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A DADDY A DAY (KEEPS CELIBACY AWAY)
contents: wriothesley x gn!reader, daddy kink, bdsm elements, kink/dynamic exploration, reader is called baby, mentions of other titles (sir, master), penetrative sex in unspecified hole (reader receiving), creampie, the aftercare to round 2 pipeline
or, we all have our little quirks. some people drink spring water like wine. others like to be called daddy.
the thing about wriothesley's daddy kink is that you don't expect it. you've dabbled with other titles since the first time he took you to bed, cycling through titles based on your creativity and his requests.
sir was good. master was better. but when wriothesley grinds deep inside of you with a low growl and a command— cum for me, baby— a soft, plaintive 'daddy' rips from your heaving chest as you tumble helplessly over the edge.
the honorific feels right. wriothesley takes care of you. he spoils you. he's gentle and tender and loving, and he makes your head spin with how he wields his easy, firm dominance. and most importantly, wriothesley likes it— his cock pulses before he spills inside of you with an almost pained groan.
"you're never going to let me live this down, are you?" he grumbles afterward, gentle hands wiping the sweat from your skin. "stop smiling at me like that, baby."
"like what, daddy?" you blink at him, all coyness and exaggerated innocence, and you feel his cock twitch valiantly. wriothesley looks absolutely mortified. "oh my god, you really like it."
"i thought that was evident by the way i literally came on the spot once you said it." wriothesley finishes wiping you down and tosses the warm towel off to the side, where he'll probably trip over it later. he snuggles in behind you, wrapping his arms around you with a deep groan. "also, it's you, baby. of course i like it."
"flatterer," you say, pulling his hand to your mouth for a kiss. he lets you nuzzle against him, so you do, lavishing his skin with gentle affection.
"only speaking the truth," wriothesley's voice cracks as you press another kiss to his hand. there's a growing hardness at your back that you can't ignore.
"so it seems," you tease. you wiggle around in his hold and press your lips against the corner of his mouth in a fit of adoration. the bulge at your hip hardens fully, and you can't resist the urge to indulge in him once again. you lean up, asking wordlessly for a proper kiss— one that he gives with passion and consuming lust. when you come up for air, your voice comes out in a thready whine. "oh, it really is everything i do, isn't it?"
"we just cleaned up, baby," he sighs, as if you're the one making his hips roll in a subtle grind (you're not— he's doing that himself). "what am i going to do with you?"
you put on your best doe-like, wide-eyed pout and cup his face in your hands. "please, daddy. make me feel good again."
you're flipped onto your back, folded in half, and moaning like the spoiled little thing you are within the next thirty seconds.
#wriothesley smut#genshin smut#genshin impact smut#wriothesley x reader#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#wriothesley x you#genshin x you#genshin impact x you#writemin!#+wriothesley
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Okay I'll bite who's Author!henry (<-<-<-actually very excited to learn of a Henry Stickmin AU)
Author Henry is an AU where THSC is actually a collection of choose your own adventure novels written by a guy whose name is Henrie Writemin (but i just call him author henry or author hen)
@pastel-player is in charge of most the writing for this guy lol
Among us is also existent in this au as an old obscure scifi novel series that Author Hen wrote that randomly regained popularity later on dgzhdsshdzhf
He also appeared briefly for an april fools day joke in an askblog im on, ask-the-chaos-creation-crew
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contents: neuvillette x gn!reader, dirty talk, reader is called neuvillette's mate, implied penetrative sex (reader receiving)
or, let neuvillette say fuck! let him say it!!!!
there's something about hearing someone as straight-laced as neuvillette say fuck... maybe it's the way he says it, all low and rumbly like thunder. maybe it's how the syllable drips from his lips— forbidden fruit, lush with promise. maybe it's the way he offers it like a prayer, a word of worship to your body.
he savors it, gasps it, groans it. archons, he'll moan, so good, my love, so perfect. it's like you were made for me to fuck you. and perhaps a little later, when pleasure has frayed his decorum like flames licking up a fine painting— fuck, take it, that's right, you love this, don't you? i should keep you like this always— well-loved and well-fucked, luxuriating in your own decadent satisfaction. i'd keep you spoiled rotten, fucked silly, a vessel for my pleasure and my seed... my beautiful mate...
there is a time and place for making love. but when he looms over you, eyes wild with barely restrained arousal, twitching and throbbing against your soft skin... a heavy, aching desperation hangs between his legs, dripping with desire... well, there's nothing he can do but fuck you, is there?
#neuvillette smut#neuvillette x reader#neuvillette x you#genshin smut#genshin x reader#genshin x you#writemin!#+neuvillette
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SHIEDA KAYN | nsfw abc's — headcanons
contents: gender-neutral!reader, reader is implied to be kayn's partner, mentions of heavy/intense kinks, kayn is a lil slut (affectionate), some soft!kayn for the soul, top-leaning switch kayn, penetrative sex (reader receiving)
written with both heartsteel & canon kayn in mind! lemme slut out our collective boyfriend <3 nsfw alphabet hc prompts taken from @/the-coldest-goodbye. as always, thanks for reading! comments + rbs + asks always appreciated :3 stream paranoia!
a (aftercare) — what are they like after sex?
kayn is surprisingly considerate— he's pretty good about matching his aftercare to whatever activity you've done. for a long night of hard sex, you might get a bath and cuddles. for a vanilla quickie, he might toss a snack at you, pull you into his lap, and rest his chin on your shoulder while he makes sure you eat it.
b (body part) — favorite body part of theirs? their partners?
kayn has a not-so-secret thing for your hips. it doesn't matter how big or small, how curvy or flat, just as long as he can get his hands on them and squeeze. on himself... well, he's worked hard for his abs. it'd be a shame if he didn't appreciate them fully! (in the rare, soft moments, he'll tell you he likes his hands. he likes the way they fit with yours)
c (cum) — what's up with the cum situation?
kayn loves using his own cum as lube. it's thick and creamy and sticky, and something about the way it drips from your skin makes his head spin. he also makes adjustments to his diet to make sure he tastes good because he's freaky like that (read: he absolutely licks his own cum off his fingers after he jerks off, and he relishes in the taste)
d (dirty secret) — what's their dirty little secret?
sometimes, when he's feeling particularly wretched, kayn will ask rhaast to take over his body and jerk him off. the combination of giving up control and rhaast's taunting, filthy praises makes him cum harder than anything he could do to himself.
e (experience) — how experienced are they?
kayn knows how sex works, but more importantly, he's well-versed in pleasure. he's perfectly capable of figuring out just what makes you tick (and what makes your brain melt out of your leaking hole). it's just a matter of how nice he's feeling.
f (favorite position) — what's their favorite position?
kayn absolutely loves doggy. there's just something about the way he can manhandle you, and mount you, hands spanning over your hips, pulling you back onto his cock, that makes him hopelessly aroused. the only downside is that he can't see your pretty face when you cum on his cock, but he's generally okay with that. after all, there's always next round.
g (goofy) — are they more serious? more humorous?
kayn tends to be a force of nature when it comes to fucking you. the only time he really laughs during sex is in disbelief of how good you feel, nice and warm and wet around his cock, or if he's being mean, he'll laugh at how needy and desperate you are. if you catch him in a good mood, though, he'll grin and engage in a bit of teasing banter while he does his best to make you lose your train of thought.
h (hair) — how well-groomed are they? do the carpets match the drapes?
kayn doesn't really shave, but he doesn't really need to— he's naturally got a bit less hair down there. he occasionally does a little trim, just to keep everything looking neat and enticing, including the tempting patch of hair that trails down his tummy. as for the color... the carpet matches the drapes, though he won't dye his pubes to match if he dyes his hair. he learned that lesson a while ago.
i (intimacy) — how romantic are they? how sensual?
it really depends. he has the capacity for romance— it's one of those fantasies that he keeps in a secret back corner of his mind, only to be pulled out when he's feeling at his weakest. he likes linking his fingers with yours. he loves kissing you while you cum. and if you specifically ask for something sweet and slow, he'll oblige (though not without making a little fuss about how he's big, bad, dark and powerful first)
j (jerk off) — masturbation headcanon
kayn is a huge supporter of jerking off. he proudly fails no nut november on november 1st every year. but it's not really his fault— his balls just feel so full and heavy if he doesn't cum at least once or twice a day. and it's no joke, either— the ache between his legs often becomes overwhelming, sending him stumbling to his bed to curl a rough palm around his length. even rhaast lets out a soft sigh of relief once the familiar pleasure starts to coil in kayn's gut. if you're not around to help him through it, what else can he do but fuck his fist?
k (kink) — what's a kink they have?
kayn's got a corruption kink a mile wide. he loves watching his partners go from put-together, well-adjusted members of society to needy, slutty little puddles of arousal. the higher they fly, the farther they have to fall, and kayn loves tugging you down just a little further into the depths of degeneracy.
l (location) — what's their favorite place to get it on?
he's not picky, but if you let him choose, kayn has nothing wrong with fucking in a bed— yours or his, it doesn't matter. of course, he's had his fair share of public sex, and he can't deny he loves the thrill of almost getting caught, but his possessive streak balks at the idea of someone else getting to hear all of your pretty little sounds. he likes to keep you to himself, desperate and debauched in his bed.
m (motivation) — what turns them on?
a slight breeze could turn him on. really. it's almost a little pathetic how easily he can get going, but what turns him on the easiest is you. it's the littlest things, really. the sliver of skin between your shirt and your pants when you reach up and stretch, the soft curl of your smile when he's done something sweet that surprised you— there are so many small things you do that drive him insane. and he's determined to make you accept the consequences.
n (no) — what turns them off?
kayn will try (almost) anything once, but he's not a huge fan of ageplay. he'll let you call him daddy, sure, but he's not a caretaker at heart.
o (oral) — giver or receiver? skill level?
kayn won't lie— he prefers receiving head over giving it. there's just something so gutwrenching about having a pretty little thing between his thighs, lips spread wide around his cock, glancing up at him with pleading, desperate eyes. but that's not to say he never gives head. just because he prefers to receive doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy giving head. in fact, he loves to return the favor. what he lacks in technique he makes up for in pure, filthy passion. he doesn't fuck you with his tongue as much as he makes out with your dripping hole.
p (pace) — fast and rough? slow and sensual? other?
kayn's got a penchant for those deep, overwhelming thrusts— the kind that make you feel like his cock is drilling straight up into your throat. most nights, he'll come in hard and fast, fucking you stupid with single-minded devotion. but on the rare occasion where he's patient enough to take his time with you, watch out. he'll take you apart slowly, methodically, until you're nothing more than a warm, pliant hole, begging for more.
