#But if you'd like any particular ones tagging

[junkanimate]

EHY I'VE BEEN READING A LOT OF FANFICTIONS LATELY

I know, who would have guess?? Anyway I wanted to send some appreciation all around to some of the fanfics I've read, because writers need some more appreciation in general.

so, in no particular order:

✨Here's a list of fanfics I've read/I'm reading that I think they're pretty good✨

Solid Stone Turns To Clay by @randyzorra - MK fic

A solid Johnshi fic set in a pirate au, I'm absolutely obsessed with it. It's a beautiful slow burn, where Johnny is a disgraced bounty hunter who's trying to regain his fame by stealing The Shadow, legendary cursed ship. Ship that so happens to have a certain someone as her captain. Honestly not only I love the romance, but also the friendship between Johnny and Kung Lao and Johnny and Baraka.

Beware that this fic is tagged as explicit, so check the tags carefully

Back There by houndhead - MK fic

Ehy, have you ever thought that Raiden wasn't there when the others went to Outworld to find Shang Tsung? Yeah what if they never told him what happened back there because of good ol' classic trauma? I'm in love with this concept and houndhead explores it in a very interesting way, showing us how each character would act after experiencing what happened at the lab. I also really love how the characters interact with each other, in the last chapter Tanya and Tomas are just perfect.

Raise The Blade (Make The Change) by cherrycola94 - MK fic

A very fun Johnshi fic that's written a little bit like a script, it has some added scene set before the game, some exploration of the canon through a Johnshi lense, ad finally it continues as a post canon, with a very fun story. While I was reading it I could see in my head the scene perfectly, like it was actually a movie. The second chapter has an AMAZING SCENE, like I was so in love that I have a wip of that scene. I should come back and finish it honestly. The new chapter had exactly the kind of scene I was craving for recently, I'm so happy they wrote it!

But I lowered my sword when you held me and swore (you'd stay, stay, stay) by @necromanticzz - MK fic

It's a johnshi fic with a Kenshi pov, where Kenshi has so many walls up doesn't want any help but Johnny just seems to be able to go through them without any problems. Honestly I also advice the other fic necromanticzz wrote about them, the way Kenshi gets chracterized in both of them is just *chef's kiss* perfect, beautiful, amazing. The two fics are just my favourite in the way Kenshi is written, applause all around, love it.

Koffee Shop Kombat by @loujitsushotsoup - MK fic

Because a classic coffee shop au is always needed. We have multiple ships, different writing styles between chaptes, changing with which character's pov we are following, and I love the creativity that was put in it. You maybe saw this post where I drew one of the scenes in this fic, so YOU KNOW that I mean it when i say that I love this fic. And I'm a big sucker for coffee shops as a setting, really love them in real life as well.

Cole's Chilli Recipe by @before-time-had-a-name - Ninjago fic

Another fic where I drew one of the scenes and it's because it deserves it. It's a lostshipping fic, very sweet, very cozy, honestly Cole and Geo make me incredibly emotional everytime and this fic also straight up picked me up and squashed me. I saw in some of the reblogs on my post that people went to check out the fic and I'm so happy about it because they deserve his work to be checked out. And honestly if I can give her more spotlight I will take the chance. Go check out this fic, it's very cool.

Here Comes Casey Jones by Invader_Sam - TMNT MM fic

Very sweet rasey fic that takes place post movie, with the turtles going to highschool and Raph meeting for the first time Casey Jones. What can I say? I just really love Rasey, and I love they're both clearly crushing on each other but they're not really saying it. And the fact that there's no unecessary teenage angst, they just really like each other, and I love that for them ❤

Think Of It As War Paint by less_depresso_more_espresso - TMNT 2012 fic

Another Rasey one, short and sweet, where both of them honestly are giving so much gender in my humble opinion. It's hard to explaning it without just saying all the fic, so we could say it's about them just chilling on a roof.

