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livlaughloveluke · 2 months

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𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 - 𝐥.𝐜 🪸

daughter of demeter! reader x luke castellan 🫧

summary- the “best friends” of camp half-blood maybe wanna become a little more..

warnings- fem!reader, not proofread

1.7k

Camp Half-blood was illuminated by gold streaks casted from the early morning sun. Light seeped into Cabin 4 through the window, painting the room with warm hues of yellow and orange. The bright rays were a natural alarm, gently waking you from your warm sleep.

As the covers slipped off your skin with ease, you carefully tiptoed out of the twin bed to close the blinds. Young campers softly snored, and you couldn’t help but smile at their blissful state. Grabbing the rough fabric, you quietly pulled the two pieces together, blocking any more sunlight from startling your siblings.

Sleep still threatened to drag you under, so you slipped on sandals and trudged towards the kitchen, eager to get a warm cup of coffee, or really anything to help you wake up.

Outside was fairly silent, contrary to the rowdy and noisy afternoons that typically filled the camp. The only ones awake were boisterous birds, who sung an enchanting song, and a few other counselors who were busy setting up for the day.

Your steady steps carried you to the small camp kitchen, where snacks littered the room as a reward for the effort of the counselors. A small jet black coffee maker stood on the counter, with Luke Castellan lingering next to it, facing away from you. Your presence went unnoticed by him, and you watched as he swiftly picked up two steaming mugs.

He slightly jumped at the sight of you, surprised by your hushed entrance.

“H-Hey. Made you your coffee.” He said, reaching out to awkwardly hand you one of the energizing brown liquids. You delicately giggled at him for his initial fright, and accepted the sweet gesture.

“Thank you. Excited for today’s activities?” You asked, taking a sip of your toasty drink. Today, Hermes and Demeter Cabin were partnering up for a lazy day doing arts and crafts and indoor activities. The kids spent the past week relentlessly training, working hard from dusk till dawn, so an easy day was needed.

“Any time I get to spend with you is exciting.” Luke replied, smirking, before realizing how that sounded and backtracking. “I- Uh, I didn’t mean it-“

You laughed again, quickly cutting him off.

“I know what you meant. See you at eight.” You turned away, teasingly bumping his shoulder.

“See ya.” He whispered out, pursing his lips and doing a slight nod as he witnessed you sauntering away.

You and Luke had been close friends since the beginning. He arrived with Annabeth and Grover, confused and broken by the world. Luke never wanted to be a demigod, to lose Thalia. It was all too much for him.

But then you passed by in the infirmary, practically radiating a positive energy. You smiled at him, a genuine smile, with your nose scrunching up and your eyes nearly closing, before going to chat with some Apollo kid.

You were selected to give him and Annabeth a tour later that afternoon, presumably for your friendly and charming personality that seemed to lure people in. Luke got to observe your perfection firsthand as you helped the his sister adapt to the new surroundings, sweetly showing her everything to love about camp.

Luke followed you around like a lost puppy, mesmerized by your every move. With every step you took, luscious flowers blossomed, creating a beautiful scenery. Not to mention, the kids looked up to you so dearly, with the way you patched their nearly invisible cuts and grew them tulips on their worst days.

The sad reality was you were more of a mother to them than their biological parents, even if you were only fourteen at the time. You did your best to make them feel “normal,” to let them live a glorious childhood that you were never granted.

In those five years after his arrival, you became close as ever. Whether it was spending time basking in the strawberry fields or splashing around in the lake, you spent every minute together, your bond stronger than any weapon forged in Olympus. You laid by him on those restless nights before he got claimed, and after, too. And when you had a small cold, he went full Apollo-mode and spent hours glued to your side until you felt better.

However, there was one teensy issue. Luke was hopelessly and utterly in love with you. Every one saw the way he gazed at you a little too long and with a little too much love in his eyes for just a friend.

Well, all noticed except you. The poor boy thought you weren’t interested, but the reality was your concept of love was so twisted and blurry that you had no clue what “love” even looked like.

So, both you and him stayed silent, hoping one would realize eventually, and end this torture of a situationship.

Which brings us back to now, a cool and humid lazy morning with the campers, lounging on the few picnic tables decorated outside Hermes Cabin. Luke watched as you sat with your (and his) siblings, carefully threading pearly pink beads on a flimsy string. You laughed as you talked to the young children, making sure they were all included. The sun brightened your features, making you appeal heavenly. And your eyes twinkled with curiosity as a little unclaimed kid ranted on about some silly story.

“Dude, you’re staring again.” Chris chimed in, raising his eyebrows as he continued to paint navy shades of blue onto a rock.

“Shut up. Aren’t you whipped for Clarisse?” Luke sarcastically asked.

“If anyones whipped here, it’s you. How long have you liked her now? Can’t you just tell her already?” He was quick to return the sassy attitude, remaining unbothered by his friend’s remark.

“It’s not that simple, you know that. What if she doesn’t like me back and-“ He tried to ramble on, negative thoughts swallowing him whole. Luckily, Chris was there to pull him out of his own mind with yet another dumb comment.

“Damn. I knew you weren’t Athena’s son, but I didn’t know you were that clueless.”

“What?” Luke questioned, slightly offended.

“How many guys has she dated since she met you?”

“None. But I don’t see how this really relates-“

“And how many have asked her out?”

Luke paused for a second. There was Ethan from Ares, who tried asking her on a date a week ago, but she declined. Or Jack from Aphrodite, who, let’s be real, was the most attractive boy in camp, but she rejected him, too.

Chris took his silence as a victory. “Exactly.” He retorted.

“Whatever.” Luke shrugged, hopping up to sit by you. You scooted to your left, making room for him instantly. Cheers erupted from the campers as they saw their (second favorite) counselor.

“Luke! Y/N told us that you still snore when you sleep!” One of them pipped out, sending the rest of the minions into a giggle fit. Luke took a dramatic gasp in, placing a hand on his heart to pretend he was hurt.

“I do not!” He yelped, making the younger laugh even harder. He couldn’t help but smile as he watched the kids joke around.

“I can’t believe you would betray me like that!” He said to you, trying to fake upset, but the huge grin on his face said otherwise.

“I mean, am I wrong? You are the loudest sleeper I’ve ever met!” You reply, grinning.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He looks the other way, and before you can say anything, a voice cut you off.

“Hey! Luke, Y/N!” A blond Apollo child shouted from afar, gently jogging while approaching them. They shifted their attention, prepared to fulfill whatever task presented.

“Chiron needs you in the office. New kid arrived. They said his name was Percy or something?” He finished, jogging away, most likely to get back to the infirmary.

The leaders looked back at their older friend, wondering if he could cover while they helped this newcomer out.

Chris gave a thumbs up, signaling he could watch them for a few minutes.

You and Luke playfully danced around one another on the short stroll, talking about anything and everything while you walk through the woods.

Soon, you reached the open building, the stain glass windows casting a colorful glow. You peer inside to see a blond teen, looking around twelve years old, arguing with Dionysius.

“Peter Johnson is here!” The drunk croaked out, and the two counselors made sure to swoop in.

“Percy, Right?” You said, slightly a little too enthusiastic for 8am on a Tuesday morning.

“Yeah. At least someone around here can get my name right.” He rolled his eyes.

“Sorry about that. He can be a little.. chaotic. I’m Y/N, counselor of Demeter Cabin, and this is Luke, counselor of Hermes Cabin. We can give you a tour, if you want.” You explained, gesturing towards Luke who gave a friendly smile.

“Yeah, sure.” The blond boy replied.

“And this is Hermes Cabin, where you’ll be staying.” Luke exclaimed, pointing to the rough looking room.

“Uh, no offense, but why am I staying here?” Percy asked, disgust lingering in his words as he stared down the messy bunks.

“Uh, Offense taken. First of all, we’re definitely the best cabin of all time. And all unclaimed campers stay here, along with children of minor Gods.” The brunette said.

“Hate to break it to you Luke, but Demeter absolutely solos your Cabin.” You cut in, mouth letting out a ‘tsk’ sound.

“Slow your roll there. Your cabin may be neat, but the amount of plants in there is slightly concerning.” Luke joked, you and him now unknowingly engaged in your own little conversation.

“It’s better than your pig pen!” You shouted, your sweet laugh echoing throughout the area.

“Whatever you say, Princess.” He replied, and Percy took a step back, running into an older teen, staring at the “friends” who were flirting right before everyone.

“Do they always act like this?” He asked, referring to their nonstop conversations, and their slight physical touch. Your fleshy fingers were somehow always grazing his calloused skin.

“Always. It’s sickening.” Chris replied.

“Agreed.” Percy sighed out, as Luke looked back at the two. They both gave an encouraging look, telling him to shoot his shot.

“Hey, I was wondering if you, uh, wanted to go out to the lake tonight? Just us?” He asked you, throat going dry and knees threatening to buckle as he fidgeted with his thumbs.

“I’d love too, Luke.” You replied, blushing as you swayed nervously.

“Great! It’s a date! Unless you don’t want it to be-“ He was quick to start, but you briefly interrupted.

“I’d like that.”

#luke castellan #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x demeter reader #liv’s writing !

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yanderestarangel · 23 days

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HEADCANONS MK1 | YANDERE!TRIO LIN KUEI

A/N: I finally finished this shit.

smut confectionery event ┆cinnamon cake ┆gang bang, degradation, praise, kidnapping. ˖⁺ ⊹୨ "yandere brothers + defenseless darling."୧⊹ ⁺˖ ── SMUT

˖⁺ ⊹୨ 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓫𝓮𝓵𝓸𝔀 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓼 𝓭𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓪𝓭𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓽𝓲𝓼𝓮𝓭 𝓸𝓷 𝓽𝔀. 𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮 𝓲𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓵𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝓷'𝓽 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭 ୧⊹ ⁺˖

𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓻𝓮𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓰𝓼 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝔀𝓮𝓵𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 🎀

TW: kidnapping, manipulation, stall syndrome, porn plot, dark smut, afab reader, nicknames like "good boy or good girl" used, praise, degradation, v!sex, blowjob, unprotected sex, breedkink, face fuck, deep throat, rough sex, stimulation, dumbfication, anal sex, degradation, yandere themes, gang bang.

Being in love with someone was complicated, but three people falling in love with the same person was a situation you didn't see every day ─ especially if these three guys in question were the three most powerful in all of China. Bi Han, Kuai Liang and Tomas Vrbada, all eyeing the same person. You. They didn't know who had been first.

Maybe when Bi Han saw you wandering around the Lin Kuei forests alone and picking some fruits, instead of moving you away from his clan's land he felt the strange urgency to help you. You looked like a deer lost in the snow, ready to be devoured by someone predator ─ the grandmaster himself fit this role well, but from that first instance he just helped you pick the apples you needed and let you go, you had messed with his world without even knowing it.

Maybe it could have been Kuai Liang, when he saw you bathing in the waterfall near his house. The white and loose peasant-style dress fell on your shoulders and clung to your curves due to the coolness of the icy water that accumulated on the smooth stones ─ the ninja pyromancer's focus had quickly shifted to your breasts that moved gracefully in the transparent fabric, begging for attention involuntarily. Your nipples hardened from the cold as he looked at the delicate curvature of your pussy, like a flower that was unopened and needed to be explored. The fire ninja didn't dare to come close to you - just watching you from afar, but his heart was racing, warming his body even more.

Or maybe it was Tomas Vrbada when he first saw you helping Madame Bo in her restaurant. You looked beautiful and oblivious to the smoke ninja's eyes that practically burned you, for you he was just another customer on a night with a lot of customers. But to him, you were the image of perfection he sought after the faith he had lost after losing his family too... He watched your graceful movements and even the way you smiled beautifully while serving his table. He felt his smoke powers go out of control each time he looked deeper into you ── it was like looking at a work of Renaissance art, the longer he looked at the more hidden details he could perceive.

Even with the unusual situation, the three brothers decided to make the best decision, join forces and share you. And the best way to stop anyone from having you was a quick kidnapping. After Bi Han asked Sentir to find everything about you, especially where you lived ─ Tomas used his smoke powers to fill your house with a suffocating gas enough to cause you to faint, without much harm to you obviously. Kuai Liang used his fire powers to overheat the door lock and break it, seeing you lying unconscious to it all... Scorpion's arms wrapped around you as he carried you away and his older brother, Bi Han, led their way guaranteed that no one would question anything after all who would question three ninja assassins?

You had gotten in their way, without even realizing it, you had marked your own destiny. Being woken up with restraints on your wrists and tied to a comfortable bed unlike at home was scary for you and especially seeing the three muscular men watching you in the corner of the room, but what could a weak boy/girl like you do? Just accept fate.

The rules were simple, don't try to escape, and respect everyone there. The words that came out of the grandmaster's mouth were sharp and harsh, demanding linear and blind obedience to them. Kuai Liang agreed with his brother, trying to soften his words with "we just want to keep you safe. And if you obey us you will be rewarded for it."

Tomas on the other hand was still insecure and anxious, with an underlying fear of rejection from you, he stayed quiet and let his older brothers talk while he watched everything. They wouldn't touch you for the first few days, making you comfortable enough in your new life. The best food, clothes and treats you could think of you had now ─ it was a prince's/princess's life, only in a bizarre way and in a narrative twisted by their obsessive minds

˖⁺ ⊹୨ How would they act?

Tomas Vrbada

He would be your caretaker while Kuai and Bi Han went on missions for Lord Liu Kang. He was responsible for making sure you didn't try to escape. But this served to bring the two of you closer together, the silver-haired man was soft, a soft giant. He always made a point of asking how you were, if he needed anything and even let you free from the ropes and chains that his brothers put on you to make sure you wouldn't run away from them. "I'll let you go, but you promise you won't run, right?"

He likes to be with you most of the time. He knows how to share you with his brothers but he prefers to be with you and hug you tightly, keep you protected behind his muscles and stroke your hair. The first time you had sex was also with him ─ the ninja felt over the moon when you said that in front of Kuai and Bi Han, making them respect your decision and let the Czech take you first.

You are treated so well when you have sex with him that it makes you forget that they kidnapped you and you are now in a beautiful cage surrounded by soft pillows and luxury ─ his cock is thick and big enough to give affectionate and warm kisses to one of your uterus, making you moan and writhe beneath him with each compliment that accompanies a thrust of his hips deep into your core.

"So beautiful and so tight my prince/princess, I knew you would like this. Open up more for me please... I can't move with your pretty pussy holding me like that.- FUCK!-" Vrbada is sensitive seeing you cling to him, the result of a stalling syndrome because of the situation you were in. He gives you kisses and praises you every time you suck his dick so well, telling you that you can continue and he will do whatever you want later. "Please make me cum, that's-! Yes... Damn such a beautiful and good mouth, you're a great boy/girl." He protects you from any punishment from Kuai or Bi Han, but if you betray his trust and try to escape, he will be extremely disappointed in you and he will treat you coldly and with sarcasm every time you speak, even refusing to keep you company.

"I should have thought of that before trying to escape." Were the words that left his lips as he just gave you a dark look and closed the door to your room, leaving you alone about your actions.

Kuai Liang

Kuai Liang is a bit more stoic and closed off than Tomas. He will just look at you a few times and warn you not to try to run away ─ once again telling the false illusion of you being"safe with them" his personality even as Yandere is the perfect balance between strict and calm.

He will use unconventional methods to get you close to him and gain your trust, whether through manipulation convincing you that being with him and his brothers is the best way to live, where you would be kept beautifully there with them just having to be an obedient boy. or he could also be passive aggressive and intimidate you, telling you how he knew exactly where your friends and family lived and that if you tried to run away from Lin Kuei lands you might get a nasty surprise when you got back home... A subtle but functional threat .

Regardless, when you are mentally corrupted enough to cling to him, the fire ninja will take advantage of this opportunity and make you his for nights on end. Fucking you on a soft mattress surrounded by transparent curtains and the wind that bathed you both ─ he would bite, slap your ass while holding your head against the feather pillow making you arch your back even more towards him and giving him the view of your pussy drooling on his cock.

You knew you couldn't enjoy it so much, after all, that man was also responsible for your kidnapping... But you couldn't resist each strong thrust of Scorpion's super heated cock. Whispering how well you're doing, how he likes to see your body bounce with each thrust, how your pussy drools his cock... How you're his. "All i have to do is talk to u, don't I sweetheart? You're a shaking, beautiful mess, you're soaking the cloths baby boy/baby girl ... And my dick too. You're going to clean me up later with that pretty mouth, aren't you? It is?" Kuai Liang would bury his cock even deeper in your pussy, making you practically see stars and look at the eyes behind your skull, making you milk his cock and grip the sheets beneath you.

"I never thought a cute boy/girl like you would be such a greedy slut for cock..." He taunted again as he spilled his hot seed deep into your womb, filling you to the brim and giving one last bite to your neck. He would take care of you after sex, giving you a hot bath but keeping the chains that prevented you from running away from him ─ he is not easy to manipulate, you can convince him to let you free from the bonds after getting close enough and saying that I would never leave him. However, if you try to escape and he catches you he will definitely punish you, he would be angry enough to breed your pussy all night.

Bi Han and Tomas would only hear the banging of the bed against the wall and the grunts of his pyromancer brother as you were fucked into abandonment, even if you begged him to stop that you would behave he would just hold your neck and smirk. "stop? Oh my little dumb boy/girl, you should have thought of that before you tried to run away like a scared bunny- now spread your legs like the good slut you are and let me fill you up again." Kuai Liang would growl as he spit contemptuously into your pussy, his saliva helping his thick cock slide further in and out of your poor little cunt.

Bi Han

Because he's the oldest and has Napoleon syndrome, he really thinks you're there to serve him. You remember the bittersweet memory of having crossed his path for the first time, but you could no longer complain or beg for mercy. Even with the grandmaster's anger and imminent cruelty, he will be protective of you and give you the most expensive things money can buy ─ a tactic to distract you from the situation you are in now and start seeing him and his brothers as perhaps more than you. that just crazy people obsessed with your love.

He would have you on his lap while he did the paperwork, pulling on the chain that was attached to your neck with every inopportune movement you made or if you tried to get off of him."Be a good boy/girl and stay here okay? I can reward you later, maybe something you've wanted for a long time hm?" The ice ninja would speak, bringing you to him again, looking at your face and giving you an icy, expectant kiss on your cheek ─ like a sunny day that hid a night of heavy storms, that was the definition of your captor.

Sex with him is extremely good, making you turn off your brain with each rough thrust he made into your pussy while you sucked his fingers to muffle your moans. You felt his muscular body against his and how his hoarse moans made your pussy get even more wet and drip onto the floor, while you fought to keep your knees from sinking and falling to the floor. "Fuck- you are so fucking beautiful like this... Begging for a cock to fill you. Such a beautiful boy/girl for your master." Bi Han would moan hoarsely and distribute hickeys on your neck, cupping your soft breasts with his hands while he smiled, pleased to see you accept him so well and without question, the three brothers had corrected your behavior and turned you into their broken and corrupted little doll. One, two or three orgasms, maybe you had even squirted on his cock.

At this point you wouldn't even try to run away anymore, you had three men who loved you in a sick way, a comfortable place and being full of cum every night... You were satisfied with your new life or maybe you just settled.

gang bang with the lin kuei trio.

You were filled with Bi Han's cock in your pussy and Tomas followed behind, fucking your ass with half of his cock, your mouth was occupied with Kuai Liang's cock. You felt your brain go numb and go numb with each joint thrust of the ninja trio into your body.

Bi Han's hands found your clit as you moaned into his brother's member, making him smile sadistically ── they were jointly ruining their precious boy/girl. It was beautiful how fat tears fell from your teary eyes and you couldn't protest or say anything, too busy with the taste of Scorpion's warm musk on your tongue.

The smoke ninja's hands went to your hips as you heard his needy moans and how his dick filled your tight hole even without him even putting it all the way in.

Your womb had cold kisses given by the grandmaster's fat cock, making you lean on Liang's muscular thighs while he pulled your head and made your nose touch his pelvis. The voices mixed in your ears, and you just let yourself be deliciously destroyed by the three men. "You're close... Almost there... But not yet... Not until I feel you cumming around my cock again..." He pants heavily, his breath hot against your ear.

Bi Han’s eyes are almost black with lust, his hands gripping your neck tightly as he continues pounding into you, his thrusts match his younger brother's in your other hole, the two of them practically lift you off the ground while Kuai Liang hits you and enters your throat unceremoniously. "Holy fuck honey... Did you swallow me down to my throat? What a good slut." He groaned as you felt your saliva run from your mouth to your chin, wetting his balls.

Tomas only knew how to moan, and with one final thrust he came inside your tight ass, leaving a wet trail making you moan and the ice ninja who fucked your pussy came inside your uterus, breed your pussy deliciously, like a creampie. Kuai was not far behind and took his cock out of your mouth with a loud pop, cumming on your face and hitting his member on your cheek.

You collapsed against Bi Han's firm chest, while the once dominant hands turned into tender and soft touches, praising you for being so good to them, with their voices telling you to rest a little and have a happy sleep, filled with their seeds.

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qingxin-dream · 8 months

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“In Spite of Thorns”

summary | all you needed was a bit more color in your life. something to make life seem not so dull. little did you know the wallflower of a florist next door found himself in a similar dilemma. (art credits: @/MNCE_o on twitter)

warnings | profanity, pining, reader is a horrible flirt, reader gets a tattoo, smut [18+, MDNI], female-bodied reader, semi-public sex, reader receives oral, face fucking, edging/orgasm denial, mention of cervix-kissing, breeding

genre | florist!kuni au, fluff, slow burn, smut with plot

word count | 5.2k

pairing | kunikuzushi/scaramouche x reader

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

There was a little flower shop next to your regular morning coffee joint that always caught your eye.

On your way to work, you’d often sit outside the tiny cafe downtown and admire the lovely bouquets sitting pretty in the windowsill next door. You imagined a sweet old lady running such an adorable business, the type to water her flowers early in the morning and know every person who walks through her door.

