to the otherwise colorless ensemble. It was thick stock, white, and flashing fancy golden script:

Lucifer Morningstar

Your stomach dropped as an unnaturally white face with glowing yellow and red eyes flashed in your mind.

The hallucination you’d seen last night — his image faded from your mind and you were left drifting in a blank, black void.

No thoughts.

———

The headache and nausea were considerably lesser when you woke up again.

Looking at the items on your coffee table — ‘glove, aspirin, water still there’ — you looked at each one and for one, strangely hopeful moment you didn’t see a card.

Oh no, it had just fallen on the floor.

———

Lucifer Morningstar

It was an odd business card, with its little red, white and gold designs on the edges. Fireworks, you eventually guessed. The ‘i’ in both first and last name were punctuated with them as well.

As you’d popped the aspirin in your mouth and downed the water, you flipped the card over. You could feel your eyebrows rising to your hairline at the hastily written message on the back:

Proof you weren’t dreaming.

Please Call Me

1-666-666-6669

Pacing was out of the question. Your limbs were still unsteady no matter how much you willed them to function.

You were trapped on the couch trying to accept what your brain had been screaming at you since you awoke for the fifth time.

How much time had passed?

Heaven and Hell were real, and so were God and the Devil.

And the Devil had paid you a visit.

———

The indent you’d made into your stupid, hand-me-down sofa was probably permanent now that you’d spent who knows how long just rotting there.

Contemplating, processing, fearing.

Fleeting memories of tantrums you’d thrown as a child paralyzed you. Moments in your life that you’d already regretted so much they kept you up some nights — randomly, provoked by nothing — piled up in your brain. Each one harshened that sinking feeling inside your body. This kind of horror was the kind a person feels right before they die.

How long have you been judged from above for your wrongs?

Were you already doomed to Hell? Is that why Lucifer himself wanted ‘to meet’ you? Did he make it a personal habit to visit each lowly sinner and taunt them?

God was real, so did everything actually happen for a reason like so many said?

Why did bad things happen to good people?

Was your dog in heaven, waiting for you and you’d already disappointed her by getting a one way ticket in the opposite direction?

———

You figured out that the ringing in your ears was actually your phone’s alarm when the natural lighting in your apartment was almost gone.

You managed to get to it on the other side of the room half-stumbling from your seat.

“Hello?” You rasped.

“… So you finally decided to answer your phone.”

———

It took you banging on the door and shouting against its old, glossy surface before Cass Farrow cracked it open.

A myriad of expressions crossed her painted face before she opened the door fully. When she faced you, she smiled.

“Honey! It’s been days! We didn’t wanna bother you but we were worried! It’s good to see you up and about!”

The way she acted, as if nothing was wrong, as if the world had turned upside down, had you balling up your fists. Your ragged nails delved into the skin so deeply you could feel the sting of blood.

“I-I need…” You couldn’t stop the copper taste of saliva filling your mouth.

You would not throw up. “I need to speak to your boss.”

Cass blinked owlishly at that. “My what?”

‘Why? Why? Why are you shocked?’ You shouted in your mind.

“Oh honey,” The low tone did nothing to soothe you, only raise your ire. “I don’t know what —”

“The Devil!” Your raised voice made the elderly woman jump. “Or Lucifer, or Baphomet — whatever the fuck you call him! I need to talk to him.”

You scrambled to grab the business card you’d stashed in your pocket.

“You had him in your apartment, so I know he’s in there somewhere.” You said while waving it in Cass’s face frantically.

It was deja vú when Mrs. Farrow eyed the card and her face paled considerably.

“Oh.”

———

Lucifer wasn’t ‘home’. At least, he wasn’t in his personal Airbnb via the Farrow residence.

However, Cass waved it away. “He’ll think it’s you or about you or something to do with you and come running.”

Trying to push yourself and demand she tell you more proved to be too difficult. All you could do is stand with your arms crossed, waiting while the (clearly practiced) worshiper combined a series of dried plants in her hands.

Cass gathered them up and laid them carefully on a side table before fiddling with the furnace and a long lighted match.

The fire blazed to life instantly from the little flicker it had begun as when Cass threw the plants in. It rose higher, and higher, until it had disappeared past where you could see behind the lintel.

You had it in you to be stunned when Lucifer appeared from out of those flames. He was perfectly pristine and intact when he stepped out, hunching slightly to avoid his top hat bumping into the smoke chamber.

The devil was as you remembered him, but also worse in that you couldn’t reassure yourself that his visage was merely a product of your fucked up, overly-imaginative little brain.

He was so… white.

His skin was practically blinding as freshly-painted walls hit by a sunbeam.

Lucifer stepped into the room with a flourish. “I came as soon as I coul-”

‘Fuck.’ You’d been spotted.

And there went Cass, out of the living room to hide away in her smelly kitchen.

“You’re here!” Lucifer cajoled, theatrics on full display as he beheld your presence.

The top hat came off, held in his hands as he graced you with a bashful smile like he was some gentleman caller and not Not-Satan.

“I-I didn’t expect to see you here waiting! But I’m so glad you are. Did you get my card? I thought about just leaving the glove because the card can seem so impersonal —”

“I just got fired.” You blurted out.

The unusually flat face contorted into an anguished expression. “You… you lost your job…?”

“Because of you.”

“B-because of me ?!” His already youthful tenor of a voice raised some octaves. “What —”

You pointed a finger in his direction. “Yes! You !”

“You appeared out of nowhere and fucked up my entire worldview. I've had existential crisis-es… cris-ies? I don’t fucking — I’ve had life-altering spirals before but that was fucking nothing compared with this!”

“And now I’m out of a job and I’m alone in a city I don’t fucking know with cult-worshipping neighbors because I can’t go back to where I was and you’re just standing here like you have no idea why I’m upset!”

You hadn’t expected to get this far. You hadn’t expected to go on a tirade at all, really. Distantly you felt tears sliding down your cheeks and the frantic beat of your heart in your ribcage.

Shame, guilt and fear began toiling deep inside you.

Lucifer had been backed against the wall, hands raised placatingly and expression mirroring your own internal panic. It quickly turned into concern as he took in your sorry state of being.

“Please, no.” He reached out for you and you retaliated by jolting out of reach. “Oh please don’t… I’m sorry. I'm so sorry. I never… if I’d known…”

He was reaching into his coat and pulling something out before your sight cleared. It was a handkerchief with the red moniker L.M. on one corner.

The King held it out to you like a peace offering. Or a white flag.

The force with which you snatched it out of his hands was unnecessary but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“You said you picked me. What did you mean by that?” You mumbled into the handkerchief.

Lucifer’s mouth screwed up into a frown, brow creasing. “We don’t have to talk about that —”

“No.” You made eye contact, watching him squirm. “We need to talk about it. Explain it. Now.”

“Ahh… ok, yes, um…” He fiddled with the bow tie at his collar. “Well, like I said before, I wanted to wait until we got to know each other because… because it’s kind of a big deal.”

Your stern frown implored him to continue.

Lucifer winced. “It’s sort of a-a favor I wanted to ask of you. And I thought that if we talked about it over time maybe it wouldn’t sound so monumental… but actually, now…”

The fidgeting worsened, and his nimble fingers had graduated to fussing with the clasps down his front. Eventually, Lucifer yanked his jacket down to straighten it.

“So, I’ve been around for a really, really, really, really long time.” The Devil started. “And I’ve kind of been on my own for *like* ever and that’s fine, whatever, can’t complain. Normally it’s all about warding off boredom.

“But! Lately, it’s been harder and harder to just —” He made a fist and punched down onto the palm of his other hand to elucidate. “— Just, ahh, not be bored? I guess?”

“And it’s been interfering with all the shit I gotta do. I mean I have no-oo motivation, none at all, and it’s becoming a big problem. The other Sins have actually noticed. Like Satan? You know, we talked about him when we met — yeah, he came up to me not too long ago, saying —”

Your heart stopped as Lucifer’s eyes went completely red, blazing in his skull like magma and accompanied by long horns protruding from his head.

His voice took on an unearthly, gravelly quality as he, presumably, mimicked Satan:

“‘We’re worried for you, man. Ozzie says you haven’t been returning his calls. Levi and Bee miss you on their outings but you always say you’re busy. Whatever’s going on, you know you can talk to us, right?’”

Lucifer was back to normal in a millisecond. “And I do know that. I do! But as much as I wanna take them up on it, I just feel like none of them will really understand what’s wrong. I don’t even understand it. Or at least I didn’t until it came to me out of nowhere, like lightning.”

He mimed being zapped in the head.

“Visits and parties with my brothers are fun and all, but they end... And I find myself all alone more often than not.”

Lucifer sighed deeply.

“I don’t really have anything to live for,” He stressed. “Except for myself and…”

“That’s not much.” He snickered mirthlessly.

You swallowed. The anger, frustration, exhaustion and still-present fear were blanketed by an uncomfortable bout of sympathy.

Sympathy for the Devil.

‘Oh shut the fuck up you.’

“Don’t you live for the suffering of mankind or something?” You sniffled, trying to regain your metaphorical footing in the conversation and, in turn, regenerate that anger you’d been consumed by not a minute ago.

Lucifer looked from the ground to you, the gleam in his cherry-red eyes fighting to come back to life.

“Aha! No, no. That’s-that’s a Bible thing, right?” He groaned, pulling down the brim of his hat in exasperation. “Ugh, I still don’t know why Heaven insists on that overblown press kit! It’s so fucking old! And inaccurate!”

Lucifer commiserated with you. “Too much involvement from human hands, too. Ya know? I mean people use it to justify some of the most insane shit I’ve ever seen!”

He cleared his throat at your blank expression.

“Anywho-oo. What was the question again? Oh! Oh, do I live for the suffering of man — no! No, I don’t. In fact, where I’m from? Being in the middle of that suffering shtick gets old real fast. I’ve stayed away from it for a good while now and really I’ve never been better.”

The blond topped off his statement with a smile, showing those razor teeth while also trying to come across as easy-going and candid.

A beat passed, in which you felt your lips form a thin line.

You couldn’t stop yourself.

You snorted.

Lucifer looked at you as if you’d lost your head as your snorts turned into full-blown laughter. Until he, of course, wanted to fit in like he knew exactly what was going on.

“Hahaha, yeah…” Hell’s king chuckled nervously. “I am pretty funny, aren’t I? Ha ha… ha.”

Shaking your head ‘no’, you tried to reign in the body spasms.

“So when you say you ‘picked me’, you mean you want me to… what? Be your therapist?” You asked. “The Devil needs a friend’s shoulder to cry on? What?”

Lucifer fixed you with the first look of genuine annoyance you’d seen (directed at you) from him.

“No.” He harrumphed. “I need a baby.”

Tag List: @crescent-z, @for-hearthand-home, @undertale-is-sansational, @loslox, @navierkalani, @yaimlight, @ivoryviness, @crystalplays28, @flowerempress, @wally-darling-hyperfixation, @altruisticradiodemon, @moonlight-readings, @halparkebitch, @charliecharlie65, @sockgoblin, @cocomollo, @caniseethefourthsword, @squeegeeclean, @crow-twink, @an-emovision

I'm so sorry if I missed anyone who asked to be tagged! I'm having a hard time keeping track.

#hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar

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ahhhwomen · 3 months

Text

Mom, I'm tired.

Vampire Empire

Part 2

Pairing: DarkVamp!Wanda Maximoff x DarkVamp!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: Alright, so this writing style is not what I am used to, so feedback is definitely welcome. Due to me being unsure of this style I wanted to take a little longer to write part 2, but since yall liked part 1 so much I decided a shorter chapter was in order, I am already working on part 3, but yall gotta tell me how you feel about this one. Oh... and don't hate me for what i am about to do...

Disclaimer: English is not my first language. All mistakes are my own.

AU Warnings: Human pets, abuse, violence, possessiveness, probably incorrect vampire lore, angst, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, kitten play (?), also this is not a Carol positive fic (I have nothing against her, but I needed a villain), death Minors DNI 18+

Summary: You just want to rest.