q (quickie) — opinions on quickies?
kayn loves a good quickie, especially when he's got his heartrate up and pumping. he makes sure to make it good for you, too— in fact, he doesn't tell you, but he's got a mental tally of just how fast and how often he can make you cum (hint: it's very fast and very often). the one downside is that kayn is a little shit, so he sometimes makes a mess of you and, after helping you calm down with a quick cuddle and a few sweet, lazy kisses, he'll cackle and leave you to clean up the mess of cum he's left dripping between your thighs. it doesn't happen very often, though— most of the time, he'll kiss it all off your skin. can't have any going to waste, after all.
r (risk) — do they like to experiment? do they take risks?
again, kayn will try (almost) anything once. in the world of kinks, fetishes, and pleasure, there's very little he hasn't (or won't) try. as for risk... what's life without a little adrenaline rush every once in a while? he loves a good thrill, and the high is even better when he's balls-deep inside of you, letting the cocktail of hormones and pleasure overwhelm him as his cock paints your walls with spurt after spurt of thick, creamy seed
s (stamina) — how many rounds? how long do they last?
kayn's stamina is the stuff of legends. a league of legends, even (lol). his self-control is extremely impressive, and his love for overstimulation makes him the perfect candidate for marathon sex. he can go for hours, and his refractory period is surprisingly short. on the off chance that you manage to tire him out, rhaast is always waiting in the wings, burning with the desire to take you for himself.
t (toys) — sex toy headcanon
if you ask kayn, he'd say he isn't super into toys (he's lying). he has a solid collection of them. it's mostly fleshlights, back from the days before he met you, but he also has a more discretely hidden collection of anal toys, vibrators, and massagers that his prostate is intimately and lovingly familiar with. once he meets you, he'll expand his collection to include a few nice, thick dildos— perfect for filling any empty holes that he can't take with his cock.
u (unfair) — how much do they like to tease?
kayn's ability to tease is directly correlated with how pent up he is. when he's planned a scene with you or is coming in calm, he loves to tease. he likes getting a little condescending, letting his voice take on a smug, patronizing lilt while he turns you into a dripping puddle of need, denial, and aching desire. but when he's amped up and high on adrenaline, he needs you on his cock and he needs you immediately. there's no tease— only a feral, growling beast of a man, desperate to ravage you until you're as depraved as he is.
v (volume) — how loud are they? what sounds do they make?
kayn has absolutely no self-consciousness when it comes to being loud, and he is loud. he sounds good and he knows it— he's seen your pupils dilate when he lets a particularly obscene moan slip from his throat— and he's happy to let you hear exactly what you're doing to him. his sounds range from soft, needy moans to deep, animalistic growls. on rare occasion, when he lets you ride him, you can even draw a few trembling little whimpers from his lips as he bucks his hips up, searching for more, hotter, deeper.
w (wildcard) — random hc!
sometimes, kayn's control slips when he orgasms, and rhaast peeks through. luckily for everyone, rhaast is surprisingly weak to the pleasures of the mortal flesh. one rhaast is finished having his way with you, it's pretty easy for kayn to take control again, leaving rhaast's consciousness to soak in the afterglow.
x (x-ray) — what's going on under their clothes?
kayn's not obscenely big, though he might claim otherwise. he's actually pretty average when he's hard— around 5.5 inches (14cm), but he's veiny and thick. his cock is unfairly pretty, especially when his slit drools out pearly little drops of pre-cum. when it's inside of you, it feels so heavy and hot and good that it's more than enough to keep you coming back for more. his balls are always full and always heavy, and if he lets you edge him a few times, his head goes from a deep, dusty pink to a pretty purple.
y (yearning) — how's their sex drive?
his sex drive is insane. if he's not working himself up, then rhaast is behind the scenes, whispering filthy demands in kayn's subconscious. if he were any less disciplined, he'd waste his days away, jerking himself off until you were available for him to play with. as it is, he still cums at least twice a day— once in the morning before he gets out of bed, and once at night before he goes to sleep. otherwise, his poor cock throbs with the lack of attention, and his balls get all swollen and achy, and he can't focus or relax until he's emptied himself into his fist, or, if you're around, into a warm, willing hole.
z (zzz) — how quickly do they fall asleep after?
it takes kayn a while to come down from his post-coital high. even after he's done with aftercare (both for himself and for you) and you're both sated and comfortable, he sometimes finds it hard to calm down completely. he likes to burn off that extra energy by pulling you into a slow, sensual make out session, which usually ends up with you mouthing sleepily at his neck while you both drift off to sleep.
#kayn smut#kayn x reader#shieda kayn smut#shieda kayn x reader#heartsteel kayn smut#heartsteel kayn x reader#league of legends smut#league of legends x reader#heartsteel smut#heartsteel x reader#writemin!#+kayn
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🔮 LESSONS IN CONTROL
contents: ascended!astarion x gn!reader (tav), dubcon, hand-wavey mind control magic, heavy possessiveness, master/pet titles used, canon-typical objectification and condescension of tav/self-insert by ascended astarion, reader is needy and also smitten, fingering, penetrative sex (reader receiving in unspecified hole), praise kink, lovey dovey sex depending on ur interpretation of whether or not astarion genuinely loves tav/self-insert (if it helps, i wrote it with the mindset that he does love you)
a/n: wahoo!! second week let's go! please accept my first bg3 / astarion fic <3 he's so... so... i wanna kis his FACE!! as always, rbs & comments are appreciated!
you will never tire of the way that astarion looks at you, even now. there’s a covetous kind of adoration that shines in his eyes, a sort of smug, devoted possessiveness that makes your skin ache to be touched by him.
“there’s my little treat,” he purrs, welcoming you into his lap. his hands come up to rest on your hips, where they belong. “my sweet, darling pet… whatever is the matter?”
“i miss you.” you press up against him, petulant in the way you know he loves to indulge. “will you come to bed with me?”
“oh? surely, i have not been neglectful.” he doesn’t kiss you as much as he possesses you, licking into your mouth with a single-minded desire that makes your head spin. “after all, it was only last night that i took you until you could barely breathe from the pleasure.”
“but i could never have enough of you,” you say, punctuating your words with sweet kisses. “i’m addicted to you, master. i can’t help myself. whenever you’re not touching me, i ache for you.”
“needy,” he clicks his tongue. the taste of his condescension is sweet on your tongue. it drips over your skin, sticky and golden as honey. this is what you live for— this love, this obsession, this subjugation. “but far be it for me to deny you. where it is it that you ache, my dearest? is it… here?”
he dips his head, leaving a trail of warm, sloppy kisses down your neck, over your collarbones, down to your chest. the subtle point of a fang grazes against your nipple, and you gasp as his lips follow, suckling at your chest. neither of you have been warm-blooded or warm-bodied in centuries, but heat still shoots through your body at the way his mouth feels against your skin.
“l-lower, master— i need you, i—”
“lower?” his fingers trail down your stomach, slipping between your legs and rubbing at your leaking hole with well-practised grace. “here?”
“please, please stop teasing, master,” the words pour from you, a font of desperation. his presence is overwhelming in the best way. your chest heaves as you try to contain the abject desire that threatens to burst from your heart. “inside. i need you inside. please.”
his smile is a knife’s blade across his face— sharp, swift, satisfied. “how is it that you only grow more perfect for me with each and every day?”
if you were in your right mind, you might answer: of course you’re perfect for him. he’s molded you to fit his desires, rewarded you with pleasure beyond your wildest dreams in exchange for your submission. his love, his control— they’re one and the same.
love as subjugation. love so strong it rips you at the seams, remodels you in astarion’s image. this is what you crave. this is everything to you—
your mind goes blank as his finger breaches your hole. you’d prepared yourself for him— of course you had— and both you and your master reap the fruits of your labor. he makes a soft, pleased sound in the back of his throat, feeling how pliant you are, how warm you are, and even the barest hint of his approval makes your head spin with heady bliss.
his fingers stretch you out, stroking along your sensitive walls and easily finding your favorite spots. you let out a soft, shuddery sigh, melting into astarion's shoulder as he fingers you open. he coos and curls his fingers just so— a reward for your easy submission.
ever since his ascension, astarion has changed— this much is undeniably true. what hasn't changed, though, is his uncanny ability to play your body like the finest of instruments. if he hadn't trained your hole so well, perhaps you'd be satisfied to sit on his fingers forever, drooling your brains out on the fine fabric of his regalia. as it is, your body hungers for more.
a wordless whine escapes your lips.
“i know, my sweet. i’ve been so mean, haven’t i? i said i would stop teasing, yet here you are, so horribly teased.” he gives you a few more indulgent thrusts, taking his time to enjoy every shudder and shiver he pulls from your willing body. “and you’ve been so patient, too. so perfect.”
he pulls his fingers from your body, making a deep, satisfied noise at the way your walls cling to him, as if loathe to let him go. you mourn the loss, soul singing a requiem. every moment that he is not inside of you is suffering.
“shh, i know. i know,” he hushes you, soothes you, gently caressing your skin. “let me make it up to you, my love. what does your little heart desire? just speak the words, and i shall give it to you.”
a reward. your master is gracious, kind, and perfect. even being in his presence is reward enough. but, if he truly wants to reward you… there is only one thing you crave. there is only one thing you have ever craved, and you know he craves it, too.
“control me, master,” you plead. “compel me. please. i want you to.”
“however could i say no?” something sweet and distinctly desirous shines in his eyes, and he captures your lips in a deep, drugging kiss. his control envelops you, familiar and warm as the olympian hearth. when he pulls back, you remain connected to him by a thin, shimmering strand of saliva, and by the twin sparks of lust that burn in your bellies. "my treasure."
his will wraps around you, diffuses through your limbs, and your mind quiets. there's nothing quite like this— this bliss, this pleasure. it makes you feel so, so good, just to submit, just to obey.
you feel his commands nudging at your mind, puppeting your body. saccharine devotion rises up within you, and you shudder with delight. so this is the game tonight— he wants you needy, wants you adoring, wants you fawning over his every move.
you'd give it to him even if you weren't under his thrall. such is the unconditional nature of your love. if he became a twisted, soulless version of himself, you would twist yourself to match him, and you'd pour enough soul into him to sustain him too.
"love me," he murmurs against the shell of your ear. "give me everything of you, and love me."