Much to your surprise, there was only one person attending to the shop—it was a young man with short indigo hair that framed his face and trailed down the back of his neck in soft wisps. You noticed he kept to himself with a stoic expression most of the time. You caught him once switching the flowers on display, it was the only time his face revealed a glimpse of emotion—something deeper and more meaningful than silent indifference.

The city was a place often devoid of the beauty and tranquility nature can offer. It was easy to get lost in the hum-drum of daily life and the grind of your 9-to-5 job, overwhelmed by a concrete cage of skyscrapers. It was frankly depressing when you had those rare moments of self-realization.

So, in an attempt to get a breath of fresh air one morning, you decide to visit the flower shop just a block from your work. The bell hanging above the door chimes as you enter, suddenly surrounded by a sea of beautiful flower arrangements kept in pristine condition. In the back stood the young owner, who didn’t even acknowledge your presence as he focused on his next bouquet behind the counter.

You couldn’t believe the level of detail and craftsmanship in each display, traveling slowly through the store in wonder. Perhaps it is what kept people coming back to this place despite his cold demeanor. He is an artist, there’s no doubt about it.

The sound of wrinkling plastic interrupted the young man’s work as you approached the register, setting down a small arrangement of daises in front of him. He grunted, giving you a slightly annoyed glare, quickly ringing up your purchase.

“It’s $10, even,” he says blandly, already looking back at his little flower project on the workbench impatiently.

You oblige without a word, awkwardly glancing around and silently noting his name badge which read ‘Kuni.’

“Your receipt,” he snatches the small paper and hands it to you.

“Thanks, Kuni. Have a good one,” you attempt to break the ice, but the young man has already turned his back to you to continue putting together his next artwork. A bit dejected, you leave with the daisies in hand. Maybe that was stupid.

You kept the tiny bouquet of daisies on your desk at work. Just having a bit of greenery was enough to lift your spirits when the day would take a turn for the worse. They were so delicate and cute, it had you tempted to visit the flower shop again. It was on the way to work anyway, why not?

At least, that was your excuse. I mean, you couldn’t deny that the young florist was easy on the eyes, despite his thorns.

Slowly but surely, you developed a new morning routine. You had become a familiar face to Kuni, the grumpy and closed-off flower shop owner. Around 7:30am, you’d walk into his humble store with a coffee in hand from the cafe next door, greeting him with a small “good morning.” You’d often casually wander around the store, asking about flower species or meanings to his arrangements.

It took awhile before Kuni was willing to indulge much in conversation. Typical responses came in the form of an eye roll, a scoff, or quips about having something better to do under his breath. Though, if you asked the right question, Kuni would occasionally come around the counter to help.

You swear it was like watching a flower bloom in real time with the way Kuni’s entire expression melted softly when he spoke about his arrangements. What once was but a shy sprout became a beautiful swirl of petals, full of life.

Kuni would reach beside you, awkwardly brushing his arm or his chest against you on accident. He would take the bouquet you were curious about and present it to you with subdued pride, caressing the blossoms. Colors, shapes, lengths, petals, ribbons—everything had significance and Kuni loved to teach you the nuances of his passion.

The days were beginning to feel like they pass by quicker. You woke up with a new reason to roll out of bed, lured by the taste of your usual miel coffee and the sweet aroma of flowers.

The chimes of the doorbell eventually had Kuni slightly jumping out of skin when you strolled through, a faint flush of color on his cheeks. His gaze would follow you intently from the corner of his eye, a small smile adorning his lips.

As an artist, he possessed an incredible attention to detail, picking up on your name that was scribbled on the side of your coffee cup; or how you carefully waded through the rows and rows endless flowers with curiosity crinkled on your cute brows. He discovered that your favorite color is blue. You like cream but not sugar. You love rainy days. You avert your eyes before saying hi.

Kuni soon found himself keeping note of these little details in his small notepad, though you simply thought he was scribbling business to-do’s.

Every other week or so, you’d need a new set of flowers for your desk and Kuni was content to offer his personal favorites. He quite enjoyed these mornings with you, as other customers typically visited around lunch or after 5pm to gift flowers to their spouses or loved ones. He’d never openly admit how you managed to melt his cold exterior and warm his heart as time passed.

You learned more about each other as the seasons changed and naturally became good friends. You were more than a regular to him. He found himself interested in hearing you talk about your day. Tell him about that terrible work meeting or the prank your coworker pulled on your boss. Who are your friends? Do you have a pet at home? Anyone significant in your life?

Kuni wanted to know everything about you.

There came one day that you approached him with a mischievous smirk on your face. He eyed you suspiciously, taking off his gloves and folding his arms over his apron. You had trouble written all over your face.

“Morning, Kuni,” you approached the counter immediately, interlacing your fingers together around your coffee cup.

Something is definitely up with you. He raises an eyebrow, finding your unusual mood to be amusing. “I have a feeling you have something to say.”

“Indeed I do,” you couldn’t help yourself, grinning widely with excitement brimming in your eyes. You looked like you were going to burst from laughter. “I need your expert opinion.”

On cue, he rolls his eyes at your adorable antics. “Well? Out with it.”

“I want a tattoo,” you confess, the enthusiasm you were feeling a moment ago now shifting into embarrassment for some reason. You had worked up the courage all night to ask for Kuni’s advice, imagining a hundred different ways it could possibly go. It was too late to take it back now.

“A tattoo? You’d be the last person I’d expect to want something like that,” Kuni deadpans with a hint of confusion and condescension. “Why do you need my opinion? I think you look just fine without one.”

It’s not that he disliked tattoos. The florist simply appreciated your natural beauty, and didn’t want you to regret permanently marking your body. It seems you weren’t entirely as incorruptible as he initially thought.

“I just want to try something new,” you sigh, pursing your lips to express your dissatisfaction. You held your breath, tapping on the side of your coffee cup before adding, “I’m plain. And boring. I don’t even have a piercing.”

Kuni frowned. He had no idea where this self-loathing behavior was coming from, but he was determined to snuff out any reservations you had about yourself. “You’re pretty just the way you are, (Y/N).”

You refuse to accept that answer, shaking your head. “C‘mon, you don’t think I’d look cute with a small tattoo? Something tasteful. Not even a flower tattoo?”

“I mean—it’s hard to imagine you with any tattoos,” he replied before finally relenting his distaste with a noncommittal shrug. “But I suppose, if anything, a flower could only make your skin lovelier.”

His mind was already turning its gears, wondering what spurred this sudden desire to change. He lamented the idea of you being unhappy with yourself. If this is what would make you smile again, then Kuni resolved to support you as any friend should.

“Good, because I figured my favorite florist could pick out a flower for me,” your eyes sparkled playfully, waiting for his reaction.

Putting his hand on his forehead, Kuni huffs and slowly runs his palm down his face as if he is annoyed. Truthfully, he was hoping to wipe the warmth that quickly flooded his cheeks completely off. The last thing he wanted was for you to see him a flustered mess over you.

He runs a free hand through his hair, sighing softly. “Why not roses? Everyone does that.”

Your bottom lip poked out in a pout at his answer. This isn’t the response you expected at all. You didn’t understand him sometimes. Groaning, you dramatically tilt your head in momentary frustration and take his hand in yours, pleadingly.

“Really, Kuni? That’s the most cliché shit ever,” you grumble, though it’s more like a whine as you give him puppy eyes. “I’m being serious. What comes to mind when you think of me?”

The question is innocent enough, but feels like a punch to his gut—stealing the breath right from his lungs. If only you knew what you were asking of him.

Every day he imagines you walking through the door of his flower shop, a pretty smile on your face and a cup of black tea in your hand just for him. He would thank you softly and take your cheek in his warm palm, leaning in to kiss you before the store opens. His fingers would trail down your neck, his thumb nudging your head to the side to give him easier access to that sensitive spot on your neck, lips parting and ready to taste the desire on your skin.

He had to stop himself.

“What about… peonies? It blooms beautifully—a huge blossom with a strong, sweet fragrance.” The florist clears his throat after a brief pause, nervously searching your expression. If you were keen, you’d catch the tips of his ears burning bright pink. “An unmistakable flower that can convey so much… in less than a few words.”

Kuni happens to pull a red peony from the flowers he has scattered on his workbench for his upcoming arrangement, hesitating for a second before extending it sheepishly to you. You’re too caught up in the moment to notice how the dainty flower trembles slightly in his fingertips.

It’s perfect. You bring the peony to your nose, eyelashes fluttering up at Kuni appreciatively. He swears his heart skips a beat.

“I love it,” you exhale, offering the peony back to him. You feel invigorated, elated even, to have found a subject for your first tattoo. It had to be something meaningful, and naturally your first thought was Kuni. “Thank you, I promise to stop by to show you when it’s done.”

Before the lovestruck florist could say a word, you were running out the door, bells chiming at your departure. He held the red peony to his nose, closing his eyes and thinking of you.

It had been a few days since you stopped by, which was unusual.

Kuni tried not to dwell on it. You were a busy person and, of course, had your own life outside of him. He shouldn’t be upset that you suddenly ghosted him, yet he can sense a dreadful feeling crawling into his heart.

The doorbell rings, but the young flower shop owner doesn’t bother to see who entered. Of the hundreds of people who have visited his store in the time that you’ve been gone, none of them were you.

He turns to the counter to water a few flowers, his gaze flickering to the customer, and he can’t stop the way his jaw slowly drops. Standing a few feet away at his newest bouquet display is you all dolled up in a pretty little sundress that stops at your mid-thigh and hugs your figure nicely.

Most notably, your dress has an open back which reveals a plethora of peonies inked down the curve of your spine in an elegant and minimalist design. It’s utterly gorgeous.

“H-hey,” Kuni speaks up, sounding lost as he furrowed his eyebrows at you. His expression was beyond adorable, simply starstruck.

You glanced at the florist from over your shoulder, snickering since he accidentally let his guard slip more than usual. You cover your mouth, giggling at him, “Kuni, I think you’re overwatering the flowers.”

“Shit,” he curses to himself, immediately putting down the small water can on the counter with a light splash. Grumbling under his breath, he tries to drain the pot. “Where the hell have you been, by the way?”

“I took some time off work, sorry,” you admit, but really you were more interested in showing off the final product of your new tattoo. You happily twirl around in your tiny sundress and strike a goofy pose, the frilly ends spinning hypnotically around your upper thighs. “So…?”

All of Kuni’s irritation with his embarrassing mishap washes away as he watches you excitedly spin around, flaunting your curves and the work of art now inked on your back. He smirks and mutters quietly, “I think I like peonies a whole lot more now.”

You brush your hair to the side so he can see the full tattoo. “Haha, come look at it then!”

His heart fluttered, quickly taking off his dirty gardener’s gloves to take a closer look. Every step towards you made his mind race and his breath a little shallow, you were stunning if he was being completely honest. He felt even more attracted to you with such an amazing work of art spanning your back, and to top it off—he was your inspiration—just as you were secretly his muse.

Without thinking, the florist’s fingertips lightly brush your spine in silent admiration. You immediately tense and gasp at the unexpected contact.

He snaps out of his thoughts and recoils in horror. “Sorry, sorry. I-I wasn’t… I, uh…”

You laugh and smile in understanding. “It’s fine. You surprised me is all. Don’t worry about it.”

Yet, he was still compelled to continue tracing the contours of the raven-colored ink over the surface of your soft skin. You said it was fine. You were okay with it. He was overthinking it, right?

“C-can I ask why, of all people, you wanted me to pick your first tattoo?” Kuni was still trying to make sense of everything in his head. He was secretly terrified that he was projecting his own feelings onto you, and masked it behind a playful smile of disbelief.

“Well,” you brushed your hair back over your shoulders and finally turned to face him. Your sundress was just as cute in the front, Kuni smiles to himself. A faint blush dusts your precious little cheeks. “I think I’ve adopted your affinity for flowers. Saying everything while saying nothing at all... it’s poetic, don’t you think?”

“You didn’t have to get a tattoo just for me,” Kuni joked to make light of the situation, throwing in a faint grunt of disapproval and an eye roll. He was sure you picked a flower just to appease him since he was originally against the idea.

In reality, he was more than touched by your thoughtfulness.

There was a peculiar glint in your expression that the florist couldn’t quite place. He felt drawn in. You took a petal from the newest bouquet on display between your index and thumb, caressing the soft blossom.

“I mean, your flower arrangements are always so beautiful, and you handle them with so much care,” you trail off, staring at the bouquet with an indiscernible emotion. Then, in a whisper followed by a smile, you continue, “Maybe I was jealous.”

His gut reaction is to chuckle to hide his reddened face. He didn’t know what to think of it. Surely you were joking.

“Jealous, huh?” Kuni repeats with amusement lining the smirk slowly spreading across his face. “That I touch these flowers with more care than… say, touching you? Is that it?”

However, instead of laughing along, you blush a deeper shade of crimson that rivals his own and to boot, you take your lower lip between your teeth. “S-so you admit it?”

“Admit what?” he scoffs, brushing off your reaction as if you didn’t just confess to wanting his touch. He couldn’t comprehend the possibility that you genuinely had an interest in him. He was in denial, rationalizing every detail in the back of his mind. Where this was going, he had no clue.

As he continued to wage this internal war with himself, attempting to play a kind of 4-D chess to stay a step ahead of you, he neglected the most obvious conclusion. “Y-you really want me to…?”

Poor Kuni had let his mind run in circles this whole time and he was made the fool. You were trying to flirt with him.

You glance to the door of the flower shop, which sported a cute homemade sign that read ‘Come In, We’re Open!’ from the outside. Shifting uncomfortably, you keep your thighs closed tight. That glimmer in your eyes was no longer cloudy but clear as day to the florist—lustful—and he quite liked the way it reflected in your watercolor irises.

A small chuckle escapes your lips, the redness in your cheeks never leaving. You hoped that Kuni could read between the lines. “D-do you take custom orders? Because, I actually, uh, have a special flower I want you to use.”

“Oh?” he knew exactly what you were asking now, heat creeping up his neck at an alarming rate. The tension between your bodies is palpable at this point, as his fingers still hover over your back where he had touched you accidentally. “You know, I’d like to think I’m well-acquainted with many flower species, but… maybe you could enlighten me.”

He wanted you, truly. But part of Kuni had reservations about going this fast.

His attention snapped to you when he felt your fingers on his chest, fiddling with the flower pinned to his apron. Your voice softened and sounded sweet as honey, “You are the florist. I trust that you are a capable man, Kuni.”

“Well, I-I suppose I’d want to give this my utmost attention,” he begins, the back of his fingers graze your cheek down to your jaw, locking eyes with you. This is the stuff fantasies are made of, and here you are batting your pretty eyes at him.

“I wouldn’t mind closing the shop just for you.”

Amid the noise and bustle of the city, the people passing the storefront were none the wiser to the windows of the flower shop, curtains drawn to prevent any prying eyes. The door was locked shut, unusual for this time of day, but no customers would be stopping by any time soon. A sign hung in the window of the door reading ‘Sorry! We’re Closed!’

Even the lights were off, bathing the assortment of embellished bouquet displays in darkness. Near the florist’s workbench in the back of the store, a single lamp cast a warm ray over his newest obsession spread nice and ready for him. A pair of electrifying purple eyes drifted down his favorite fascination, admiring his work thus far—a smattering of hickeys trailing down your bare body. Your beautiful skin was his willing canvas.

The weight of Kuni’s gaze had your cunt twitch around nothingness in anticipation. Your only consolation lied behind your eyelids, edging yourself with the sweet delusion of his pulsing cock grazing your clit before guiding it to your desperate hole. Archons, you could almost envision how it would feel for his tip to venture across every ridge of your walls for the first time.

You needed it, craved it. No, you ached for it—as if you were missing a part of your soul that would make you whole.

Goosebumps raise in the wake of his fingertips brushing on your supple thighs. How he had unraveled you out of every layer of clothing yet never set his sights on your pretty pussy was unfathomable. Art cannot be rushed, after all.

Kuni was taking his sweet time to memorialize the texture of your skin on his, to taste and devour you slowly in every possible sense. His imagination was the limit, and for now he was blissfully chasing your sensual little noises like a dream on the clouds of your lips.

His warm, muscular hand traveled across the round curve of your hip, gripping the plump flesh in reverence, and then snaked it up your back. You whimpered into his mouth as his soft tongue teased yours. He smiled, knowing that deep down you were beginning to reach your breaking point.

Kuni’s voice was smooth and inviting, “Mm, (Y/N), you know why I chose peonies?”

With each vertebrae the pads of his fingers discovered, tracing your tattoo, your spine arched just a little more into his toned chest. The corners of his mouth turn up into an adoring smile, long eyelashes framing the depth of the devotion imprinted in his expression. Your occasional soft gasps of need urged him to capture your lips in a chaste kiss intermittently.

“Your smile… reminds me of yellow peonies. Of new beginnings, every morning,” Kuni chuckles quietly to himself between kisses, intertwining his other hand in your hair. His thumb coaxes your jaw to open for him further, swirling his tongue with yours before rewarding you with the heavenly sensation of his lips once more.

“And in your absence,” he continues, taking your lower lip between his teeth to emphasize the emotions behind his words. “Like a soft pink peony, I realize how much I’m missing without you.”

“Mm, miss you too,” you lean into the florist’s mouth as he tries to pull away, not yet ready to part. He obliged with a smug exhale through his nose, hot breath tickling your lips as he nuzzles you. The atmosphere was thick with temptation, both of you closing your eyes to relish in the tension—such satisfaction feels even better when it’s just out of reach.

“When you walk through that door, you’re more beautiful than the day before… as lovely as a white peony,” Kuni let his hand fall from your hair to your collarbone, reminding you of the love bites he marked you with in a fit of passion earlier.

Licking his lips, the indigo-haired florist embarked to kiss every single inch of your body leading to the delectable curve of your breasts. As he neared your aerola, he couldn’t help but give it an affectionate lick and gentle suck, smirking when your nipple hardened involuntarily.

You whimper again, squeezing your thighs together. However, Kuni had planted himself firmly between your legs where you sat on the counter, purposely pulling back to push the bulge of his erection onto your core to remind you of your place. Don’t you dare keep your petals a secret.

“I bet you didn’t even know,” he almost scoffs, pinching your nipple as punishment and studying the squeeze of your eyelids in desperation. “That many of my arrangements were made in the image of you… with all those hot pink peonies.”

It’s not long before Kuni brings his lips back to your breasts, addicted to the sound of your soft pants. He sneaks his way down your abdomen, dragging his wet tongue along the alluring stretch towards your pelvis in sloppy kisses. As he finds himself kneeled in front of you, suddenly he hooks your knees around his shoulders to pull your pretty flower to his attention, earning a yelp from you.

He has you exactly where he wants you. Before you can react, Kuni is already diving his mouth between your soft thighs. You immediately dig your fingers into his purple locks, grabbing a fistful to temper his enthusiasm. “K-Kuni!”

The florist pauses, lust-riddled eyes flickering seductively up to you with bated breath. The way his eyebrow quirks up at you exudes a new kind of confidence you had never seen on him before, causing your protests to slowly die in your throat. “What? Don’t trust a professional?”

Kuni’s expression is downright carnal, flicking his tongue out at you teasingly. Your grip on his hair loosens, though he catches the pout of your lips. “I-I trust you.”

“Good, baby,” he exhales, wasting no time in closing the gap to your flower. “Because I’m about to show you the meaning of my favorite color peony.”

You attempt to relax as he nudges his nose between your folds, slowly gliding his tongue over your pussy. It’s an experimental first taste of paradise, one that evokes an erotic sigh of pleasure from you. Kuni hums in contentment against your clit, his humid breath tickling every crevice of your delicious cunt.

Circling his tongue around the sensitive bud, Kuni hangs on to every luscious moan and silent plea for more that spills from you. It spurs him to lick your core eagerly, occasionally taking your outer labia between his lips and briefly but gently sucking it in a wet kiss.

“F-fuck,” you mumble in a hot whine, running both of your hands through the florist’s hair to see how his eyebrows knit together prettily. He’s so focused on pleasing you, slurping the intoxicating concoction that is your essence and his saliva dribbling down his chin. It was so tantalizing, it had you bucking your hips into his face.

Kuni abruptly grabbed your sides to steady himself, and grunted lowly in response. He flatly licked your folds, then moving to suckle your clit. Your groans were making him so utterly taken with you, sliding a hand back down in his boxers to smear precum over the throbbing tip of his erection and fist his length.

All he could do is mutter sweet nothings into the wet cavern of your pussy, praising you for tasting so divine and even letting him please you like this. He traces your folds sensually, eventually pushing his tongue deeper into your plush walls. The sensation is more than enough to have you a whimpering mess, tugging Kuni’s head closer and fucking your cunt onto his tongue.

Your thighs tighten around the florist’s head, but he honestly doesn’t mind if he passes out from a lack of oxygen. In fact, Kuni buries his tongue even further into you, if possible, while his nose teases your aching clit. All of it was worth hearing you beg for him to make you cum.

“O-oh my fucking god, mm,” you whisper, voice dripping with desire. “Y-yes, yes, yes… ‘m so close.”

He nods in acknowledgement, smirking and chuckling into your cunt while salacious groans of his own pour from his lips. Without warning, Kuni rips himself away and wipes his face, leveling his cock with your sopping entrance and nestling just the tip in. You didn’t have time to mourn the loss of your climax as it was replaced with the unexpected girth of his length, your hole fluttering instantaneously.

“Aghhh, goddamnit,” he curses under his breath, verging on a growl. You weren’t used to this side of him, but every surprise had you wanting to see more. He slams his hands on the table on either side of you, lavender eyes glued to the hypnotic spasm of your lovely pussy around his cock. “I can’t believe you’re so tight—just for me.”

“Please,” you mewl, legs wrapped his hips to slowly pull the florist closer and bury his cock just an inch further. The hazy glint in your irises said everything. You swallow thickly, “I need you so bad, Kuni.”

He entangled himself in you, inhaling your scent as he held you tightly by the waist and bottomed out inside of your heavenly walls. Oh, you were simply in a state of breathless ecstasy, melting into his arms. The feeling of fullness within you was unlike anything you had ever experienced, and Kuni’s first real thrust had your legs shaking.