A Garden Across Our Collarbone by PittedPeaches - LMK fic

I think everyone and their mom already know this fic, and if you don't it would be my honor to talk to you about it. This for me is THE spicynoodle fic, it was one year of my life and honestly at the end of it I cried. This is a soulmate au, where demons sometimes have soulmates, and when that happen it's like they share skin, so they can write stuff on their body and it will appeared on the skin of their soulmate. It mostly starts like a rewriting of seson 1-2-3 by Red son's pov with this new dynamic, and then it becomes a new original timeline. The way this fic is everything to me, every chapter was an incredible experience, I fell in love with this fic at every chapter. So many beautiful scenes, written so beautifully, as I said this fic was 1 YEAR of my life. It was also a very difficult year, and I'm honestly so happy that this fic was there for that time of my life.

Desde el Principio by ShippingMyWorld - Nicktoons United fic

Okay idk If you saw me reblogging a bunch of Nicktoons fanart like two days ago, but just so you know I'm totally going into the rabbit hole of this fandom and I will be lost for a while. Now, this is a Danny Fenton/Manny Rivera fic, the tag has only two fics and both of them are from this writer.

I wish I had this commitment in my life, to just being THE ONLY one creating a specific content for something and still having the motivation of doing it

I read this fic last night, I finished it at 5 a.m. and I do not regret it at all, this was amazing

I actually recommend reading both fics because they are very good, I'm giving a shout out to this one because I think it's the one that made the biggest impact to me personally. ShippingMyWorld you did it, you converted me, I ship this now.

And that's the list, thank you so much to every fanfic writers that give us such amazing art everyday, you're the backbone of fandom!

#mortal kombat #lmk #tmnt #lego ninjago #nicktoons #always wanted to do a masterpost of fic recommendations and I finally did it #they're clearly more mk themed #because it's the only tag I've been browsing for a while #and if you see that all of them are tagged as johnshi no you didn't #it's not like I have the johnny cage/kenshi takahashi tag open 24/7 #fic rec

[windsweptinred]

Hey, had this image of Morpheus as a massive Raven hovering in the air behind Daniel in my head and thought you would maybe like it as well. Maybe I'll draw it one day but until then I've written it. Hope you enjoy this :)

The dark entity rises in front of Dream while he watches with neither anger nor fear only a hint of curiosity on his fine boyish features.

"Now Dreamlord what shall I do to you, after I’ve slayed your oh so loyal pet?" The entity gestures dismissively to the bloody body of the Corinthian lying on the ground. "You are just a child after all nothing like your predecessor. Not even worse a challenge, letting others fight your fights."

Dream’s lips twitch. "I apologize for the transgressions of my nightmare, he is sometimes a bit overeager." A short glance to the side confirms that said nightmare is already getting up again while cursing quite colorfully under his breath. "But if you rather want to measure yourself with my predecessor than me I can certainly ask him if he would be willing to do so. But I should warn you he won't be in the best mood. As far as I know, he had a date planned for this evening."

"What?" The entity frowns in confusion. Dream however closes his eyes and hums under his breath. The Corinthian has by now staggered to his lord's side complaining about his ruined suit. After a moment the new Dreamlord opens his eyes again and smiles a little bit brighter now. "He will be here shortly." The smile gets a little mean tilt. "I hope you don't mind his form though, he was indeed not pleased to be interrupted."

Before the entity can answer a strong wind sweeps over the area. Sand and little stones swirl around and lift into the air. The wind picks up more and more before a huge black shape dives out of the sky.

With one powerful beat of its massive wings, it stops short of touching the ground. Black as night it hovers behind the young man, making his white curls and clothes dance in the gust of its beating wings.

Dream smiles up at the monstrous raven, the stars in his eyes reflecting back at him from the dark ones of the beast.

"I'm sorry for the interruption of your evening but this guest here thought you would be a worthier challenge than me," the young man says with a beatific smile.

A deep rumbling scratching sound, a grotesque rendition of a chuckle, comes from the raven. "Then he must not know who he faces."

"It appears to be so. But perhaps he would like to compare, if you would like to join me?"

Again the rumbling scratching chuckle from the raven, "With pleasure. Let us show him the old and new terror of Nightmare. He may decide afterward which was more to his liking."

The Corinthian scoffed, "Sure you haven't gone soft in your retirement Morpheus?"

The raven turns his massive head towards the nightmare. "You are welcome to judge as well, little nightmare. Though I do not think this will take long." With that the raven turns to the entity in front of them. It seems to flinch when the dark eyes fix it in place. "Not long indeed. Shall we, my dear successor?"