“yes,” you breathe, desperate supplication to the only god you know. if your master’s control had been any less potent, you would believe that you were acting of your own accord. but… this is good, too. just because he’s drawn the words from your lips doesn’t make them any less genuine. “i love you, astarion.”
“there’s my perfect little pet,” he says. something flashes across his face— something you don’t recognize, something that hints at regret. the urge to kiss the sadness from his expression is familiar, and not completely contrived. “i love you, too.”
his hands find your hips, and he finally, finally sinks inside of you. your eyes flutter shut, intent on luxuriating in this pleasure to the fullest. there is no greater joy than when astarion is inside of you, filling you, making you his. there is no greater glory than serving your master.
“astarion,” your breath catches in your throat as he rolls his hips up. his cock drags deliciously against your sensitive walls. he stimulates you mercilessly, making sure to pay attention to all of the spots that make you go weak and dizzy and pliable. you cling to him, melting against his shoulder as he thrusts up again and again and again. “i— i’m— astarion!”
“i’m here, little love,” he purrs. “it feels good, doesn’t it?”
“so good,” you say. it comes out as a soft little sob. “i— you— wait, astarion, i— oh!”
he shifts your weight in his lap, and the slightest change in angle lets him slip just a bit deeper. the tip of his cock kisses a painfully sensitive spot deep inside, and your eyes widen, shock quickly giving way to pleasure. he’s so deep. you’re so full.
“there it is,” he coos. “that’s right. look at you, taking me nice and deep. i can practically taste it, you know. how good you’re feeling.”
your body is his. he owns it. he controls it. the barest hint of a command nudges at the corner of your mind, and you let go of the lingering pain. your gaze goes unfocused, and your jaw slackens. you have never believed in an eternal paradise, but if you did, you think it might feel something like this.
“that’s it. you’re really feeling it now, aren’t you? just keep feeling good for me, darling.”
you slip in and out of lucidity, after that. your body is a livewire of sensations, melting under astarion’s gentle, sensual caresses. nothing matters besides him. it doesn’t even matter if you cum, though you’re sure you do. astarion would never let you feel anything but pleasure. he would never let you go unsatisfied. you love him, after all. this tender dance of flesh and bliss is what lovers do.
re-emerging into reality is like breaking through the fog of a lovely dream. you come to with your cheek resting against his chest, body clean and dry and delightfully sated. though you know he hasn’t had a pulse for several hundred years, you swear you hear the gentle thud of his heart beating as he traces absentminded patterns over your skin.
“did i love you well?”
“you were perfect.” a soft smile pulls at his lips. warmth floods your chest, followed by a pang of… of something. something aching, something hurt. you brush it aside. there is no room for hurt in his arms. you have loved him well. you have pleased him.
“thank you,” you murmur, a tender prayer against his skin. the last of his influence drains from your limbs, and you’re once again in full control of your own mind. the loss of his familiar presence in your mind hits you like waves crashing upon the shore. “i miss you already, master.”
he considers you with an inscrutable expression, and he sighs, warm and playfully exaggerated. again, you catch a hint of that odd, misplaced resignation. it almost makes you pout. is he unhappy with you after all? is he dissatisfied?
the need to reassure, to be reassured, drives you forward, and you pepper chaste kisses over the elegant curve of his jaw, the hollow of his throat. your sloppy adoration draws a soft laugh from his lips, and satisfaction settles in your heart once more.
“you’re so needy, darling,” he says, nuzzling his nose against yours. “but i love you for it.”
the declaration soothes you— a healing balm for all of your little aches and pains. he always knows just what to say to keep you wrapped around his finger.
“i’d do anything for you,” you say, and you mean it. “i’d give anything for you. everything, all of me, for you.”
the words darken his gaze, snuffing out the spark of regret you’d sensed in his expression for good. your heart flutters. this is how your master should look— confident, powerful. satisfied. happy.
a smile curls, smoke from the ashes, on his lips. it’s sharp; it bleeds at the edges, dark and possessive. “i know, little love. all of you, for me. just as it should be.”
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contents: miguel o'hara x gn!reader, nsfw content, wet n messy, implied dumbification, implied overstim, body worship, fuckdrunk
miguel is so, so into sloppy, wet, messy sex. there's nothing he loves more than pumping you so full of his cum that you feel like you'll burst. he wants to make sure you're all marked with the evidence of his claim on you, and what better way to do that than to make sure you cum around his cock, milking every drop of thick, creamy seed from his balls and letting it mix with your juices?
he's practically addicted to you— the delicious scent of your shared pleasure, the way you throw your head back as you beg for more of his cock, more of his cum, more of his love. he loves leaving trails of sloppy, open-mouthed kisses over your chest, your neck, and he's not shy about letting his fangs graze just so over your skin.
he's a feral, hungry beast of a man when he's fucking you. after he cums once or twice, he'll get a bit drunk on sex with you, pleasure loosening his lips and turning him stupid. he'll murmur sweet, filthy promises against the shell of your ear, filling your mind with fantasies that are only made more potent by his low, fucked-out drawl.
the best part is, he'll make good on his promises. he'll fuck you stupid, then use your sweet, aching hole to fuck himself stupid too. he won't stop until you're both cumming dry and practically sobbing with pleasure, clinging helplessly to each other as his hips rut against yours again and again and again. he won't stop. he can't stop. it all just feels too good, and it messes his brain up, making him feel so deliciously dirty.
the highs he chases with you are the highlights of his life. when he's inside of you, nothing else matters. and even when he's not fucking you, the only thing that matters to him is still, irrevocably, you.
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contents: established dan heng x gn!reader. reader is a member of the astral express crew, but is not the hsr mc. hurt/comfort, post-1.2 spoilers
a/n: a little bit of a longer one today! thanks to @itoshisoup, @/petrichorium, n @/kitsunefreak for answering my questions abt dh's reincarnation (ask here)! if u see this i hope u know it took everything in me not to call him daniel heng
you and dan heng have never needed words. why say "i love you" when you could just cut him a plate of fruit? why say "i need you" when you could press little, fluttering kisses to his spine, and watch the shiver of goosebumps spread over his skin?
your language has always been one of quiet actions, quiet loves, which is perhaps why he looks so surprised when you take one look and him and say, quite loudly, "what the fuck?"
because the dan heng standing before you isn't the dan heng you could recognize by touch alone. he's.... taller, somehow. broader. he carries himself with an ease that he hadn't before. and most importantly—
"are those horns?"
"yes," he says, with no further explanation.
"dan heng used to be a cool dragon warrior guy in his past life!" march 7th interjects, seemingly oblivious to your increasing upset. "he was super powerful and super important, too!"
you'd known about the whole... reincarnation thing. he'd explained it to you before, but from your understanding, his past lives weren't important. he'd told you that this life with you was the only one that mattered to him. so why hadn't he told you...?
"that's quite enough, march 7th," himeko takes one glance at your expression and cuts in as march 7th begins rambling about dan heng's... boyfriends? husbands? from his past lives and how handsome and cool and strong they all were, and how their story was so romantic—
dan heng says nothing.
"well," you say abruptly, forcing a smile, "i'm suddenly feeling a bit tired. i'm going to turn in. dan heng, you can sleep outside tonight."
you stand up and swiftly make your way to the passenger car. behind you, you hear march 7th ask, "did i say something wrong?"
you let it all fade into silence as you step into the archive room— you and dan heng's room. at least, it would be silence, if it wasn't for the faint footsteps behind you.
"you're upset with me." dan heng crosses the room to you in a few long strides. gently, carefully, he pulls you into his arms. you let him. despite all of the visual changes, he still smells the same. it's more comforting than you thought it would be. you take a few deep breaths, letting his familiar scent calm you down.
"i'm not angry," you say, voice a bit muffled as you bury your face in his chest.
"you're not," he agrees. "but you are upset."
silence falls upon you. you curl further into dan heng's embrace, and he welcomes you easily, drawing wide circles over your back. he's generous with his touch, his affection. it helps you begin to sort through the mess of feelings in your heart.
"you always told me that your past lives weren't important," you say. the words spill from you, a waterfall of hurt and insecurity. "but then you come back from the luofu looking like some— some celestial war dragon, and then i hear about your banishment for high treason and your two beautiful lovers who recognized you across lifetimes, and how it's so romantic because they're probably your soulmates—"
"i know you don't like when i interrupt," dan heng interrupts. "but i... i want to explain before you get more upset, as there are nuances to this situation that i do not think march 7th handled with enough care. you know how she can be when she's excited."
you nod. you do know. you take another deep breath— in through your nose, out slowly through your mouth. "okay, then. explain. please."
"i do not consider myself the same person as the version of me who lived in the past," dan heng says. "i am dan heng. the person that march 7th spoke of was called dan feng. his deeds and his lovers are not mine. i claim no ownership of nor association with them. thus, they are not important to me. dan feng is not important to me. does that make sense?"
"not really," you say. "you're literally him."
"i am not him," dan heng says. "we may share a soul, but i am not him. i do not remember his life, nor do i want to. i have everything i could ever want here and now, as dan heng."
"really?"
"yes," he says. there's a warm brush of lips against the crown of your head. "the astral express crew makes me happy. you make me happy. we may have our troubles, but there's nobody i would rather face them with than you."
warmth flushes through your body, and you hide your face again. it's rare that dan heng voices his emotions so clearly. his candor strips you raw, scraping at the inside of your chest. he's the one being vulnerable, so why are you the one feeling so seen?
"i mean it," dan heng says, taking your silence as disbelief. "i love you. nothing about my past reincarnation's life will change that."
"you're so ridiculous," you sniffle, willing your tears away. "i love you, too."
silence settles around your shoulders once more, comforting like a feather-filled duvet. dan heng rocks you gently— back and forth, back and forth. new clothes and new horns aside, he still smells the same. he speaks the same way. and when you press your ear to his chest, his heart beats the same, steady beat.
"were your— dan feng's— past lovers really that hot?" you break the silence, and dan heng lets out a rare laugh.
"of course you're curious about that," he says, with no small amount of fondness. "here— i'll let you form your own opinions."
he taps on his communicator a few times, pulling up a picture.
"no way," you do a double take, hands flying to your mouth, and you pull back to look at him, wide-eyed. "dan heng. no way."
"yes way," he says, and you can hear the little smug smirk in his voice. he loves you, you know he does, but you can't blame him for the bit of pride that shines through his tone. if you'd managed to pull not one, but two men that magnificent in your past life, your head would get so big that you'd explode.