It wasn’t enough. How could he be satisfied without knowing his cock kissed your cervix and bred you nicely?

Nuzzling into your neck, Kuni forced you to the edge of the counter by your ass, giving him better access to relentlessly pound that pretty pussy of yours. You took the hint and laying down on your back submissively, resting your ankles on his shoulders. The florist didn’t dare stop his movements, growing more and more drunk on the mesmerizing sound of your pussy taking him so well.

His hand groped at the bouncing flesh of your breasts. “Archons, (Y/N), why are you so fucking beautiful?”

Kuni’s head leaned onto your left calf, eyes trained only on you in a loving gaze, before turning to kiss your leg as he leisurely fucked you. His hand roamed south of your breasts and planted his thumb on your clit in tight circles, gripping your leg harder against his chest to keep you in place. He wasn’t about to let you squirm away from the pleasure he’s so kindly giving you.

At this point, you were beyond trying to keep your composure. Slutty groans of euphoria filled the humble little shop with every slap of your skin on his. He had you begging, pleading in hot tears for your release. Kuni had repeatedly tempted, teased, and edged you beyond comprehension.

Now here you were yearning for your climax like a whore.

“Ah, fuck, hah… yes, please, please…!” you panted, loving the way Kuni was using you like his perfect little cocksleeve. He looked so sexy with sweat on his brow and his bangs messily sticking to his forehead, the raw girth of his cock stretching you so good with each thrust. Frankly, you were reduced to incoherent babbling—coaxing the peak of both your climaxes. “Mm, so, so good. Gonna… gonna cum, I-I…”

“Mhmm, it’s okay, yeah… ‘m gonna fucking cum all in you,” Kuni frantically nods, sucking in a sharp breath and trembling all over as he cums simultaneously with you. He keeps his cock fully sheathed in your pulsating pussy, a myriad of praises and curses flow freely between the both of you. “Fuck yeah, you like that, don’t you?”

“Nnghh, yes,” you replied with guttural enthusiasm, eyes rolling in the back of your head as your orgasm washes away. “I fucking love you.”

Kuni is barely able to support you in the aftershock of that mind-breaking pleasure, clutching you to his chest and breathing wildly. Whether it was the sex talking or not, he didn’t care. He had you in this moment and would never let go, he vowed.

The florist’s eyes flickered to a bouquet of red peonies sitting on his workbench with a soft smile.

thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated! my masterlist

#posting 2 fics in 2 days bc i’m actually crazy lmao🤪🥰#[opulent dreams].✿#[dreams of delusion].✿#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin fatui #genshin scaramouche #genshin kunikuzushi #genshin wanderer #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche smut #wanderer smut

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mooishbeam · 8 months

Text

『♡』 Obey Me

♡ featuring: kaeya x f!reader

♡ summary: you learn your lesson for disrespecting the calvary captain wc: 4.1k+ (i am so sorry)

♡ cw/tw: wax play, humiliation, degradation, sex toys, dacryphilia, rough sex, hard dom, overstim, orgasm torture, edging, bondage, squirting, pet play if you squint, kaeya is kind of an asshole, pet names (dove, pretty girl, sweetie)

notes: idk how the word count did that I'm too silly. feral kaeya does something to me tbh. n e way I promise a shorter one next time hehe. art by ttalby_ on ig <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated!

Kaeya isn’t used to feeling like this.

The interesting days of tasks and adventitious missions superseded his need for activities outside of the Knights of Favonius. He often stumbled—more so, needlessly interjected—into petty situations. He lived for theatrics, an audience to indulge emotion and intimacy in its most vulnerable state. A man who solves the problems of the public before his own knew neither authentic nor genuine connection. Kaeya was well aware of how easily he made hearts swoon, with a silver tongue and attractive timbre, a mask imperceptible. When you arrived as an apprentice for the 6th Company, he assumed you’d be just as easy, just as captivated. You were anything but. You barely acknowledged his existence for the first year, and he’d be wrong to say your lack of dalliance didn’t chip away at his self-esteem.

Something egotistical in him wanted your attention. Romantic prospects were dispensable to him, but you had to know who he was. After all, who doesn’t love the Calvary Captain?

Just for fun he told himself, as you became the first person to turn him flushed and sow seeds of doubt surrounding love in his heart. Kaeya finally managed to achieve your regard and all you asked for was his name. The audacity of you, to ask the captain who he is? He nearly busted out laughing. He gently held your hand and kneeled to kiss it, maintaining eye contact throughout.

“Kaeya, my dear.”

You were surprised to find him waiting for you outside the headquarters one day, handsome navy strands haloed in confidence, a delicate flower and perfumed letter in hand. Kaeya watched you read it in silence, his poem dedicated to you, requesting a date. You couldn’t help but smile at his charm, despite his sweaty palms as he awaited your answer. An accumulation of the little things; the bouquet of roses he bought you weekly, so you’d always have a fresh one, making sure you were always hydrated, his ability to make you laugh in trying times. You were both full of adoration, though he wouldn’t admit how invested he was. The only person who glimpsed the truth was Diluc. Kaeya rambled in his drunken stupor at the tavern, and Diluc sighed at the overdramatic sonnet. “My heart beats for her like no other. Will this be my fate? My Greek tragedy?” he mumbled through hiccups.

As your relationship blossomed, work withered. An emerging problem reared its ugly head. Your assignments consumed your daily life and dwindled the moments spent with Kaeya. In the beginning stages of dating he understood, exuding nothing but patience and encouraging words. He didn’t expect you to drop work for him, and he was willing to accommodate the hectic schedule. Romantic gestures were limited to light caresses or kisses, clandestine sessions in abandoned alleyways. Frequent dates reduced to a couple a week, then a month, then none. The worst instances were when you assured Kaeya you’d arrive, only to call him a couple hours later with a tired apology, still stuck at your office. You promised him you’d make time for yourself and practice self-care, but it was evident you weren’t listening to his advice. You were no stranger to quickies, kindly offering them to Kaeya if he ever needed “destressing”. But the captain was never a fan of rushed affairs. He wanted desperately to share extended time with you, and you had none to give. It became easier to lie than to admit how overworked you were.

Kaeya didn’t come to headquarters today, but you recall the conversation from the previous night.

“Mm, I’m missing my little dove. Think you can come see me?” he said, tilting your chin up to meet his loving gaze.

“Of course. I don’t have a lot of work tomorrow so I should be done early.”

“Great. I’ll make dinner for us. Be at my place by 8, okay?” You agreed to the timeframe.

Now that you’re comprehending the incomplete documents strewn across your desk, you regret your conviction. You shouldered the weight of everyone in your division. It’s getting close to the date, and you’ve barely scratched the surface. You fumble for concentration, anchoring down to finish the rest of the list. You make haste and shove the papers at Hertha. I still have time to get there you thought. Glancing up at the clock as you dart out the building, your eyes widen at what it reads. 10:15 pm.

Fuck. You’re running now, skirt bouncing and bag rustling, navigating busy streets with an uneasy mind. Once again you promised, and once again you broke it. How could you be so careless? You catch your breath when your hand contacts the door. You relax before giving a few light knocks. The door swings open.

Kaeya’s hair is free from its usual constraints, draping down his back and shoulders, wispy bangs hugging his sharp features. He’s clearly pissed reclining against the doorframe. He stares at you with his arms folded in front of the parted button down that peaks into the muscular, scarred chest underneath.

“Kaeya, I-”

“Get inside.” He turns and walks to the kitchen. You follow him inside and take note of the cold portion of a beautiful plate—presumably your meal—sitting on the table. He swishes the nearly finished red wine before taking a sip. You search aimlessly for an acceptable excuse while he leans against the table with his hand, glass in the other, eyes trained to the floor. Each second of silence simmering makes your stomach knot tighter, and he lets you stand uncomfortably.

“I’m sorry, I... There were a few roads closed in the area. I had to take a different route.” you fib. He gazes at you, panning up and down before forcing a sarcastic smile.

“How unfortunate. Are these the same roads that made you three hours late?" His jaw tightens.

“It was pretty busy today-”

“I’m feeling generous tonight, so I'll give you one more chance to be honest.”

You sighed. “I’m so sorry. There’s been a lot of work lately. It’s not fair to you to deal with my problems.” He scoffs deeply, downing the rest of the glass and sets it on the table.

“If this isn’t working for you, I understand.”

“Oh? Are you suggesting a separation? Not even the gall to try and make it up to me?” he sneers.

“You’re handsome and people like you. It’s not hard to find other options.”

“If it’s not hard, why is the one thing I truly desire so difficult to hold? A petal drifting unpredictable wind, too quick to grasp.” He starts stalking towards you, relaxed but seemingly irritated. The contrast between his words and actions unnerves you.

“How many times must I tell you to take care of yourself, to not let them walk over you, to come to me if you need help?” He gets to you and snakes his calloused hand behind your neck, a firm grip. Yearning lips are inches from yours, his hair tickles your eyelashes.

“Why can’t you just listen to me, (Y/N)? Hmm?” He’s lenient, but you feel a shiver up your back and heat pooling in your stomach, nonetheless.

“I’ll try harder. I promise.” you say, barely above a whisper. The pad of his thumb swirls your cheek.

“I won’t entertain promises. Show me your dedication.”

“What do I do to prove it?” A sadistic grin grows across his face, and lips graze your ear, sultry voice coiling around the shell. Your breath stalls.

“Tonight, I’ll eat you up slowly-” Kaeya peppers soft kisses between the words against your jaw. “-savoring every. Little. Bite.” He trails down to your neck. You're melting in his hold, grabbing his robust arms for anything to stabilize you. "And when I’m picking you apart, and there’s tears in your eyes and you’re begging and you can’t take it anymore-” He drinks up your anticipation, an amused chuckle from the shudder prickling your skin.

“-you’ll sit there and obey me until I'm done. Like a good pet.”

You’re stripped of everything besides your underwear in front of the restlessly eager man. Standing in the center of this candlelit room, you feel miles away from him as he sits fully clothed on the edge of the bed. He’s lax, legs spread with a nonchalant posture; they invite you to kneel between them. Sex with Kaeya was never like this. Though infrequent, your back-alley blowjobs were done with kindness and haste. It was one thing for Kaeya to ogle your mouthwatering figure, another in the humiliating state he constrains you to. Your hands are bound by leather handcuffs that clip to a chunky black collar on both sides, limiting the movement of your wrists to just centimeters away from your face. You could move if you tried to, but the collar locked and tightened around your neck the harder you struggled. In the middle was attached a dangling leash, empty of its owner.

The vibrating lace panties he put you in buzz agonizingly low against your clit, sending gentle bursts to the butt plug filling deep, foreign space in your body. You’re glutted, chafing your thighs together to numb the sweet ache dotting your core.

“C’mere dove.” Kaeya orders, his finger curls in a guiding motion. You take one step assuming his entreat, and he retorts with a tut.

“Aht aht, dogs don’t walk. Get on your knees and crawl to me.” Embarrassment overcomes you as you drop to your knees from the filthy demand. It’s degrading, having to crawl without the use of your arms. You scuffle with balance, and he takes pleasure in playing with the controller. Your rocking rear and wobbly legs find rhythm on the floor through the violent highs and lows of vibration. It was harder due to the position you stumbled in; the bullet teases you in the right spots. You finally reach him, resting your head on his knee, exhausted for what’s to come. He merely pats your head and uses the other to stifle the smug smirk.

“Good puppy. Look at me.” Suddenly, he wraps the leash around his hand and pulls in taut. It snaps your eyes to his lustful expression, a thick aura that encapsulates you, suffocates you in his command. Kaeya zips his pants down to spring his throbbing cock free, a dark brown gradient to the mushroom tip.

“Suck. If you let anything spill, I’ll punish you” he cooes. You lick the pre come away, fixating on the sensitive tip. His breathy sighs show appreciation. You lick in circular motions around it before lolling your tongue and taking all of him between your lips. His girth makes space in your mouth impossible until the head presses the back of your throat. “Ugh, fuck” he groans. Kaeya stands and pulls the leash towards him, enough to nuzzle your nose against his pubes. You gag and slobber over his balls from the constant pressure in your throat, and he keeps you there, watching the tears ball in your eyes, unfazed by your retching pleas. He keeps a firm grip on the back of your head.

“Can you take it?” It’s almost mocking, as if he can’t see the mascara that smears your cheeks and your sweaty, breathless figure. You nod anyway, eager to please. He hums approval before pulling out completely and hammering his length down your throat. His heavy balls smack your chin at a savage pace, and strings of spit connect your puffy lips to his shaft. It’s barbaric and your throat is raw from the impact, but he chases his high. You’re absolutely powerless, your hands can’t even push his thighs back. However, subconsciously it felt nice, to be out of control, at the mercy of someone else using you for their impulse. The whir in your soaking panties feels richer now, tangling in your lower back and clouding your senses. All you smell and feel is him, it was like you never worked a day in your life. Like you were made for this, and this alone. Obscene noises come from your squelching mouth and Kaeya’s broken moans. Fuck and yes are all he can handle through constant whimpers, and you feel him trembling toward his release. He tilts your head to get a better view of you, spit and tears mixed with strands of hair stuck to your skin. You were a mess. But his eyes are solely on you, drenched in adoration and pure love for your trust in him.

“I want this pretty face on me when I come” he whines and speeds up his thrusts before spurting hot, creamy ropes down your throat, painting your mouth white. He twitches wildly on your tongue till rest, and his guttural moans echo in your ears as you hollow your cheeks to suck him clean. A satisfying pop emerges when you free his tip, and he recollects himself. He somehow looks completely untouched, besides the sheen of sweat; the poise of a prince.

Once Kaeya comes to his senses, he eyes the evidence of wetness that soaks through your panties, along with drops of pre come you failed to notice. Truthfully, you tried hard to avoid spilling anything, but the sensations in both your back and front were dizzying. He drawls a dramatic sigh, and loosely fiddles with the leash.

“Didn’t I say not to spill anything?” His words are methodical, weaving enough vitriol to make your blood still at the upcoming punishment. “I’m sorr-”

“You made a mess. Clean it.” He drops the leash and waits. What you assumed to be a towel clean-up was quickly refuted as you felt the tension of his boot press on your upper back. With just enough weight, he forces your body down towards the fluids, arms crossed. You lick it up without complaint. “Good puppy” he praises.

Kaeya picks you up as if you’re featherlight and sets you on the edge of the bed on your stomach. You can’t see what he’s doing, and the silence frightens you. Immediately, the judder of the bullet increases significantly—not enough to make you come, but just enough to torment. You attempt to sway from undying heat between your legs, yet the static overtakes. Unbeknownst to you, the butt plug begins to vibrate, as well. You whine and arch your back involuntarily. You finally hear a deep chuckle from Kaeya. His fingers graze your sopping underwear.

“So naughty, you got like this just from sucking me off?” He pushes the bullet harshly against you. You mewl from the feeling. “Please Kaeya, it’s too much.”

“Shh, I know, I know. We still have a long way to go.” he soothes. He spreads your ass to reveal more area, and he’s hushed to an alluring whisper in your ear. “(Y/N). I’m going to spank you. And each time I do, you’ll count. One, thank you. Two, thank you. Up to sixteen. Understand?”

“Yes” you rasped.

“Good girl.”

Kaeya massages your backside and prepares a slap. His palm crashes sharply on one with a resounding crack. Blazing surge sprawls across the whole cheek, but you manage to stay afloat. “One, thank you.” He promptly delivers another, a staggering strike to match the other cheek. “Two, thank you” you hissed. He kneads the smoldering dough in his hands and smiles at the juices stuck to your inner thighs.

“Such a pervert. You’re not enjoying this, are you?” he teases. The lines of pleasure and pain blurred for you long before. The crackling fire of his hand swatting your ass makes you cry out. He’s brutal, and the grip you have on his sheets colors your knuckles white. You endure delicious thwacks with a tender bottom all the way through thirteen. Your malleable mind forgets to count past that, forgets your place. Kaeya feigns hurt. “Am I that forgettable? Should we start over?” A shudder trails down your back.

“M’no, Kaeya ple-ase. ‘M sorry.” you stammer. He swipes your tears with his thumb and licks it. “I’m touched by your tears” he groans. He moves back to your searing bottom, digging crescent shaped indents into the welted flesh with his nails.

“Do you know why I had you count to sixteen?”

“N-no...”

A low hmph. “That’s the number of dates you missed.” You go pale for a second. “It won’t happen again, Kaeya. Please!” you beg. The need for release ruins your rational thoughts, and he can taste your desperation. “Please what, dove?” He plays ignorance. “Tell me exactly what you want.” He caresses your face lovingly, despite his cruelty.

“Wanna come, I need it so bad, Kaeya.” His name rolling off your tongue in lewd fervor makes his length constrict in his pants. You’re putty in his presence, and he delights in molding you to his wishes.

"Are you worthy of it?" he taunts. Fresh tears brim your eyes, and he can’t fight back the snicker in his throat. He walks away from you, and you’re left alone until you feel the mattress give way under his knee. What little sight you had in front of you is robbed by the silky black blindfold pulling stiff on your eyes. “Too tight?”

“A little.” He loosens it a bit and kisses your temple. Suddenly, a sphere makes contact with your lips, and you open. The ball gag secures around the back of your head, and you’re already salivating from the stretch of your jaw.

“You know what, I’ll let you come.” he lulled. You can’t hear the malicious tinge in his words, and he swiftly turns both vibrators up to a harrowing speed at the same time. A strangled moan gets caught in your throat and you quiver and lurch over. He spanks your sore behind in response.

“Keep your back arched. I want a perfect view” he husks. You use the stamina you have left to stay in that position. Your hips are unconsciously rutting against the bullet, and the ecstasy lapping at your swollen clit sends trails of fire up your stomach. Kaeya watches the saturated outline of your convulsing vulva, the honeyed, muffled moans unending and palms his erection.

“I’m sorry, this must be so hard for you” he soothes. “Almost as hard as it was for me to hear you lie so blatantly.” Kaeya wasn’t a man that held grudges, but he took amusement in your reactions. All he can think about is breaking you, with each touch and kiss; so that you travel through heaven and hell, drowning in desire until he carries you out. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and you come hard, hole fluttering around nothing with electricity squirming in your bones. However, the pressure doesn’t stop, it seems to vibrate faster as you buck and cry. “Oops, wrong setting.” He turns it up higher, the bastard. It rips through your orgasm, already approaching another and you can’t take the sting. “Tell me if it’s too much” he sneers. Your hands jolt and snap back to the collar.

“I’ll turn it off later, I’m kind of busy right now. You know, work and stuff.” What? He wouldn’t leave you like this, right? Undecipherable noises bounce around the gag, but none persuade him. Footsteps get quieter, then the door shuts.

You can’t look or beg for Kaeya, and tears begin to stain the blindfold. Buzzing roars in your ears, your limbs are too weak to hold up and you can barely breathe. Your thighs shake from sick passion, and you come undone again over the persistent toys. The twenty minutes he was gone felt like hours. Your muffled sobs are uncontrollable, come cascading down your legs and spit dribbles from your lips. You aren’t sure how many times you came before he got back.

The Archons must have shown mercy; the vibrations stopped. You hear that suave voice resounding in your brain.

“I think you’ve earned a break.” he says, freeing the panties from you. The plug steadily glides out of your pulsing ring, and he removes the blindfold. Kaeya is the first thing you see, and for a moment he shines like royalty. The gag comes off and you’re babbling Kaeya’s name over and over like a chant, a devoted disciple. He cradles your face and hushes you.

“It’s okay, I’m here.” He flips you on your back. You’re in a daze gazing at him but his attention is lowered to your spread legs, slabbering at the slippery aftermath of his abandonment.

“Beautiful. A living work of art” he whispered. His mask dissolves before you. He reaches for one of the red candles glowing vividly on his nightstand and returns with the wax-leaking stick. You share a soft kiss, warm and pure while he tilts the candle over your chest. He’s careful with the course and allows it to dance across your breasts, down your sternum and above your pelvis. Each crimson plop and fleck are its own singing thrill, but your awareness is diverted to his wanton kisses, the nips on your bottom lip. Heat reignites your core. Once he blows out the candle, he smudges French kisses down your neck, tracing the pattern of the wax to subdue the burn. “You’re flawless” he breaths against your nipple. He sucks one while pinching the other, the occasional bite on your slightly bruising skin makes you wince. He slides off the bed and starts stripping with an insatiable thirst that longed to be inside you, shirt and pants thrown about. In one swoop, he grabs your thighs and pulls you to the edge.

“If I uncuff you, will you behave?” You nod frantically with the clinking metal, and he detaches the restraints. He brings your legs over his shoulder, and you feel the cockhead prodding your slit. Kaeya sinks his tip into you, and you’re suddenly overcome with frenetic throbbing that ripples through your hypersensitive clit. “W-wait, Kaeya-” You don’t have nearly enough strength to protest when you grab his wrists settled on your waist—he’s determined to fuck it out of you. “Mm, just a little more” He’s craving, his veins rub your walls all the way to the base. With his balls flush, he pulls out and drives into you. The first pump sends a flaming shock through your body, an abyssal fall you succumb to. You can’t register the erotic screams or pleasant shock of Kaeya as a stream of liquid coats your bodies and drenches the sheets. Your hysterical sobs and innocent sorry’s are music to his ears, better than any melody in Teyvat. He rubs circles on your lower belly and starts again at an unrelenting pace. “I-I can’t Kaeya, ‘m coming so hard.” you wail, writhing from the deep strokes coaxing your g-spot. Your stomach quakes and you grip him like a vice, he can’t stop the feral urge. “Fuck- aww, sweetie. I know, I know. Can you do another one, for me?” He tries to keep his composure, but his voice is bordering unhinged, dying to see you squirt again. Kaeya's chest pins yours and he pummels your cunt with your shaky legs locked around him. Your nails latch onto his back and you weep into his shoulder. The emotion is too intense; your heart thrums viciously in your ears.