"After you, Morpheus," the young man in white says, smile still on his soft lips, though as he turns to the entity, sharp teeth seem to glint behind them.

Just Morpheus and Daniel tag teaming and completely obliterating whoever thought to stand in their way. Morpheus would be so offended on Daniel's behalf here. How dare anyone think his successor would not be better than him. 

Btw no idea what the situation with Morpheus here is, he is retired but can still visit the dreaming and be either nightmare or dream, really no idea, only had the image and no context XD

Anon this is glorious! I cannot express what an honour and delight it was to find this waiting in my ask box!

I love how you captured Daniel, the 'boyish' sweetness with something decidedly more sinister lurking beneath the surface. He's so assured in this and it's sublime. The way his challenger uses Morpheus as a goad, but Daniel just shrugs it off in a, 'Well, it's your funeral' kind of way. 😅

I absolutely adored the relationship between Morpheus and Daniel. I think so often, we (myself included) picture their relationship as an imbalanced mentor/ student or retired!human/Endless one. But here, they have such a fist bump, we got this moment. They've got a perfect equilibrium in power and relationship and I love it! And Morpheus being offended on Danny's behalf. My heart! 💖💖💖

And the Corinthian rushing in there like a protective attack dog. Even though he knows Dream can more then handle the situation. Because ofcourse he would. And I think I'm now going to have to offically headcanon Cori getting a cheeky one liner in about retirement/here's the old guard/OK boomer whenever he meets Morpheus. 🤣

Hmmm, I've always liked to picture the relationship between Daniel and retired! Morpheus being more fluid. Almost a ying yang in that they have a little of each other in them. There's no saying Morpheus can't still tap into a little Endless in the Dreaming, while Daniel can tap into a little humanity in the Waking. Especially in regards to your fic, I love to think the links not entirely severed.

Once again thank you so much for this! I can't express how happy I was to read it. If you ever do illustrate it, please let me know!

#dream of the endless #morpheus #daniel hall #the corinthian #the sandman #Fic rec #Cause it's heartwarmingly perfect #Asks #Anon I was definitely picturing my own ships while reading this #But if you'd like any particular ones tagging #Just let me know

[meyerlansky]

interesting thing i'm chewing on about astarion and the rest of the party:

the stuff tav talks with him about stays WAY more private than basically every other conversation the party characters have, whether with tav or with each other. gale talks to mystra in a little bubble that's just the two of them, no tav, no one else? the whole party knows what he said (or didn't say) in that conversation. wyll changes the terms of his pact with mizora? even the newest recruits have an opinion about what he chose.

but no one has any of that relatively surface-level information about astarion—except the player character—despite the conversations happening in the same camp[s], with presumably the same amount of privacy, as every other companion conversation. DEEP into act iii, shadowheart is still making digs about him eating people, even though he tells tav in act i that he's never had sentient blood until the events of the game. jaheira calls him a slut when they're talking about being more comfortable in the city's back streets than in the polished touristy areas, despite the player knowing that the LAST thing he wants is to be seen as a sex object. he doesn't correct any of them, either. arguably he leans into it, which makes sense, considering he does the same thing in act i—before he trusts the player character enough to drop the mask.

that's not even getting into how the tadpole mind meld stuff plays in—either everyone is notably respectful of his boundaries [which, lmao. unlikely, considering no one respects his boundaries without a fight.] and doesn't go poking around in his head, OR he can somehow keep anyone trying out.

i dunno. it's interesting. it's an interesting writing and characterization choice, especially since it seems like it's ONLY astarion keeping the entire rest of the party at arms' length. he just seems so isolated, except for tav, and i'm feeling some kind of way about it.

#kara plays baldur's gate 3 #astarion meta? on my blog? it's more likely than you'd think #i have more tbh this is just striking me every time i get even a little bit of lower city banter with him #SH in particular Will Not cut him any slack #little bit of pot-meeting-kettle there ngl #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #we're gonna risk the main tags on this one!