"and you don't care about them at all?" you have to ask. dan feng was one lucky guy. it's hard not to feel insecure, just a little—
"why would i? they're strangers to me," dan heng blazes through your train of thought, tilting your chin to look you in the eyes. he sobers. something in his voice reaches into the soft, small animal of your heart, holding it steady as it flutters. "besides, i already have the most beautiful person in the universe in my arms."
extra:
"so does this mean i can sleep in the room again?"
"mrgh," you mumble. if your eyelids were any less heavy, you'd open your eyes to shoot him an incredulous look. your limbs are intwined with his like an octopus, and it's bedtime. surely, he's capable of extrapolating. as it is, you mouth sleepily at his collarbone, and hope he understands it as permission.
"okay. just checking. goodnight, dear."
#writemin!#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#dan heng x reader#hsr hurt/comfort#honkai star rail hurt/comfort#dan heng hurt/comfort#hsr spoilers#(just in case)#+dan heng
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fushiguro toji x gn!reader · nsfw · wc: 2.3k
the flowers of the morning glory unfurl when first rays of sunlight peak over the horizon. so does your pleasure. so, too, does toji's hole— though you're sure toji would have words to protest his hole being likened to a flower, even if both the flower and his hole are among the most beautiful sights you've ever seen.
contents: soft!toji, morning sex, penetrative anal sex w/a strap-on (giving), praise (receiving), light/affectionate degradation and objectification (receiving), rimming (giving), multiple orgasms, light dumbification, blink-and-you-miss it cum eating, toji calls himself daddy one (1) time, established safewords (stoplight system)
reader details: reader acts as a service submissive and top (penetrates their partner), but is implied to be vers. reader is on the whinier / needier side (lol). reader has a hole between their legs and feels pleasure when grinding against the base of a strap-on (the body part that is grinding is not specified). reader is referred to as "baby", "sweetheart", "honey", "thing", and "toy". reader is called "pretty". reader's strap is referred to as "your cock". no pronouns besides "you" are used to describe reader.
you wake up needy, face nuzzling into toji's chest, underwear already damp with the evidence of your desperation.
"morning, baby," toji chuckles, no doubt amused by the seemingly instinctive grind of your hips against his thigh. he sneaks an arm under you, cupping your ass and pulling you even closer.
he's so hot. the increased friction melts you brain a little, sending your whole world tilting on its axis.
"what's got you all worked up, hmm? did you dream of something nice?" his voice dips, all dark and smooth like melted chocolate, and it coats your whole body in warmth.
"may i please fuck you?" the words spill from you even as wetness surges in between your legs. "please, please, please?"
"so needy, and you're barely awake." a brief pause. the sheets rustle. "i'm still sore from last night. any chance you could give me a break?"
you whine, a loud, pitiful thing, and bury your face in his chest. he indulges your dramatics, as he always does, with a lazy grin and a few generous caresses over your back. with the way you're positioned, the pressure of his hardening bulge is unavoidable. that hypocrite wants it just as bad as you do.
"you're being mean," you level a little frown at him. toji has always told you that it's more endearing than intimidating, but either way, the end result is the same, so you can't complain.
"sorry, sweetheart," he says, sounding distinctly unapologetic. "here, i'll make it up to you. where's your cock? i'll help you put it on."
your reticence wars with desire, and as always, the throbbing heat between your legs wins out. you grab your strap and harness from where they were tossed aside. toji had been the one to tear it off in his frenzy to give as good as he'd gotten last night. you hand the whole apparatus to him and shuffle forward on your knees.
"thank you, sweet thing," he says, "always so perfect for me."
every bone in your body melts, reeling from the praise, as he drags gentle hands over your hips, your thighs, your ass. his palms are wide, littered with callouses that make your skin tingle and crave for more. he takes his time, adjusting the straps to make sure they won't chafe. a different kind of heat floods your heart— tenderness.
"my perfect toy," he says, admiring his work. your cock juts out from the intricate web of straps that fastens it to your hips. "a perfect toy with a perfect cock."
you shuffle back, kneeling primly between his thick thighs. he spreads his legs, and your mind goes blank. you'd never considered assholes as something that could be pretty before toji started letting you fuck him, but it's true— he's pretty. you reach out as if in a trance. his rim pouts you, still not quite recovered from its gape last night, and you press two fingers into him. as promised, he's still soft and pliant, and he pulses around you as the tips of your fingers find that rough patch of tissue that never fails to drive toji wild.
"i'm ready, sweet thing," he tries for that sultry, silky smooth voice that makes you putty in his hands, but you can hear the tremble of arousal that weakens him. "i'm all stretched out already— can't you feel it? i don't need your fingers. just give me your cock."
"lemme say hi, first." you can't tear your gaze away. before you can even think to control yourself, your lips press against his hole, and you lick at his puffy rim. his cock flops over your face, dribbling pre-cum over your cheek. you look up at him through your lashes as the taste of lube and something distinctly toji fills your senses.
"fuck, you're a dirty little thing," he groans. "okay, baby. give me a kiss hello."
well, you're determined to give him much more than just a little kiss. your eyes flutter closed as you lavish his hole with attention, dipping the tip of your tongue past his rim and relishing in every shudder and groan you pull from his heaving chest.
toji says something, but you miss it through the rush of blood in your ears. you whine high in the back of your throat, nuzzling your nose against his taint. nothing could be as important as the tender, swollen rim against your lips, the heady taste of sweat and musk on your tongue.
"enough." toji gently pulls your head up, away from his thoroughly ravished hole. you just blink at him, dazed.
his puffy rim catches your attention again. you could do better, you think— you could get him wetter, hotter, looser, fuck him open with your tongue and nothing else, and make him cum all over your face until he's empty and aching.
"i was about to cum," he says, interrupting your train of thought. you nod in agreement, prepared to dive right back in and finish the job. you want him to cum. you need him to cum. you— "you wanted to fuck me, didn't you?"
"mmmnngh," you whine, frustrated, feeling for all the world like starving pup brought to heel in the face of a slab of raw meat. heat pricks at the corners of your eyes. you've never felt quite so wretched as when toji tightens his leash around your throat, keeping you from giving him the endless pleasure he deserves. to your dismay, your tears well up and overflow— a shameful display of your desire.
"don't be like that, baby." toji all but coos at you, stifling in his overbearing condescension. his hands run over your cheeks, your shoulders, wiping your tears away with the precision of a butcher's knife. "you'll get what you want, you spoiled thing. haven't you learned that i always give you the best of me?"
you can't respond. embarrassment flushes your cheeks warm, and you can't quite hold back your little sniffles and sobs.
"oh, come here, sweetheart. don't cry," he's still using that horrible, patronizing tone, the one that always has you easing deeper into hazy submission. he reaches down and lines your cock up with his entrance. "see? look how easy i am for you."
the tip of your cock kisses his hole, and you press forward, entranced by the way he sucks you in. it's a slow, easy slide all the way to the base— he yields to you, welcomes you in. desire is written in every flutter of his rim, every throb of his cock. your gaze finds its way to his face, and your heart skips a beat.
toji wears pleasure with the divine grace of a god. his eyelids flutter under knit brows, long lashes revealing unfocused, slightly crossed eyes. his mouth hangs open, soft groans escaping the little 'o' of his pretty lips. his abs ripple, miles of smooth skin and ridged muscle dancing under your covetous gaze.
his expression shifts when he notices you staring, but his normal sly grin is still softened by pleasure. "you're so perfect, baby. come on. give me what i deserve."
your first thrusts are rabbit-quick— shallow, jerky little things— as you try desperately to regain control of yourself. they earn you a few punched-out gasps, but you know toji. he likes it deep.
you pull back, making sure he can feel every inch of your cock rubbing up against his sensitive walls, then thrust all the way back in, finishing off with a filthy grind of your hips. toji makes a choked noise. "fuck, baby. fuck. just like that, yeah, do that again, perfect thing—"
your brain shuts off, yielding to toji's desires, toji's whims, toji's pleasure. your hips move on their own, thrusting and grinding, thrusting and grinding. the straps around your hips shift ever so slightly. the base of your cock rubs against you, just the way you like it. you pause, eyes wild. you know that when you thrust back in, it'll feel good. too good. the delicious anticipation has your breath catching in your chest.
"what is it, baby?" toji's voice is strained, hoarse— he was about to cum, you think— but there's a clear thread of concern in the gentle brush of his palms over your skin. "color?"
"toji. toji." you're lost for words. how can you even begin to verbalize the overwhelming pleasure that awaits you? how do you tell him that you're scared of it— scared of how good he feels, scared of drowning in the warmth that floods through your nerves? how do you tell him you want it? in the end, there's only one response. "green."
"then what—" toji's grin slices across his face, sharp as a knife. he's put the pieces together. "oh, i understand now. feels too good, doesn't it, honey?"
your jaw hangs slack. your chest heaves. it's all you can do to nod.
"poor baby," he croons. "all that pleasure, and nowhere to hide. are you scared?"
you nod again. your hips tremble, twitching minutely. every movement sends a shock up your spine, frying your brain a little more.
"i— i feel good." your hole clenches around nothing. "toji, toji, i—"
toji's thighs wrap around your hips in one fluid motion and pull, forcing you back inside.
it shatters you.
the friction is even better than you could've imagined, sending you spiralling into a hazy place where toji reigns over your endless ecstasy. your arms go weak, and you collapse against toji's chest. there's no reprieve— not when the shift in position only intensifies the pressure. your hips move instinctively, chasing that pleasure, and your pathetic little whines fall in hot puffs of breath against the shell of toji's ear.
"there you are," toji says, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. you latch on gratefully, suckling at the thick column of his throat. "my pretty, mindless baby— better than a fucking machine, yeah, yeah, just like that— fucking me so good, getting me all hot, so fucking hot—"
wet heat bursts between you, but you barely notice, too focused on the delicious, grinding pressure.
"baby—" toji's voice filters into your ears as if from a great distance. "baby, fuck, i can't think, you're fucking me stupid— ooh—"
another burst of heat, more tantalizing wetness. you whimper, burying your face in his neck and grinding harder. you're so close— so close— you can practically taste it.
"fuck!" if you were any more lucid, you'd describe toji's outburst as a sob. "'s sensitive, baby, hitting my prostate just right, god— god, so good, so good, my perfect baby—"
he's feeling good, you realize, the observation creeping up on you slowly through the fog in your brain. satisfaction curls in your stomach. your tongue feels thick in your mouth. "i— i'm good?"