“You’re my pretty little fuck toy, hmm?” he stutters through thrusts. “Just lay here and take my cock. Quit your job. Be mine entirely.” Loud plap’s accompany his silent plea, and you feel another orgasm boiling. His palm pressing on your womb makes you incoherent and he chuckles. “Aw sweetie, it feels too good?” he mocks. You touch foreheads. You’re both teeming, waiting for each other. “Give it to me. Come on my cock like a good slut” he demands. Wave after relentless wave splinters you, and the gushing sprinkler covers him exactly like he wanted. Kaeya moans at the sight. “Shit, ‘m coming.” He pursues his sputtering hips, shooting thick globs that greedily crowd your sex.

Kaeya breathes heavily as he comes down from his peak twitching inside. You still tremble sporadically in his arms. He rubs your back, placing calming kisses all over your face. “You alright, pretty girl?” You’re edging on unconsciousness. He stays with you until you gather responsiveness.

When you wake, the collar is off, and you identify concern in his eyes. “You weren't this scared when you were killing me” you murmur quietly. Kaeya flashes a genuine smile. “If you died from good sex, that’d be quite the compliment on my part.” He props you into his lap facing him, and you're reposed on his chest. He pats your hair, staring off into nothing and everything.

“I’d much rather have you in pieces. Because I’m the only one that can put you back together.” It was a passing thought, one that shouldn’t be said out loud. It churns in your gut, and you aren’t sure why.

“You worked so hard today. Let’s take a bath, okay?”

#genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact #kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich #genshin impact kaeya #kaeya smut #kaeya

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probably-writing-x · 1 year

Text

Eyes On You

Summary: You were practically the princess of Outer Banks, everyone knew it. So, when you started dating Rafe Cameron, to say people had something to say about it would be an understatement. And there was only so much of it that the two of you could take.

Warnings: Some sexual references, cursing, Rafe being a protective bf

Author’s Note: Saw a tiktok about male book characters leaning against doorways and it inspired this entire story :) Enjoy and send in any requests you may have

Not my gif

“Babe can you help me?” Rafe calls out to you from the bedroom, where you’re fixing up the last of your makeup, there’s a stress to his voice.

“What have you done?” You laugh, setting down your mascara and walking across to the bedroom.

He was stood in front of the mirror with his bowtie dangling around his neck, clearly having given up on the fight against it.

“I hate these things,” He grumbles, dragging a hand over his hair.

“Leave your hair alone,” You hit his hand away, “Come here.”

You fold the silky material pieces over themselves until it resembles the bow shape and fixing it in the centre of the top of his shirt.

Rafe lifts his hands up over yours and pulls both of them to his lips to kiss you, “What would I do without you?”

You hum with his contact as he laces his fingers with yours and squeezes your hands three times. The two of you hadn’t managed to get out of going to one of your family’s events - full of people that thought the world of themselves, and had enough money in the bank to act like they could prove it. Rafe, of course, would be by your side, as much as he hated these things too. It was all shaking hands and comments on how you were ‘too good for him’ - though your parents and their friends thought of you as too good for everyone. You’d picked out a pale blue suit for Rafe, one that brought out a brightness to his face, and you were wearing a navy dress that matched the dark blue of his bowtie.

“You look beautiful,” He comments, leaning down slowly to press a kiss to your lips, delicate as if he’s worried he’ll damage the art in front of him.

“Thanks babe,” You smile, fixing the messier strands of his hair, “Are you ready to go?”

“Am I ever?”

~~~

Inevitably, the two of you were late by the time you both walked in. There were people spilling all over the ballroom venue, faces you recognised from growing up amongst faces around others that your parents were likely trying to impress. Everyone that saw you greeted you warmly, telling you that you had grown up too fast. With each person that you had to force pleasantries with, Rafe could see you getting more and more tense. He was sure this kind of night was your idea of hell.

“I’ll go and get us some drinks, darling,” He mentions, placing a hand on your back, “What do you fancy?”

“Anything, I don’t mind,” You smile at him and he squeezes your hand before disappearing through the crowd.

You were in conversation with your old neighbours, who were telling you about a new holiday home they’d just bought, and you’d completely lost interest.

“So, you and Rafe are still together?” The woman asks, raising her brows just momentarily.

“Yeah, over a year now,” You smile, even the mention of his name making your stomach flip like it did when you’d first got together.

“Are you sure, honey?”

The question makes your heart sink, and you lose your words.

“I’m just not sure if he is the one for you,” She sighs, as if her words are said with good sentiment.

“I’m sorry?”

“We just want what is best for you,” She squeezes your arm and you pull away from her touch quickly.

“I’m sorry, I need to go,” You manage to force out, your eyes flicking across the room. You don’t find Rafe amongst the faces but you know you need to get away.

So often people tried to tell you that Rafe wasn’t enough for you, as if he were a boy damaged beyond repair and he would never be the boyfriend they expected you to have. They didn’t see the way he remembered all of the little details you told him, how he bought you flowers whenever he felt like it, how he made sure you knew he loved you every day. He was everything, even if they couldn’t see it.

~~~

Rafe was caught in conversation with two of the boys you’d gone to school with. They reminded him of himself from a few years ago, before he’d met you and before he’d changed. They spoke of nothing if they weren’t bragging, finding a way to mention their wealth or their status or their girls at every chance. The latter was their current topic.

“Listen, she was fit, but like nothing more than that,” One of them shakes his head, taking a long sip of his beer.

Rafe was hovering awkwardly between them, your champagne glass in his hand still waiting to be able to get it to you. He had to make a good impression at these things, he knew what they all thought of him otherwise.

“I mean, come on,” The boy scoffs, “I’m not tying myself down unless shes at least an eleven out of ten.”

Rafe is holding back a wince when the attention turns to him.

“Cameron, you still with (Y/N)?”

He pinches at the lobe of his ear, avoiding the anger that would normally course through him, “Yeah, yeah, still together,” He nods.

“Fuck, man, I don’t know how you do that shit,” One of the boys laughs, “One woman?”

“Oh, come on, this is Rafe Cameron, there’s no way he’s only fucking her.”

Rafe can’t do it for much longer, his grip tightens around the glass of champagne as if it was grounding him to you.

“Yeah, (Y/N)’s fit as fuck but she was always uptight in school, she’d never let anyone fuck her.”

Rafe sets the champagne glass down on the table, “Alright, fuck you,” He swings back his arm and launches a fist towards the jaw of the boy talking before anyone has a chance to stop him, before he can find any justification to not do it.

He pulls his hand away and the other boys scramble to their friend like a litter of lost puppies, pulling him up to stop him from stumbling over. Rafe shakes off his hand and picks up the champagne once again, directing himself towards the door before any of them can get a hand to him.

He pushes his way through a few more people until he gets to a clearing nearer the back of the room, where you were leaning against a doorframe, your back to him. Rafe comes up behind you, a hand over his head to grip the top of the doorframe as he towers over you from behind. You turn over your shoulder and instantly brighten at the sight of him.

“There you are!” You beam, a smile creasing the sides of your eyes.

“Here you go, m’lady,” He swings his arm around to bring the drink to you and you instantly notice the blotchy redness on his hand, the kind that is quickly turning into a bruise.

“Rafe, what happened?” You grip his hand gently before he can pull it away from you.

He sniffs and clears his throat, “Those assholes from your school.”

“Okay.”

He’s surprised at first, no anger in you for him getting into fights, no worry about the people he’s hit, no ‘please don’t do that again’.

“Okay?”

You hum and lean back a little into his chest, lifting the flute to your lips and finishing the glass.

“Alright who are you and what have you done with (Y/N)?” He quips, bringing a hand up to massage into your shoulder.

“I hate it here,” You sigh, setting the glass down and leaning even further into him.

He rubs at your skin more, leaning down to press a kiss in the spot, his lips lingering before he perches his chin on top of your shoulder, “Do you want to get out of here?”

You nod, turning your head to kiss his temple, the sort of contact that makes him smile like a boy with his first crush.

“Let’s go home,” He drops his hand to lace his fingers with yours, the other hand falling to the bottom of your spine to guide you through the crowd.

“Wait a second,” You mention quickly, ducking out of his grip when you spot a waiter carrying a fresh bottle of champagne across the room of people.

You swipe it from him, spilling some of the golden liquid over your hand, hurrying back over to Rafe.

“What the-“ He laughs, looking at you with an admiration in his eyes that he never lost.

You grab his hand tightly in yours and pull him through the crowd, both of you pushing past bodies like they weren’t even there. You know they’re all looking at you, like you were the King and Queen’s princess, looking at Rafe as if he were the boy that corrupted you. But you don’t care. His hand is in yours and there’s enough adrenaline pacing through your veins for you to just keep running with him.

When the two of you break through to the outside, Rafe spins you into his arms, wrapping his grip around your waist and pulling you into him. You’re both breathless, a wildness to your eyes as if you were two escaped convicts. He brings a hand up and cups your cheek, kissing you with pressure like he’s forcing you to remember that he loves you. That, in that moment, he doesn’t think he’s ever loved you more.

And as much as all of those guests’ eyes had seemed to be burning into you all night, there was nothing else that mattered when Rafe’s eyes were on you, telling you everything that his words never could.

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yandere-writer-momo · 4 months

Text

Wanted to write something short and angsty but also with the dabble of fantasy. Enjoy

Yandere Short Stories: Loved By Death

Yandere GN Grim Reaper x Afab MMA Fighter Reader

A meadow full of forget me note greeted (your name) when she finally opened her eyes. The baby blue flowers felt unwelcoming despite their delicate scent. Where was she? All she remembered was winning the tournament and then… and then it was all blank.

“You’re not supposed to be here yet.” A familiar voice reached her ears which made her freeze. (Your name) whipped her head around to come face to face with her little sister. The young girl still had the same innocent appearance she had the last time she saw her… before she was murdered. “It’s not your time.”

(Your name) rushed forward and grabbed the little girl’s hand. She didn’t want to leave her sister, she didn’t want to live without seeing her face again.

“Ava, I’m here… I’m here with you.” (Your name) muttered, her expression hopeful. “Please, I want to stay this time. Please let me stay with you…”

Ava frowned and bent down to grab her older sister’s cheeks. Her thumbs brushed away the hot tears. Why were Ava’s fingers so cold? She was never so cold…

“You have a bigger purpose, big sister. You’re meant for so much more than chasing after death.” Ava whispered. “You need to let me go. There are people that will love you-“

“I don’t care about other people, I simply want to stay with you. I want to wake up from this hellish nightmare to see my precious little sister.” (Your name) clung to her sister who wrapped her small arms around her. Ava was cold like ice and it upset (your name) even more. “It’s my fault I couldn’t protect you. It should have been me-“

Ava placed her fingers over (your name)’s lips to silence her. “It’s not your fault, it was never your fault.”

(Your name) nodded her head and held Ava closer to her body. Her chin rested on the small girl’s blonde locks. Even though they were not related by blood, Ava was her most precious person. Her pillar and strength.

When Ava gruesomely died at the hands of a rival, (your name) couldn’t forgive herself. If she hadn’t gotten into a man’s world of martial arts, would the outcome have been different? Would Ava still be alive? What if she had just settled for an idyllic life rather than one of glory and gore?

(Your name)’s head spun with many what ifs, yet none satisfied her desire for a different outcome. So (your name) always settled for putting herself in the path of death every time. All so she could see her little sister once more, to sit in this picturesque field of flowers.

“You’re over thinking again.” Ava hummed while she pulled back. Her small fingers poked (your name)’s furrowed brow. “You keep furrowing your brow and you’ll put wrinkles on your pretty face. Then how will you ever get a husband?”

(Your name) bitterly laughed. “How could I ever love a man when they have only ever shown us violence.”

“You’re such a Debbie downer.” Ava sighed, the young girl pointed at the sky that showed a bloody (your name) receiving CPR by the paramedics. “You’re going to be in so much pain when you go back. You better hurry before you shorten your life even more. Stop your dance with death, before you do die for real.”

“And what if I don’t?” (Your name) asked in a hushed tone. “If I continue down this path… will I see you again or will I burn?”

Ava chuckled. “I thought you weren’t religious? We just won’t be able to meet for awhile is all. This is the fiftieth time this year that you’ve come to see me, you mad woman.”

“Is it so strange to want to see my most precious person?”

“It is. People are starting to think you’re the undead.” Ava stood up and held her hand out for (your name) to take. “Walk with me.”

“Of course. It’s what I look most forward to.”

The two girls walked together in the field of flowers for a few short minutes before they stood in front of a golden door.

“This is where we part again. Big sis?” Ava smiled warmly at (your name). “Please take care of yourself. I better not see you here again. I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah. No promises.” (Your name) put her hands in her pocket, the young woman giving Ava a warm smile. “I love you more.”

The two sisters then parted ways, Ava now left alone once more in her field of flowers. The young girl turned around to stare at the hooded figure that stood on the hill.

“For how long do you and my sister plan to dance, death?” Ava asked in a hushed tone, she was perplexed by the reaper’s fascination. “Do you enjoy this game that much?”

Death nodded, the skeleton’s red eyes admired the flowers that slowly began to rot and decay as they walked closer to Ava. “Until she begs me to take her.”

Ava rolled her eyes at the reaper whose bones rattled with excitement. Never would the blonde have thought Death was a lovesick fool.

The reaper sighed before he turned to Ava. “Do you think she’d like me if I had flesh? Should I be more masculine or feminine presenting?”

Ava glanced the skeleton up and down. “I don’t think she’s ever dated before so I don’t think it’d matter.”

The reaper hugged themself with their skeletal arms. How badly they wished to hug (your name), to hold her tightly and never let her go. They could picture it! They were sure (your name) would love to stay in this flower field with Ava and them till the end of time!

“You’re a freak.” Ava muttered at the skeleton who held their cheeks like a school girl with a crush. “Stop that. You’re supposed to be a grim reaper, not a grim simp.”

“You have no idea the magnitude of my feelings. To roam my entire existence reaping the souls of the deceased.” The reaper replied in a hushed tone. “And then to meet someone who just won’t die… whose soul will not stay in my real… she’s perfect.”

Ava sighed and sat down in the flowers. Her poor, unsuspecting sister was loved by death.

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starbleye · 3 months

Text

sculpted

Megumi has always been good with his hands, just not his emotions. Until now. (cw: smut; wc: 2200)

Megumi knew his hands like the back of, well, his hands. Art had always been a part of him from a very young age. Finger paints turned into oils on canvas, sidewalk chalk became charcoal sketches. Most importantly, mud pies turned into clay sculptures. If there was one form of art that Megumi was drawn to most, it was pottery.

The minute he came into contact with those dollar store modeling clay kits, he knew he wanted to hold on to it for the rest of his life. He dedicated years of his life, starting with throwing together simple shapes and dishes manipulated by hand. As time went on, his hands became more dexterous in fashioning the clay to match his vision. Delicate yet firm touches to the clay allowed Megumi to craft his imagination into the tangible world. He dedicated himself to his art, he worshiped his talent.

Until you came along.

Unwavering, unshakeable Megumi was rocked when you first entered his life. For the longest time, he believed he was content with his solitude, abhorrent to unnecessary connections that could only bring him pain. He only trusted the porcelain of his heart to be held in his own hands, yet he craved for your soft arms to carry the weight of his fragility.

You were always the source of light in a room from the way you carried yourself. You were sound with who you were and rooted in where you stood, drawing the energy towards yourself with a subtle hand. You lifted Megumi out of his self-induced confinement, but you never pushed or shoved him more than he could take. He could never understand how a person like you could even stand to be around a person like himself; cold, apathetic, protected.

Yet you never looked at him in pity. Instead you saw Megumi as a young kid who was thrust into a life he wasn't ready for and commended his attempts to open up, as small as they were.

But Megumi knew he stood no chance at having you. His desire to have you all to himself was one sided, but he would rather wallow in his craving to have you in his arms rather than scare you away with his feelings.

"How long have you been throwing that?" you asked, shaking Megumi from his thoughts. He looked up at your curious eyes before looking back at the clay on his wheel, smooth as can be. Not as smooth as her skin, he thought to himself.

"Long enough, I guess," he replied, solemnly. The only reason Megumi was in the studio today was to get his mind off you and the date that you were supposed to be on. As fate would have it, your date stood you up and Megumi's studio was the first place you turned to in order to let it all out.

He sat in silence at the wheel, twisting and contorting some sort of vase that widened and narrowed to his heart's desire. All the while, you ranted about your latest trials in love, condemning each and every man Megumi knew wasn't good enough for you. "That's the last time I ever go on a blind date," you finally sighed, relaxing your weight against a table.

He continued to sit silently, overflowing with the urge to hold you tenderly and prove himself better than any other person who dared look in your direction. "Do you have anything to say?" you asked, fishing for any advice or consolation from your dear friend.

"I need to wash my hands," was all Megumi said as he slammed a fist into the misshapen vase out of frustration. Wordlessly, he got up and headed to the sink, tryin oh so hard not to focus on the perfect pout you gave him. How he wanted to run his fingers against your soft lips, to let his own lips memorize the feeling and taste of them. Shaking his head to rid himself of such thoughts, Megumi did his best to thoroughly scrub the clay out of his hands. All the while, a sudden fire lit inside his core, spreading through the rest of his body despite his attempts to quell it.

He turned back around to find you observing the sculptures on his shelf. One had caught your eye; the bust Megumi had created to resemble his mother. Lithely, he slipped behind your frame, maintaining a friendly distance but close enough for either you or himself to close it.

You sensed his presence behind you and, without turning around, said, "This is beautiful, is that your mother?" He nodded. "Makes sense, you have her eyes..." you trailed off, suddenly feeling Megumi become dangerously close. Risking it, you turned around to come face to face with those blue eyes, clouded with an emotion you had never seen before.

Megumi's throat dried up as he attempted to rasp out your name. "Please..." was the last thing he could muster before he closed the gap, hovering his lips inches from yours. He could feel the warmth radiating off your cheeks as he waited for you to reciprocate.

A second passed as you tried not to reel from the shock, but your body moved before your mind could understand as your hands intertwined into his obsidian hair.

A noise escaped Megumi's mouth as years of pining escaped his body in that kiss. Tenderly, he felt your soft lips moving against his, tasting faintly of cherries. His own hands moved from his sides to the space between your hip and waist, fitting perfectly.

Mindful of the delicate pottery behind you, Megumi began to guide your body towards the closest and cleanest table. Not once did he take his lips off yours, only opening his eyes briefly to make sure no one would get hurt. When your body hit the edge of the table, you let out a small gasp as Megumi's strong hands lifted you up effortlessly.

Still, his eyes remained forcefully closed. "Megumi, look at me," you said, pulling away from the kiss.

"I can't, I'm dreaming," he murmured, tilting his head down to stop anything from breaking this fantasy come true.

A hearty giggle came from your chest as your hand cupped his chin, then his cheeks, before gently coaxing his eyes to open. "You aren't dreaming," you assured him, leaning in again and leaving a trail of kisses across his jaw to his neck. His core was close to yours and you both could tell the other was definitely real.

Your own throat started to feel dry in a way you had never experienced before and your hands trailed to the hem of your shirt. "Is this okay?" you asked, starting to wrap your legs around Megumi's waist.

A look of desperation crossed Megumi's face as he let out a hastened "yes" and brought his hands under your shirt as you began to lift it up. Never had you heard a man moan as tenderly as he had when his eyes fell on your breasts.

And never had Megumi felt or seen skin as beautiful and real as yours. With a careful hand, his fingers traced the span of your abdomen, taking in the full sight of you. "Oh, god. I'm touching an angel," he breathed out. He continued his hands upward to your bra, unhooking it skillfully and immediately laying his hands on your nipples.

With skillful digits, he rolled the flesh of your breasts as if he were shaping clay. Megumi was already committing the feeling to memory so he could use it when he was alone. "More," you let out quietly, not entirely embarrassed but definitely flustered at being held so well by your best friend.

Abiding by your orders, Megumi tilted his head towards one of your nipples and used his tongue to stimulate them, causing a satisfied groan to release from your chest. You had already started moving yourself against him, so Megumi moved his hands to your hips to start a rhythm. He also began to roll his hips against yours to increase the feeling.

Still, he needed more. Looking at you with an approving gaze, you nodded as Megumi began to undo the button and zipper of your pants and quickly discarded them. "You're so wet," he said in almost a question, amazed that his touch caused you to react in such a way. His hand made a path to your core, pushing aside your panties and stopping at your clit to start rubbing it.

Megumi seemed to know how these things worked as he applied firm pressure here and there, changing direction and movement depending on your reaction. He watched your chest heave as you breathed deeply to keep your grounding. Your hands were grasping for anything to keep your head tied to your body. Instinctively, your legs started to close from the attention, but Megumi's powerful hand held your thighs apart as he began to slip a finger into your cunt.

"Megumi!" you cried, the pleasure building. He looked up at you, the cloudy emotion from earlier finally being pinpointed as carnal desire. His finger stroked your insides as if he knew it by heart. Almost instantly, he found the place where you were most sensitive.

For every moan and groan and praise you let out, Megumi responded with the same if not more. You could feel yourself starting to approach your orgasm and you leaned up to hold onto his shoulders, digging your nails into the skin. Megumi could feel you tighten around his fingers and let out a moan, imagining how it would feel to have you tighten and come all over his cock.

Without warning, he sped up his leisurely pace to bring you even closer. You started to cry out his name in warning when he suddenly pulled himself away. At first you were confused as to the abrupt distance, but your confusion was answered as Megumi began to strip himself of his own clothing.

Quickly, you ran to your purse and grabbed the fresh condom you had put there earlier. Megumi hadn't fully taken off his pants or boxers before you pushed him into a nearby chair. He obliged to your taking of control, whimpering when your smooth hands came into contact with his searing cock. You pumped him a couple of times before slipping the condom on, earning a stuttered moan with each pull.

"I need you. So bad, please," Megumi murmured, eyes lilting in your direction. Wasting no time, you slowly began to sink onto his lap, your breath catching in your throat as you stretched around him.

Megumi was not faring too well, hands flying to your hips the minute your cunt enveloped his tip. Trying to practice his self-restraint, he gripped your hips to stop himself from shoving his whole length into you. If he thought clay was his life, you had officially changed that.