[multi-lefaiye]

so. for the song ask game. Eden is clearly depressed cause. Achillies come Down we all know. but also has done something bad to make people turn on him, or some kind of negative thing he did, he may have not done it on purpose but i am basing this off of Good For You. Get this man some therapy pls. but also also guilt mayhaps? mayhaps the depression is a mixture of many things including guilt over something hes done

hello yes thank u for the ask game <3

oh yeah you're so right. eden is such a depressed little asshole. he needs therapy, and maybe he'll get some at some point in the campaign! though i don't think it'd be an easy process because i think he'd be taken aback that he has to actually tell his therapist about his problems for them to be able to help. he'll get therapy, but he'll die before admitting that he needs it.

hehe i'm glad you took Good For You into account b/c honestly like. the situation isn't the same as what's presented in the song, but it's the best representation i've found via music of how eden's personal relationships were all fucking destroyed by the time the campaign started. i will say, he didn't intentionally drive everyone away! not to say he never did anything wrong, but his determination to prove himself and accomplish his very single-minded goal is what ultimately destroyed these relationships and left everyone to leave him.

i don't think eden feels consciously like he's done anything wrong, but he also definitely struggles with a lot of guilt. however, at the point where the campaign begins, his guilt is mostly centered around the fact that he feels like he's never been enough for anyone, and he feels guilty that he wasn't able to prove himself and be accepted for who he is. (of course, there's something to be said for the fact that eden's perception of how others perceive him is uh... not exactly accurate.)

he also has a lot of guilt regarding his relationship with his younger brother, which is one of many relationships that fell to the wayside in his desire to prove himself. eden is a very protective older brother, but his pride and his desire to be better and prove himself ended up taking precedence. surely that won't bite him in the ass later! (it absolutely will)

#talk to the bunnykitty #ask game #oc ask game #eden linnaeus #i tried to think of a fun tag for you but brain is Mushie Mush #so if you have any one in particular you'd like lmk!!! #if not tho that's ok! #anyway i am rotating eden in my mind #into the microwave he goes

[dduane]

Had an idea you might be able to use for something: Klingon Soap Operas.

(sigh)

Thanks for the thought. I appreciate your kindness!

But unfortunately, because you've sent me the idea and I've read it, I can now not use it, ever. No matter how much I might like to.

This isn't about you, you understand. And in its way it probably seems like a cruel paradox. You were only trying to be helpful! But if I was working on something for Trek and this concept came up even in casual discussion, I would be honor-bound (and contractually required) to inform them that the idea had come to me from a reader or fan. And then—rightly, from their point of view—they would forbid me to use it, because the idea's originator might some day, despite all their friendly intentions now, sue them over it. And the evidence that I was at fault would be easy to obtain. Sending a DM on any major platform generates an electronic "paper trail" that will confirm its target has opened and read the message in question. And that electronic record can be subpoenaed and submitted as evidence, and would stand up in court.

"Oh, come on, who'd do a thing like that, what are the odds...?" people will say. But it's not generally known that I've already been involved in a high-stakes lawsuit in which someone tried to sue Mattel over material I wrote when developing the initial form of the "Barbie: Fairytopia" universe (and the first Fairytopia film) for them. I'd never so much as met or communicated with the person suing them, had never read even a word of their work... but they still went to great trouble and expense attempting to prove that I'd had access to their material and used it without permission.

Mattel won the suit (as I'd frankly been expecting: the attorney handling their defense was one of the most expert IP lawyers in the US). But it gave me the chills... and made it clear how very wrong things could go, and the kind of damage that could be done to my career and my personal life, if I even accidentally used ideas from unauthorized sources.

Seriously, folks. I know you all mean well! But please don't make me tap the sign. DO NOT SEND ME STORY IDEAS, no matter how vague or general or unformed they may be. To do so is to absolutely guarantee that they will never, ever happen.* (And in my own universes, your innocently-meant suggestion could mean that neither you or anyone else will ever see that particular Young Wizards or Middle Kingdoms plot, no matter how much you'd like to... because I take this stuff seriously.)

...Thanks, all.

*This is also why I don't read fanfic set in my universes. Which you also shouldn't send me: please and thank you.