"yeah, yeah—" the desperation in his voice is devastating. "just a little more, a little more, fuck me—"
you fuck back in, intent on making him cum, intent on hearing more of that thick, cloying desperation, but— but—
the base of your cock rubs against you just right, sparking a familiar, overwhelming storm of sensation. "no. no. not yet, please, not yet—"
"it's okay, baby. go ahead. cum for me."
it's useless to resist. your hips rut mindlessly, chasing your orgasm. you fall over the edge, sobbing, vision going white, as toji shakes and moans against you.
ecstasy runs rampant in your veins, sending you sky high. every nerve is a livewire, every muscle a bowstring drawn taut. you could stay here forever, frozen in bliss— throbbing, trembling, feeling so, so good with toji— for toji.
lucidity comes back to you in warm, grounding strokes. wide palms sweep over your back, gentle, gentle.
"welcome back." toji's voice, too, is warm, gentle. you soak it up, a happy plant in sunlight. "that was a good one, wasn't it?"
"so good," you sigh, nuzzling against his chest. "what about...?"
your heart drops in your chest as more memories come trickling in. he'd been just about to cum, too, and— and you had just gone off by yourself.
"what about what, honey?"
"you didn't cum?" you blink at him, a fresh wave of tears welling up in your lash line. "did i— did i cum without you?"
"huh?" he tilts his head— an unfairly endearing look for a man so big. a huff of laughter. "oh, you were out of it, huh? i came, sweetheart," he soothes. "a few times, actually. i think you just might not have noticed."
you blink at him again, perplexed. how could you not have noticed?
to your shock, white spatters across his tummy, smearing over your skin where you were pressed together. thick, creamy drops collect in his treasure trail. entranced, you drag a finger through the evidence of his pleasure and lift it to your mouth, letting out a happy little hum at the taste. your lips purse as you struggle to keep your thoughts from floating away into the haze that has re-settled around you. how could you convince him to let you suck his cock?
"nuh uh. i know that look." faster than you can blink, you're flipped over onto your back, strap undone and tossed to the side. your legs rest over his shoulders, leaving you spread open and exposed to his hot, intense gaze. "give me some time to recover. i'll play with you for a bit, then i can cum again when i'm inside of you. does that sound good?"
mind still floating in that soft, happy place, you find yourself nodding. there's a word you could say to end all of this—'yellow' would earn you his cock in your mouth one last time before a long night of clean-up and cuddling, but you'd rather die than end the night without his cum stuffed deep inside. "mhm. love you, toji."
he softens, almost imperceptibly.
"i love you, too. let me reward you, baby," he murmurs, turning his head to let his lips brush over your ankle. "i'll show you just how much daddy liked getting fucked."
tags: @enchantedforest-network @yutaleks @stellamancer @izvmimi @mydiluc @dearbraus
#fushiguro toji x reader#fushiguro toji x you#fushiguro toji smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#writemin!#+toji
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death cannot harm you in any way that matters, but when you wake up to astarion's fangs in your neck, a part of you regrets missing out on the most human of experiences— intimacy, connection, and love. perhaps you shouldn't have invited him to join your party.
contents: astarion x gn!reader, suggestive, neck kissing, astarion-typical toxicity (astarion nearly kills reader but it's romantic... trust), based on the early scene in bg3 when astarion first joins the party and kills tav, reader has never been in a relationship and is inexperienced in romance and sex, thoughts on death
you wake to two sharp points of pleasure-pain at your throat. consciousness swims around you, slow and hazy like a smoke from a dying candle. "astarion?"
"hush, little thing." sure enough, your newest traveling companion's voice caresses your ears. ah, vampires. always so hungry. perhaps if you had awoken earlier, you would still have the will to fight him off. but now, warmth floods your body. your perception narrows to delicious sharpness of his fangs against your skin, to the steady, demanding weight of his body over yours.
"feels good," you stumble over the syllables, tongue thick in your mouth. a moan escapes you— a graceless, wanton thing. black creeps into the edges of your vision, but a sudden sense of urgency creeps into your heart. it's imperative that he knows— "astarion, 's so good."
"of course. sweet little things like you deserve a bit of pleasure now and again, don't they?" something dark tints the edges of his voice. you get the sense that he's not really listening to you, and it makes you pout. he's too focused on draining you dry, it seems. for shame! you muster the energy to wiggle a bit in his grasp, and astarion detaches long enough to coo at you. "now, now, don't fuss. just keep feeling good for me, darling."
you wiggle a bit more, a hint of a frown crossing your face. death has never scared you. it's simply the next great adventure, you think, with an added bonus of reuniting with the loved ones you'd lost along the way. that being said...
"i don't want to die yet," you say, even as your eyes roll back in your head. the feeling of blood draining from your neck into astarion's warm, wanting mouth makes your head spin. "you shouldn't kill me yet."
"and why is that?" he humors you once more, pulling back long enough to look you in the eye. you reach up to caress his cheek— trembling and tender. surprise flits across his face. his hand comes up to steady yours, as if on instinct.
"i haven't done everything i want to do yet." you struggle to focus. his features distort in your vision, but his cheek remains firm under your touch.
"oh? and what would those things be?"
"wanna be kissed." something about the blood loss makes the truth feel less pathetic to you. "wanna be fucked. wanna feel wanted. you probably don't get it. you're too pretty to understand."
there's a lengthy pause as your eyes flutter shut. your eyelids are simply too heavy to open. for a second, you think that maybe you've died already, but the pressure of his hand over yours keeps you clinging to life.
"...i can't do this to you." astarion huffs, as if the vestigial remnants of his moral code have personally slighted him. "you poor, pathetic thing. the only things you crave are simple touches?"
"'s not simple. 's everything. everything i've ever wanted."
"kissing and fucking aren't all that they're made out to be, darling." for the first time since you met him, astarion's voice loses that charming, snake-oil quality. "and feeling wanted doesn't always feel good, you know."
"i don't know," you say.
"hmm?" distantly, you feel surprisingly strong arms rearranging your limbs. a skin full of cool water appears at your lips, and a blanket is drawn carefully over your prone form.
"i don't know how it feels to be wanted." you pry open your eyes with herculean strength. astarion's face swims before you, sharp angles and delicate features highlighted by the light of the moon. "will you show me, astarion?"
"no." he smiles, and something shutters closed in his expression— some hint of vulnerability that you hadn't even realized he'd revealed until it was gone. his smile is an ugly, tight-lipped thing, so removed from how enchanting he normally is— he's dark and bitter as the coffee grounds you've squirreled away in your pack. you're vaguely aware of a new tension in his shoulders, a new set to the corners of his mouth. he's scared, you realize, the epiphany coming through a fog of semi-consciousness. what does he have to be scared of? you're the one who initiated, you're the one who put your weakly-beating heart on the line. "i'm afraid the cost of my love isn't a price you'd be willing to pay."
"that's okay," you say, letting your eyes close once again. exhaustion reigns over your bones, flows through your veins. somehow, rejection manages to hurt worse than imminent death. "thank you, though."
"for what, darling?"
for listening. for not laughing. for being kinder in his rejection than anyone has before.
"for not killing me," is what you finally settle on.
astarion does laugh, then, and that strange tension around him dissipates. "you really are too precious. here, my darling. take this as a consolation prize."
you're too tired to say you don't want a consolation prize— you've been the consolation prize your whole life. warm breath ghosts over your skin, and a soft pair of lips brushes over your forehead, your cheeks. there's a pause, then the barest hint of pressure over the corner of your mouth.
"there." astarion's voice filters into your brain from far, far away. "now you can't say you've never been kissed."
tagging: @enchantedforest-network
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contents: neuvillette x gn!reader, reader is very old, reader dies of old age, both neuvi and reader have made peace with reader's death, waxing poetic about water and the sea
or, the end of one life is the start of another.
it was a good life. a long life, full of light and laughter and love.
today, at the end of all days, you lay in bed, blanketed by the arms of your lover. he has not changed. not in the same ways you have. you have been weathered by the world in ways that neuvillette will never understand. but tonight, he looks to you, and you know that he knows.
"you will not pass me by like a ship in the night," he says. his hands, still so smooth, still so unblemished, cup your face. he traces gently over the deep crinkles around your eyes— a manifestation of how his love has changed you for the better. evidence of the great and unbridled joy he has gifted to you.
"i won't," you agree. it is, at once, a condemnation and a reassurance. "i remain, for now. for you. will you miss me, when i'm gone?"
"miss you?" he searches your face. you hope he sees years of contentment written in the lines of your smile. "do the clouds miss the sea?"
they do. the nature of water is to return to the sea from whence it came. the sky itself leaps to the horizons, hoping against hope to run its fingers over the cresting waves. rain is a joyful reunion, a homecoming. a melding of souls. love.
"one day, i will come to the end of my river," he says. his lips brush over your forehead— one last, fleeting blessing. "i will look for the shape of happiness, and i will find you."
when you pass, it is gently, so gently. there is always time for one last kiss.
outside, it begins to rain.
#neuvillette x reader#neuvillette angst#genshin x reader#genshin angst#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact angst#writemin!#+neuvillette
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CALM AFTER THE STORM
contents: nanami kento x gn!reader, jjk s2 spoilers (shibuya incident), hurt/comfort, reader is implied to have died years before the shibuya incident, cooking together as a love language, kissing, reunions, death
what is death if not a new beginning?
or, nanami makes his journey to the afterlife. it's not so bad.
it's strange, nanami thinks. he had forgotten what it meant to move without pain, and yet here he is, dancing without a care in the world. his joints don't crack, his knees don't ache. he could have sworn he had injured his eye, and yet, here he is, witnessing the ocean in its full, unfettered glory.
pantai cenang is beautiful. idyllic. not a curse in sight. nanami takes a moment to soak it all in. fine white sand. crystal blue water. coconut trees. there's a distinct lack of people— surprising, given how popular the beach is with tourists— but nanami knows better than to question such a blessing.
there's a little cottage in the distance, one that doesn't exist on any map. in his heart, nanami knows you're inside, humming as you wash the vegetables you'd picked from the garden. it's been too long since he's seen you, held you in his arms. months. years. his heart squeezes. ah, that familiar ache— yearning. he quickens his pace.
absence makes the heart grow fonder. in his mind's eye, you twirl in the sand with him, feet nimble. he spins, more graceful than he’s ever been. he soars. he falls. fighting is dancing in the same way that the waves batter against the shore— beauty and violence, art and destruction.
nanamin! a shout echoes across the water, and nanami lowers his arms, turning on instinct to the familiar voice. even in his retirement, it seems that he can still hear the voice of his loudest student.
ah, he's exhausted— this is what he gets for indulging in the sun. he can sense your frown already. you'd always fretted over him, all soft hands and gentle touches.
the scent of blood rises on the wind, but there is no fear. even sharks need to eat. such is the way life and death dance together.
nanamin! the voice shouts again, or maybe it’s an echo of the first call, bounding across the surf. his fatigue overwhelms him like falling in love— slow, then all at once.
he is so, so tired of fighting.
faster than he can comprehend, there’s a firm pressure against his stomach. a mosquito buzzes around his face. he swats it away idly. there’s something he’s forgetting. something important.
nanamin!
ah. that’s right. he doesn’t have to worry anymore.