You continued to sink onto his length, Megumi noting that your pussy was more malleable than the clay that sat rejected. Finally, you had taken him to the hilt, both of you letting out euphoric moans. "You're so big," you sighed, looking down at where you two were connected.

Megumi couldn't take his eyes off the angel that was now seated on his lap. The sheen that had accumulated on your skin had you basking in an ethereal glow and he could've sworn you sprouted wings that fluttered so delicately. The moment you two connected, he knew he would worship you for eternity and more.

You started rolling your hips, coming off his lap slightly before taking all of him again. You held your bottom lip with your teeth as you started to speed up your pace, increasing the intensity of your rocks as well. "I need to hear you," Megumi said, in between moans. A slew of profanities slipped his lips as you released your bottom lip and a chorus of pleasure spilled from your mouth.

His hands began to wander your body, trailing from your hips to your inner thighs, then up again to your breasts. He moved on to your graceful arms that were wrapped around his shoulders. His hands found their way to your neck and he loosely closed his fingers around your neck, causing you to roll your eyes back.

Overwhelmed and nearing his own orgasm, Megumi wrapped his arms around your back and held you close, starting to thrust upward to meet your own rolls. A white fog began to seep into the back of Megumi's vision as he felt himself get close.

"I'm about to-" you started.

"Me, too," he finished, holding you impossibly tighter as both of your thrusts started to increase intensity. With an incoherent slur of your names, curses, and moans, you both finished simultaneously.

Megumi released broken whimpers as his own seed spilled into the condom and he felt your warmth trail down as well. He held you on his lap, keeping shallow ruts as you both rode out your highs. Your chest was rising intensely as you tried to catch your breath, not bothering to get off. "How long?" you asked.

"Since I met you."

(this is my first time writing in a LONG TIME, i really hope you enjoy and take care of yourselves !!)

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #megumi smut #jjk smut #aged up au #pottery

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pinchofhoney · 2 months

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perfectly flawed

benedict bridgerton x princess!reader

word count: 2.7k

warning: hurt without comfort, it might be suggestive but there's nothing inappropriate about it (friends with benefits but without any details)

summary: Finding love as a princess comes with its challenges, but becoming a mistress was never part of the plan.

a/n: two things; one, over these few months i forgot what it's like to write something that isn't an academic paper. two, in the process of writing it i forgot that i was supposed to write it based on a song. i suppose i'm already a different person than i was just the week ago when i asked you for your opinion, but regardless, feel welcome to read this,, thing<33

pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for

Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers

London, 18th April 1814

Dearest Readers,

The Season has barely begun, yet the glittering ballrooms of London are already abuzz with whispers and speculation. The cause of this fervour? None other than the captivating niece of Her Majesty. The fairy-like young lady, whose arrival in London coincided with the Season’s beginning, has ignited a flurry of theories.

Is she a princess, a countess, or perhaps a secret agent on a mission? The whispers echo through the salons, each speculation more imaginative than the last. Her regal bearing and the way she holds her fan hint at noble lineage, but her eyes hold secrets that defy easy classification. Could she be a pawn in a political game, or does her purpose lie closer to matters of the heart? Suitors line up, eager to claim her hand, but our debutante remains an unknown figure, casting doubt upon the intentions behind her smile.

Gentlemen of distinction have flocked to her side, vying for her attention. Lord Pembroke, the dashing heir to a vast estate, has been seen trailing her like a devoted puppy. The Duke of Ashford, brooding and aloof, has deigned to engage her in conversation. And then there is Captain Sinclair, whose sea-green eyes promise both danger and adventure.

At Lady Featherington's soirée, our young lady engaged in spirited conversation with none other than Miss Eloise Bridgerton. Their conversation delved into matters of politics—a most unconventional choice. Is our French princess a revolutionary sympathizer, or does she simply relish the thrill of intellectual sparring?

Rest assured, dear readers, that Lady Whistledown shall be your faithful guide through the twists and turns of this unfolding narrative. Prepare your fans and polish your silver spoons, for the London Season has just begun, and in the shadow of the Queen's niece, our world is poised to be turned upside down. Society must brace itself for a whirlwind of speculation, as we stand on the brink of a most intriguing chapter.

Yours Truly,

Lady Whistledown

‎

At the very core of the French Empire, you were raised as the epitome of grace and subtlety. With royal blood coursing through your veins, you were groomed to be the perfect lady, the jewel of the imperial court. Every step you took, every word you said, was a careful composition, painting the portrait of an eminent lineage.

From a young age, you were taught the art of etiquette, your days filled with lessons on poise, embroidery, and the subtle language of the fan. Your attire, always impeccable, was the evidence of your status and breeding. The world perceived you as the embodiment of perfection, a delicate blossom requiring protection from the harsh realities beyond the palace walls.

Yet, behind the facade of the devoted princess, a secreted truth blossomed. Beneath the tangled layers of silk and lace, your spirit, unyielding and untamed, stood in defiance of the expectations of courtly life. The allure of royal grandeur held little sway over you, and the burden of societal obligations felt like a daily donning of a suffocating corset.

The shimmering balls and elaborate rituals became stifling, making your heart to ache for those fleeting moments of genuine connection, uncontrolled laughter, and a subtle taste of the forbidden. Although French suitors eagerly fought for your attention and the allure of your family's wealth, your soul yearned for a partner who would daringly challenge the scripted norms, infusing romance with a breath of spontaneous authenticity.

And thus, to address your reluctance to accept the prearranged path, your mother came up with a plan. Sending you to the splendour of London under the watchful eye of the Queen, your beloved aunt, she hoped this change of scenery would guide you towards a dutiful marriage, in line with the expectations befitting your royal lineage. What slipped out of her seemingly perfect idea, however, was the playful nature of fate, particularly when guided by those who avoid predictability. So, your journey to the bustling heart of British metropolis grew with an outcome greatly different from your mother's expectations.

Your aunt, holding the most esteemed position in the United Kingdom, was admired for her wisdom and understanding. But the hours of lessons imparted to you from an early age, combined with your ability to conceal your rebellious nature from the public eye, had transformed you into a pretty great actress. And your performance, crafted over the years, was so convincing that even someone as sharp as the Queen herself failed to see through the carefully constructed act.

But perhaps, this time, you've got too close to the edge, because in the blink of an eye, you found yourself entangled in a situation that, if exposed, would not only scandalize all of England but also cast a shadow over France, where your family hopefully awaited news of your impending marriage.

And how did it all start?

The beginning of your tale remains in the memories of that fateful debutante ball, where a single innocent look changed the course of your luck. It was a brief moment, a shared exchange of glimpse between you and Benedict Bridgerton, that seemed to stretch time itself. In the glimmer of that ballroom, his bright eyes locked onto yours from across the room, and the world around you seemed to slow, as if giving space for something beyond a mere glance.

You had no idea what captivated you about the man who didn't really stand out among the other attendees, but most likely it was this quiet strength of his gaze. The gaze without the typical fascination you'd grown used to as a princess of the French Empire or the usual envy that flickered in the eyes of those desperate to secure a partner who determined their life's worth. Benedict's gaze was just different. It held no trace of the thought that you were merely a silly princess with a title. It carried the feeling that you were a masterpiece, a creation worthy of admiration. And it stirred a yearning within you, an insatiable thirst for freedom and authenticity that your heart had craved for so long.

A brief exchange of words with Benedict at the ball opened your eyes, making you believe that not every man who sought your company was doing so only for your family's wealth. As you danced together, his touch ignited a spark, a fleeting moment of intimacy that lingered long after the music faded into the night, and each stolen glance exchanged across the crowded ballroom carried the weight of unspoken desires. It felt as though the connection that binds soulmates was about to disappear when your paths crossed, signalling that you had, finally, found one another.

And so, it began. A secret affair that grew under the cloak of darkness, far from the prying eyes of nosy socialites waiting to catch a glimpse of scandal. In the hidden corners of London, where shadows whispered secrets and the night sky painted a canvas of stars, you found comfort in the arms of Benedict, a man not necessarily burdened by the weight of societal expectations, yet bound by his own hesitation to commit to anything beyond the present moment.

As the inappropriate meetings became routine, you assumed the role of a mistress, a position you never imagined yourself in, and the only rule you committed to follow during your secret dates was the lack of romantic feelings. Yet, despite your best efforts to maintain a facade of emotional distance, your heart had a way of defying logic. With each stolen moment spent in Benedict's company, you found yourself drawn deeper into the labyrinth of emotions, a labyrinth fraught with longing and desire. What started as a simple agreement, devoid of romantic sentiments, soon evolved into something far more sincere.

And it genuinely scared you.

You walked nervously around the place of your every rendezvous with Benedict, your fingers nervously picking the cuticles near your nail—a gesture unsuitable for the lady you were expected to be. But in the fuss of events that have happened in London so far, such a thing seemed a minor violation. Not only did the task of slipping unnoticed from the royal palace grew increasingly difficult, but the relentless fluttering in your heart at the mere thought of Bridgerton haunted your sleepless nights.

Throughout your life, you had yearned for a love different from the one you had observed in French society. And now, when the opportunity to live your fairy tale presented itself, reality proved to be just an unrequited feeling. While you were happy to see Benedict and yearned for his presence, it seemed he may only crave your body, not the depths of your soul.

You wanted today's meeting to be the last one, a meeting where nothing would happen. Or so you convinced yourself. The purpose was clear: to say goodbye to Benedict and to draw the curtain on a relationship built on fleeting glances and secret meetings. And even though probably the best choice would have been to just stop showing up on these encounters and withdrawing from public spaces where you might cross paths, you didn't want to just pretend that nothing had ever happened between you two. The social season was still around you, and avoiding the consequences of your actions would only complicate everything. Maybe not for Benedict, but for you, for sure.

And then, the silence broken every second by your anxious heartbeat was completely shattered by the sound of footsteps. Turning, you were met with the sight of Benedict Bridgerton approaching with firm strides, and his presence seemed to overshadow your plans to say goodbye when, for a moment, the world seemed to pause as you lost yourself in the intensity of his gaze.

Without a word, he wrapped his arms around your waist, and his touch sent pleasant shivers down your spine. The warmth of his embrace, coupled with the subtle brush of his breath against your skin, stirred conflicting emotions within you. Your heart quickened its pace, betraying the reason you came for this final meeting.

“I've been thinking about you all day,” Benedict whispered, and his breath caressed your delicate skin. But as much as the desire for intimacy flickered within, you held steadfast to the resolution you had set for this meeting.

With a gentle pull, you extricated yourself from his embrace, creating a safe distance between the two of you. The tingling sensation stayed on your skin, as a remaining echo of his touch that resonated through every fibre of your being. “We need to talk,” you said, your voice steadier than your racing heart. Benedict's eyes, once filled with a yearning, now searched yours for an answer to an as yet unspoken question.

“Talk?” he asked, his voice laced with a hint of playful intrigue as he arched one of his eyebrows with his signature smile dancing upon his lips. “About what?” he pressed, and with an air of casual confidence, he crossed his arms over his chest as he ambled a few steps to the side. “You're not going to tell me you've fallen in love, are you, princess?”

A nervous laugh bubbled up from within, escaping between your lips before you could hold it back. In an attempt to mirror Benedict's movements, you crossed your arms over your chest, your head shaking with feigned amusement. “Fall in love?” you repeated his words, adopting a tone of playful dismissal. “Don't be ridiculous, of course not,” you declared, adding a scoff at the end, as if to fortify the illusion of light-hearted banter. Hoping to shield your true feelings, now concealed beneath a facade of amusement, you met Benedict's gaze with a look of mock disbelief.

“We should end this relationship,” the words spilled from your lips, hoping your voice wouldn't betray how fast your heart was beating at that moment. “I did not come to London to become just another woman in the arms of the Viscount's son. If my mother were to find out, she'd blame herself for raising me poorly, and that's not the truth,” you began to rationalize, your words flowing as an attempt to justify the decision you had set before both of you. “I have obligations to fulfil, a path to follow, and I won't achieve that by sleeping with you.”

Benedict watched you in silence, not knowing if you were serious. His gaze bore into you, seeking answers within the depths of your eyes.

“Now you're the one being ridiculous,” he retorted, his tone carrying a gentle scolding. Leaning against a nearby counter, he looked at you with a combination of disbelief. “Since when have you cared so deeply about living up to your mother's expectations?”

“I've come to understand that my mother wants what she believes is best for me. As a princess of the French Empire, there are certain expectations I must meet, whether I appreciate them or not,” you said, closing the physical distance between yourself and Benedict. Self-control was what kept your hands from reaching out as you stopped just in front of him. “Think about what would happen if our secret were to be exposed. It would be the end for both of us, and the scandal would echo across the entire continent. The Queen herself would likely seek our demise.” You emphasized your words by pointing a finger at yourself. “I cannot ruin the honour of the entire royal family for a fleeting moment of pleasure.”

Benedict met your gaze with a silent acknowledgment of the truth in your words, yet beneath the veneer of understanding, a flicker of defiance danced in his eyes. “So, what are you saying? You're suddenly prepared to sacrifice your entire life for the expectations of your family that would see you married and bearing children with some man who would likely make you miserable?” he asked, a trace of frustration evident in his voice.

A moment of silence ensued as you fixed your gaze on Benedict. Finally, a disbelieving scoff escaped your lips, and you shook your head. Taking a few steps away, you placed your hands on your hips, a gesture mirroring the internal conflict within you. “Perhaps you haven't noticed yet, Benedict, but I am a woman. And in a world dictated by the whims of men, the role assigned to women is often reduced to that of an obedient wife, tasked with bringing some affluent man's heir into the world. It's not about what I want; it's about what everyone else around me expects.”

As Benedict made a move to step closer, a surge of urgency propelled you to speak before he could interject. “I should be going now. The palace servants are growing increasingly suspicious.”

Despite the assertiveness in your tone, Benedict, keen to the nuances of unspoken emotions, closed the physical gap between you, and his touch went through the delicate fabric of your glove as he gently took your hand. “We can at least end this in a better way,” he suggested, his voice tinged with a suggestive undertone as he met your gaze.

A resolute “No” escaped your lips, infused with an overt firmness born out of the fear that another moment in his gaze might make you give in to your heart's desires. You couldn't afford the risk of surrendering to the tempting pull of his lips once again, the very lips you yearned for. “That's all I wanted to tell you today,” you continued, gently squeezing his hand as if to punctuate your resolve. Purposefully avoiding his gaze, you added, “It's over, but know that every meeting with you has been a pleasure, Mr. Bridgerton. Goodbye.” Articulated so, you withdrew your hand from Benedict's grasp, leaving only the delicate glove in his hold.

With a swift spin, you turned away and your hurried footsteps carrying you out into the rain-soaked streets of London. A quick glance confirmed the absence of prying eyes, making you hasten your pace, putting distance between yourself and the building that housed your shattered heart. As you took each step, the words exchanged at that moment of parting reverberated in your mind. The relation between you and Benedict had ignited sparks of passion and left a sweet ache of longing. Now, the path ahead led you towards the marriage your family desired, a hopeful step to fill the void left by thoughts of Bridgerton.

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luna-writes-stuff · 1 year

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The types my favourite Supernatural characters would fall for:

Includes Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Charlie Bradbury, Castiel, Gabriel, Lucifer, Jack Kline, Crowley, and Rowena Macleod

————————————————————————

Sam Winchester:

Surprisingly, I don’t think Sam would go for a nerd, or a bamf. No, I think he loves the gentle people most. Those who - regardless of whether or not they know about monsters - see the good in everything. Those who share a positive mindset and manage to smile through every situation. Sam has been through hell and back, and he needs that place of solitude more than he cares to admit. Someone he can run to who he knows will make him feel better. Comforting arms, gentle words, reassuring kisses: he craves those things more than anything. And he will damn well do anything he can to keep you safe from all those things he fights against. God forbid you are the one to be faced with those evils. His face always seems to light up upon seeing you. He has this habit of walking to you and wrapping his arms around you, lifting you off the ground slightly. But when he is exhausted, or something goes wrong, he will saunter, place an arm around your waist and pull you in for a side hug, his face buried in your hair, simply grateful to be back home. With you. He needs those things and we all know it.

——

Dean Winchester:

Now, Dean is the exact person to fall head over heels for nerds. People who can kick ass? Sure. But someone who knows a lot of things about a lot of different subjects? Very attractive. We all know Dean is somewhat of a nerd himself - we’ve seen it on multiple occasions - but he buries it deep down. But once you start rambling about a book series you love, or a game you’re really into, 90% chance he’ll give it a go behind your back. When you find out, he always plays the “so I can talk along” card, but let’s be honest: he’s genuinely curious. It sounds so stupid and nerdy, he wants to know what it is all about. Opposite of him, you love books. Unfortunately, he used to take advantage of this. He’d let you do all the reading while he sits in the chair beside you. Doing nothing. But he’s learned to love research with you. Somehow, it is very calming to him. He tends to let go of his emotions easier when it’s the two of you nose deep in books. And that’s something so delicate to you, because you know how Dean can be during these times. It is a sign he trusts you a lot.

——

Charlie Bradbury:

Golden retriever girlfriend golden retriever girlfriend golden retriever girlfriend golden retr-. She has a lot of nerdy hobbies, if you will. But if you are willing to participate in them, she’ll do a double take. In her eyes, you had always been attractive, but she is awkward, so she pushed those feelings down. But now you are actually interested in playing a game of DnD with her? Maybe she is over analysing things, and you are just being polite. But one event turns into two, which turns into three, which turns into four. And when she announced your fifth shared event with Dean, he’s had enough. He is the one to actually encourage Charlie to ask you out. In his words “grow a pair and get it over with”. Very inspiring. So, that day, she starts stumbling over her words. Anxiety overload. And that’s when you interrupt her and ask her out for dinner. A dinner as in a dinner date. And after that, everything just happens on its own. You don’t care what Charlie comes up with, as long as she doesn’t have to do it alone. And for her to have someone to share her interests with, is all she could really ask for. It makes her so happy, it becomes difficult to contain. All in a good manner, of course.

——

Castiel:

You guys know Folklore/Evermore (you should)? Cas would definitely be attracted to someone with those vibes. Someone calm and gentle, very laid back, bookwise, and imaginative. Perhaps an author, or a musical s/o. Someone who outs expressions and emotions through art. The look of focus and dedication on your face is simply so entrancing. Oftentimes, he’ll simply sit beside you and stare at you while you work. At first, it was very distracting and made you grow all flustered, but you got used to the feeling. Now, instead of intruding, it is soothing. He’d met you through Sam and Dean, who you knew in your youth. They kept in touch. And then one day he shows up in the middle of your bedroom, claiming he would bring you somewhere safe. And just like that, you had found yourself in the bunker. The boys had been hunting a pack of werewolves with a grudge against the Winchesters. And they had found out about you. As the pair was out, you and Cas got to know each other fairly well, and things just took off from there. He claims your works are some of the best his father ever created, and that he can spend hours looking at them, or listening to them. And he will. He actually keeps an entire journal with ideas he finds throughout his life and offers it to you, hoping to help you somehow. It’s endearing.

——

Gabriel:

Gabriel has seen some stuff, okay. He has heard and seen stories happen throughout many lifetimes. And he’s always been a sucker for a good story. If you are an author or bookworm, he’d grow enthusiastic at the thought. Sure, he loves looks, but he has a soft spot in his heart to those who love stories as much as he does. That entire Casanova attitude drops when he’s around you. He’s gentle, careful, almost as if you are the most precious cargo in the world. You have to share your works with him, would you have them. He wants to know everything he can, and everything you are willing to share with him. Read any good books? Tell him all about it. In detail. Rant about it, he doesn’t care. Late nights are spent on either the couch or on the bed. His head is in your lap as you drown yourself in a good book, reading aloud to him as he hums occasionally, letting you know he is still reading. And in exchange, he’ll tell you the things he has seen (though, only the good things). His entire personality seems to change around you, and is something he is so grateful for.

——

Lucifer:

Lucifer isn’t usually the type to fall in love quickly. But it’s all about playful banter with him. You dare argue back to him? You’re lucky you’re cute. Your initial meeting was after the whole Amara debacle, and - suffice to say - you were pissed when you saw him. You full-out shouted in his face, pointing accusing fingers and yelling words you probably shouldn’t. And he just smiled. He’d probably say something along the lines of “you’re adorable when you yell”. Now, that pisses you off even more. It takes some before you finally have a good conversation with him. And that’s when you realise, he might not even be that bad of a guy. If anything, you are the one who argues back and forth with him because you know he loves it. It’s that playful and loving mocking, you know? He lives for it and you know it. That satisfied smirk? Those joyful eyes? That’s all admiration, darling. He is taken with you from your first shouting match at him. “Asshole” “Minx” “Mister ‘I like to make others feel bad because it makes me feel good’” “Who am I? ‘I like to pile up all my emotions and stuff them down somewhere until I explode’” “You insufferable prick” “Your insufferable prick ;)”

——

Jack Kline:

Jack loves a person who lives more in the present. He worries a lot. Like, an unnecessary amount. There’s a lot of things swirling in his mind constantly. He needs a significant other who will take him on walks in nature. Someone to take him shopping just for the fun of it. Spontaneous dinner dates, taking the car to a random destination, changing the rooms just because they can. Someone who is spontaneous enough to drag him with them constantly. He needs the distractions, whether he likes to admit it or not. But he goes with you willingly. Regardless of what you say or offer; his answer always seems to be ‘yes’. He has fallen for you the moment he set eyes on you. He didn’t even know what that feeling was at first. It led to a very uncomfortable conversation with Dean. He said things he probably shouldn’t have said to Jack. He feels inexplicably happy around you, as if all worries and care simply disintegrate in your presence. It’s so relaxing to him, he doesn’t find himself wanting to part with you anytime soon. He is smitten with you and everyone can see it.