Word Count: 1.4k

You don’t know what is happening, why- you try to pull in a desperate breath, but still, nothing. Why- why was this happening? What is happening?

Why can’t you move?!

The lesser scary of the two redheads secures herself tighter against you, now supporting your full weight. She has to shift from a crouched-down position to sitting completely in your little enclosure. Her ankle awkwardly bends beneath her thigh. The rough ground fraying her expensive dress pants.

There is a sensation like concrete pouring through your veins, you can hear your heartbeat slow, and immense pressure start building behind your eyes, but you are desperate for control over something, anything. So, as much as it pains you, you tiredly let your eyes roam around the room while trying to avoid the blank stare from the taller redhead.

Your vision takes in the scenery that has unfolded in your space, you drape your eyes over the walls, the horror of your evening with Master painted like a masterpiece, you then take a risk and slowly run your eyes over the lower half of the woman in front of you.

Wanda is standing like a woman in power, her feet spaced apart hip to hip, spreading her weight perfectly between the pair of high, amber, heels. There was a slight scuff to one of them, a chip in the plastic, whatever fell earlier must have fallen on that heel, you doubt she would walk around with an imperfect pair if not. You swirl your eyes to the ground beside her, a tusk of brown hair having caught your attention.

That’s when you see it. Staring right back at you are the lifeless eyes of the seller. Or at least that is the only name you have for him.

It’s at that moment that the reality of the situation finally sets in.

You go to let out a high-pitched whine, but no sound is made, and for the first time in a long time, you have this desperate need to cry.

You can’t even do that.

You don’t want to die.

Not like this.

You want to smell the fresh air in the cold mornings, you want to feel the sand beneath your toes, you want to taste the richness of vanilla inside a simple frozen dish, and you want to live. If only for a moment longer.

But-

There is nothing you can do.

Your body loses all will to fight, and you give up.

Wanda keeps track of your vitals while under her control, she doesn't want to hurt you, but you are out of line, and frankly, your behavior unsettles the redhead.

When she can see the fight drain from your eyes, she releases you.

She sighs as the strain in her muscles loosens, and she moves her neck from left to right, removing the remaining tenseness. A prickle in her spine begs her to stretch out her entire body, but this was neither the time nor place, though she does put a pin in it, maybe she should order a massage sometime soon.

As for you, there is no sign that you are back in control except for the desperate gasping for air.

You don’t know what to do with this newfound freedom, Romanoff´s hands are keeping you close to her, her heartbeat steady beneath your ear, but suddenly it’s all too much. The only thing you can do is let your ribcage expand and contract at a rapid pace, the pain grounds you as your bruised ribs sting you.

You no longer fight against Natasha’s grip, and there is no chance that you will either.

You are scared, they can both feel it, but it’s not like it was a moment ago. A moment ago you were fighting to stay alive, fighting because it is your instinct to do so, now, you have given up on even that.

Now, you are just scared, plain and simple.

Natasha rubs her hands up and down your back slowly, the fabric of her silken shirt bunches up with her elbows, and the roll of textile slides against your skin rhythmically. Your body tenses and relaxes at strange intervals, there is a mistrust between her motive and your tender flesh, yet you still crave comfort.

That is until you see Wanda shift from one foot to the other and Natasha’s hands move too close to your collar, you strain your body away from her palms.

Natasha huffs in slight annoyance and shifts her attention to her wife, “What was that?”.

She tries to keep her voice quiet enough to not startle you, but it’s a futile attempt and shortly after she has opened her mouth you are crawling out of her arms and back into your corner.

She can tell it pains you to move, the bruises along your arms and legs making it difficult to crawl in a fluid motion, and she sees you struggle your way under the lamp, but you manage. In the end, you swiftly slump back into the position you laid in when they first got here, the only difference being that you are too tired to move the rag back over your body.

Wanda merely shrugs, her perfectly fitted suit ruffling with the movement, “She was becoming aggressive.” To be truthful, your sudden outburst had taken Wanda by surprise, she didn’t even know what she was saying until it was too late.

Natasha sighs before standing and walking up to her wife, her pants now scuffed and dirtied. She brushed herself down, but the filth of this place wasn’t one easily removed. She gets a hold of her bearings and stands straight before she bothers with a disappointed reply.

“She was just scared, “ she shakes her head disapprovingly. They have lived long enough to see all types of people. And Natasha knows you're type, scared, abused, and skittish. A dog in the fighting ring, or a cat in this case.

Anything can make you snap and bare your teeth.

However, she also knows that taking your right to do so away, will only worsen your behavior in the long run. It never helps to use fear against someone who is already terrified.

Again, Wanda does nothing but shrugs and lifts her jacket to glance at her watch.

Playtime is over, they have places to be, and it saddens Wanda, but she knows they won’t be leaving here with a pretty girl like she had hoped.

It´s best for Natasha that she rips the band-aid off fast.

Wanda points over at your shaking body, “It’s clear Carol has her eyes on her. You know we can’t keep her.”

Wanda slumps in on herself while saying it, her shoulders lower and her back bows unnaturally, the seams of her suit stretching and pulling against the tight movement. After the words have been put out there, Natasha's face shifts and morphs until she settles for a relatively neutral, but rather grim expression. The right side of her lip lifted into a slight sneer; this was an unfortunate situation.

Natasha looks down at her hands, hands she had just held you in, there are specs of dried blood and dirt covering the expanse of her palms, she tightens her fist and takes a slow breath.

Carol is already enough of a handful. Taking her punching bag away from her will only make matters worse.

Leased pet or not, Carol owns you.

So, Natasha nods curtly, the back of her shirt rubbing uneasily against the nape of her neck.

“Well, let’s go then.” With no regard to the body at her heels she steps over the man and continues to strut down the hall with her wife following shortly behind. Someone will be by to clean him up and replace him with another pawn, it’s the way these places work.

And if she took a moment to listen in on your heartbeat one last time before they left, it wouldn’t hurt anyone that she kept that to herself.

It sounded wrong.

Whatever sympathy Natasha felt for you was quickly squashed down and ignored as she and Wanda returned to business as usual.

It’s for the best, a pet would only make them weak.

After the two mysterious women leave, you curl into yourself and a sob breaks through you before you can stop it.

Mom, I'm tired.

#wanda maximoff x reader #dark!wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff x reader #dark!natasha romanoff #wandanat x reader #vampire!natasha romanoff #vampire!wanda maximoff #dark!wandanat

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satoruhour · 11 months

Note

how nanami would react to you (his wife) being needy when he comes back from work pls <3

a/n: hehe / 1.6k

warnings: f! masturbation, pleasure dom nanami, pet names, usage of sex toys (vibrator + dildo), nanami listens in for a bit, clit stimulation, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, face-sitting, clothed sex, a bit of degradation, p → v penetration, riding, cowgirl, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, implied second + subsequent rounds, n*sfw under the cut

“honey?” nanami calls out to the seemingly quiet home. there’s no sounds coming from the kitchen, which is a normal occurrence for you, pots and pans clanging in a rush to make sure dinner’s ready before your husband returns, even after he insists that there’s no hurry. but of course, he’s overtimed for quite a while, leaving the office around 7.30, so he doesn’t think it’s weird that you aren’t in your usual apron and slippers.

but he doesn’t smell dinner, either, the faded fragrance of whatever it is you planned to make wafting through the house; nothing. and then fear takes over as nanami scours the place, dress shoes clicking uncomfortably on the floor reminds him of an explosive — maybe you’ve been taken hostage, maybe you have a bomb attached to you, but the further he enters into your home, the more he doesn’t hear the matching sounds of a timer against the heel of his shoe.

it’s more of a low hum, when he finally ascends the stairs. one step by one step, nanami gets closer to the source: an unceasing buzz of a toy, and your quiet whimpers muffled by the duvet, the thrashing of your legs and the squelch of your dripping cunt as it sucks in your dildo. your husband internally sighs in relief, but he kicks out the previously terrifying vision before and focuses on your sounds.

“ken— s-shit…” nanami wipes his sweaty palms on his slacks, sparing a glance to the dick print already showing through the fabric and thinking if he should respect your space to let you finish or if he should just offer to help. ah, nanami, always the caring husband, but he knew chivalry would only make you more needy, so he sounds a quick rapt on the door and opens it, arriving to the sight of his pretty wife spread out so nicely.

“ah! what- kento!” your hair is tousled all over, some sticking to your skin. with chest heaving, you try to catch your breath as the toy you’ve been using dies out, clearly not able to take your multiple lacklustre orgasms. from the door, nanami’s eyes shift down to your cunt, wet and soaking the sheets, your cute apron swiped to the side. his eyes soften just a little seeing your fucked out expression, and even more so at the way you don’t cover yourself—

nanami makes you feel so damn good about your body that you have no room for insecurity and he thinks you look like an absolute goddess like this, imperfections and all. the soft pleas leaving your mouth is just the cherry on top.

“hey sweetheart… need some help?” and he feels his heart clench when you nod shyly and mutter a soft ‘please‘, hand reaching for his once he comes close enough to the bed. your husband goes in for a passionate kiss, twining his fingers with yours as the other sifts through your hair. it’s always vulnerable with nanami, laying down and pulling you atop him easily.

“no, baby,” nanami has one hand on your middle to stop your hips from moving, brushing the hair that falls out from your barely-together bun behind your ears, “want you to sit on my face. can you do that, sweetheart?”

“but what if i…” you pout, holding the hand that fumbles with your hair, pressing a soft kiss to his open palm.

“aht, aht, what’d i say about worrying about me?” nanami just smiles, ready to suffocate between your thighs, at the mercy of your sweet arousal. he nudges you forward as you scoot up his body knee by knee, until you’re hovering over him. he can smell you from here, puffy clit jutting out from how many times you’ve cum rubbing it. just after are your folds, leaking pure nectar that starts to pool; his tongue laps it up before it drops. “i’d be happy to perish if it was your pretty little pussy suffocating me.”

you roll your eyes even when his words had a clear effect on you, “since when were you so dramat— f-fuck!” nanami dives in without warning, licking and sucking your clit with his tongue, eyes closed from enjoying his meal. your lover groans, pulling you down more and more although you still subconsciously hover, “put your weight on me, princess. do it.”

nanami plunges his tongue into your hole, nose nudging your clit and it’s the one thing that gets you releasing your hold on your thighs, choking out mewls of desperation as you grind down on his face. soon, your hands take hold of his blonde hair, too, tugging on him to get him deeper. there’s a sharp inhale from below you and you meet his eyes, the stoic, dead look and yet you know the look of the overflow of love and lust for you anywhere — it can only be found in nanami kento’s eyes.

“k-kentoo… feels s’good…” you moan, pulling your weight back to support yourself with your arms, with the intent to land a hand on his aching dick. you squeeze, earning a low groan from the other at your sneaky move and he removes his mouth from you for a second.

“sneaky lil slut, aren’t you?” nanami laughs breathlessly before latching back onto your pussy, sending vibrations through your body when you press down on his cock once again. he loves it, hips lifting off the bed to meet your hand, while yours ground down on his relentless tongue.

“dirty baby… mhmp— my pretty, pretty wife sitting here, frilly apron and all,” nanami reaches up to turn your face down towards his, “fucking herself while i wasn’t home. i’m not sure if she deserves to cum.”

you immediately whine, the prospect of being denied your orgasm makes you delirious, abandoning your initial mission to tease as you switch to grinding your lower half into nanami’s face. “kento— i wanna cum, p-ple— oh, fuck!”

his tongue has descended to your hole, his thumb rubbing your clit instead. the sensations are too much, back arching and legs closing in around your husband’s head. “’m close— can i c-cum, please? please please mmfh—”

he could never hold you back from what’s natural, after all, he loves seeing you come apart, moans stuck in your throat and skin glimmering with a slight sheen of sweat — he’s memorised how you cum at this point, and you do just that when your thighs thrash around his head, hips stuttering as you come undone.

“cumming—! ’m cumming, ’m cumming!” you cry out his name, riding out the delicious high. nanami doesn’t stop his ministrations, helping you through your climax until you’re pushing at his shoulders because you’re so sensitive.

nanami is far from done, though, helping you to scooch back down as he sits up, capturing your lips in a slow kiss. you taste yourself on his mouth, cumming so much that when you pull away, there’s a string that connects your lips together and nanami has to compose himself.