“itadori,” he says, voice carrying over the waves. “you’ve got it from here.”
there’s a gut-wrenching snap in his core. it severs something vital, and yet… he’s never felt more alive. he is a hollow-boned creature, like the birds. finally, the weight of the world is no longer his to bear.
your presence calls to him, draws him in from across the beach, and he turns towards your siren’s song. his lips form the shape of your name. in the blink of an eye, his hand is on the doorknob to your cottage.
"i'm home."
you whip around so fast that nanami almost fears your neck will snap clean in two. “kento?”
“it’s me.”
there’s a split second where the world freezes. the light from the late early evening sun dances amongst dust motes. your lips part, and nanami trembles with the force of his want for you.
then, like the tide to the moon, like planets to a star, you crash together. you fly across the room into nanami’s waiting arms, two puzzle pieces finally clicking into place. when he kisses you, you taste like salt, like grief, like joy. it makes him want to kiss you more, kiss you harder, so he does.
you pull away, and nanami only just resists the urge to chase your lips.
"you're... so early. i didn't expect to see you here for a few more decades." you cup his face, fingers tracing over the familiar curves of his cheeks, his jaw. nanami turns his face into the affectionate touches.
"and leave you to eat dinner alone?" nanami leans in again, kissing the tears from your cheeks in a few quick, fluttering brushes of lips against skin. “i’m officially retired. where else would i want to be, if not with you?”
“you’re so romantic today.” there’s a choked quality to your voice.
oh, nanami thinks. it’s really been too long. “i’m romantic all the time for you.”
“i missed you.” apropos of nothing, the words tear from your chest, like you can’t hold them back anymore. your face crumples. heat pricks behind nanami’s eyes as you bury your face against his chest, frame trembling with the effort of holding back your tears. “i missed you so much.”
comfort has never been nanami’s forte, but with you, it’s as easy as breathing to hug you closer, to make soft, soothing sounds, to rub gentle circles over your back.
“i missed you, too,” he says, a confession. the world swims in his vision. he blinks rapidly. “more than you could ever know.”
he rocks you back and forth, back and forth, holding you as you shake apart in his arms. there’s no pressure to perform, no shareholders to impress, no curses to exorcise. only you, and your love, and your touch.
and he gets to have this forever.
nanami’s not sure how long you stay there, only that his skin still hungers for yours when you press a teary kiss to his cheek and maneuver out of his hold. you sniffle, wipe your eyes, and offer him a familiar apron with a watery smile. “here. you still remember how to cook, right, mr. salaryman sorcerer?”
“what are we making?” nanami takes the proffered apron. i’m the cook, it reads. he glances down at your apron, already knowing what it says. kiss the cook. the corner of his mouth twitches up.
“hainan chicken rice,” you say. “when in malaysia…”
“of course,” he says. “pass me the knife.”
it’s been a while since he’s handled a sharp blade. the handle sits in the palm of his hand— rough, worn smooth by years of use. a tool of the home. he finds that he likes the weight of it.
the rhythm of cooking is an intimate waltz. one, two, three. he crushes the garlic under the flat of his knife, then minces it. bits of garlic cling to his fingers, and he picks it off, shapes it into a pile. the papery peel is swept aside, to be returned to the earth.
the edge of his blade is used to peel ginger. short, quick strokes— not a motion wasted. when he’s done, the ginger’s aroma tickles his nose, as sharp as his knife. he slices it thinly and places it next to the garlic.
you heat oil in a pan as he works, humming a low melody. he hasn’t heard it in years, but it’s as warm and familiar as the bed you share. when the oil starts to sizzle, you add in his minced garlic, his sliced ginger. the scent spreads through the room, savory and safe.
you produce rice from a small rice cooker. it’s not ideal to use freshly cooked rice in fried rice dishes, but nanami has every confidence you’ll manage. while you stir in the chicken fat and bullion, he looks around for something else to set his blade to.
cucumbers, fresh from your garden outside. nanami taps one gently, a faint smile pulling at the edges of his lips at the hollow, satisfying thock. it’s quick work to peel them, revealing pale green flesh. it’s even quicker work to slice them. he loses himself in the task, in the comfort of your presence, and lets his muscle memory take over.
“are you using your technique on those poor cucumbers?” there’s a smile in your voice. nanami glances down at the cucumbers, and sure enough, they’re sliced in uneven fractions of 7/10.
the motions of violence are not so easily forgotten, but true peace lasts only in the memory of war. nanami gives you a small smile, presses a soft kiss to your temple, and resumes cutting his cucumbers— evenly, this time. even the sharpest of blades can be repurposed.
dinner is a quiet affair. two plates, two cups of tea, two settings at the table. conversation flows as easily as wine. your foot nudges against his calf— once, twice. he nudges back, delighting in the radiant smile that you can’t seem to hold back.
both of your plates sit empty upon the table. the last dregs of tea cool in your cups. cleaning up is quick, made quicker by long-established routine: he washes, you dry. on the last of the dishes, he leans into you— a silent request. you lean back— acquiescence.
he will never tire of touching you. instinct is a trembling little creature in his heart, and you are the soft hands that soothe him, letting him pull you flush against his chest. minutes drip into hours, and the sun begins its slow descent as he cradles you in his arms. somehow, you migrate to bed, and then everything is warmth and love and perfection.
these quiet delights, this tender intimacy— nanami revels in it, revels in this little life, this future you share.
“the sun is setting,” you murmur, a tender look in your eyes. you’re a vision painted in gold light, an angel in soft sheets. he could soak in you forever. “it’s almost time to go home.”
“is home as good as this?” he takes your hand, presses a kiss to the back of it.
“it’s better.” you slip out of bed, and he follows you outside. a gentle breeze ruffles his hair, brings him the scent of salt and the sea. the sun dips lower on the horizon, and yet, the light only brightens. it’s not harsh, but a gentle, beckoning warmth.
“are you ready, kento?”
“you’ll be with me?” it wouldn’t be a home without you.
“i will. i promise.” you take his hand, lean in, press a kiss to his cheek. tension drains from his shoulders like the low tide. a home with you is more than he could have ever dreamed of. “let’s go home.”
together, you walk into the light. neither of you look back.
tags: @angelshub @enchantedforest-network
#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami kento fluff#nanami kento angst#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk spoilers#writemin!#+nanamin
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VICARIOUSLY
contents: gepard x afab!gender neutral!reader, reader's genitalia is referred to as "clit", "pussy", and "cunt", fingering (reader receiving), pleasure dom/top!gepard, overstimulation, hints of dumbification, semi-public sex (they're in gepard's office but the door is locked)
or, when you visit gepard at work on a rare day that he's not in the field, paperwork is the last thing on either of your minds.
"feels good, baby?" gepard rubs a few gentle circles over your clit, watching with fervent adoration as you tremble under his touch. his gaze flickers up to your face, and it's so tender that you nearly forget that you're in his office, sitting on his desk with your legs spread and his hand down the front of your pants. "yeah? just like that?"
"geppie." it comes out a soft whimper, your lips struggling to form words as he slips his middle finger inside, settling his warm palm against your clit and grinding.
"you're so warm and soft inside," he says. wonder colors his voice. "oh. it's like you're sucking on me..."
sparks fly up your spine as he works you over. his fingers are thicker than yours, his palms rougher. the friction, the heat makes your head spin. it's addicting, this cocktail of pleasure and warmth.
"i've never felt like this before you. like... like i need it. like i'm desperate." he says. he captures your lips in a desperate kiss, drinking in your soft sounds as he continues to rock his hand against you. "you're so tempting, i just can't help it."
your jaw hangs slack as he grinds his palm harder against your clit. the very tip of his finger grazes over your weakest spot, deep inside.
"geppie," you cry out. he really is so good at finding all the sweet spots inside of you that turn your brain off. "'m hot, feels so hot—"
"i'm here," he says, voice faint. the evidence of your desire for him makes him weak, makes him needy, and he's not the only one. your cunt pulses around him, begging him to keep going. his breaths come out shaky. "are you going to cum?"
you nod, once, twice, doing your best to focus on his face. it's just so hard when your whole body burns with unadulterated lust. the heat is most overwhelming between your legs, where gepard's rough palm keeps it's maddening pace against your clit. your gaze slides out of focus, and your eyes roll back into your head.
"oh, god," gepard's voice cracks as your breath catches. his gaze darts between your pleasure-drunk expression and the place where his hand disappears down your pants. "oh, god. you're so good, right there, yeah, right there, let me see it, please, please—"
you tense, and the whole room tenses with you, save for the intense grind of gepard's hand against you, inside you. blood roars in your ears. your body trembles, your breaths come in quick, desperate gasps, but you can't feel any of it. all that matters is gepard touching you— the filthy rubbing, the slick, overwhelming heat.
"come on, please, please, give it to me, baby, cum, cum, cum—"
"unh—!" pleasure overwhelms you, and you tumble over the edge, lost to irresistible, incomparable ecstasy. the sheer heat of your orgasm melts your brain, makes every coherent thought leak from your spasming cunt. it's a never-ending storm of mindless, visceral pleasure, so strong that you fear you might lose yourself to it.
"too— too much—" your lips feel clumsy, swollen. you're filthy. you're depraved. you could live like this forever, a mere being of pleasure, and you would be happy.
"not enough." gepard's lips slam over yours, and any last bit of resistance you had to him turns to mush. his mouth slides against yours, drinking in every aborted gasp, and he practically fucks your throat with his tongue as his clever, steady fingers work you through the last moments of your orgasm, drawing out your bliss until the delicious pain of overstimulation begins to set in.
black dances at the edges of your vision, and you gasp wordlessly, unable to form words. throughout it all, gepard remains the one, unrelenting constant, milking your poor, drooling pussy for every twitch, every spasm, every pulse it can manage.
only when you collapse does he stop, his free hand quickly catching you and pulling you against him to rest your head against his chest. you lean against him, pliant, body trembling with exertion.