——

Crowley:

Crowley appreciates honesty more than he lets on. Does he lie? Yes. Does he do it on a daily basis? Yes. Would he lie to you? Only if he had to to protect you from something. But he needs a break from that constant nagging from demons, or the calling of the Winchesters. He needs a place to rant and sigh. Someone who he could explain all his irritations towards. But he wants that person to actually form a conversation with that person. Not just be heard, but also receive caring words. Honest words for when he needs it most. But, besides those moments, he needs someone with somewhat of an intimidating atmosphere around them. This already comes naturally when seeing Crowley, but you need that neutral face, set in stone, safe for when it’s just the two of you. Someone who can help him with difficult decisions or orders. But also someone compassionate enough to slow him down at times. Ironically, the Winchesters really like you. Crowley hates it.

——

Rowena Macleod:

Rowena is a lady and she loves to be reminded of it: take her out on dates, buy her flowers, engulf her in affection and offer her compliments on the daily. She returns the gestures twice as much. I mean, she puts spells on you just to make sure you are okay. That spell she uses for herself so she cannot die easily? She will 10/10 do that on you too. Once she finds someone to settle for, someone she truly loves, she’ll do anything for that person. Your opinion and well-being comes first, always. It’s almost as poetic as swans; she can and will dedicate her life to you. The Winchesters didn’t even know about you until Lucifer got out to look for his son. Rowena hid at your place after she was burned. You were her one safe place and she did not hesitate to run to you. She is the person to put her life on the line if it meant getting you to safety. Hell, even Crowley was in it for as long as he could. And he did a great job, because - when he was still alive - the Winchesters never found out about you. Rowena is the type to be all domestic with someone: A home, a cat, cooking in kitchens - though she does love fancy restaurants. At first you wouldn’t really believe it, but she would love to get settled down somewhere. As long as it means she gets to keep her craft there as well.

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wowowwild · 8 days

Text

Ace's All Time Best Fic Rec List (AATBFRL) April 2024: Ace Attorney

It's been a 6 months since my last list so here we go again! (I specified Ace Attorney in case I start doing this for other fandoms.) I originally planned to have all the old recs here as well but the list was too long so here's a link to the previous list. These aren't necessarily in any particular order, but if you can think of a good way for me to organize them, please let me know for future lists!

P.S. Anything rated over T mentions that immediately for your browsing convenience.

Doing more self promotion this year, so check out my pinned post or fic tag (desktop only)!

London, 2021- 7 yg Wrightworth hint of Krisnix. Phoenix is presently in London with Edgeworth. Phoenix is presently knowing that he knows about Kristoph but doesn't want to acknowledge it bc Kristoph has been really good to him and Trucy. But that doesn't matter right now bc they're going to the theatre.

if you leave the light on- 7yg Wrightworth. Nothing can happen until it's over but something Keeps happening. Miles will wait as long as it takes and Trucy decides he's part of the family.

In The Dead Of Night- During the 7yg Edgeworth invites the Wrights to Europe. Trucy has a nightmare and 'Uncle Miles' comforts her.

Phoenix's List- After getting his badge back, Phoenix has some regrets and sets about fixing what he can.

Perfect- I actually found this on another fic rec list and I can see why it was their favorite. Set towards the end of the trial of Bridge to Turnabout. TW if you have memory issues, it might be a little hard to get through parts bc of all the mindfuckery. I have to be really vague here so as not to spoil it. (Wrightworth)

Eo Nomine- Klapollo fake marriage turned real marriage but ig that's what happen when you get fake married while being real in love.

the best you'll never have- Rated M for sex reasons. I love the tagline: "Someone else's wedding is something that can actually be so personal". It's a Blackmadhi complicated relationship, what relationship, they weren't actually dating but also...

Apollo and the Artist (1975 - Oil paint, wax crayon, pencil, collage)- Rated M for mentioned sex reasons. Apollo is not an art person. But to Klavier he is art... and also a person. They've known each other for 8 years and it's probably been coming for just as long. It was a long time coming.

darling i'd wait for you (even if you didn't ask me to)- Wrightworth fake date bc Edgeworth needs a plus one to a wedding for some guy, it's not really important. But the cake sucks.

A Knight in a Loud Red Suit- oh my god oh my god oh my god Klavier gets shot and Apollo stabs a guy. And also love confessions at the hospital. They could have me also if they wanted.

Written- Rated E for sex reasons. Edgeworth moonlights as a Steel Samurai fic writer, and due to it being an obvious coping mechanism for his life and feeling Maya finds out... and accidentally sends a fic to Phoenix who... finds out. Half of the smut is Edgeworth's own fanfic, so we get like... fanfic-ception. That doesn't really work with more than one syllable words, huh...

Lover Be Good to Me- Rated M for implied sex reasons. 5+1 klapollo wooing each other.

Love Love Love- Rated M for implied sex reasons. klapollo is messy in a good way and takes wayyyy too long to call themselves boyfriends. Set from middle of aa4 to past aa6.

delicate- Rated M for sex reasons. klapollo is messy in a bad way (long distance is hard) and they break up but it works out, I prommy. If you don't like angst you'll want to skip this one, though.

(i was) enchanted to meet you- klavquill! I love them, I need to read more fics with them. They meet at the Prosecutor gala for the first time and sparks fly. Actually, they were fireworks, but that's not important.

Process of Elimination- Rated M for sex reasons. One day I will read a fic where Blackmadhi is not complicated as hell. Can they ever talk about their feelings? Apparently I like this, though, bc I keep reading and recc'ing them. Um, Nahyuta is looking for a fuck buddy and by 'process of elimination' ends up deciding on Blackquill but whoops! Feelings.

feel your skin- Rated M for one boner. Klavier is infuriating AND wearing lipgloss and Apollo can't take it. Cue making out in the janitor's closet.

moribund- I keep thinking about this one so I need everyone else to read and think about it with me. Pre Gant busting, POV Lana has to help clean up his messes. This a comedy, mostly of errors.

chronophobia- StarrSkye (AngelxLana) Be forewarned, you are going to cry. Lana has done her time and is trying to find a way to reconnect with the most important people from her past.

Crash! Landing- Junithena, fantastic traumatized autistic representation, if I do say so myself as a traumatized autistic person. It is very sweet and Juniper is a real one. I need me one of those.

In Pursuit of Justice- This one is not yet complete, but I preemptively j'adore'd it. It's a klapollo. Sebastian is great. He says Apollo looks like a frog (accurate).

Witcheln Woes- Secret Santa klapollo and they are cute and Clay is alive and it is sooooo fluffy.

Samurai Swear- Maya making besties with Edgeworth! Maya and Phoenix being besties also! Dash of mutual pining wrigthworth.

Missing You/Missing Time- Ok, hear me out, yes, the mystical bullshit tag is accurate, and de-aging is a weird concept, but !!! It actually serves this story very well! It is a fanfic that feels like a fanfic, but sometimes you want that, you know? Not every fanfic needs to feel like Little Women. Established klapollo first I love yous.

#aatbfrl #ace attorney #klapollo #wrightworth #narumitsu #blackmadhi #junithena #starrskye #klavquill #ace attoney #krisnix #i'm not listing individual characters but there are other things in here besides ship fics

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slickfordain · 1 year

Note

Siyun baek w a nurse reader and due him having

Abandonment issues he fall for us bc we take care for him and ect. He is very clingy and flirty btw 🥹

Crying rn from this idea

Yandere-themed, nurse! Fem! reader, mentions of Jeongmin liking another boy and being in a relationship with that boy.

❝Alright, Siyun, you’ll be taken care of by another nurse. Be sure you don’t fall off the bed on accident, alright?❞

Bright lights, nurses and doctors chattering… It was a daily life of Siyun Baek staring at the ceiling while he was still on his bed;; boredly gazing above. What fun would there be if he can’t see Jeongmin? Nurses here are… Annoying…. They don’t even properly take care of him… It was upsetting.

Besides what’s so fun of having a new nurse? Wouldn’t the said nurse be the same way? Well… He couldn’t really do much, can he? With an injured body like this…. It’s most likely impossible. So, there he laid, his eyes glancing at the door that opened widely to reveal a girl with [Hair color] hair and [Skin color] skin. She was average, not much of a beauty everyone would’ve hoped for.

But did Siyun care? No. Actually he could care less about the beauty, as long as the girl takes her part in caring for him. He could just wait another few hours before sleeping to meet Jeongmin again. In any cases…

The nurse did care for him.

The girl was gentle, quiet, minding her own business. Siyun didn’t know wether the Gods have heard his prayers, or if he just has an immense luck… Perhaps this girl knew he was an idol and treated him with well respect? She could have faked her personality after all, couldn’t she?

No… Something was clearly off… She wasn’t faking it, YOU weren’t faking it. How so? Well, you did close the door to have a conversation with one of the nurses, and you were so sweet and delicate of how you wanted to take care of Siyun. He unfortunately hears that…

His eyes never truly left your figure, as he watches how you did your part of the taking.

Tending his wounds.

Softly asking if it’s okay and what’s not.

Questioning him if he feels tired or anything else…

You were… Utterly gentle. It made Siyun stunned. Don’t you know he’s a dangerous man? Don’t you know he could… Ruin your career? Why are you still here…? You’re doing all too much for him to process, he might not be able to collaborate with his brain right now.

But you didn’t seem to mind and continued on with your routine. Hah. You were…. Something. But Siyun didn’t want to break his feelings off from Jeongmin, after all… They’re… “Kind of” dating. Aren’t they? It sounds like it for Siyun at least, if it wasn’t for that wrenching boy taking her attention away…

Though, Siyun supposed this could be fun. Having a new friend. So he decided to have a small conversation with you. He had to know a lot about you… What were your interests? What’s your favorite thing to do? What food did you like? Are you dating? Single? Are you living with your parents or any human being?

All the thoughts that left through his mind, only came to one question formed from his lips;; hesitatingly asking, being shocked himself because he never hesitates. The question was: “Do you like playing video games?”. A simple question, nothing bad or anything… Not that he intended to be creepy anyway.

You took your time to think about the question, your tired half lidded eyes glancing at the laptop you had before yawning. Siyun stared like a hawk, observing everything about you… You were so cute when you were tired— Yet, you wanted to take care of him. That’s some true determination right there for the job of yours.

“Hmmm… I guess I like Chilla’s art games… Not sure if you’ve heard of it…”

Oh.

Shit.

Your voice was going to be the death of him. And you like horror games too? Oh please nurse have mercy on him. Siyun hates to admit it, but you were far off way more interesting than Jeongmin….. You’re even a girl who doesn’t take school anymore… Aren’t you? You look like a collage student at least…

Oh well he’ll know later what age you are.

The routine went on and on… And eventually, each night Jeongmin visits Siyun, the more “bored” he became with Jeongmin. Jeongmin didn’t want to overthink, not like last time, and thought nothing of it because she obviously didn’t like him like that. Right?

It… Does hurt Jeongmin’s soul though. Who is Siyun thinking about? Why isn’t he so expressive when she’s with him? He seems so normal with her… So much more normal that she couldn’t really predict anything… Something was clearly off. But the girl continued ranting about her bully and the boy she currently likes.

Siyun didn’t give a damn in the world and decided, hey? Why not hook Jeongmin up with that said boy? After all he has gotten a nurse that gave him a little too much attention. Something he has always wanted from Jeongmin… And his advices for Jeongmin actually ended up becoming true. Ah.

Well, I guess, first love wasn’t meant to be, but a second chance of loving someone else.

Everything changed. The story changed. The life changed.. It all changed because you ended up in the picture with Siyun, taking care of him that… Unfortunately, he became better. Unfortunately…… Yes. It was devastating that the boy is becoming healthier… Because of you. Siyun appreciates it but, who would he be when he’s alone? He couldn’t ever face off his old “friends” ever again.

So… To prevent that separation, Siyun became more flirty, more bolder than you’d quite expect. You couldn’t even process it for the beginning. At first, the compliments were simple. Calling you cute, sweet, hinting with small nicknames that would make you melt to the floor— Not quite literally of course.

Until it changed to: “Hey hot stuff let’s go on a date by the cafe.”

…

Yeah you had to blink a lot to take that full information inside of your head, to protest and understand what was happening. You didn’t know if you should take it seriously, or take it as a joke. You decided to take it as a joke.

“Oh, haha! Sure.”

How the hell did you even end up in the cafe?

You were so pretty, so so pretty for Siyun despite whatever you wore might be casual or average to you. But you did try your best and Siyun is in love with it. Ah. He might’ve been a little too attached to you… How did this end up from having a crush on a high school girl, to a hardworking nurse lady? Nobody knows.

But so far the date was going… Quite sweetly. You were getting the princess treatment that had you sobbing fully on the ground that Siyun panicked before realizing, you actually loved this.

I mean… How could you not? From the date, you got your favorite food, favorite drink, favorite games… It was all paid from Siyun’s card… So you were living an absolute rich life.

Hm? What do you mean what happened to the other workers? Oh, haha! Silly sweetie. Those workers who tried getting with you, or even hurt you, are all under control. Don’t worry too much about it and have your fun making friends as you pamper your new boyfriend. Okay?

After all, you asked for this.

I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG

#various x reader #various #yandere x reader #dreaming freedom x reader #dreaming freedom #dreaming freedom x you #siyun baek #siyun baek x reader

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hauntedhokage · 2 months

Text

check yes

Nanami Kento/F!Reader

summary: Nanami makes a request of Gojo to use his connections to arrange his marriage. He just wasn’t expecting to develop a crush on the person arranging his marriage.

word count: 4.2k

warnings: inexplicit references to sexual content

note: I had a very different intention for how this would flow but this is not it. oh well.

[ao3 link] [masterlist] [nanami masterlist] [ko-fi + commissions]

He was already starting to regret this. The house he was brought to was lavish, well maintained and belonging to an owner who took excellent care of the property. Someone from Gojo’s circles outside of Jujutsu Tech and not someone he’d rub elbows with commonly. In all fairness, they weren’t people Nanami wanted to rub elbows with either, but he felt it was natural to be nervous in a house this nice. Just how lucrative was this business anyway?

“Gojo, where did you bring me?”

“I said I’d bring you to the best in the world, didn’t I?” He did say that, but this was Satoru Gojo. There was always a joke or a loophole, Nanami learned to expect that. “This is where the best in the world lives and works - but only for her favorite clients.”

Just how many people had Gojo brought here that he’d become a favorite? Or was he really a favorite? Again, this was Satoru Gojo.

“When you said you had a proposition for me, I thought I’d finally get the big fish engaged.” The teasing tone pulled his attention to the staircase, and he rose an eyebrow at the sight of a woman who seemed vaguely familiar but he couldn’t place from where. “Who’s this?”

“Kento Nanami. A grade one sorcerer in need of a lady friend.”

“Why can’t you ever give me a proper introduction?” Nanami asks, following behind Gojo when his coworker moves to follow you into a room off to the side of the staircase.

You’re standing at a bookcase, opening and flipping through various notebooks until you find what you’re looking for, and Nanami notices that the notebook has Gojo’s name on the front of it when you turn to face them. Based on the size of the notebook and how worn it was, you do a lot of work with Gojo. Both men sit at the desk but you opt to continue standing as you flip through pages, and Nanami takes the time to observe how neat your office was. Art prints on the walls, a couple certificates, and two swords that he could feel the cursed energy radiating off of. Imbued with strong cursed energy, he’d assume you’d had a heavenly pact if he hadn’t already felt the fountain of energy you contained. It felt different from Gojo, it was warmer - much more comforting.

“Kento Nanami,” you mumble, writing in the notebook and only once barely glancing up from the page to see him watching you intently. “You’ve got a technique, right?”

“Seven-to-three. It’s a ratio technique.”

“So someone interested in math might be a plus. Height?”

And he’s forthcoming with the answers to your questions - sometimes having to correct Gojo’s incorrect answers - and he hates that Gojo is getting so much detailed information about himself that was so delicately tucked away. Things about him that would be used against him, as if Nanami asking Gojo about how to have his own marriage arranged wasn’t fuel enough for relentless teasing from the so-called strongest sorcerer.

“Is there a type of woman you’re most interested in?”

“Intelligent, patience, and being competent in a kitchen is a bonus but not required. I’m more than capable of cooking for myself.”

“You want a spouse who can keep herself occupied, I’m sure. Employed?”

“Unnecessary. I have an ample salary to care for two.”

“Appearance?”

“That’s irrelevant to me. What is most important is what lies beneath.”

That had you looking up from the notebook, pen halting only for a moment before you recovered and crossed something out before writing something else. Gojo was shocked enough for the entire room, you didn’t have anything else to add.

It’s only another twenty minutes and a couple pictures with requests for others where he looks less constipated before you’re walking them to the front door of your home while explaining next steps to Nanami. He’d expect to hear from you in a couple days with a date and time to look at profiles of prospective brides that you pulled based on the information you got from him today and estimated compatibility scores.

Gojo is left with a demand that he deal with the Zen’in clan who had been in contact with you regarding Megumi’s future plans for marriage that were none of your business. It seemed you had the same opinion of the clan that Gojo did, which wasn’t surprising but was definitely interesting. He'd have expected your work to not interfere with the dealings of the clans, but he supposed the jujutsu world was always dancing around the wishes of the clans.

“How do you know her?”

“We worked together a few years back on a special grade that had popped up while she was in Tokyo running errands. She doesn’t do a lot of sorcerer work, but she’ll gear up if her services are requested. Mostly she gets paid good money to arrange marriages for people like us.”

“But not you?”

“I’m too busy for a spouse. You’ve got strict hours and a real want for someone to come home to, better suited for marriage than someone like me.”

Everyone eventually resigned themselves to their fate. Maybe in a few years Gojo will change his mind, slow down in his work and let himself accept what he knew they all wanted deep down: a way to escape from the harsh reality that was the world of jujutsu. For now, that wasn’t an issue for Nanami to make his own so he wasn’t going to allow this to slide for the time being.

“Y’know I’m sure Shoko would let you take her out on a date - for practice, of course.”

Nanami pretends to not have heard the suggestion. Shoko had much more important things to do than go on pretend dates with him.

Two weeks pass before he’s sitting in your home again. This time not in your office, but outside on your back patio enjoying a tea and light snacks while going through the stacks of folders produced with potential marriage candidates. You preferred pen and paper to digital record keeping, printed photographs on glossy paper or the occasional polaroid carefully fastened to the folder with a paperclip. Some records were so extensive that an actual binder was required rather than just a folder, whether that was by your design or the client’s he’d yet to figure out.

There were two loaded binders, three thick folders, and two thinner ones stacked on the side of the table, and he dreads needing to look through them all. Arranging a marriage seemed much more simple when he floated the idea past Gojo - it didn’t feel like he’d need to be so involved. He could learn to live with and care for anybody as would be his responsibility as a husband - the responsibility he was signing up for by requesting a marriage to be arranged.

The seven potential candidates you’d selected had the highest compatibility scores from your own assessment of his wants and theirs. All in his preferred age range, some with their natural hair color others with artificially colored hair, even their sexual experience was provided in some detail.

“Your research is extensive,” he comments while reading through the first file. Her name was Yui, first born daughter to a farmer and his wife (who was a former sorcerer) with three younger siblings but no training in jujutsu but the ability to see curses and potential for a cursed technique to have been inherited. Artificial blonde, went to university to study journalism and writes for a gossip magazine with freelance projects on the side.

Key consideration: terrified of the sight of blood. That note has him closing the folder and setting it to the side to create his own discard pile.

“The world of jujutsu is a picky and particular one. The clans go off of technique, fertility, and strength which makes it easy. Those who don’t have clans arranging or go outside of their clans want much more freedom of choice, and things to choose from.”

“Has someone really turned down a candidate because of their sexual experience?”

“More often than you’d think, in both directions. Why didn’t you like Yui?”

“Being afraid of the sight of blood doesn’t seem to fit right with my profession.” As expected, you write that down in your notebook while your free hand idly stirs your tea.

“Reckless in combat?”

“No, but I’m not untouchable like Gojo is. Accidents happen, I’d hate to spur my spouse into terror because a bloody shirt was in the washing machine.

You nod, this time lifting one of the small finger sandwiches to your lips as you continue to write. He looks into the next folder, surprised to see this candidate was a sorcerer from overseas looking to move to Tokyo. Céline from Paris, grade two sorcerer without a cursed technique. Her mission record was attached, and Nanami raises an eyebrow at the fact that she’d never completed a mission on her own. That was intriguing, and the notes that followed regarding the reason for denial to be promoted to grade one made it clear why she’d never finished a mission on her own: she was reckless and endangered herself and her colleagues on every mission.

With moving to Tokyo, she doesn’t want to give up being a sorcerer. Ideally would continue down this career path until plans to have children were made and solidified.

With that, Nanami moves Céline into the discard pile as well. He had no interest in a spouse who was recklessly endangering herself and planned on continuing to do so until pregnancy forced her to stop. He wasn’t even certain that he wanted children, and it seemed like she did eventually which was not going to be satisfactory for her.

The other five files meet the same fate, neatly stacked on the other side of the table while you continue to take notes. You’d added about three more pages on notes while watching him read through files and provide commentary when asked, which showed just how observant you were. This was a profession you excelled at for a reason.

“Are you normally this picky, Mr. Nanami? This is just a review to see if you want to meet these ladies, not propose on the spot.”

“I don’t want to waste their time or my own if I don’t believe there will be a connection after the meeting. If I don't see a future, why bother?”

“Should I just let you read through my entire filing cabinet on prospects to see if there’s anyone you like?” You were teasing him, that was clear and made him feel just a bit better about shutting down all of your preliminary choices. But perhaps you expected him to do that, if the additional set of four folders you pulled from the bag sitting on your left meant anything. You truly watched everything that he did.

“That shouldn’t be necessary. You spent the last hour psychoanalyzing me with intentionally incompatible brides for a reason, did you not?”

“Not intentionally incompatible, just incidentally. Everyone is open to options until they have the options, that’s where the pickiness sets in. Everyone has lines they’d prefer not to cross, I needed to find yours to better asses potential partners.”

“What are mine?”