“you okay?” you wordlessly nod, making quick work of his pants, hearing a relieved sigh escape from the other when his cock is finally out. he has a pretty dick, always in awe before you have to take him, but you do it with no problem, the mushroom tip stretching your hole as you sink down on him. you’re so wet that your juices are dripping down his shaft, easing your way down as he mumbles praises in your ear, sending the hairs on your arm standing when he lets out a guttural groan once he bottoms out.

“there’s my girl… taking me so fuckin’ well,” nanami pecks your forehead as you start to move, arms looped around his shoulders for stability as you bounce on his cock, cries of his name interrupted by your moans. “feel so tight for me, shit.”

“’s all for you, kento,” you babble, tits bouncing as you make work of your hips. your thighs feel like cramping, your core is aching, but nanami’s fat cock just feels so good in you, filling up every part of your cunt that you can hardly give a shit, “my pussy’s y-yours… ah!”

“yeah? mine for me to cum in?” nanami wraps his arms around you, both of you falling back though it doesn’t stop your man from thrusting up into you. it’s so deep, hitting a spot that you let out a loud whimper, body limply sagging against your husband’s as he continues to ram into your poor, little cunt. with each thrust, there’s the slap of his pelvis against your ass, your cum making webs that connect his hips to your core and he’s groaning about how you got so tight from wanting to be filled.

“ye—yeah, yeah, wan’ your cum, kento,“ you mumble with a whine, your second orgasm approaching while your let him ruin you, cumming on a particular thrust that has your body tensing and muscles spasming, profanities and obscene sounds falling from your mouth before the man below you grunts.

“good girl, t-take my cum, baby,” nanami whispers, receiving drunken ‘yes’s’ from you and his thrusts halting before his eyes are rolling back, spurting his seed into you. he releases deep into you, thick ropes of cum that fill up your pussy until it’s spilling out from the sides. “that’s it…”

but while nanami is ready to receive your drowsy, lovestruck state, you have other plans, sitting up just a little while your hips continue to bounce on him. small pants leave your mouth, the sloppy, lewd sounds that your pussy makes only spur nanami on again, holding your body close to his while he promises to take care of his wife like a good husband does, indulging in your indecent desires, fucking you like a good girl and pumping you full of his cum until it’s all you can think about.

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maiiuelle · 8 days

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mermaid reader bringing jj super valuable stuff but thinking they’re worthless until he gets super happy

it’s the early days of your relationship with jj, you have yet to sprout legs and you’re still the pogues’ little secret. last time jj visited you at the beach, he had told you about the standstill they’d hit in their search for the gold. it was strange to see him so tired and defeated — and it had been eating away at you since.

so, you’re taking matters into your own hands. you wake up early to sneak off toward the mainland, swimming parallel to the shoreline to search for anything you can find. you end up at a rocky shore on the north side of the island, and a closed wooden crate floating in the shallow water catches your eye. thrilled to have found anything, you take hold of a sturdy piece of driftwood, wedging it into the side of the crate to pry it open.

the inside is underwhelming, full of sand and rocks from the beach. it’s too deep to see what may lie beneath, but either way, you’re upset. you decide to carry the crate with you to the dock behind the chateau, having promised jj you’d meet him there with a special surprise at sunset. now you just feel silly.

jj is already there when you arrive, waving from the dock with a fishing pole in his other hand. “woah — fish on! look at that beauty.” you swim up to the edge, feeling queasy from overthinking. without a word you hoist the box out of the water and onto the wooden platform. as jj comes down the ramp, you sink away back into the marsh just a little, his presence alone making your embarrassment grow. “what’s up, mama?”

“okay, don’t get all excited. i wanted to help — but it's just full of sand!”

jj cocks a brow at you, looking uneasily into the crate like it’s full of eels. his face goes pale once he gets a peek at what’s really inside. you blink at him nervously, now convinced you’ve offended him with such a lousy haul.

the blonde crouches down slowly, slipping a muscular hand into the crate. when he pulls it back out, his fingers are draped in beautiful pearls. you can barely believe your eyes — the swim over must have knocked the sand through the imperfections in the wood, leaving only the treasure hidden underneath.

jj tears his eyes from the pearls to look at you, your sweet face etched in surprise. “full of sand?” he doesn’t know what to do other than laugh, and you do too, relieved that you somehow pulled it off. it’s nice to see a big smile on his handsome face again. <3

#thanks for the message! ♡‧₊˚.#anon #rewrote her a few times eek!#obx #mermaid!reader 𓇼 ೃ༄#jj maybank #jj maybank x mermaid!reader #jj maybank x reader

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delicrieux · 1 year

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—𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭, ch.1: things of present and future importance

pairing—carmy berzatto x f!reader genre—drama, romance, age gap, boss/employee relationship warnings for this chapter—trauma, anxiety, swearing, and sum depression as dessert word count—2k

uh-oh, carmen is losing it again, this time in front of his new employee, too.

author’s note: give me this wet dog of a man and give him to me NOWWWWWWWW

masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | read on ao3 . next >

important! some of the dialogue scenes are written as a script & dialogues that overlap are marked in [] <3

there’s a lot of things wrong with this situation, but carmen does not have it in him to care. maybe he never will, and that’s okay, because it’s his fucking restaurant and he knows he could be kinder, could be gentler, could, maybe, keep all of those splinters in his gut from hurting too bad if he took a few deep breaths just how they say in therapy. deep breaths, slow breaths, and then they look at you like you’re a toddler having a meltdown in the middle of the street and suddenly, suddenly, it’s all go fuck yourself and the door slamming shut.

carmen’s an abandoned puppy – disheveled hair and round eyes that have been unloved (by him, most of all), with his head bent and shoulders tense, not sure whether to flee or attack, but offense is the best defense and just like a bad dog he bites when frightened. it’s all teeth and anger and desperation; jaws lock and teeth sink and he doesn’t let go because he’s starving, even if what he’s fighting for is nothing but a cadaver of a place, space, body – brother? no, don’t think of mikey. he’s starving, has been for ages – approval? don’t say that – and that hunger bubbles to the surface when confronted by a minuscule imperfection, like sauce on the stove left to simmer for too long.

it’s a bad first impression, second impression, third, what the fuck, he’s good at food and not very good at math, unless math comes to food and then, maybe, he can sort it out. still bad, still fucking terrible, to be honest, and somewhere in the frying tangles of his mind he knows that yelling doesn’t help, and that yelling in front of the new hire doesn’t bode well for retention. the last enzymes of his sanity warn him – calm down, just, just calm down, carmen, you’re making it worse, you’re making it fucking worse – but the to-go machine keeps beeping, and the kitchen is too hot, and his staff is too anxious, and everything is amplified tenfold by his brother’s looming shadow that exists to him only. don’t think of mikey.

“can someone please turn that fucking thing off?” it’s his voice, laced by such scorn and a barely contained anger that makes him tremble by the pans. he’s losing his mind. sweat collects on his temple and his eyes sting from the fumes billowing onto his face, “sydney!”

“yes, chef.”

sydney’s a trooper, doesn’t bend under pressure like steel, and he sees her maneuvering in his peripherals, quick and agile to not get into anyone’s way, least of all his. briefly, he thinks about burning this place down. he blinks. the beeping stops �� she ripped the cord out of the socked, dropped it onto the floor that sent an echo.

the new hire watches this shitshow unfold by her station, eyes wide and weary, ears perked for orders. her hands move – strong hands, swift hands, long fingers and rough palms that cradle a knife the way a mother would cradle a child. she doesn’t look at what she cuts, but she chops and slices and it’s all automatic – trained response? – and if carmen were to take a ruler and inspect the pieces, he’d be impressed to find that most are even and none are crooked. he’d hum, then, skim through the folders of his mind to re-check her experience, re-check the college she went to. he’d say something like, “good work, chef,” and maybe she’d smile at the bare bones of the compliment he’d given her, and when he’d be alone in his dingy office he’d pull out her resume and examine it with more interest because he’d be too embarrassed to ask.

he’ll grow familiar with those hands, with the dips and curves of knuckles and the tiger stripes of scars running down their expanse; he’ll grow familiar with the touch, too, soft despite the callouses, but only to him. not yet, though, not for another few months till a completely expected storm will halt the trains and he’ll have to drive her home. it’ll be weeks after that awkward silence in the car and stolen glances at soaked t-shirt-clad skin.

her form is unfamiliar to him – he hadn’t any interest to look, nor would he find anything curious when all is covered in oversized fabric and a blue apron. at present, she’s his colleague, nothing more, and a young one at that, too young and too talented to be stuck in such a place and with him running it.

but he will look. sooner than expected, and not for any devout reason, unless loneliness can be considered holy.

he’ll feel bad about it, too, and he’ll feel worse when everything escalates, because it always does.

for now, he cooks by the open flame, letting hot oil sizzle on his hands and the fire lick his fingers, and maybe, just maybe, he likes the pain because he knows nothing else. it’s become empirical to him. an indication that he’s still alive. that he’s still in control of something, even if he isn’t.

richie, richie, good fucking god, richie always picks the worst moments to bitch about.

“are you fucking with me?” carmen’s voice, again, a bit higher this time and just a gruff. doe eyes narrow at the bell-tower named richard jerimovich that has the audacity to look clueless, “do not fucking fuck with me right now.”

richie: shove that stick outta [fuck you] your ass, cousin carmen: are you deaf? richie: boutta go deaf if you keep yapping [don’t got time for this]; listen, i just [you just?] came to talk [talk? now? talk?] yes, to talk, look carmen: now you wanna talk? now? you wanna [jesus] fucking talk right now?

the tension in the air is sharp enough to slice through skin. everyone pointedly pretends not to hear this conversation. carmen doesn’t want to hear this conversation, either. there’s a line of people waiting. he reminds richie of that, and richie reminds that oh, he knows, and –

“richie!” it’s sydney, cheeks glowing with sweat and bandana crooked, “not now.”

richie huffs, looks at carmen with a certain exasperation, a wordless question of ‘really? really? you’re letting her run the show, now?’, and carmen needn’t be a genius to know that richie’s gonna bring this up later. he’ll never hear the end of it, he scarcely does now. it’s a headache in the making. his heart skips, or maybe stops, and for a moment he feels white-hot panic shoot through his veins. it passes with a shiver he doesn’t show. he breathes just a tad quicker – not enough air, not enough fucking air, jesus.

richie retreats with his arms raised in surrender, amused and annoyed simultaneously. a quiet follows his departure, and carmen looks at the staff, gaze jumping from one to the other before settling on her. she’s unperturbed by the chaos, working, watching, assessing, and later he’ll learn she wears that face the same way he wears his anger – as armor.

eyes meet and there’s a certain understanding that glimmers in the depths of her iris. but what could she understand? three weeks from now, he’ll come to learn that she’s used to rough edges and loud voices: he’ll learn that she’s the daughter of the chef that made his life hell back in new york, he’ll learn that she took up cooking because she wanted to appease her father, he’ll learn that her parents have split and her mother is sick and that she’s not calm but disconnected and that she tends to live in her head just like him.

but he doesn’t know that now, so he blames the shitty lighting that blinks and buzzes and, “fak, for the love of fucking god, please fix it.”

he said please this time, and it means he’s cooling off. he thankfully misses the quick look the staff shares – a mixture of relief and pity. either would have been devastating to recognize.

the only upside is that the day goes by fast. too much to do, too much to stress about, and carmen’s used to running on nothing but nicotine and adrenaline and an odd spout of desolation, and he manages everything, keeps the pieces glued together until eventually everything becomes too much and then he crumbles. still picks them up gently, like handling broken glass. he visits the storage often. closes the door for a moment and just lets himself breathe, reminds himself how to. doesn’t calm, only collects, reigns in the anger that coats loneliness. don’t think about mikey.

the staff cleans in a similar silence that douses after a storm.

the night's clear, crisp air compounded with cigarette smoke. he leans on the wall of the restaurant, staring into space, listening to the white noise of a restless city. by now, sydney has flipped the CLOSED sign; by now, his new hire is probably thinking about quitting, elbows deep in cleaning detergent as she scrubs the floor. he’ll have to go over her work and double-check. just in case there’s something more to do for hands that are always restless.

he tries to think but his head is scrambled. too many thoughts rushing in and out, loud, obnoxious, too quick to leave a lasting impact. he’s tired. he’s always tired. he wants lay on his bed and let sleep swallow him whole, but he knows that won’t happen. if he sleeps, he dreams of new york, he dreams of fire, he dreams of voices coming from the other room. one, in particular, holds a familiar rasp and drawl, punctuated by laugher, weaving a tale and stop it, don’t think about it anymore, just stop it, don’t think about –

he tosses the cigarette, watching the embers burn.

don’t think about mikey.

he enters through the back exit, stalks through the restaurant like he's haunting the place. briefly stops to stare at the mirror behind the bar. doesn't really recognize the man staring back.

the clock reads 00:30 am.

marcus was the last to leave, or so carmen assumed by the silence that shrouds the place, but as he makes his way to his office, he hears a locker shutting, and the sound rattles him so much his heart beats in his throat. all of that previous exhaustion ignites into anxiety that makes his limbs lock up.

she halts by the mouth of the kitchen, hair matted from sweat and lower lip marked where her teeth sunk, drooped eyes widening a fraction as she regards him. he can only stare at her in return, at her messy hair and pinched eyebrows and the slight downward curl of her lips.