"now it's enough." there's a teasing edge to gepard's tone— one that has your thoroughly-fucked cunt giving a valiant throb. he gently, gently pulls his hand out of your pants, a tinge of leftover desire stirring at the way your pussy clings to him, even still. "was it... was it good?"
it takes more effort than you expect to focus your eyes again, but when you manage it, you give him your best incredulous look. "i couldn't even form a sentence with how hard you made me cum, and you're asking me if it was good? actually, i should be asking you— do you want me to give you a hand?"
"just making sure." he presses a kiss to the top of your head. "and no, i'm okay."
"but i didn't even touch—" your gaze trails down his body and settles on the conspicuous, growing wet spot at the crotch of his pants. "oh."
"yeah." a faint blush colors his cheeks. "oh."
"still, i should have—"
"when you feel good, it's easy," he murmurs, low and embarrassed. "i just feel so... so good when you feel good. so it's easy."
it's all you can do to keep yourself from pouncing on him and having your way with him again right then and there.
#gepard smut#honkai star rail smut#hsr smut#gepard x reader#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#writemin!#+gepard
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toji loves how he can draw the sweetest noises and cutest reactions from you with the smallest things. a single finger tracing the curve of your spine gets him a soft moan. the weight of his hand on the small of your back earns him your adoring gaze. a kiss to your inner thigh wins him a wordless, whining plea. even just a warm puff of breath against the shell of your ear receives a full-body shudder.
he plays you like an instrument, stroking and kissing and rubbing all of your favorite places to make you sing. it's a subtle art— one that's he's learned over the years he's spent loving you. he's not afraid to increase his intensity, to really set himself to the task of making you fall apart. the sounds you make when you're wrapped so achingly tight around his cock are his favorites, after all. he'll coo at you, kissing tears of overwhelmed pleasure from your cheeks, and fuck you so lovingly and so thoroughly that you have no choice but to unravel in his greedy, covetous hands.
in the after, the love in your eyes makes him feel like a god. he deserves it, doesn't he? your worship, your awe, your adoration. so long as he lives, you are his entire universe— and so, too, is he yours. and that— more than the orgasms, more than the attention, more than the afterglow— is the best part. he loves you. he loves you. he loves you.
#fushiguro toji x reader#fushiguro toji smut#writemin!#+toji#just something quick :') bc i love him :')
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MONSTER HOUSE
contents: geto suguru x gn!reader, consensual dubcon, dom/sub dynamics (feat. sub!bottom!reader), reader is called "little thing", predator/prey roleplay, fingering (reader receiving in unspecified hole), reader experiences orgasm from penetration, heavy fear play, dumbification, light mindbreak, a bit of silly!geto in the omake
NOTE: while not explicitly depicted, geto and reader practice risk-aware consensual kink. scene negotiation took place offscreen, and dialogue was loosely scripted with equal input from both reader and geto. reader's initial hesitance and fear is a planned part of their scene, but tagged dubcon since the planning is not shown on-screen. their safeword is "safeword".
there's something tantalizing about being a little scared. just a little, just for play. you know suguru would never hurt you. but god, he's hunting you, haunting you, and your body thrums with delicious anticipation at every stray thump or bump.
the floorboards creak as you approach a long, darkened hallway, burdened by the weight of gazes unseen. your breath quickens, but the shadows continue to lurk— watching, waiting. just the wind, it seems. something scatters across the floor. your heart jumps into your throat. you're stuck there in limbo, on the edge of some tall, tall cliff, and you're not ready to fall. perhaps you should make a tactical retreat.
you take one step back, then two, then—
you collide with something warm and solid, and every nerve in your body screams run! run! run! but you're frozen— a deer in headlights, feet glued to the floor. by the time you convince your feet to take a step, it’s too late— strong arms cage you against a firm chest. cold dread drips down your spine. had he really been so close to you, watching you, and you hadn't even noticed?
warm breath ghosts against the shell of your ear. "found you."
"please don't hurt me," you whimper, playing into your role for the night. arousal hits you like a truck, and a sudden gush of slick wets your thighs. despite yourself, you go pliant in their grasp. you can't help it— not when it's your hunter, your lover, your suguru. he chuffs a soft chuckle at your immediate submission, rewarding you with a soft kiss before slipping back into his persona.
"hurt you?" his hands roam over your body, pausing at the dampness between your legs. "oh, dear, is that what they've told you about me?"
"they say a monster lives here. and— and people have heard strange sounds coming from this place after dark.“
geto laughs out loud— a real one. it’s a break from character, but you guess you deserve it. the past three noise complaints you've received from the neighbors have all been your fault.
"mmm, is that so? yet, you still chose to come in. what a brave little thing i’ve found." he laves a hot, messy kiss over your throbbing pulse point. your knees turn to jelly. "surely you're not so naive to think that all ‘strange sounds‘ are only caused by pain?“
"what are you talking about—? wait, no, you don’t mean—"
"oh, but i do. i do hunt down pretty things who enter my domain, but i don't hurt them. that's too barbaric for my tastes." his hand sneaks beneath your waistband, teasing. his voice lowers, caressing your ears like crushed velvet. "no, what i like to do is play with my toys. overload them with pleasure. make them feel so good that they break."
geto flips you around, and you see his face for the first time tonight. something dark edges his expression— blood on a knife, poison in a cup— and it sets you ablaze. your poor, dripping hole clenches around nothing. "doesn't that sound... fun, little thing?"
"you’re scaring me," you whimper. a small part of you really means it. you always forget how good geto is at playing monster. his gaze is so dark, so predatory, that it nearly makes you forget that he’s only playing. a much larger part of you preens at the intensity of his attention. you spread your legs, giving him more access to your weakest, sweetest spots. fuck, you feel pathetic. you feel good. "i— i’m scared, i’m so scared—"
geto takes full advantage of your new position, immediately zoning in on the sensitive places that he knows will make your brain shut down. every move he makes is so perfectly terrifying, all sharp teeth waiting to devour you and thick fingers working to milk pleasure from your greedy body. he leans in close, watching with satisfaction as your eyes cross and your lips part. he plays with you, exploiting your weak spots and riling you up until you're practically convulsing with the need to cum before he finally, finally brushes his lips against yours.
"your fear tastes so good," he moans into your mouth, rich and smooth as chocolate. "you won't be scared for long, though. i've got you all figured out. in fact... yeah, there it is. you'll never have to be scared again. just relax, little thing. let me turn that brain right off…"
geto crooks his fingers, nudging against a rough, exquisitely sensitive spot, and sure enough, your mind turns to mush, leaving you soft and vulnerable. you melt against him, focus narrowing to the slick, filthy drag of his fingers inside of you. he’s got that smile slashed across his face— the vicious one he puts on when he knows he’s won.
he always wins, with you. and you love it. your body was made to lose to him.
“suguru, suguru, cumming—” the heat inside of you snaps all at once, and you’re flung headfirst into a sea of sensation. its waves batter your consciousness, tearing you apart and molding you to geto’s clever, unyielding fingers. your pleasure-addled mind scrambles at lucidity, but it slips through grasp like sand. all you can do is feel, and you drown in the addictive high.
“there we go,” he purrs, eyes glued to the way you cream around his fingers. he sends you soaring with pain and pleasure, makes you brainless with delicious overstimulation. he might be playing a monster, but the power he holds over you is nothing short of godly. but they’re the same, aren’t they? gods and monsters, two sides of the same coin. “let it all out. you’re going to give me more, aren’t you? you’ll give me everything.”
you nod, eyes wide and worshipful. he raises his slick-covered fingers to his lips, tasting your pleasure for himself. any lingering resistance dissolves into wretched, mindless desire, and you let yourself be devoured.
—
OMAKE
"baby, you know i love you, but your motive doesn't make any sense. why would you choose to explore this allegedly monster-infested house?" geto is a comforting weight at your back as you lounge in your bed, poring over the first draft of your scene's script.
"because you're sexy," you say without missing a beat.
"yeah, i am, but you wouldn't know that. not when you're in character."
you crane your neck to stare at him. he's being dead serious. suddenly, you feel a surge of affection for him so strong it makes you want to squeeze him until his head pops off. "i love you so much."
"i love you more," he says, leaning in to nuzzle his nose against your cheek. "but seriously. we need to figure out your character's motivation before we play. otherwise, i won't be able to make sense of the plot."
"the plot? why are we talking about plot all of a sudden? didn't we agree to make this like a scene from that hentai you like— wait a minute. does this mean— do you watch hentai for the plot?"
"..."
"suguru."
"no comment."
networks: @enchantedforest-network @angelshub
#geto suguru x you#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru smut#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#writemin!#+geto#cw dubcon#angelshubnetwork
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POST-SHOW AFTERGLOW
contents: heartsteel!shieda kayn x afab gn!reader (reader's anatomy is described using the words "pussy", "cunt", "clit", and "cervix"), bottom!reader, use of insertive sex toys by reader, kayn walks in on reader masturbating, established relationship, bedsheet banter, fingering, penis-in-vagina sex, cervix mention, light dumbification, creampie, post-coital cockwarming
watching kayn perform live never fails to get you hot and bothered. luckily, kayn is always willing to take responsibility.
or, kayn fucks reader after a heartsteel concert. it's ridiculously good.
there's a wild sort of energy that ebbs and flows around kayn post-show. adrenaline— lightning in a bottle. he's on top of the world. he'd win any fight. he's ready for anything—
his train of thought comes to an abrupt end as he nudges open the door to your bedroom, and immediately, every cell in his body is subsumed by the low-burning embers of arousal.
he is not ready for this.
blankets lay crumpled around your spread legs. you're an angel, every curve caressed by soft light, and your eyes are squeezed shut as you fuck yourself on a thick dildo.
kayn recognizes that toy. it's the one that's the closest to his size and shape. you only use it when you're feeling particularly needy for him, or when you miss him. a soft, tender ache blooms in his chest.
"kayn," you whimper, sugar sweet. you don't seem to have noticed him, lost in your own world of pleasure. "kayn, please, please, i need you, please—"
your voice breaks on a sob, and kayn's mouth goes dry. his fingers curl with the need to take.
"what a nice surprise." kayn's smirk widens into a full, cocky grin when your eyes fly open and you squeak with surprise.