“The most basic one is consistent mutual inconvenience or concern”

You go on to explain how that spiderwebs into a few other different lines that created his personal boundaries for selecting a wife (and, really, any personal acquaintance). Consistent mutual inconvenience, like him needing to hide a key risk of his profession for a wife terrified of the sight of blood while the wife would need to constantly emotionally prepare for the day where she made contact with the sight of his blood, was not a strong foundation for a relationship. Arranged or not, there needed to be levels of trust and comfortability that could be built, and that comfortability would never be built upon a foundation of fear. That mutual inconvenience webbed into concern, like always being worried that your spouse’s reckless behavior would get themselves killed but they have no desire to quit their job or change their ways would just create exhaustion in the relationship and that wouldn’t be healthy for the marriage.

If asked, he was definitely reading the words on the paper in his hands and not too captivated by every word that left your mouth to even remember the woman’s name on the page. He had a type, and you were sitting right across from him. It was a shame you weren’t an option.

A month passes and you’ve finally gotten him to agree to meet with a prospective bride. He had a condition and that was that he got to debrief with you immediately after to share his thoughts and feelings, and you agreed to it without hesitation. Of course Gojo was paying for every minute of your time that Nanami used, so agreeing was a natural decision, but part of him hoped it was a desire to spend that time with him and hear his opinions as more than just a client.

The prospective bride was named Sayuri. She, like you, had graduated from Jujutsu High’s Kyoto campus and she also, like you, had retired from working as a sorcerer. But with a full stop due to an injury that rendered her cursed technique inoperable, leaving random missions off the table for her own health.

He appreciated a woman who knew her physical limits, and you looked so proud when he told her that to her face. He was trying, and he was glad that you saw that too, but he knew he’d take the wind out of your sails when he told you that he didn’t see himself with Sayuri for more than just a couple dinner dates. She was nice, truly a lovely girl, but her opinions on teenagers were far too negative while he greatly enjoyed the time he got to spend with the Jujutsu High students (even if they weren’t aware that he enjoyed being around them). As much as they could irritate him, he learned a lot from them but that was a notion that Sayuri just couldn’t accept. He couldn’t accept her as a bride if she would be uncomfortable with Yuuji or Maki stopping in for a visit every now and again.

Nanami is only slightly disappointed in himself when you deflate at the news. But you also seem more determined to find him a bride, and that brings him relief that you didn’t think he was a lost cause just yet. He would hate to feel as though he’d wasted your time, that was clearly a precious commodity to yourself and other people who desired your services.

“It’s almost like you prefer spending time with me rather than any other women,” you comment off-handedly before leaving, something he knew you meant that as a tease but he dared not tell you it was an accurate assumption. He wanted you to want to continue to be around him, this crush of his would go away once he’d found a suitable arrangement.

You start to consume his thoughts, the worst part is that he’d been traveling for missions so he hadn’t seen you in weeks. Every day he’s checking his phone for a message from you, his email for new scans of your notes on a prospective spouse, any indication that you were thinking of him just as much as he was thinking of you. It was disgustingly unprofessional to be so distracted, especially when you were simply doing your job that Gojo was paying you to do. To think that you had any sort of feeling for him would be presumptuous, preposterous, and downright idiotic.

But you never said anything about having a partner of your own, and that gives him a hope that he’s not sure he should have. How could he maintain an air of professionalism when in the back of his head he’s wondering if there was a flavor attached to the glossy shine decorating your lips?

He lets himself get distracted during his first mission back in Tokyo. The curse wasn’t even a particularly strong one, just annoying, and he let himself get distracted by his phone vibrating in his pocket. He usually put his phone on do-not-disturb when he was on a mission, this time he did not and he had a growing red stain on his shirt to pay for that error. If it was just a text, that’d be one thing. Unfortunately for him it was a call, the vibration strong against his thigh and enough to skew his focus long enough to miss the way the curse lunged at him. Poor performance on his part.

He was just going to go home after this, enjoy a shower in his own personal bathroom and then check in at the school in the morning. Sleep in his own bed and enjoy being home after six weeks of hotels (as nice as they were).

Then he checked his phone, listened to the voicemail that you had left and how excited you sounded to have found the one for him.

He tells the cab driver your address before he even considers going to the school to see Shoko to have his injury treated. He’d rather be dead in an alley than be in the school infirmary for the night, the concrete was definitely going to be more comfortable than the bed there.

He doesn’t even know what he’d say to you when he knocks on your door. He doesn’t know how you’d react, but he feels better when you open the door and bring him in with just one look at his disheveled state and bring him up the stairs. In all the visits he’d made to your home, this was the first time he’d been up the stairs.

“What happened?” you ask softly once he’s in your master bathroom, and he sighs as he sits on your toilet per your instruction. The first aid kit is pulled from under the sink, but his attempt to unbutton his shirt is thwarted when you start to do it for him. “Talk to me, Kento.”

“I got distracted while fighting a curse.”

“Distracted? That doesn’t sound like you.” You sound worried, and that makes him feel better about being here. Less imposing, at the very least. “But I guess you’ve been going nonstop for a few weeks. Must’ve been a big distraction.”

“I was only momentarily distracted. A mistake that won’t be repeated.”

“I’m sure,” you murmur, your hands carefully cleaning around the wound in his side. “Y’know, Shoko would be a better doctor considering she actually is one.”

“I can leave, if-”

“No.” Your hand on his chest stops him from trying to stand. “I’d rather you stay, honestly.”

He relaxes at that, letting his head fall back against the wall with his eyes closed as you continue to work. It wasn’t life threatening by any means, and you were being very gentle with him as you worked to clean up the blood so you could better look at it.

“Why me, though?”

“I didn’t think much about it. I considered where I felt safe, and you were the first to come to mind.” It’s a vulnerable answer, an honesty he wasn’t prepared to share so openly but you were safe. Always had been. Even with your analyzing gaze and the way you managed to carefully pick apart his guarded exterior, you still felt safe for him. But the way your brow furrowed when he looked down raised a concern. “Is there an issue?”

“No, no issue. You bled a fair amount but that made it look worse than it actually is. You’ll survive until the morning, and Shoko can patch you up properly then.” And he feels the gauze on his skin, your hands applying decent pressure to keep it in place as you start to wrap the bandaging to keep the gauze in place throughout the night. Then your touch is gone, and he sees you standing while carefully removing the gloves that were now stained with his blood. “Pain meds?”

“Please.” He’s letting you pull him to stand, his shirt is now ruined and not worth keeping on but it’d be rude for him to walk around without some sort of covering. This feels indecent when his relationship with you was supposed to be strictly business, like he’s crossing a boundary that wasn’t meant to be crossed - a boundary that he supposed he had crossed when he came to you instead of calling Shoko. He didn’t even know if you had medical training aside from the basic first aid all sorcerers are taught.

“I make you feel safe, huh?”

“You know almost everything about me. More than any of my colleagues who I trust with my life know.” He hears your thoughtful hum in response to his statement, watching as your fingers carefully roll one of the buttons of his undone shirt between them. “So, yes, I feel very safe with you. I enjoy the time we spend together.”

And he doesn’t register how it happens, all he knows is that his lips are on yours and your hands are now gripping his shirt to keep him close while his hands hold your face close to his. Your legs hit the footboard of your bed frame, something that halts him for only a moment before he’s carefully helping you over it while your hands push his shirt off of his shoulders.

This was not what he had intended when he showed up on your doorstep unannounced and bleeding, but now he knows your lips taste like strawberry and the flavor of your gloss lingers long after you’ve removed it. He knows that you’re not afraid of taking what it is you need, that you had wanted him just as badly as he had wanted you.

But after he’s come down from the moment he lets his brain take over and his anxiety flares. You were supposed to be finding him a suitable spouse, yet here he was in your bed - how could that possibly end? Would you want to help him after he crossed this boundary? Did you want him to stay here with you tonight? Probably not, even if you were sleeping soundly with your head on his arm. So he pulls himself away from you as soon as he’s sure you won’t wake, knowing that he caught sight of a guest bedroom down the hall close to the stairs. He’d sleep there, then make breakfast in the morning. Simple recovery of a situation that he hoped wouldn’t crumble in his hands.

If you’d been upset by his choice not to sleep in your bed, you don’t show it. The following morning you only greet him with breakfast and let him know that you enjoyed yourself and hoped that he did the same. He left your home to go back to the Jujutsu Tech campus with a kiss on the cheek and mug of coffee to go, with a promise that he'd be in touch to properly go over the notes you'd sent him.

Then it was back to business.

Only that business involved more overnight visits, ones where he stayed by your side through the night and went through the motions of the morning with you. Breakfast and coffee, then you both were off to perform your respective jobs. It was odd, sleeping with you then the next day receiving texts about potential candidates. Part of him admired your ability to maintain sight of the goal, the other part wished you’d tell him that you wanted to be with him instead of some random person seeking a husband. He’d miss the intimacy you shared when he finally settled for someone he could live with for the rest of his life - when that would happen, he wasn’t sure.

He just knew it wouldn’t be any time soon. He didn’t want to settle just yet.

“I found another candidate for you to review,” you mention one evening, your fingers lazily carding through his hair as he relaxes against you. A disinterested hum is all he can bother to respond with, knowing that he was going to find a reason to reject the proposition. He knew what he wanted, and you unfortunately weren’t an option.

“Would you marry me, Kento?” He’s surprised to hear you ask such a question, lifting his head from where it rests on your chest to see you watching him with a soft smile. “I’m running out of candidates for you to turn down.”

“I didn’t think you were an option,” he murmurs, watching as your shoulders shrug against the mattress. Clearly you didn’t realize that you were an option either until recently.

“Originally I wasn’t. But now we’ve had sex multiple times, I’m not sure either of us would move on easily.”

Sound logic, he knew he wouldn’t be able to move on at all. Not for months, at a minimum - he really liked you a lot. “Besides, you’re very picky.”

“Do you want to be my wife?”

“I think we would have a very comfortable marriage. Mutually beneficial in many ways. The major bonus is we already like each other.” Again, your logic is sound and he knows that you know that. Why wouldn’t he want to marry you? This was exactly what he was hoping for and thought was unattainable. But you’re smiling up at him, your hand gently caressing his cheek as he watches you for any sign of uncertainty and finds none. “Do you want to be my husband?”

And he knows that he’d be honored to be your husband. You could take care of yourself, but would let him take care of you when needed. You were intelligent, independent, able to act when needed, and understood his work as a sorcerer intimately so you didn’t fear the potential consequences of his career.

You truly would be the perfect wife, the only downside was that he’d have to thank Gojo for bringing him into your life.

#nanami kento x reader #nanami kento jjk #nanami kento fanfic #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento x you #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami imagine #nanami kento imagine #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fanfic

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abiiors · 10 months

Text

haunt // bed - pt. 1

a/n: a while ago, i wrote do me a favour after which i said, i would write a matty hate sex fic. well this is it (and perhaps a bit more than anyone asked for), read dmaf again if you want to refresh your memory, or don't. there are 3 parts to this + an epilogue. i also know very little about western weddings, so ignore the inconsistencies lol.

a note about the banner: the photo in it is only meant to describe the dress, not the race, body type, hair colour, etc of the reader <3

minors dni! part 2, part 3

wc: 2.7k

see u in an hour xx

charli’s text flashes on your screen, illuminating a small corner of the dimly lit room. it’s not that late in the day, in fact, it’s quite early—only about 10 am. you’re supposed to be hurrying around the room, checking for any last minutes things you might have forgotten. you won’t be back home until tomorrow after all. yet here you are, surrounded by the things that should have been packed in your bag last night.

the dress, laid out on your bed, feels like a weapon; red silk slippery enough to slide between your fingers effortlessly. “a wily vixen”, that’s what charli had called you when she'd seen you in it for the first. the thought of that day—bridesmaids dress shopping with four other excited girls—brings a small smile to your face.

everything laid out here is a weapon really; your four-inch, sharp heels, the delicate and dainty diamond jewellery, the makeup you plan on wearing—blood red lipstick, a perfect shade match for the dress. an expensive crystal bottle of the same perfume you have used for the past six years.

familiarity breeds contempt. familiarity is also an excellent knife to twist in someone’s gut. because everything here, today, is meant to maul and wound him.

see you in an hour babe, love you. you write back and chuck your phone onto the pillow where it bounces a little before nestling between its creases. you stare at it, maybe your body still yearns for a call that will never come? no more can’t wait to see you up there. no more cheeky selfies in a state of half-undress. just a smooth, black screen.

right then…time to get going.

charli has been flittering around the room for the last twenty minutes. her white dress fits her like a dream, her makeup is a work of art and her excitement about marrying george is so palpable in the room that at least one person squeals or sighs every five minutes.

most importantly, the smile on her face is a permanent fixture. and every time you look at it, a warmth spreads through your body. she deserves this—the happiness, the celebration. the happily ever after. no matter how your marriage ended, you won’t stop believing in it for her.

“so!” charli walks over to you and takes your hand, “how do i look?” she twirls and the dress swirls around her, the tiny crystals catching light and making her shimmer like starlight.

you laugh in response, “like george is about to go into cardiac arrest the minute he sees you!”

the pair of you giggles like teenagers. you can so clearly picture it before it has even happened. the joy and love that will shine on george’s face; his excitement, quiet yet infectious and for a brief moment you’re transported back to your own walk down the aisle.

small, unsure steps, worried about falling flat on your face in those tall heels, but all of that had evaporated the second you had seen his tear-stained face. and the bright smile that had bloomed a split second later.

but that’s how long the ache lasts; a brief moment. it’s bad enough that you’re going to have to be civil to him, there’s no need to make it worse with unnecessary nostalgia.

besides, there’s her to think about.

she in question is a beautiful, leggy blonde who is at least seven years younger than him. not that you’ve seen either of them today…yet. it’s only because you and charli got drunk one night, four weeks before the wedding, and she felt bad about keeping it from you that matty had a plus one. and that’s how you fell into the rabbit hole of scrolling through this girl’s Instagram profile at two in the morning.

if you thought you knew his type, you would be dead wrong. physically speaking, she is the exact opposite of you—someone who looks like they belong on a giant billboard in times square, perfect and stunning. then there’s the more questionable aspects of her feed. the flat tummy tea adverts and the paid partnerships with various brands that are always under fire for being unethical.

but that’s the ugly green monster rearing its head. it’s not like you aren’t known for indulging in vanity every once in a while.

she will be here today, no doubt, clinging onto his arm like a decorative little thing—woah, where did that snide thought come from?! you shake your head to yourself, at least a little embarrassed. he’s not even here yet and he’s already screwing with your head; pushing you back into old jealous and insecure habits. someone clears their throat.

nora, one of charli’s longtime friends, has her champagne glass raised. a toast. she takes a deep, shaky breath and smiles tearily at the room, about to give her sentimental speech when a resounding knock echoes and cuts her off before she has even begun.

five heads turn to the locked door and you happen to be standing closest to it.

‘i’ll get it,’ you tell no one in particular, hand already on the doorknob. the possibility of it hits you way too late.

it hits you right as his clean-shaven face comes into view.

it has been ten months. ten months since you gave up the last name healy and changed it back to your maiden name on all your official documents. it had felt like a form of catharsis, getting it done with such urgency back then. but you also remember the days when you would be asked to state your full name and stagger a little at how odd it sounded to no longer have healy in it. to not have a ring around your finger to fidget with. no one to hold you at night.

but back to now. back to here.

it’s not hard to see that he has changed a lot in the last ten months. he looks serious; not necessarily sombre—it’s his best friend’s wedding, after all—but mature, more grown up. the grey in his hair, in his beautiful curls, is now much more prominent. the crow's feet around his eyes are more or less the same (and it sends a small pang through you; has he not laughed recently?). his mouth holds—held—a faint smile that’s already slipping, already morphing into a thin line. the exact same face that you woke up to for years now turning into a mask of carefully arranged neutrality.

“charli,” he whispers roughly and then clears his throat, “here to check on charli.” and just like that, he steps past you and into the room where he’s engulfed into a hug by the bride (and slapped on the bum by another bridesmaid but you ignore that for now).

pointedly, you also ignore the sting that comes with being sidestepped so easily.

you stand by the door, back still to the room, for a second longer than necessary. it doesn’t even register that you’re letting the warm spring air in. is this really how little seeing you impacts him? it must have. because if he’s here then she is also here.

“tell him i’m fine!” charli’s voice brings you out of your thoughts, making you shut the door softly. “and tell him not to meddle, i’ve got my girls.” she looks at you over his shoulder and throws a wink. your gut tells you it’s nothing but a charity gesture, just trying to gauge the tension between you two. guilt gnaws at you—she shouldn’t have to play peacemaker, she shouldn’t have to worry about two adults behaving themselves.

“only doing my duty here,” matty raises his hands defensively, “keeping the groom happy.”

the rest of them tease and taunt him playfully while you take the time to admire—no, simply look at—his suit. it’s nowhere near as nice as the one he wore at your wedding, of course not. but it’s beautifully made, tailored to fit and accentuate his muscles. and there are a lot of those now, that much is evident from the way his sleeves stretch over his biceps. he fills it out nicely, not that he didn’t before, but something about the fabric straining across his arms does funny things to your stomach. funny, you thought that feeling was a thing of the past. then there’s the navy trousers that compliment his backside rather nicely.

there’s a part of you that is appalled at all these observations you have been making but there’s another part—bored and much more matter-of-fact—that reminds you that there’s nothing under those clothes that you haven’t seen, touched, licked or sucked before. there’s nothing new. he is still the same as he was before, just now with a few extra muscles.

“go away,” charli’s nudges him gently toward the door. “we’ll be out in fifteen.”

he hugs her just before he leaves, dropping a friendly kiss on her head. after everything you’re glad no one had to pick sides in the divorce. you’ve at least managed to hold the friend group together, even though the same can’t be said about your marriage.

matty leaves just like he came in, sidestepping you and making sure he’s looking straight ahead. there’s a brief second however—a fraction of one really—when he slows down and breathes in. his adam’s apple bobs roughly and his face struggles to hold the blank expression.

but it must have just been you projecting right? no one can go through that much in half a second.

“there you are, darling,” denise walks in on you mid-smoke. “i was looking for you.”

she’s in a beautiful pink dress that brushes her knees and makes her look ten years younger than she is. you blush slightly at having been caught smoking; it’s a recent habit, not one she would be aware of, and you don’t want her to judge you for it.

“denise,” you try to hide the half-smoked cigarette, “you look beautiful.”

she pointedly looks at your hand and laughs. “my son does enough of that.” then she straightens up, as if bringing matty so casually into this conversation was a mistake. you suppose it was—it does make your heart skip a beat.

“i just wanted to say hi, darling,” she adds hastily, “and look at you…” her eyes scan you from head to toe, linger on your face for just a second before she smiles again. “simply stunning.”

“thank you.” your voice comes out in a whisper, fighting to get past the lump in your throat. you didn’t think there would ever come a day when she would have to so formally stop by to ‘say hi’. yet here you are, almost a pair of estranged mother and daughter.

“i don’t…” she starts but shakes her head minutely, “i don’t want to condescend you. but are you okay? with matty bringing that girl, i mean.”

that piques your interest. “that girl?” you stifle a little giggle. “sounds like you don’t like her…”

denise shrugs, leaning against the wall and looking at the bushes in front of her. “she’s okay, i guess.” then she takes a bit to smooth out her dress. “but she’s not you.”

“dearly beloved…” the officiant, charli’s godfather, begins, which you tune out instantly. weddings are lovely and romantic, wedding speeches are dull and boring. besides, like it or not, something else has captured your attention.

you stand behind the bride, holding the ring she’s supposed to put on george later. and right in front of you stands matty, holding the matching platinum band in his hands. adam and ross stand behind him, smiling and occasionally laughing along with the rest of the guests. you tried it at first too, to only keep your attention on george—who looks very handsome and beams wide the whole time—but it’s impossible when you feel your ex’s piercing stare right on you.

you would have thought he would stick to the little ignoring act from before. instead, his eyes have lingered on you from the second you walked down the aisle as a part of the processional. tracking your every move, every small step. frankly, it’s insulting. does he think you would ruin the wedding as some sort of diabolical revenge against him? you scoff internally; of course, he would think such self-centred thoughts, it’s just all about him, after all.

you raise an eyebrow at him. what’s your fucking problem?

he smiles back; an arrogant curl of his mouth that turns his face from sweet to insufferable within a matter of seconds. you, his eyes seem to say, you’re my problem.

well too fucking bad then…

you huff and look away to the side at the guests. it’s only about fifty people from both sides. just family and friends—a lovely kind of intimacy the couple had asked for. you smile at george’s parents who sit in the first row. his mum dabs at her eyes, clearly overwhelmed with emotion. and behind them sit denise and tim. right next to her.

she’s exactly what she looks like on her instagram page. dainty and beautiful, picture-perfect elegant. her whole face looks like it could be hand-crafted by the gods (or very expensive surgeons according to the snide little voice in your brain) but her eyes are bone dry.

that’s because she doesn’t belong here, your brain chimes in. not among your friends and your family.

well, ex-family…

her name doesn’t immediately come to the forefront of your mind. all you know from that drunken night is how charli made you block all her socials at the end of it. as if you were going to go back to them again and again. as if you have no purpose in life other than obsessing over your ex’s new girl.

she sighs, then looks out the window with a bored expression on her face and you have to focus your attention back to the bride and groom before you do something drastic. not before you catch matty looking at you from the corner of your eye, however.

not just at you…he’s staring at the plunging neckline of your dress that shows off your cleavage wonderfully. with the big window to your side, it’s so clear to see every little detail of his face—his teeth gnawing on his bottom lip (he’s unaware that he’s doing it. you know that for a fact). his pupils that are blown out wide, making almost the entirety of his eyes look black; dark and hungry.

your mouth curls into a smirk, arrogant enough to mirror his own. well, this is interesting.

matty’s mouth presses into a thin line. even now, after you caught him so red-handed, he’s trying to deny it. but you don’t miss his ears turning the telltale shade of pink.

“...and i promise to love you for the rest of my life.” george’s voice breaks on the last word, the tears flowing freely but he smiles through all of it. in front of you, charli’s shoulders shake. they haven’t even put the rings on each other yet and they’re already emotional. it makes you laugh, and surprising, you feel the tears escaping your eyes.

i promise to love you for the rest of my life. that’s what matty had said too. i promise to dance in the kitchen with you and do all my silly little romantic gestures. i promise to never let you fall. i promise, i promise, i promise…

so many of them unkept, so many of them just pretty words spoken on a perfect day in front of a tearful audience.