“you could use a coffee,” she utters, and her voice is jarring – not for any unpleasant reason, but for the fact that he didn’t expect to hear it. he’ll grow to like it, crave it, even, because it’s a lovely cadence and it’ll sound even lovelier when she says his name.

he’s frightened by it now, if one can be scared of such a thing. so he bites.

“it’s almost 1 am.”

“right,” she mutters dryly.

“why are you still here?” he questions, and it almost sounds like an accusation, because he thought he was alone, only to suddenly be proved wrong. feels like an invasion of privacy, to be fucking honest, “your shift ended like an hour ago.”

“oh, I, uh, had some things to finish, so…” she trails off, but she still looks at him, and it’s unnerving, really, how she doesn’t budge under the weight of his stare. he bends under hers, though; the floor is spotless, he has nothing left to do. he misses the visible tension in her face, misses the quick swipe of her tongue on her lower lip as she opens and closes her mouth. it’ll take two whole weeks to grow entranced by the sight. misses the polite smile, too, but hears it in her voice anyway, “night.”

her sneakers squeak and echo and the door shuts. silence settles heavy on his shoulders. he’s not sure if he’s more distraught by her sudden appearance or abrupt departure. both somehow feel bad. in less than half a year, he’ll come to realize that the latter is worse.

ch.2: thank you, love you

#the bear #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy x reader #the bear imagine #imagine #imagines #reader #xreader #give him a moment he jacks off in chapter two #hes so pathetic i love him

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yourangel137 · 1 year

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The romantic things he does

I think everyone should have some love too between all the lust<3

Genre: fluff + NSFW

Pairs: All Genshin men (i write for) x FEM!reader

Warning: NSFW, eating out, penetration, overall lovely sex<3

Word count: 1429 words

Summary: Romantic things they do in the bedroom

Compliment you/praise you: Thoma, Kaveh, Kazuha, Venti, Albedo

It’s the way he looks at you, it makes your heart melt while he makes love to you. The way he knows how to make you feel good and make you feel weak under him. The way his hands roam over your body, seeking more and more contact and the way his mouth speaks of such sweet words. It’s always so perfect to you... “You’re doing so good~” He says, showing you a soft smile before giving your lips another soft kiss.

Your heart skips a beat when you feel his lips on your neck again, giving you love bites here and there for everyone to see. He loves showing you off to others, he loves letting them know you’re his and despite how it can possibly make you or him shy in the process, it’s all worth it. You squirm and let out a loud moan when you feel his cock hitting your g-spot again, this position does seem to hit it easier than usual. His eyes lighten up, licking his lips before pressing a kiss on your cheek. “You’re so gorgeous.. You’re so good to me.” He speaks out, using one of his soft tones, reassuring you how good you’re doing once again.

Slowly you feel your climax coming, his slow trusts combined with his fingers rubbing your clit makes you feel so loved and cared for. All because he’s taking his time with you, showing you the love you deserve and you cant ask for more then that. “You feel so good around me, I love you so much.”

Giving your body a lot of kisses/love bites: Itto, Kazuha, Kaveh, Heizou, Venti, Childe, Diluc, Thoma

He’s so slow with you today, being sure to give your body the smooches it deserves. Your skin feels slightly ticklish when his warm breath hits your skin. Goosebumps starts to form on your body to which he chuckles slightly, he knows he’s doing a good job when you’re getting so wet from his simple kisses all over your body. But who wouldn’t want their body to be worshipped? “Your stomach skin is so soft.” He tells you, touching your stomach with his fingers before laying yet another kiss on it. You’re feeling exposed below your boyfriend, but you know you’re safe in his arms. Your cheeks flush a darker shade when you feel his kisses trail down to your legs. “These also deserve love, don’t they?” You hear him chuckle once again before you feel his lips continue to kiss your skin and paint your blank canvas with small love bites.

He kisses all your perfections and imperfections, all your smooth skin and all your blemishes. It’s simply because he loves it all and he loves you. To him, your imperfections are perfect as well and he’s always sure to tell you that every single time. “Y/N... You’re so wet~ Is it just because I’m giving your body kisses and love bites?” You feel your cheeks warm up and of course he notices that too.

“Don’t worry, I’m just glad you’re enjoying this as much as I am. You deserve to be kissed everywhere.”

Aftercare no matter what: Kazuha, Kaveh, Itto, Scaramouche/wanderer, Heizou, Xiao, tighnari

Despite how rough he can be sometimes, he seems to know pretty damn well how to take care of you afterwards. Even if there are nights when it’s just pure lust, he’s sure to end it with taking care of you and your body. He gives you cuddles and a kiss afterwards to reassure you he still loves and cares about you, that lust isn’t all he feels for you. It always seems to make you warm inside, knowing he will stay despite how rough he might have been in the bedroom.

You watch how he leaves the bedroom only to come back later with a clean wet cloth to help clean you up as well. Yes, he’s sometimes rather rough and yes, he also sometimes forgets how to end a night properly when he’s extremely tired. But despite all of that, he always finds some type of way to end the night with love and not lust. You sit up slowly, groaning once you feel your muscles hurt from the intense climaxes you experienced. “Lie down, I’ll help you clean up.” You raise your eyebrow once he told you to lie back down, but you lie down as he told you to do. “You know I can wash up myself right? It’s okay, it’s just a little muscle pain, nothing I can’t handle.”

You hear him chuckle softly and feel the wet cloth touching your body, wiping off the sweat and drops of cum he spilled on your body. “It’s not that I don’t think you can handle it yourself but I was pretty rough so let me just do this okay? Stop questioning it and just enjoy.”

You are left speechless for a hot minute before finally replying back: “Thank you..”

“Don’t mention it.”

Focussing on you first(1 or multiple rounds): Kazuha, Zhongli, Diluc, Thoma, Xiao, Cyno

This sweetheart always seems to find pleasure and enjoyment in simply making you feel good first. However romantic or lustful the night is, he always wants to start with you first and make you feel good first. Whether he makes you feel good first with his fingers, his lips or his tongue, he simply doesn’t care as long as you feel good.

You feel his tongue flick your clit gently, making you mewl. Your hand reaches forward and your fingers tangle themselves in his hair, pulling softly when he flicks his tongue yet again. “Do you want me to do more?” He says with a teasing tone. You can’t help but nod and tuck on his hair a little harder. “Please.. yes.”

Before you can say another word, his lips wrap gently around your clit and he starts to suck on it. His fingers teasingly massage your entrance, pushing only the tip of his middle finger in every once in a while. Your moans fill the room, your toes curling every time his tongue flicks your clit again and again, it just feels so good. Once he notices your mewling and moaning getting louder only then does he push one of his fingers in. Your other hand grabs onto the bedsheets, toes curling once again when you feel your climax getting closer and closer. He adds another digit inside, moving them in and out slowly and curling them almost perfectly to hit your g-spot over and over again.

Your mouth agape, your climax building up even more while the moans leave your throat and lips more dry. Eventually your grip on his hair tightens, your cunt clenching around his 2 digits before you cum on them. He lets you finish your orgasm before slowly removing his lips from your clit and his fingers from your entrance. “Did that feel good? We’re not done yet though, I hope you still have energy left for more~”

Romantically sets up candles & other romantic things as a surprise: Kazuha, Gorou, Albedo, Xiao, Tighnari

It doesn’t happen all the time but when it does happen you always feel so extremely thankful. The way you come to the bedroom and find the room filled with cute lit up candles and flower petals covering the floor and the bed, always ends up as a surprise to you. It’s a romantic surprise you will never reject. Your boyfriend also enters the room looking slightly nervous. It’s not that he’s nervous because you might not like it, he’s nervous because it might be a wrong time to have done this for you. Yet the moment he sees your smile show up brightly on your face, he knew he did good. “You did this for me? Why even?” You ask him. You clearly hear the surprise and happiness in the tone of your voice.

“I don’t know.. I wanted to surprise you once and thought today was the perfect day to do this for you.”

You feel your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. He really went out of his way to give you such a romantic surprise and you can’t be more thankful. “This is lovely,, You didn’t have to do this but thank you so much. It’s beautiful.”

“I’m so glad.” He wasn’t sure how to take the first step now after surprising you like this. All he could think about was kissing you but how should he? Yet when he turns around he’s already met with your sweet lips on his own. His hands hold your waist while he kisses you back, enjoying the excitement you show through your kissing. I guess his surprise was a success!

Thank you for reading! <3

Much love,

Angel

Made on: 24-05-2023

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tragedy-of-commons · 1 month

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lay your life down and pretty

various hsr x gn!reader | wc: ~2k

In which you die (or they've already lost you).

tags/warnings: character death (reader), it's implied in dh's part but explicit and semi-graphic in hanya's, descriptions of mara and the insanity that comes with it, hardcore angst, hurt no comfort, there may be Lore Inaccuracies

notes: this was originally supposed to be four parts. i'm sorry it's only two but it's just been uhhh... hope you enjoy & thanks for the incredible support lately <3

Dan Heng makes the best pancakes.

You’ve expressed this undeniable fact to his face multiple times, louder in their progression just to see the tips of his ears burn that endearing red. These declarations are reserved for breakfast. At this time you also chide him for trying to weasel his way out of eating the most important meal of the day!

And he’d sigh, letting you hound him about food options until he’d crack under the weight of your grin and end up mixing batter at 7:30 in the morning.

(“I tried flipping them in the air once and the pancake slapped me in the face,” you’d regaled, head resting idly on your fist.

Dan Heng stared into the black of the skillet. “...Somehow, I don’t doubt it.”

“And just what is that supposed to mean?” you huffed.

He almost let not-quite laugh slip then, but because of his stuck-uppery, he just managed to look peeved. “I would appreciate it if you passed me the butter.”)

Instead it is around 9:00 in the morning, and Dan Heng is alone.

He’d stayed up late the night before doing some reading, causing him to oversleep and rush the process today. He’s almost burned his hand on the stove eye twice, nearly dropped an egg on the floor, and has just narrowly avoided burning the batch. Dan Heng is not clumsy (not like you were), and he is painfully aware that he is late.

After he plates the food, the oven clock reads 9:19. He gathers everything, including two sets of utensils and one awkward wad of napkins - before setting the table by heart. Your plate goes in front of the chair closest to the window, and his goes in front of the one adjacent to yours.

The rhythm of distributing each item eventually leaves him with empty hands. Everything is ready, but there is still something colossal missing from the scene.

Dan Heng stares hard at your empty seat before taking his own.

The pancakes are blackened around the edges, but it’s nothing a good heaping portion of syrup can’t fix, and the smell that wafts upward is sweet and inviting. The sun’s rays shining in from the outside world paint the kitchen in flecks of light that occasionally catch on his arm when he brings his fork to his mouth.