"kayn!" your hands scramble to pull the toy out, and kayn greedily watches as your pretty hole gapes ever so slightly, fluttering around air. another shot of heat, straight to his cock.
"oh, don't stop on my account," kayn says. "i'm just enjoying the show."
your resultant pout creases right between your eyebrows, and he lets loose a laugh, crossing the room in three eager, bounding steps to capture your lips in a passionate kiss. his tongue flickers out, and he licks into your mouth. he loves how you melt in his arms, how you always let him in so easily. you're so perfect for him. he's just about to crawl into bed and show you just how perfect he thinks you are when—
"shower first," you murmur against his lips, as if you hadn't been making a mess of the sheets for hours before he came home.
"but—" kayn knows exactly what you're about to say. he's got "dirty" clothes on, so he can't get on the bed, which is "clean". but can anyone really blame him when you look so tempting, so obscene, that his brain hurts from how hard his cock is?
"kayn—"
"hear me out." he presses a few sweet, pleading kisses to your cheeks, relishing in the way you melt under his easy affection.
"...fine."
"you're so beautiful, baby. look at you all fucked out. do you really expect me to make it a whole shower without jerking off? and if i jerk off, i'll cum, and there won't be anything left in the ol' sacks to fill you with."
you raise an eyebrow, clearly not impressed. damn it. looks like kayn has to bring out the big guns.
"...i'll wash the sheets after we're done," kayn adds. "so they'll be clean again."
"you really want me so bad you'd do laundry for me?" you swoon dramatically— a feat when you're already laying in bed. "is this what it means to be loved?"
"you're a menace," he says. it can't be legal for you to be both cute and devastatingly sexy at the same time. fuck, he loves you so much he swears he'll explode with it. his chest tightens. his fists clench. he can't stand it.
he pounces onto you, heart singing at the elated little yelp you let out as he presses a flurry of kisses to your face.
"i love you," kayn growls, incongruously aggressive for how sweet the words are. his fingers find their way between your thighs, rubbing where you want it the most. he dips inside, just a little, but you tense as if he's shoved all five (and a half!) inches inside of you at once.
"love you— love you too, kayn—"
fuck, he could listen to you saying his name just like that for years, and he'd never go soft.
"relax for me, baby." he stretches you in gentle, practised movements, head spinning as you obey, body going pliant under his covetous hands. you're so perfect for him, already soft and wet from your earlier stint with your toy. your lips find his weak spot— the tender patch of skin right between the junction of his neck and jaw— and he groans, feeling a little insane as you rock back against his fingers, dripping sweet and sticky like warm honey.
"i can't hold back much longer," he says, voice strangled.
"so don't." your breath catches as the tip of his finger brushes against your sweet spot, so he does it again, just to hear you gasp. he could get lost in this, this pleasure of playing your body like the finest of instruments, pulling sound after needy, dripping sound from your pretty mouth.
"kayn— kayn, please, stop teasing, don't hold back, please, i need you—" the sheer desperation in your voice makes kayn's blood sing with pleasure, and he gently removes his fingers from your aching hole, much to your chagrin. you line up the head of his cock with your entrance, shuddering as it pulses a thick glob of pre-cum over your skin. "inside, inside, please—"
-
there's nothing quite like the initial stretch of kayn's cock as he bullies his way inside of you. he's so thick, and the way he's got you folded makes him feel even bigger. your jaw hangs slack, every nerve trembling with anticipation.
the tip of his cock nudges inside, and you both let out twin moans. your cunt is hungry for it. desperate, even— your gaze goes hazy and unfocused as your pussy sucks softly at his tip.
"so fucking good," he groans. "how are you so fucking good every time?"
if you could speak, you'd say that you could ask him the same thing, but any semblance of coherent speech is knocked from the forefront of your mind as he eases deeper into you. every additional inch of his hot, throbbing cock only serves to make your mind go blank with pleasure. your eyes roll back, flutter shut.
"fuuuck, that's it, baby. feels good, doesn't it?" kayn shudders as he bottoms out. the very tip of his cock kisses a spot deep inside, so sensitive that it sends a thrill up your spine. "there it is— there's that weak spot. yeah, let me use it against you, baby. 'm gonna fuck all that resistance right out of your pretty hole..."
he rolls his hips once, twice, giving a few deep, experimental thrusts. true to his word, his cock massages over your sweet spot. you can't fight the onslaught of sensation, and even if you could, you wouldn't want to. it's so, so good— too good to resist, too good to fight. pleasure melts your brain, turning every coherent thought you might have had to gooey bliss.
your jaw hangs slack. your head spins. pleasure curls around your limbs, pulling you to new heights of mindless need.
"yeah, that's right. this is what you needed, isn't it?"
you don’t have to reply— the answer is written in the slight crossing of your eyes, the subtle trembling of your ribcage, the thin line of saliva that drips from the corner of your mouth. heat builds in your core, spreading like fire across your skin, and you let loose a long moan.
“kayn…” you struggle to make eye contact, lucidity slipping through your fingers with every devastating thrust.
“no thinking,” he says. his thumb finds your clit. the added stimulation makes it all too easy to obey. any semblance of logical thought dissipates into hazy pleasure. you wouldn’t be surprised if your brain was leaking straight out of your dripping cunt.
“no thinking,” you repeat dumbly, looping your arms around his neck and pulling him close. your fucked-out gaze meets his, and he curses under his breath, cock pulsing inside of you. through it all, he continues rubbing those maddening, mind-melting circles on your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
heat envelopes you, swallows you whole and digests you, transforming you into a being of need and pleasure. your nerves sing with molten arousal. every touch, every breath, every heartbeat only sends you spiraling further and further into the depths of debauchery.
“that’s it, baby, let me make you feel good, yeah, yeah—” kayn babbles, his hips stuttering out of rhythm. it makes his cock slide in that much deeper, makes his thumb slip just right against the hood of your clit, and— and—
you fall apart on his cock with a wail, unable to resist the overwhelming pleasure. it burns through you, sets the stars ablaze behind your eyelids. your sanity shatters as you all but convulse, gorging yourself on decadent sensation.
thick, creamy warmth floods your insides, and you practically purr at the way the tip of kayn’s cock kisses the sensitive mouth of your cervix. he’s still mumbling mindless praises against the soft skin of your neck even as he fucks you through both of your orgasms. his voice takes on an edge of wretched desperation. “so good, so good, it hurts, baby, hurts good, i— i— fuck…”
he collapses over you, sheathing himself balls-deep with a groan. the last dregs of his cum drool from his tip, dribbling over your sensitive walls. your pussy flutters around him in response, hungry for every last drop of him, and he nearly whimpers at the added sensation. pain and pleasure swirl around you in a heady cocktail of hormones as you come down from your highs together.
when kayn kisses you, it feels right— the natural product of the raw desire that connects you. his lips move against yours sweetly, softly, and he holds you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. the afterglow is made for kissing, for heavy petting, for the cooling of sweat and softening of breaths.
"what was that all about?" kayn murmurs in the hazy quiet, pulling you closer to him. you grumble a bit as his soft cock shifts inside of you, threatening to fall out, and he makes a soothing little noise, ignoring the pricks of painful overstimulation and focusing on keeping you nice and warm and full.
"what was what all about?"
"don't play, baby. what had you so needy tonight?"
"...ah." your face heats up, and you bury your nose in his chest. still, it doesn't muffle your next words. "you looked really, really good on stage tonight. i couldn't stop looking at your stupid bulge through your stupid leather pants."
the honestly is unexpected enough to subvert kayn's knee-jerk instinct to be insufferable and smug. he gapes at you. "you're so fucking cute."
“mhm,” you hum in agreement. “and you’re beautiful. so we match.”
there’s a frazzled sort of silence as kayn short-circuits from the praise. for someone who presents with such an inflated ego, his reaction to genuine compliments is nothing short of charming.
"so... the sheets?" you break the silence, only half-joking.
kayn groans. “i’ll wash them tomorrow. let me enjoy this, baby.”
“i’m holding you to it.” you bury your face in his chest, heart melting a bit as his lips brush over the crown of your head. dirty sheets or not, there’s nowhere else you would rather be than here, limbs tangled with his, soaking in your shared pleasure.
tags: @enchantedforest-network @angelshub
#shieda kayn smut#shieda kayn x reader#heartsteel kayn smut#heartsteel kayn x reader#league of legends smut#league of legends x reader#heartsteel smut#heartsteel x reader#writemin!#+kayn
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contents: miguel o'hara x gn!reader, suggestive content, horny/seductive!miguel, dirty talk, ogling
a/n: i am objectifying this man and his tits and his ass and his thighs
let it be known that miguel o'hara is a beautiful man. it's an undeniable fact. the multiverse is real, the sky is only blue sometimes, and miguel o'hara is beautiful.
"miguel," you call out to him, eyes tracing over the broad expanse of his back. his muscles flex, rippling under scarred skin. you're entranced by the sight, watching with wide eyes as he finishes taking his shirt off.
"like what you see, mi vida?" he smirks, flashing the barest hint of a fang. "it's all yours."
confidence suits him. it oozes from his presence like juice from an overripe peach. when he's focused on you, and only you, he's sweetly seductive, softly cajoling, and you're helpless to resist his magnetic draw.
"just come here already," you fight back a pout, but by miguel's low chuckle, you know you're unsuccessful in hiding your desperation for him.
"i'm here, baby. come on, spread those pretty legs for me." he climbs into bed with you and guides your thighs around his waist. you let him adjust your position easily. even that gentle touch of his hands stokes the molten heat in your belly, and you let out a low pathetic whine. "yeah, i know. you're a desperate thing, aren't you? i can feel you throbbing."
miguel leans in close, blanketing your body with his heat. his leaking cock pulses more precum into his boxers, and you nearly whine with how badly you want to feel it against your skin. "let me fuck you tonight, yeah? let me use you."
his lips graze the shell of your ear, and you shudder at the sensation of his fangs pricking gently at the sensitive spot.
"i'll make you cum over and over and over, until you can't think," he murmurs, low and deep and dark— a promise. the words drip down your spine, adding kindling to your arousal. "i'll make you a vessel for pleasure and pleasure alone. will you let me?"
"yes, i—" lust makes you a dizzy, silly creature, and you're suddenly overwhelmed with adoration for this beautiful, impossible man. "i'll always let you. i always want you."
the grin he gives you in response is nothing short of feral. "excellent," he purrs. "i promise i'll make it worth your while."
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