“i do!” charli squeals before the question is even finished, making everyone laugh. a wet chuckle escapes you at her infectious joy.

“do you, george, take charli to be your lawfully wedded wife?” the officiant asks.

“i do,” he says patiently and charli sticks her tongue out at him.

you sincerely hope they stay like this for the rest of their lives—polar opposites who complete each other. not people who are so similar, they don’t know how to exist in the same space anymore.

matty smiles, first at the couple and then, shockingly, at you. husband and wife he mouths.

jarringly still, you smile back.

i would love to hear what you think 🤭

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where-does-the-heart-lie · 8 months

Note

Can we have a deeper analysis in Sabo's shape language study please? It's amazing how you make him give different vibes with just his hair and I like to understand how does that work.

Oh. I'm SO glad you asked.

(The Post In Question)

Okay so this isnt the first post ive made about shape language,

Here are the others:

ASL Shapes Strawhats Shapes

i'm just gonna copy and paste the definition i have for shape language from those posts here so i dont have to write it all again.

Shape language is defined as “a concept used in art and animation to communicate meaning based on shapes we are familiar with” (source). This concept uses circles, triangles, and squares to convey an idea of the “personality” of the design without using any words.

In designs, using circles and rounded edges in your silhouette and detailing gives the design a soft and squishy look. They tend to be harmless, approachable, or changeable.

Designs using squares gives the design a solid, sturdy, and strong look. They are supportive, reliable, and inflexible

Lastly, triangle designs are sharp and directional. They are dynamic, dangerous, and unpredictable.

That's base level but here's more in depth description of each design for ya:

this one is up first!

You may notice how in this design, his hair isnt in large clumps like the others are. His hair falls delicately and waves gently with little to no hard angles.

In this design, i was trying to convey the idea of "he wasnt born to fight, but he's molded himself into someone who will." I tried to depict that by making his hair all light and feathery, his facial features soft and rounded, but also showing how he's modified his body in a pointy and aggressive way.

I didn't want to only go hard edges with the piercings though because much like he's strayed from his mold of being delicate, he's also strayed from his mold of being a cruel noble. so some of his piercings are rings, AKA: Circles.

You may also notice the different in how I've drawn the collars of these guys. the collar of this Babo's black coat falls softly, and its' arc is rounded. The shoulders don't have any padding and it rounds at the corner.

This Man Is Round.

Next up is this Freak

This is supposed to be Triangle Him.

His hair is in larger, hard angled clumps. Indicating that he probably cut his hair himself. He did... greattt. I already headcannon him as someone who cuts his own hair, but i dont think this one ever gets any better at it.

The hard angles on his teeth, his scar, his jaw, his collar, that line i forgot to erase on the left, and his coat all give indication that this guy is Dangerous and you probably shouldnt mess with him.

I didn't have any real deeper meaning to this version, I just wanted to make him look as opposing as I could. this guy is "what you see is pretty much what you get."

Even though he doesn't have a lot of deeper meaning, I think this one is my favorite of the designs. I really love these colors on him and his hair was really fun to draw. I think I wanna draw him again at some point. I think this version of him would be very funny paired with Koala. I'm chuckling thinking about it:

Koala and her Armed and On Fire kindergartener

And lastly this guy

Sabo's base design is very rectangle coded. From his Hat, to his face shape, to his coat. So this version was very easy to make as I didn't actually need to change that much!

I think maybe I could've made his design a little more complex? But also I think there is a beauty in simplicity for this one. He looks straightforward, reliable, and kind. He seems like the kind of guy who gets his hands dirty, not because he likes doing it, but because he does what he must for the greater good.

I really love his hazel eyes, too. I think it brings a nice warmth to his design that is really nice.

Additional comments:

I love talking about this stuff. I love designing. I love art. I love drawing so much it's so fun

Everytime I get to sit down and make some funky doodles my brain feels like 🧠🤸🧘🧜🧚🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️🧚💃💃💃💃💃💃

If you got this far thanks for reading :)

I usually have a description for my designs and my choices and stuff and I forgot to do one for this post, it makes me happy to see that it was missed :)

#ask reply #@naniguini #shape language

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pls-hold-me-im-justa-weeb · 1 year

Note

Zoro x fem Reader Fantasy AU! NSFW! Could you do something like a Little Red Riding Hood AU where S/O is Red and Zoro is the Big Bad Wolf, but it’s more like every time she visits her grandmother, Zoro tends to follow and protect her in the shadows from any dangers. If you can, can you put Werewolf Zoro in heat? If not, any other scenario leading to NSFW is fine too!

👀👀 sdlkfjsdifjsdkfnsdifj I see you I see you. On my knees for werewolf!zoro 🧎‍♀️ As you wish, my lovely.

Note: for those who don't know what a knot is, in ABO (alpha, beta, omega) dynamics, it is often described as a 'bump' or a ring that goes all the way around the base of the penis, and 'inflates' when the character is about to cum. It's used as a sort of plug to lock in the cum to help ensure that pregnancy occurs. In this story, pregnancy is NOT mentioned, I'm just saying what it's usually for. I'm not entirely sure if there's a consensus if it's a harsh edge or a sloped one, but let me tell you what I imagined for this scenario- it's a thick ring the same hardness as a super hard dick (like about to cum hard), and it doesn't really have a harsh 90 degree edge to it, but blends into the skin like how (generally) the sides of a white person's nose does. if that makes sense lol.

Warnings: teasing reader, rut, reader has a praise kink, reader in sub space kinda, SMUT, oral (m and f receiving), references to a/b/o (he just say's he's an alpha, which ofc he is and calls reader omega) Zoro has a knot, vaginal sex

Also I'm going FERAL over this amazing, incredible art by @philandresi - and the rest of their art omg.

Anywho, without further ado-

Big Bad Werewolf!Zoro in rut with his Little Red Riding Hood fem!S/O NSFW

You inhaled the sweet, fresh scent of the woods. Pine, grass, flowers, and water swirled in a delicate perfume you could never ever begin to recreate. You exhaled, cracking a small smile as you heard a twig snap nearby. He always found you so quickly.

"You're not sneaky, you know" you called out. An answering scoff answered your quip.

"Only 'cuz you know I'm here." Warm arms encircled your waist from behind before letting go quickly. You quirked a brow in surprise. Normally he wouldn't let go of you until you smacked his arms off. You turned around, letting the red hood of your short cloak fall to your shoulders. The skirt of your dress brushed his legs and you shifted the basket to your wrist so you could hug him fully, but he stepped back. Your brows scrunched in confusion.

"You okay? Your face is flushed, and you're sweating. Are you sick?"

He shook his head.

"I... I can't stay long. You should stay at your grandma's for a few days too."

"What's going on? What's wrong?" you stepped forward, a hand raised to reach out in concern. He grabbed your wrist, and seemed to fight with himself before he ripped his hand away.

"I... I don't want to force it on you. It's..." the last few words were mumbled low enough you couldn't understand him.

"It's what?" you asked gently. He ran a clawed hand through his hair, wolfish ears flattening briefly as his fingers passed over them. You noticed his fluffy green tail flicking behind him. You frowned. Normally he didn't have his tail out, and he always sheathed his claws around you.

"my rut" he mumbled, looking down at the ground. His hand rested at the back of his neck, and you tore your eyes away from his heavily muscled bicep. Understanding bloomed in you mind, but you kept your face blank. He'd explained werewolf culture to you over the years you've been seeing each other, and you remembered everything.

"Ohhh.. I remember you mentioned it before, but I can't remember what it is." You cocked your head to the side, eyes wide and innocent. You licked your lips, leaving them shining and parted. You knew exactly how that look affected your werewolf boyfriend. He gazed at you for a second before seemingly shaking it off.

"You ever see an animal in heat?"

You made a show of thinking.

"I think so? I think there was a cat that lived around my house that was for a bit. She kept yowling really loud. Eventually she showed back up pregnant. Are you saying you want to howl really loud?"

You struggled to keep a straight face at Zoro's reaction to the intentional comparison to a simple domestic cat and your question. His brow furrowed and his lip curled.

"Don't tease me, mate." his voice deepened to a timbre at the last word, vibrating through your chest. His fangs elongated slightly and his eyes glowed red. Ah. I got caught. Heat began to pool in your abdomen, and you shifted your legs to avoid rubbing them together. A evil smile curved your boyfriend's lips, and he ran a tongue over sharp fangs.

"I can smell your arousal, sweetheart" he leaned forward, nosing the area of your neck beneath you ear. You whined.

"I don't care that it's your rut, Zoro. I want to help you through it. I want to be with you. I love you, so take me."

He growled, and tore himself away from you. It seemed to cause him physical pain, and he crossed his arms over his chest.

"What about your errands?" he said, nodding to your basket.

"I can make them quick. I should tell grandma I won't be coming for a few days anyway."

He furrowed his brow.

"I could hurt you" he whispered. Pained worry danced in his eyes, nearly hidden under a scowl. You smiled gently.

"You would never. Remember? I'm your mate. Even when you stalked me through the woods for a month, trying to take the food, you could never bring yourself to do it because you couldn't hurt me. You can't hurt me."

His tail flicked behind him.

"You realize that once we start, I won't be able to even let you out of my sight for days"

You nodded.

"I wouldn't have it any other way. I want to spend your rut with you. I trust you completely. God, Zoro I've even been waiting for you to ask if you can make the mating bite, which is more permanent than human marriage. I want to spend my life with you, ruts and all. I want you to be mine, and I need to be yours. Please." You stepped closer to him while you spoke, raising a hand to cup his cheek. He nuzzled your palm, a breath of relief shuddering through him.

"I was gonna do it next rut" he muttered. Your heart skipped a beat.

"You were?"

He nodded sheepishly.

"I was going to tell you after this one so you had time to consider it. It's a huge commitment. I knew through all the ruts I've had so far that I would've sealed the mating bond whether or not you wanted it. That's why I spent them alone" he admitted. Your heart melted.

"Zoro..."

"There's something else you should know."

"What is it?"

"There's... There's a chance you'll change into a werewolf too" he said, looking resolutely in your eyes.

"I know. That doesn't matter as long as I have you" you whispered. His eyes widened, then he surged forward in a bruising kiss. You accepted it, letting him control it. His tongue entered your mouth, sliding over yours and exploring your mouth. You moaned. A quiet growl escaped from his chest. You pulled back, breaking the kiss. A string of shared saliva broke from your bottom lip.

"Let's drop the basket off real quick. I also should pick up a change of clothes I have at my grandma's" you muttered with a smirk. You've never been carried at the speed Zoro went to your grandmother's house.

----

By the time you reached his dwelling (a surprisingly cozy and developed cottage-like structure carved out of the side of a hill), Zoro couldn't keep his hands off you. He threw you down on the nest of blankets and pillows he had in place of a bed before sitting up to rest his hands on your knees to smirk down at you. You swallowed, nervous lust making the wetness between your legs grow.

He tore off his shirt, ripping the fabric down the middle. Your eyes widened. It wasn't even close to the first time you two had sex, but it the first time you've seen him so intense. Your hands rose to unclasp your cloak, but he stopped you.

"Keep it on. Wearing that fucking cloak in the middle of those woods was a mistake, Mate. You caught my attention, and now you're mine."

Oh. oh. Yeah, you could play along.

"Oh do tell, Mr. Wolf, how exactly you're going to make me yours" you smirked. You moved your hands to rest by your head and arched your back slightly, offering your body to him. A deep growl emanated from his chest, and you couldn't hold back a soft groan. He dragged one hand up your thigh to rest on your hip, hiding under the skirt of your dress. The other fondled a breast through the fabric.

You could tell he was rapidly losing his sense. Before you could open your mouth to say anything else, he unsheathed a claw from the tip of his index finger and sliced easily through the entire length of your dress. You expected this, but the casual show of killing power made you moan and you felt yourself grow wetter.

"Off" he grunted. You sat up and shimmied your arms out of the sleeves and tossed the ruined dress to the side, leaving you in your cloak, bra and panties. He pushed you back on the bedding and crawled on top of you, resting his knees next to your hips. His mouth began to suck blooming red and purple marks on your neck, and he dragged his fangs over your jugular. You hissed in a breath, rubbing your thighs together. His hands found their previous positions, one fondling your breasts and the other pinning your hip to the blankets as he rested some of his weight on it.

"Zoro~" you moaned. You let your hands trail up his back, dragging your nails lightly over his tanned skin until your fingers tangled in his short green hair. You let your hands run over his ears. You knew they were sensitive, and he rewarded you with a harsher bite to the top of your breast. He unsheathed a claw and sliced open the front of your bra, letting your breasts fall free. His warm, calloused thumb circled a nipple, pebbling it under his touch. His tongue laved over the other, circling it and suckling it until it was hard. He popped off and switched his mouth over to the other one, showing it the same attention as the other cooled quickly. Your fingers scratched his scalp as your hands curled a little in pleasure. He hummed, and you moaned at the vibration against your nipple.

"More. Zoro. Please"

He chuckled darkly at your plea, removing his mouth from your breast to look up at you. His irises were red, and he ran a tongue over his fang.

"Begging already? I've hardly even touched you." His voice was deeper and more gravely, and it made your breath hitch, sending heat to pool in your abdomen. You whined, tugging gently on his hair to guide him between your thighs.

"Not yet, mate. I want you to do something for me first." He ground his clothed cock against you wet panties, groaning deeply at the friction. He was hot and hard in his pants. Your eyes widened at the heat coming off him. You nodded frantically. He smirked at your eagerness.

"There's my good girl." Your body relaxed back, mind starting to feel fuzzy at the praise. He sat back on his heels and stood, and you reached out, already missing his warmth. One of his hands met yours, and you heard a rustling of fabric as he stepped out of his pants.

He helped you sit up on your knees on the bedding, back close to the wall. He stood in front of you. You were face to face with his bobbing cock, and you licked your lips. You've sucked him off before, but he seemed even bigger. Your middle finger and thumb normally could just barely touch if you squeezed around his cock, but now as you roughly teased it, they were about a centimeter apart, and he was even longer. He threw back his head with a groan at your harsh touch.

"You're bigger" you muttered.

"You can take it, can't you?" he cooed. There was a note of worry in his tone, but you nodded, looking up at him. Shadowed with the setting sun filtering through the window at his back as he looked down at you, his eyes glowed red. The orange light reflected beautifully off his green ears. Your heart skipped a beat and your breath hitched with love and lust. He thrusted forward, tapping the tip of his cock against your lips, and you opened obediently and sucked him down. It took some adjusting to get used to his new girth and length. You couldn't swallow him down immediately like you have in the past.

You popped off and stroked his length. He was warmer and heavier than usual, and you tried again. This time, the extra lubrication from your saliva made it much easier, and you hummed around his dick. He swore and gripped the sides of your head in desperation. You bobbed your head a few times, getting used to his length and coating it with your saliva. You let a hand pump the rest of the dick you couldn't reach with your mouth. The ring of his knot was already beginning to form at the base of his cock.

"Shit. That's it. Taking it so good. Fuck!" You moaned at his praise, laving your tongue in circles around the tip, closing your eyes to focus. Once you were used to it, you trailed your free up his thighs to his hips, pushing and pulling slightly. He took the hint and eagerly began fucking your face. You let yourself loll your tongue out, gagging once or twice. It was messy, and tears gathered in your eyes at the burn at the back of your throat as he sheathed himself into your mouth. You felt your saliva dripping off your chin onto your lap, and you looked up at him, tears in your eyes. His brow was furrowed with building pleasure, mouth open as he huffed in breaths as he thrusted. He looked so close, and you had just the thing to send him over the edge.

Your free hand cupped his already tightening balls, and the other that was wrapped around his cock squeezed harshly on his knot. You gagged around the tip as it slipped into your throat. He froze in that position, shaking as he threw his head back with pleasure. His hands tightened around your head, claws lightly scraping against your neck.

"Ah! Fuck! Shit I'm-"

His release spurted hotly down the back of your throat, and you massaged both his balls and knot. His hips stuttered and his hands released your head and slammed on the wall behind you to keep himself upright. You hummed proudly around his cock, and his hips stuttered as the last wave of his orgasm bordered on overstimulation. He slowly drew his hips back, a string of your saliva connecting your lip to the reddened tip.

"You little fucking minx" he growled. You looked up at him with wide eyes, catching your breath and uselessly trying to wipe away the saliva from your chin as you smirked. You watched as he knelt in front of you so you were eye to eye.

"C'mere."

He grabbed the edge of a blanket and wiped your face and thighs, cleaning you quickly before kissing you roughly. His tongue explored your mouth, and you let him before exploring his elongated fangs with yours. Once satisfied, you pulled away.

"Good?" he muttered. You nodded, jaw too tired to form words. Without warning, he maneuvered your body so you were standing with your back resting against the wall. He unclasped your cloak, tossing it to the side. You looked at him curiously as he knelt back down.

"Your turn" he growled. Your stomach swooped. He sliced your panties off your body quickly with a claw, and slung one leg over his shoulder and held your ass as he lifted the other leg over his other shoulder. You squeaked, grabbing his head for balance. He stood easily, sliding your back up the wall and burying his face in your pussy. He held your ass and thighs on his biceps, and his hands grasped you over your ribcage, pinning you back to the wall. The easy demonstration of strength turned you on like nothing else, not to mention what he was doing with his mouth.

You knew that he could change his tongue, but it took you by surprise every time. He was devouring your pussy, nose pressing into your clit as his tongue dove into you, wiggling around and finding your sweet spot with his unnaturally long tongue. You were already close to finishing from the previous sloppy blowjob and his shows of strength.

"Ah! Z-Zoro! Please I'm already close!" you wailed.

"Cum on my fucking tongue" he demanded. The sound of his deep voice vibrating the flesh around your cunt had you spasming in his hold as he laved his tongue over your clit. He swirled his tongue around your clit, extending your orgasm. Your back arched as he suddenly shoved his tongue into your pussy, devouring your release. Your heels dug into his back and one hand clawed into his hair, and the other desperately scratched at the wall behind you.

"Fucking delicious"

You could only moan at this point, and he lowered you down as you twitched on the bedding. He was rock hard again already, and he stroked the purpling tip with a smirk as he licked his lips. His chin was shiny from your release, and he lapped it up with his elongated tongue. Your chest was still heaving as your caught your breath.

"Ready for your alpha's cock, mate?"

He'd never referred to himself as an alpha during sex before, but it did something to you. You nodded eagerly.

"Face down, ass up, baby girl"

You froze in place for a second, staring in shock and desire as your stomach swooped with arousal. You scrambled into position, arching your back with your knees together under your hips. You reached around to spread your cheeks and thighs open for him, revealing yourself to him. The growl he let out was purely animalistic.

"Such a pretty omega pussy. Wanna be filled?"

"Zoro~~ Please! Please fuck me!"

His cock rubbed through your folds, then slid between your slicked thighs. He roughly grabbed your arms, holding both your wrists in one hand, pinning them to your back. He leaned over you, resting his weight on one hand, clawed into the bedding by your head. You moaned at his dominating presence.

"Is that how you address me?"

His cock dragged teasingly along your clit as his hips met your ass. You moaned.

"A-alpha?" you guessed through your sex-hazed brain. He rewarded you with a nip on your shoulder.

"Good girl"

He leaned back to rest his heavy arms on your hips, spreading your ass just a little further. You whined as he dragged his hot dick from between your thighs and aimed it at your soaked cunt. He started out slow, but as soon as you mewled and tensed your back in pleasure, he bottomed out with a harsh thrust. You screamed, the sudden painful stretch blending into ecstasy. He held still, curled over your form as he fell onto his free hand by your head, the other gripping your wrists as he held back from destroying you.

"Good omega" he cooed harshly in your ear. You mewled.

The Zoro you were familiar with was gone. His arms were shaking with the effort of not slamming into your sloppy cunt until it bruised. You wiggled your hips, a silent invitation for him to move. He took it. He sat back up and gripped your hips like handles, releasing your wrists from his grip. He yanked you back to meet his thrusts halfway. His claws dug into your flesh, but didn't draw blood. You were shaking with pleasure, and it felt like you were continuously orgasming. You moaned loudly for him, gripping the blankets beneath you desperately.

You lost track of time, only knowing the cresting and receding continuous pleasure. Your tongue lolled out and your eyes rolled back, whines and moans escaping your throat. Low curses and groans rumbled from Zoro's chest, almost drowned out by the wet sound of skin meeting as he pounded your soaking pussy. He got impossibly faster, and you screamed as he hit something deep inside you. He quickly adjusted his aim, hitting that spot every time his hips slapped against your ass.

"Shit. Fuck. Keep tightening up like that. Fuck. Good omega" he muttered behind you. You felt his knot hitting the rim of your entrance, almost bullying its way into your pussy. Your pleasure was close to cresting, higher than you've ever felt. You could only moan. His knot finally caught on your rim, popping back out once before he slammed it back in. The movement made the tip of his cock push harshly against that one spot deep inside, and you screamed again, body clenched and shaking. His hand snaked around you hips and rubbed your clit, and you fell apart.

Blinding white pleasure sang through your body as your muscles clenched. You felt yourself squirt onto the sheets as Zoro leaned over your back, sinking his fangs into the junction of your neck and shoulder. It hurt for a brief second, but the magic of the bite took hold, and the white hot pleasure of both of your orgasms rocked through your body as he pumped his thick cum into you.

"Fuck I love you, omega. Mate!"

You heard his cry as your vision faded.

You must've passed out, because the next time you opened your eyes, Zoro was cuddling you from behind, his cock slipping out as his knot began to deflate. You must've been asleep for a while if he could pull out.

"Omega awake?"

"mmhm"

"Good. Drink." He ordered, shoving water in your face. You sat up, grimacing as the squelch of cum oozing from you made itself known. You gratefully drank the water, looking at your mate. He was already stroking his cock back to full mast. You smirked. Apparently, you were just getting started.

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