Resigned, his silverware clatters noisily to the table.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, “I’m sorry that I was late.”

Predictably, there’s no response. Dan Heng’s throat feels like it’s closing up on him, and the syrup definitely isn’t helping. He dabs his mouth with his napkin for a good long while.

He is sorry. It wasn’t enough that he’d stayed up late the night before, but that he deliberately kept glancing at the clock and counting the hours until daylight arrived - reminding himself that if he drifted off, the next day would come much sooner.

He isn’t the type to procrastinate either. Even when you’re not here anymore, you seem to have a profound effect on his character. Dan Heng pinches the bridge of his nose. The sound of his voice echoing off the walls of the lonely kitchen is unwelcome. “Happy birthday.”

It’s strained, imperfect, and painful; which only serves to remind him of your insistence on celebrating his birthday as well. You had practically prostrated yourself at his feet, begging him to let you fuss over him - even if it made his vision hazy and palms sweaty. He needs to return the favor, even if the mere idea of another important date passing him up without you makes him want to hide.

So here he is.

Here he is, floundering terribly, missing you terribly, loving you terribly. Dan Heng wrenches his hand from its secure position in his lap to drum on the table.

“I got you something,” he says. “I… I didn’t know which color you’d prefer more, so…”

You’d tease him into an early grave if you were able to see the knitted oven mitt he’d picked out over two months ago. It’s an almost hideous shade of teal that he’s sure you’d love, especially since you forced him to bake with you regularly.

(He was shopping with March 7th when he’d seen it and then reflexively dumped it into his basket. His companion only asked him if he was planning on using it as kindling for the fireplace.)

Dan Heng closes his eyes and slides it over to your placement. For a second, he almost fools himself into thinking you might magically appear to brush fingers when you accept the gift with a bright smile. He has no such luck.

Your breakfast is getting colder, and there’s nothing to be done today; his friends, as much as he can say he appreciates them - also meddle quite a bit. His schedule was mysteriously cleared up and he was gently encouraged to go home and take the day off. The feeling of three pairs of eyes drilling holes into his back as he complied was a bit too potent to be coincidental.

So he sits there and pretends he’s eating with you for as long as he can. The stutters in the familiar rhythm that comes with today are things he can smooth out over time, even if it feels like a betrayal to you. You would never see it like that, which is why he can even live in a home without you in it at all.

(The oven mitt rests beside your full plate until the afternoon, because he cannot bring himself to clean up just yet. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be ready to.)

Dan Heng is not a man who can afford to hope, but he’s already been in debt since the moment of his birth. If just one of his prayers is granted, he hopes it’s the one he runs through his mind every night:

In the next life, please let us cross paths again. And if there’s room for it, please let me love you for as long as I can.

He’s never been one for optimism, but it’s all he looks forward to.

Hanya’s hands cradle the expanse of your face.

Her fingers ghost over any healthy glow remaining in your cheeks. You’re slipping, rightfully so, but does it make her a monster if she wants to claw and rifle through the sands of time to search for any universe where you were spared from this cruel fate?

(She thinks it does.)

You can’t get the words out, but there’s a resigned film that glazes over your eyes - one that tells her that she needn’t lie about where you’ll be going. Your mouth forms silent syllables punctuated by wheezes that will surely send her careening under the depths of the unconscious at record speed.

“Han.. ya,” you croak, “Stay.”

“I will,” she promises, because she needs to - over and over, until you remember it always, even when you’re gone. Even when you’re suffering through the last moments of your fledgling life. “I will remain here.”

Her duty as a Judge of the Ten-Lords Commission is to oversee life and death on the Xianzhou. When Hanya drifts aimlessly like a spectre between inky darkness and blinding daylight, it has occasionally struck her that one day she might have to oversee yours.

Presently, your mind is being swallowed by the maw of mara, a madness that she’s all too familiar with; faced with her dull countenance, she must have witnessed thousands succumb to the fate of infernal life.

“D-Don’t cry,” you beseech. There isn’t much time until you’re no longer Hanya’s secret reprieve, but instead a writhing abomination - and she only has herself to blame. Had she not embraced you so tightly, would you be free of this curse? Would you still be smiling and dragging her by the hand through Exalting Sanctum?

“I will not send you there,” she breathes, “You are not deserving of—”

The agonizing cry you let out next is still beautiful. Even now you can mitigate the emptiness that’s dug its claws in her heart so deep that it’s become symbiotic with the organ. However, instead of the empty, Hanya feels its distant relative: the pins and needles. The hollow white noise crackles until she’s pierced with an arsenal of skeletal knives.

She could take it, and she would take it, if it meant that you weren’t about to die and then awaken again as a monster that desecrates the very concept of you.

She releases your now matching tear-stricken cheeks before seizing both of your arms. The thrashing has crept in, meaning that there isn’t much time before you start sprouting leaves and weeds like a statue abandoned by its devotees.

A sharp inhale through clenched teeth. “You have… to. M’gonna hurt—” you convulse in her grasp, “—somebody...”

Of course you’re worrying about others right now. Kindness is a relic of the past that you’ve somehow managed to exhume, restore to its full glory, and gift to Hanya like she deserves to touch others’ lives in the same way you have.

Every shopkeep knows your name, face, voice, and smile. Your warmth is infectious - even before she knew you in person, she knew of you by word of mouth. Xueyi had told her that the reason Huohuo was so resolute in her duties lately was because of “the person who defeated a bunch of reprobate hooligan bullies tormenting her”.

If her big sister held you in high regard, she figured you were one she wouldn’t mind exchanging greetings with if you ever crossed paths. However, the thing about you is that you always give more than you take; you too eventually gave her your smile over tea, your opinion on her writing, and a perspective from the light she usually only smothers upon first contact.

It seems that it was just a matter of time before Hanya extinguished you.

“You are not ready,” she begs pitifully, “You are not!”

She knows it’s never about being ready. Bad things always happen to good people - to sons, daughters, friends, big sisters, and lovers.

Lovers.

The word is foreign on the tip of her tongue. It’s strange to be actualized and even stranger to ascribe that label to your relationship, but Hanya doesn’t know what else to think when the knives stab her over and over to the elegy of I love you, I love you, I love you.

The trek from Fyxestroll Garden to the Alchemy Commission is sizable. The Dragon Lady could see you and do her best, but she’s seen where that’s led; best efforts gone to waste, inconsolable loved ones given false hope because they were too stubborn to let go.

Is that what she is? Too stubborn to let you go, even when she’s brought this karma upon you?

(Yes, something ugly whispers, this is your penance. Now it’s theirs too.)

“I...” you let out a strangled groan, and when your chest jerks upwards, it barely registers that you brush your lips against hers. There’s tears and snot everywhere, and you’re getting stronger - too strong for her to hold. Hanya’s forearms ache with the strain as gingko leaves begin to ravage your humanity and rip you apart.

The transformation process is cruel, but she promised to remain by your side. Twigs protrude from your neck, nestled between thorny brambles that poke and prod. You are not a Cloud Knight, so your screams aren’t muffled by armor - or muted by the numbness she feels when dealing with other cases.

It’s too real, it’s too much, and it’s not enough.

Drowned out by the previous mantra of I love you, the background vocals of I’m so sorry peter off into whispers that are soon lost among the sickening squelch of Xueyi’s blade cutting through you in one clean motion. The tip of the sword rests over Hanya’s heart, stained with your blood.

“...That’s not them anymore,” her sister says. It’s off-kilter, the way her brow is furrowed in a silent apology.

One can only hope.

taglist: @flower-yi, @moineauz, @aphrodict, @nomazee

#—stellaronhvnters.#dan heng x reader #hsr x reader #hanya x reader #hsr dan heng x reader #hsr hanya x reader #honkai star rail x reader #star rail x reader #danheng x reader #dan heng hsr x reader #hanya hsr x reader #hsr dan heng #hsr hanya #honkai star rail #✧ my works

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harryistheonlyoneforme · 8 months

Text

ruin (6)*

warnings: fluff, smut, sex toy use, unprotected sex, oral

summary: in which harry takes yn on a nice picnic date and they go all the way

a/n: well guys, it’s been a longgggg time coming, but ruin is officially complete!!!🥳🥳🥳🥲🥲. i do have a couple ideas about some extras though, if you guys are interested in that. thank you so much for all of the love and support <3

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~one month later~

yn is just finishing up her makeup with the application of her favorite gloss, double checking for imperfections when her phone rings. she doesn’t even have to check to know that it’s harry alerting her of his arrival, ready for their date tonight. so she presses her screen to answer as she hurriedly grabs her purse.

“hello?” she picks up, trying to keep her voice level to sound as if she’s not literally running around her room right now. grabbing her desired scent for the day, she sprays the perfume in the ideal places and rests the phone between her shoulder and ear.

“hi, angel. ‘m outside whenever you’re ready, but there’s no need to rush,” he reassures her, a grin on his face at her failed attempt at feigning calm. he drums his fingers against the steering wheel with a chuckle as he hears her quiet but unmistakable sigh of relief.

“i’m on my way down now, actually, i won’t be long,” she replies, finally taking a moment to breathe. she hears him hum on the other end of the line before acknowledging her words, and they end the call quickly. yn takes her time, but not too much time, as she slips on her shoes and grabs a sweater to throw over her pretty summer dress, just in case the weather gets a bit chilly.

she takes one last glance at herself and checks her purse to double check she isn’t leaving anything before she’s heading out the door and to harry’s car, where he’s patiently waiting. when he sees her approaching his face lights up so bright it makes her heart melt, and he’s scrambling to get out of the car to greet her.

meeting her at the passenger side door, he wraps his arms around her waist and leans down to press a kiss to her lips but ultimately changes route to her cheek, remembering the story she once told him about kissing with her freshly glossed lips. her arms come up over his shoulders to wrap around his neck, and he’s caught by surprise when she presses her lips to his anyways.

harry can’t help but pull her closer and smile into the kiss, loving the way she simply doesn’t care about that sort of thing when it comes to him. they’re like that for just a few more moments, the both of them begrudgingly pulling away. they can’t resist one last sweet peck before harry’s stepping away and opening the car door for her, not even bothering to wipe the gloss away that’d transferred from her lips to his.

yn passes him a grateful smile and gets in the car, nodding to harry when she’s settled as a signal to close the door. he does so and jogs around to his side, hopping in and starting the car to begin the drive. turning out onto the main road, harry grabs his phone from the middle console and passes it to yn, briefly taking his eyes off the road seeing that she’s a bit confused.

“did you want to turn on some music while we drive? ‘s a bit of a ride there, don’t want y’to get bored of me,” he explains, hearing a small ‘ah’ of realization from his girl. she wastes no more time, unlocking his phone and opening his music app. a dimpled grin forms on harry’s face when he hears the unmistakable tune of ‘go your own way’ by fleetwood mac starting, the same song they listened to on the way to their first date at the diner.

she queues up a few more songs as the both of them hum along, and when she has what should be enough, she places the phone back where it’d been before harry picked it up. her hand naturally gravitates toward her lap to rest there, but the action is interrupted by harry’s warm hand, quickly intertwining their fingers before she can complete it.

a small smile forms on her face as she glances at him, watching him act as if he hasn’t done anything. she simply lifts his hand to her lips and presses a kiss to the back of it before letting their hands rest in her lap, humming along to the music as she looks out the car window.

the ride doesn’t seem as long as harry thought it would, and with all of the singing and conversation they have, before he knows it they’ve arrived at the park. he drives as slow as possible as they enter just so he can see yn’s reaction to the scenery, his heart melting as he watches the way her face lights up when she sees the pretty flowers that line the entrance of the park.

she swoons at all of the butterflies around, the ducks in a pond nearby, and all of it just confirms each and every thought he’s ever had of spending the rest of his life with her. harry continues driving until he can see the area he’d previously scouted out, parking the car near it. he hops out the car and runs around to her side, opening the door and squatting down next to her.

“i’m gonna go over and set up, angel, then i’ll be right back to get you, alright?” he questions, his eyes taking in every square inch of her face as if he’ll ever forget it. he takes her hand in his as she nods, bringing it to his lips briefly before standing up and heading to the trunk of the car.

he quickly grabs everything out that he needs; blankets, the food, a pillow for her to rest on if she’d like to, drinks, and the small bag that holds the toys he’s brought if she wants to use them. closing the trunk, he hauls everything over to the spot he’d chosen, maneuvering through the few trees until he sees the huge clearing of land, perfectly hidden for peak privacy. there’s a small pond just ahead with some ducks swimming around, and he knows yn would love to feed them when she sees them. harry quickly sets everything up how he wants it, making sure everything is perfect before he stands up to head back to his girl.

making his way through the trees once more, he has the brightest dimpled smile on his face the moment his car is in his line of sight. he can see yn sitting there and waiting patiently for his return, doing something on her phone. she looks up and gives him a bright smile when she sees him, harry opening the door so that she can hop out. he closes the door and she practically skips toward the trees she’d watched him go through, harry having to jog a bit to keep up.

when they make it through the maze of trees, he can’t help the way his smile gets brighter when he hears her gasp at the sight of the picnic. all of her favorite fruits, drinks, and her favorite sandwich from the diner they went to on their first date. all the little things that make her just melt for him, turning her into a puddle of gratitude and thankfulness right before his eyes.

he chuckles when he hears her squeal of excitement as she notices the ducks, pointing to them so that he can see them as well. they get onto the blanket after she gushes over them for a while, harry sitting down first so that yn can sit right across from him, and that she does, digging in as soon as she’s comfortable.

the two snack on fruits and split the sandwich as they talk for a long time, sharing stories from their pasts and their plans for the future. they don’t even realize that they subconsciously get closer and closer with time, until her legs are draped over his lap, harry’s hand running up and down her calf. well, he doesn’t, at least. he doesn’t pick up on the way that some of her sentences die off with each passing of his hand, or the way her breathing picks up whenever his hand goes higher.

not until his hand grazes her knee, finally, and she finally snaps, a quiet moan falling from her lips. harry stops right in the middle of his sentence, looking at her with raised eyebrows. “what was that, angel?” he questions, wanting to make sure she’s alright. “did i hurt you?” he pulls his hand away.

she’s quick to shake her head and reach for him again, and he thinks she’s going to place it back onto her knee but she actually moves further underneath her dress, right to where she needs him. his fingers meet the warmth of her center and he can’t hold back the moan that bubbles in his throat, exploring the area. it’s then that everything hits him, and realization dawns on him. a chuckle and a hum falls from his lips, his hand moving from underneath her dress.

“alright, baby. i see. won’t make you want any longer,” he croons, leaning toward her and pressing a kiss to the side of her mouth. she whimpers and leans into his touch before turning her head in search of his lips. he pulls away at the last second, causing her to let out a huff of frustration. “take y’panties off for me, angel. ‘s gonna be plenty of time for you t’kiss me, don’t worry,” he finishes, a smirk playing on his lips.

she hurriedly removes her legs from his lap, standing up and sliding her panties down her legs. she doesn’t bother stepping out of them when they reach the blanket beneath her feet, reaching for the bottom of her dress. harry reaches up and stops her. “keep that on for me, ‘s okay,” he murmurs. she drops the bottom of her dress just as he reaches down to grab the panties from underneath her, causing her to let out a giggle at how the dress sweeps over his face.

harry chuckles just a bit at her before tapping gently at her ankle, and she fully steps out of them for him before dropping down to her knees to sit right in front of hum. grasping them in his hand, he lets out a hum as his eyes flit up to meet hers. he runs his thumb over the center of them, the wetness of the material leaving his thumb a bit wet. holding them up to her, he watches her eyes widen a bit at the sight of the ruined material before she drags them away and off to the side somewhere to look anywhere but him.

he uses his free hand to reach up and gently grip her jaw, turning her head to face him. “no, need you to look at me bunny, it isn’t polite to be somewhere else when i’m in front of you,” he scolds, knowing he isn’t actually upset with her but she needs that in order to obey him. she hesitantly drags her eyes back to his, forcing her embarrassment down. “come down here,” he demands.

she instantly obliges and drops down to her knees before him, trying her hardest not to look away when he holds the ruined panties up to her. “need you to clean them for me, don’t want them to be ruined forever, bunny. ‘s expensive,” he explains vaguely, and she furrows her brows before turning to grab a napkin to clean them. a grunt of disapproval stops her, though, and she turns back to face him. “don’t need that. with your mouth, baby,” he corrects.

her eyes widen slightly at what he’s suggesting, but she’ll do almost anything for him, and although it’s a bit humiliating, it turns her on like no other. squeezing her thighs together, she bites down a moan and grabs the panties from him, flattening the material on her palm so that the crotch section is in her line of sight. she tries to avoid his eyes but she should’ve known better, harry’s hand coming up to grip her chin so their eyes can meet.

the impatient yet oddly calming look in his eyes is the last push she needs, her tongue peeking out of her mouth quickly to get to work on the wet fabric. she moans at the taste of herself, harry’s eyes still boring into hers as she cleans her mess. it’s not long before she cleans as much as she can, holding them up for harry to see.

“good girl,” he hums, taking the panties from her before reaching behind him to grab the bag that holds the toys. retrieving the bag, he turns back to her. the moment her eyes land on the bag, they light up as she has a good feeling about what the contents are. “lie down on your stomach for me, brought a surprise for you,” he grins, and she hurriedly scrambles to do so.

he unzips the bag and grabs the dildo he’d packed, along with some lube although he’s sure he won’t need it with how drenched she is. yn wants nothing more than to watch what he’s doing, but the suspense just makes her all the more excited. zipping the bag back up, he tosses it beside him before opening up the lube and pouring it onto the dildo. when it’s heavily coated, he places the lube down and uses his now free hand to push her dress up over her hips, tapping at her thigh to get her to spread them a bit more.

she takes the hint and does what he signaled, gasping when she almost immediately feels the toy against her heated lower lips. his actions are slow, teasing, even, as he adds more pressure so that the toy spreads her open, but he doesn’t immediately press in into her awaiting hole. with a roll of her eyes and a cry of frustration, she attempts to press her ass toward the toy, earning her a gentle but firm slap on her right ass cheek, a warning.

he isn’t surprised when she doesn’t fight back, and he rewards her lack of retaliation by finally pressing the toy into her, inching it in slowly as she gasps at the intrusion. when it bottoms out he leaves it there for her to adjust for a while, and after a few minutes she starts to get impatient. she tries her hardest not to show it, but he can tell she’s holding back, so he begins to move it inside of her, pulling it out just to push it back in. he keeps his actions steady and precise as her moans pick up, and it’s not long before she’s announcing her quickly approaching orgasm, no more words said as it immediately wracks her body.

she cums around the toy with a loud cry of relief, her body slumping against the blanket beneath her as she rides out the high. harry continues slowly moving the toy inside of her to prolong the orgasm, only stopping when she jolts a bit in overstimulation. he then pulls it out of her as slowly as possible, biting down a moan when he sees the glisten on the toy and her slightly gaping hole clenching around nothing in search of being filled again.

her breaths are still a bit shallow so he helps her out if her dress before urging her onto her back and keeping his hands on her body to ground her. she comes back to him within minutes, a sigh of contentment leaving her lips, swollen from biting them. harry honestly expects her to tap out then and there, tuckered out and ready to go home, but when she sits up to press her lips to his in the most desperate way, he can tell she wants more. and that he’ll give her.

without breaking their lips, harry pushes her onto her back once more, his hands exploring her body. when he reaches her chest, he can’t resist taking her nipples between his fingers and pinching them, just enough to make her moan into his mouth. he pulls away from the kiss first, shushing her groan of annoyance before reaching down between them and freeing his cock from its confines. her eyes widen as she realizes what’s about to happen; it’s what he’s been preparing her for, and she wants nothing more than to take it there.

he pushes his pants down to the thickness of his thighs and runs his thumb over his leaking tip, shuddering at that first touch of pleasure. a broken whimper falls from her lips as she watches him get himself ready for her, inpatient as ever. she doesn’t complain anymore, though, as he crawls to her until their bodies are touching, grabbing one of her legs and lifting it to get a better view.

using his free hand, he strokes his cock a few more times before lining up with her dripping and awaiting hole.

“‘m gonna go slow, angel. take real good care of you,” he promises, eyes exploring every inch of her face to make sure there’s no uncertainty or anxiety. she acknowledges his words with a confident nod, her hips bucking up to try and gain some sort of friction for her throbbing center.

taking his hand from her leg, he thinks it’d be better to have a distraction just in case there is a bit of a sting from the stretch, as he’s slightly thicker than her toy. longer, too. so he reaches between them and rubs gentle circles onto the head of her clit, pulling a contented hum from her. he keeps that up as he finally presses the head of his cock inside, happy that he doesn’t feel too much resistance from her tight hole.

his gaze flits up to her face and when he sees her with her eyes closed and a blissed out look on her face, he takes it as a green light. still moving slow, he presses himself into her until his hips meet her body, groans coming from the both of them when he passes over the thickest part. harry stays like that until he’s sure she won’t hurt when he moves, his thumb still drawing circles on her clit. his thrusts are slow and gentle when he starts moving, using his legs as leverage more than anything to get as deep inside her as possible.

“how’s it feel, bunny?” he questions, voice gentle and soothing. “‘s it feeling nice? not painful for you?” his voice comes out shaky, his teeth ground together as some form of keeping himself restrained. he’s forcing down each and every thought of absolutely wrecking his sweet girl, knowing she can’t handle that right now.

“‘s good, ‘s good, so deep inside me,” he whines beneath him, untucking her lip from between her teeth to get her words out. “my tummy’s so full, feels nice,” she finishes with a moan and a jolt when he angles his hips just a bit so that the head of his cock hits her g-spot head on.

“there we go, angel. that’s the spot i was looking for, know it gets you all dumb for me when i touch that, hm?” he coos condescendingly, adding just enough force to his thrusts that he has to hold her down by her hips with each one. she can’t even speak anymore, the constant assault on that spot inside of her rendering her speechless and her body numb. not a single coherent thought can be formed as the peak precision of his thrusts push her closer and closer to what she’s been craving.

removing his hands from her hips, harry decides to speed up the process just a bit by grabbing the backs of her thighs and pushing them up as far as they can go, holding them there with one hand and bringing the other to where their bodies meet, his thumb finding its way through her folds until he gets to her clit, pressing it right onto the head and rubbing firm circles in time with his thrusts. the added sensation and angle change draws a long, drawn out moan from her, her hands flying out on either side of her to push her up onto her palms a bit. the pleasure she’s feeling is so intense that she tries to both run away from it and lean into it, squirming away just for her hips to grind down to meet his thrusts.

“no, gotta take it, baby. almost there, know you’re so close for me,” he rasps, quickly removing the hand from her thighs and leaning forward to press some of his weight on top of her for better control. the feeling of harry’s warmth enveloping her sends her flying over the edge unexpectedly, the ball of pleasure that’s deep in her tummy practically exploding.

her back arches up off the blanket and into his chest as far as she can with him on top of her and her legs, eyes rolling back into her head. the orgasm takes over her body before she can even comprehend it, her hole fluttering around him for a moment before locking down onto his cock so hard that he has to squeeze his eyes shut, his balls drawing up so unexpectedly and intensely that it practically knocks the breath from his lungs.

“oh, fuck bunny- shit, ‘s squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight, can’t hold it,” he gasps, accent as thick as ever as he grips onto the blanket beneath his palms. his hips stutter in rhythm for just a second, the final warning sign of his orgasm. he barely has time to push himself up and pull out of her, cum shooting from his tip just as he frees himself. one hand flies to the backs of her thighs as the other begins to stroke his cock quickly, milking himself for all he has. his cum is already painting the back of one of her thighs, dripping down to her ass with each passing second.

yn can barely see him from the small space between her legs, but just hearing him so wrecked from being inside of her makes her throb in excitement once again, a needy whimper falling from her lips when she hears him choke on a sob and feels something warm land right onto her pussy. she’s in the position for no more than a minute longer as his moans die down and his furious strokes become slower, and when her thighs are freed from the confines of his hand, she can’t help but keep them there and reach up to the one that’s covered in his orgasm and swipe a finger through.

dropping her legs finally, she looks harry right in the eyes as she brings that same hand up to her mouth and takes the finger inside, her tongue moving around it to get the full taste of him. harry can do nothing but let his eyes flutter closed as a choked moan falls from his lips. he wants nothing more than to simply wreck her until she’s crying and drooling but he can’t do that now, she’s not ready. he doesn’t even think he’ll be able to get it back up now, not with how she absolutely drained him.

so he does the next best thing; without even bothering to clean up the mess that covers the both of them, he adjusts himself until he’s flat on his stomach, grabbing the outsides of her thighs when he’s eye level with her pussy. “‘m gonna take care of you, bunny. don’t worry. gonna clean you up too,” he whispers, eyes meeting hers when he hears a desperate cry come from her. she’s already so sensitive that he knows it won’t take long to make her cum, but that doesn’t mean he should half ass it.

pressing gentle kisses to the soft skin of her thighs, he ignores her huffs of frustration when he doesn’t immediately start licking into her. the kisses travel closer and closer to where she’s messy and throbbing for him, but they are way too slow for her taste. one last groan comes from her before she’s had enough, propping herself up on an elbow and reaching forward with her free hand, grabbing the back of his head and pushing his face onto her.

a noise of shock leaves him at how bold she’s become, but he has to respect it, chuckling against her before nipping at one of her swollen lower lips. she gasps quietly at the sting but it melts into a moan as he, in one fell swoop, licks into her folds before sucking her swollen and sensitive clit into his mouth. her grip tightens on him and she grinds her hips against him to chase the pleasure, tossing her head back as her back arches up from the blanket.

the tug on his hair forces a groan of delight from him and he only buries his face further into her, beginning to alternate between licking and sucking at her. the vibrations rumble into her body, the knot in her belly tightening out of nowhere. she’s become incoherent above him the closer she gets to her orgasm, wordless babbles leaving her lips as she tries to warn him of it.

his actions simply increase tenfold, licks and sucks a bit more precise as he pulls the orgasm from her. just a few moments later he feels her thighs start to fight to tighten around his head and a long, loud moan falls from her lips as her final orgasm wracks her body. she goes so stiff that her thigh muscles begin to cramp slightly, her legs shaking from the force.

harry begins to lick at her a bit gentler than he had before so he can avoid overstimulating her too much, his hands caressing her thighs while she tries to recover. for her, it feels like forever until her body fully relaxes, small aftershocks jolting her body with each relaxation. she’s gasping for air when her body is finally freed, her chest heaving from the intensity of everything.

he notices some tears that have leaked down the sides of her face, and he takes a wipe from the container he’d brought and cleans her face thoroughly before grabbing some more to clean up her lower half. when he gets to her vagina she gasps and pulls away in overstimulation, causing him to frown just a bit. “i know, bunny. just have t’get you cleaned up ‘s all. won’t be long,” he coos, using one hand to spread her open gently and the other to gingerly wipe the area.

once she’s all clean he moves to the backs of her thighs, wiping his sticky, drying cum from them. it takes a bit more effort to do so, but he isn’t complaining, taking his time and keeping an eye on her breathing. when she’s fully clean, he helps her sit up and puts her dress back onto her, murmuring words of encouragement each step of the way. “can you stand up, angel? think you can walk to the car with me or do y’need some help?” he questions, voice soft as to not disturb the calm and quiet state of her.

“i can walk, i think,” she responds, and harry hops up before reaching back down to help her up. she’s a bit shaky for a moment but she becomes stable after a few seconds of being on her feet. he guides her to the car slowly, and he’s surprised for a moment that she isn’t wincing or limping a bit, but he quickly realizes it’s probably due to the adrenaline rush she’s feeling.

they make it to the car and he helps her in before pressing a kiss to her head and then running back to clean up their area. walking back to the car, he smiles fondly at her as he realizes she’s already fallen asleep, light snores leaving her parted lips. he packs everything into the trunk and hops into the driver’s seat.

the drive back is nothing short of calm and peaceful, some song she’d added to the queue on the drive there playing softly in the vehicle. he makes it to his house before he knows it, and when he pulls into his garage he turns the car off before running into the house and up the stairs to quickly start a bath for her. he does the works; bubbles, soothing oils, and he lights a candle that is on his counter before running back down to the car to unload it. he does so as quietly as possible because he wants waking her up to be the last thing so that she can just wake up and get in the bath.

he takes a bit to put away everything from the car and when he goes to check the bath, it’s ready for her. turning the water off, he heads back down to the garage to wake her up. knocking on the passenger side window, he gives her some time to lift her head before opening the door, chuckling at her when he sees the confusion on her face as well as a mark on her from the door. “we’re at my house, angel. i ran you a bath and i want to clean you up a bit and then i promise i’ll let you sleep,” he whispers, and she nods a bit grumpily from being woken up but a bath sounds heavenly so she obliges.

stepping out of the car, she does start to feel that slight sting between her legs from the stretch and the burn in her thighs from the angle he had her in, but she brushes it off as she knows the bath will work wonders. they step into the bathroom and it’s just like all of the emotions of the day, the month even, hit her at once. her eyes well with tears and her shoulders slump when they take over her, and she turns her body to bury her face into his chest.

“thank you, thank you,” she sobs against him, and his heart both breaks and warms for her, his arms coming to wrap around her. they stay there for a while as she gets all of her emotions out, harry whispering encouragement words and pressing kisses to the top of her head. her breath is still a bit stutter-y as she pulls away from him, quickly turning to the toilet paper to clean herself up, but he beats her to it, grabbing some off the roll and cleaning her up. she’s so grateful that she gets a bit teary again, but then harry starts to press kisses all over her face, making her giggle.

“alright, bunny. let’s get you in the bath,” he instructs, tossing the toilet paper out. he pulls the dress over her head once more and she steps out of her shoes. being naked in front of him, she expects to feel a bit self conscious despite how many times he’s seen her, but this time she feels nothing but warm and fuzzy. full, even, as he smiles at her with a look of pure adoration in his eyes.

she walks over to the tub and steps in, humming at the temperature of the water, it’s actually perfect for her. the water covers her up to around her armpits and she relishes in the warmth before looking up at her boyfriend expectantly. he laughs at the look on her face before explaining himself. “i’m gonna get in with you, don’t worry, ms grumpy, just need to grab some towels and clothes for when we get out,” he chuckles, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her lips as if to seal his promise.

a belly laugh leaves him when he’s walking out and he hears her mumble something about not taking too long or she won’t let him in. he knows she won’t make good on her words but he still hurries back to her, wanting to be near her. he makes it back to her and quickly sheds his clothes, walking over to the tub and having her scoot up so he can slide behind her. the warmth envelops him and he envelops her, wrapping his arms around the front of her to pull her closer.

they stay like that for a while, so long that their fingers have gone pruny by the time they pull apart. harry is the one that breaks the contact, and he only does so because he notices that she starts to doze off, and he wants to clean her up before she falls asleep again. she grumbles a bit at the slight loss of warmth but when she feels harry start to clean her up, she understands.

he takes his time and cleans her up thoroughly before letting her sit there for a few while he cleans himself up. when he’s all clean he steps out of the tub first, drying off a bit before wrapping the towel around his waist and then he’s helping her out and doing the same for her, wrapping the towel around her upper body. harry guides them to the bedroom and drops the towel from his waist to slip on some boxers before making sure yn is fully dry and grabbing the t shirt he’d picked out earlier and helping her slide it over her head. he decided not to give her a pair of his boxers to sleep in so that he could let her lower half breathe through the night.

pulling back the blankets on the bed, he lets her get in and comfortable, passing her the remote to his tv so she can pick something to fall asleep to. while she does that, he goes downstairs and grabs her a bottled water from his fridge, downing one for himself before going back up. he opens the bottle and passes it to her, to which she thanks him and drinks all of it in record time. she finishes the drink and he takes it from her to place on the nightstand to toss tomorrow, hitting the light and climbing into the bed beside her.

a fond smile forms on his face when he sees that the show she chose for the night is rick and morty, something he remembers her telling him a couple weeks ago. the volume isn’t too loud as to keep them awake, the sound just loud enough to make out the words of the characters.

the two sit and watch the show until their eyes become unbearably heavy, and when harry feels yn slide down even further under the blankets before cuddling into him, he wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes open even if he wanted to. so he wraps his arms around her and pulls her even closer, despite knowing that they’ll get hot sometime soon, and he presses one last kiss to the top of her head before the exhaustion finally catches up to them and they’re asleep in seconds, light snores leaving their lips.

well…🥲

537 notes · View notes

hom3landr · 8 months

Note

homelander + bear hugs? 🥹

Apple Pie

A short interlude between Homelander and his favorite baker.

1 2 3

Homelander fights the urge to throttle Ashley as she follows behind him like an anxious chihuahua, yapping some nonsense about some Gala he’s contracted to show up to this evening. He can’t even remember what it’s for, just that it's more of Vought sucking its own dick while he endures hours of buttering up senators and shooting bright smiles at the ever present cameras. He’d been excited at first because he thought you might be there. He could just escape to whatever sad corner you would be working in if it all got to be too much. Except you won’t be there because someone approved your request for time off. He shoots Ashley a sideways glare.

The leather of his gloves creak as he clenches his fist. You won’t be back to work again until Monday and it is still only Friday. You’ve already been gone since last Monday. It’s driving him insane. The two of you don’t even get the chance to talk everyday normally but knowing that you won’t be there if he needs you… It makes him feel itchy and out of sorts. He misses you.

He’s so close to snapping as Ashley prattles on but the rapid sound of running footsteps has his brow wrinkling. His heart flutters in his chest as a familiar scent wafts through the hallway. It can’t be…

He turns.

Eager arms wrap around his neck, warm and soft and so so so incredibly close.

He doesn’t notice Ashley scurry off out of sight. He doesn’t notice much of anything other than you. He’s vaguely aware that he’s in a public hallway and that anyone could turn the corner and witness this. He frankly doesn’t give a shit.

He’s never been this close to you before. He can see every freckle, every pore, every imperfection and blemish. He doesn’t concern himself with any of that. As far as he is concerned, you’re the most perfect thing he’s ever seen. He’s holding you tight around the waist, your legs dangling, heartbeat pressed against his. Your chapstick smells like warm apple pie.

It’s like he manifested you from thin air by sheer wanting. Perfect. Soft. You.

Your eyes crinkle at the corners as you beam at him. He spins you around just so he can hear you giggle. He’s pathetic. He’s pathetic and whipped and fuck…He can’t fucking think when you look at him like that.

“Surprise!” You grin.

“It certainly is.” His answering smile is blinding.

He commits every inch of you to memory. You’re not wearing your typical work clothes, instead you’re in shorts and a top with straps so thin that it wouldn’t take any effort for him to grab one and tug it apart. The previously hidden expanse of deliciously smelling skin has his mouth watering.

He should put you down. He should.

But you aren’t pulling away or wiggling around. You seem perfectly content to be held in his arms, fingers shyly brushing the nape of his neck. He doesn’t know why you’re back early. He doesn’t care.

“I wanted to bring you something from my trip.” You respond shyly.

“Aren’t I the lucky one?” He winks and there it is. He’s flustered you. He loves flustering you.

He feels himself beginning to harden in his suit and it takes a second to realize that you’re pressed so closely that it won’t be long before you’ll be feeling it too. It’s so tempting to stay just like this. He wants you to feel what you do to him. He needs you to know that he wants you too.

But the timing and setting isn’t right. So with a burdened sigh, he lets you go. He laments the loss of you against him. So he reaches out to lay a steadying hand on your shoulder, although he handled you so carefully that you felt no jostling at all. The contrast between the crimson of his glove and your soft skin only serves to fuel the fire burning inside him. His suit is becoming uncomfortably tight but he’ll have to take care of that later.

“So I went back and visited my home town. Every year they have this HUGE baking contest. I’d always wanted to do it but I never had the confidence,” Your words are spilling out like water from a jug. You’re talking way too fast but you’re too cute for him to interrupt, especially when your hands start getting involved too as you gesture. “Well this time I did it! I entered my chocolate cake recipe, the one you helped me with. Guess what!!!”

You pull something out of your back pocket and happily show it off. You’re bouncing on your heels as his eyebrows wrinkle in slight confusion. You’re holding out a cheap blue ribbon. The fabric is polyester and one of the tails is already starting to fray. The plaque is flimsy plastic with a bold #1 printed on it. But you’re looking at it as though it was made of silk and gold. You gesture for him to take it and he does, regretfully removing his hand from you.

“I couldn’t have done it without you! So I wanted you to have the ribbon. Since we both kinda won it. I don’t want to take all the credit.” You beamed.

You… You came all the way back to the Tower when you still had time off to give him a shitty ribbon? He appreciates the gesture even while he looks at it with barely veiled disdain. What he really enjoys is your words. They were absolutely correct of course. Your old recipe was a stinker. He doubted you’d have even gotten an honorable mention without his impeccable palate helping you. But the real gift you brought him wasn’t the ugly ribbon. He’d just wanted to see you.

It wasn’t until later, after you’d had to leave, that he truly appreciated the ugly little ribbon. He ran it through his fingers as he lay naked in bed. It was cheap but it meant something.

We both won it.

He sits straight up as a realization hits him. He remembers painfully that stupid fake house they’d made for his fake childhood. How his bedroom had been so infuriatingly “perfect.” He remembered how much it hurt to talk about all the trophies he’d won. Well…

He looks down at the ribbon in his hands. It looked exactly like that fake shit they’d put in his room. Except this was real. He’d won this. You’d told him so. It was his, ugly as it was.

He clears off the table next to his bed, just to make a little spot for his new trophy.

Yeah he fucking was.

#homelander #x reader #homelander x reader #homelander headcanons #I missed them #bakerverse

560 notes · View notes

punksdoll · 6 months

Note

OOPS SORRY i was the one who sent the rhea request for in the night but i forgot to give a plot - how about an enemies to lovers between reader and rhea, there at a club for a superstars birthday and reader gets really drunk and starts flirting with rhea?

~~~𝑨𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅~~~

pt 2 of always loved

pt.3 of always loved

gif not mine like, comments, & reblogs appreciated

𝑹𝒉𝒆𝒂 𝑹𝒊𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒚 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ^owner of gif

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚’𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆

𝒂/𝒏: 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒂𝒍🙌🏼(𝒓𝒉𝒆𝒂 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒂𝒍 𝒐𝒏𝒆.) 𝒊 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕, 𝒊 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖<𝟑 (𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝟐 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒏 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒖𝒑:))

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒃𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑(𝒂𝒌𝒂 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖), 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒖𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆, 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆😞,𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒔 𝒅𝒓𝒖𝒏𝒌, 𝒓𝒉𝒆𝒂 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓, (𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓), 𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒂 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒘, 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇, 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕

not proofread

Y/n stares at herself through at the mirror. Staring at the black and blue bruise that’s forming on her jaw as she tries fighting the tears that are threatening to spill. She had to get going before he wakes up.

Y/n starts covering up the bruises as best as she can, biting down the winces that she wants to let out. He was asleep and she wants to make sure he stays like that until she leaves.

Today was her friend Bianca’s birthday and she was told to come. She had no choice to go, not wanting to bring her friend down on her special day.

Today she had done everything right. She made sure everything was perfect and there wasn’t no imperfections that he would notice yet it wasn’t enough for him. It never was.

Which is why she’s holding back the frustrating tears while applying her mascara. She was going to push this all back and let herself loose, she’ll deal with the consequences tomorrow. Whether it was a beat down or a shout down.

*Bzz*

Y/n looks down at her phone to see a message from Bianca.

BB💋: hey girl, Rhea is goin be here. Hope you don’t mind🫶🏼

Y/n closes her eyes immediately and already can feel her wall breaking down as she blinks the tears away furiously. Rhea Ripley. The woman that would make her work life miserable yet she couldn’t help herself but fall in love with her.

She was so used to the teasing and the mean comments Rhea would give her that she didn’t even think about Rhea giving those feelings back. So instead, she pushed her feelings back and would give Rhea the same treatment she gives her, even if it hurt her.

She finishes up and changes in the bathroom, being as quiet as possible. She wears a black jumpsuit to cover up the other bruises that litter on her body and puts a green dress over it, pairing it with some ankle boots. She looks at herself and plasters a fake smile before nodding and dropping it. It hurt too much to keep it on. She grabs her phone and bag before opening the bathroom door as quietly as possible, taking a glance over at her bed where he is sound asleep as if he doesn’t ruin her life by existing. She walks out and goes over to the nightstand, grabbing his keys and rushing out the room and downstairs.

She gets outside and gets in the car, opening Bianca’s message and sending a message back.

me: It’s your birthday babe, I won’t be making any of my problems, a problem at your party.🫶🏼

•••

“you made it!” Bianca squeals as she rushes over to y/n and throws her arms around her, giving her a bone crushing hug that almost hurt.

It did hurt.

Y/n grunts and gives her a hug back, “I couldn’t miss your big day.” She grunts out and moves away quickly, the pain being unbearable.

“I had Rhea promise not to be mean today so you’ll be enjoying yourself with a Rhea mean free day.” Bianca smiles as she leads y/n over to the bar. “Now let’s party!”

Y/n smiles and follows Bianca towards the bar where there’s jell-o shots lined up, ready to taken. “Are we taking all of this?”

“uh yes girl, yes we are.” Bianca smiles and hands one over to her right as Rhea makes her way to them.

“Look who finally showed up.” Rhea looks y/n up and down.

“Rhea.” Bianca gives the woman a look, “Don’t start please.” Bianca pleaded.

“Listen to the birthday girl Rhea.” Y/n gives Rhea a side glance as she takes the jell-o down.

Rhea raises an eyebrow, “oh i am, just making sure you know the terms and conditions yourself.” Rhea grabs one of the jell-o shots as well, taking one down.

“i understand it better then you do.” Y/n narrows her eyes.

“Is tha-“

“Rhea and y/n. Y’all both better shut the hell up and enjoy yourselves and not fight.” Bianca gives them both a look that reminds y/n of a mother giving their children the mother stare when they act badly.

this is one of those moments.

“tell her immature ass that…” y/n mumbles under her breath, taking another jell-o shot.

“Is there a problem.” Rhea turns herself to y/n who simply stares at her.

“You’re the one that was coming at me the first chance you got.”

Bianca stares at both woman, annoyance clear in her face as she watches them go back and forth. Bianca knew about the secret love that Y/n had going on with the person she was arguing with right now. She always mentioned how she should just say something instead of covering up with pointless arguments. Her excuse would always be…

“I have a boyfriend.” Y/n frowns as she watches Bianca do her hair.

“A boyfriend you don’t even love?” Bianca questions with a raised eyebrow.

Silence.

Bianca did not know about what went on behind closed doors but she does know that y/n doesn’t love that man. Her love going to the one person that, to Bianca, hurts her more than anyone.

if only she knew, huh?

“Y’all got about 3 seconds to stop arguing before I whoop yalls ass.” Bianca gives them both looks at y/n immediately shuts up with a scowl, alongside Rhea. “Have fun. Enjoy this party and maybe even enjoy each other’s company. Argue tomorrow or something.” Bianca walks away, leaving both woman alone.

Y/n looks at Rhea up and down before completely walking away. She was not about to let someone ruin her time when she came here to let loose and let her troubles, trouble her tomorrow.

•••

Y/n felt the buzz going through her veins the more drinks she takes and the more she let herself loose. She could feel herself getting hotter as the party went on in full swing. She could feel herself slurring out words that aren’t even supposed to be said. She could feel herself get comfortable with the one person she didn’t need to see her like this.

Y/n spotted Rhea in the corner, by herself, as she watched everyone around her get drunk. Sober y/n would have laughed in her face and make fun of her being alone. Drunk y/n would be stupid and do the complete opposite.

“lookie lookie…” y/n stumbles over to Rhea, tripping over her feet as she lands next to where Rhea is sat. “you look extra pretty by yourself and when your not talking.” y/n slurs as she admires Rhea who is looking at her shocked and confused.

“You’re drunk…” Rhea scoots away from y/n who only scoots closer, eventually trapping Rhea in a corner.

“You’re pretty…” y/n smiles, “I like it when you keep your hair shorter, makes you so much hotter. Your long hair is pretty too but it can get in your face a lot which doesn’t let me see that pretty face.” Y/n rambles on.

Rhea feels her face burning up as she stares at the woman she’d always pick on, call her pretty. “you are drunk…” Rhea gently pushes Y/n away. “You need to go home.”

Y/n frowns and shakes her head, “I don’t like home…that’s not home.” Y/n lays her head down on Rhea’s shoulder, making her tense. “I hate it there…it’s so bad. He’s bad.” Y/n mumbles.

Rhea looks down at y/n and frowns, “what are you talking about?”

“he hurts me…” y/n puts her chin on Rhea’s shoulder and stares at her, “would you hurt me? I know you speak a lot of mean things but if we were together, would you use them physically?”

Rhea’s eyes widened as he pulls away from Y/n completely to grab her shoulders, “what does he do to you y/n?”

“you didn’t answer my questions,” y/n pouts.

“No…no I wouldn’t.” Rhea shakes her head immediately, “now answer my question.”

y/n blinks lazily, “what was your question?”

“what does he do to you?” Rhea asks again.

“hurts me.” y/n stares at Rhea and smiles, “your eyes are really pretty. I wonder what they look like when they’re in love…”

Rhea stares at y/n, “you already are…” she whispers before standing up abruptly. “We need to take you home…”

“Nah…i like it here.” Y/n stares at Rhea, “i like being here…with you. Even if your mean to me sometimes.”

Rhea feels a pang of guilt hit her as she stares down at y/n who is looking at her with such adoration that she never seen before until now. “I’m sorry…” Rhea finds herself apologizing as she sits down. “I don’t mean to be…”

Y/n looks at her and frowns, “then why do it? I only like when people are mean to me in bed, it’s hot.” Y/n shrugs as she grabs Rhea’s drink that she long ago abandon and drinks it. “I bet you’d be hot in bed. Are you?”

 Rhea goes red immediately as she stares at y/n in horror. The way the events are going from serious and unserious is way too much for Rhea to handle yet she wants more of that unseriousness. She knows that it’d be best to get the serious answers when y/n is sober knowing it’d be wrong to find something out like this, while someone’s drunk.

Rhea clears her throat and takes away the drink y/n had in her hand, “you need to sober up….”

“You need to stop being mean to me.” Y/n leans towards Rhea, “I only accept mean sex.”

Rhea puts her face in her hands as she shakes her head, “you need to…keep those to yourself.”

“You’d be so much hotter if you’d keep your mouth shut…” y/n mumbles, “i’m lying by the way.”

Rhea looks at her amused before shaking her head, “C’mon.” Rhea stands up, “I’m going to take you to my place.”

“Are you gonna fuck?” Y/n finds herself jumping up almost immediately only to stumble a bit as she feels herself get dizzy.

Rhea quickly settles her and shakes her head, “I’d never do that when you’re like this…” Rhea leads y/n towards the exit of the club, already seeing the look she’s getting from Bianca herself.

“So you would fuck me?” Y/n asks as the wind hits her when both her and Rhea walk out the club.

“No comment…” Rhea mumbles as she leads her to her car and opens it up, forcing Y/n in and putting the seatbelt on her.

“My car…” Y/n points at her boyfriend’s car.

“You’ll pick it up tomorrow…” Rhea closes the door and jogs to the drivers side and gets in.

 Y/n leans her head back and stares at Rhea as she starts the car and starts the drive to her home. Y/n admires Rhea’s side profiles, finding every perfection in her side profile.

“your perfect…” Y/n mumbles as she feels her eyes getting heavy.

Rhea looks over at her then back at the road, “go to sleep…”

“I love you…”

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