ETA: I would really, really appreciate it if y'all would refrain from giving @eldritchcatpossumamalgam grief in the tags. They made an honest, well-intentioned mistake, that's all, and they don't deserve to be personally raked over the coals for it. (And any of you who think I would derive any kind of satisfaction from that happening plainly don't know me very well.) So thanks in advance for your cooperation.

#fanfic #story ideas #Don't. #Just... #you know... #DON'T. #(thanking you)

[devourable]

⚘ the boys next door

sfwish, mdni | tags ; poly!male yanderes x gn reader (no prns used but 'you'), manipulation, yan behavior, slight fetishization of virginity

originally this was just gonna be one character so thank mazzy for convincing me to make him a poly duo instead lmfao. ik i have things to finish but like,,, boys 🫶

not too proud of this one so ill probs revise it or make a part two at a l8r time when im feeling less rusty

the boys next door were the two that everyone knew of as a pair.

sebastian and tobias grew up together, learned together, played together, and shared absolutely everything practically since they were born. they were what people thought of when the words 'best friends' came to mind.

nothing could or would ever come between the two boys, everyone said.

so it was no shock that when you came in and quite literally got between them — by virtue of moving into the vacancies that separated their homes — their instant mutual attraction to you would do nothing but strengthen the bond between them.

it was odd. any additions to their relationship was unheard of, but...

the boys next door shared everything. you didn't think that'd exclude you, did you?

toby and sebastian were quick to befriend you when you entered their life. you were around their age, practically the only other child in the area at that; but unlike the children at school who they'd turn away from in favor of each other, they readily made you part of their dynamic.

they didn't quite understand the feelings you gave them at first, they were too young to. all they really knew is that they liked being around you, they liked talking about you, and they wanted you to themselves.

when you were young, everything became about you. their favorite games involved them being your loyal knights, or bodyguards, or any other role that involved protecting you from whatever threat their little minds could imagine up.

and when you grew tired of playing the damsel in distress? they were fine with it. whatever you wanted from them, you got. sebastian's gaming console was practically yours with how much he pushed you to play on it. toby would beg his parents to get him any toy he'd seen you show interest in; and he'd always eventually get them for you.

they didn't want you to ever be bored around them. you'd always have a good time on their watch, and they spoiled you relentlessly to the best of their abilities.

you were theirs, now! and you took care of what was yours, no matter what. that's what both of them were taught.

they grew up with you. learned with you. played with you, and of course, they shared you — even as the three of you grew up.

everyone around you saw how much they adored you, too. when asked, the two boys would proclaim how they'd both marry you in the future. it was so cute! no one saw an issue with how they always took up as much time and attention as they could from you. or how you never really seemed to be able to make friends with other kids at your school...

you had your best friends, so it didn't matter. they were all you needed.

the pair grew to love their constant close proximity to you. it ensured that they'd know what was going on in your life at all times as you grew and developed. when you weren't all hanging out together, it wouldn't be unusual for the pair to simply watch your home from their windows, glimpsing into your windows to watch you go about your life.

you were turning into a fine young adult. but you still needed their protection! they both easily surpassed you in size as you all grew up — sebastian in particular, who's height was staggering compared to both you and toby. he liked the edge it gave him, and how intimidating he could be when needed. tobias didn't have that advantage, but everyone liked him enough to respect you as his territory anyway. you were so small and sweet, what if someone saw you the way they did? they couldn't have that, they had no choice but to keep you to themselves.

it felt like you always had at least one of the two at your side at all times. so much so that it felt odd when you were without either of them. sebastian and toby being by your side was as natural as breathing and you grew to never really question their behavior.

they were just making sure you were okay when they insisted on keeping you company when you were home alone. when toby took your first kiss, it was because it only made sense — it should go to someone you trust and care about, right? and when you told the two that you were still a virgin well into adulthood (which they knew, of course), they insisted on being your first.

they knew you better than anyone, they'd know how to make you feel good. and who better to give your virginity to than your best friends?

getting to claim your body, inside and out, was one of the best moments of their lives. no one would ever get to have you the way they did.

no matter what you'd do, where you'd go, you'd always be effected by them in some way — and that's exactly how they wanted it. they'd always be your first best friends, your first boyfriends, your first everything. and you'd always be theirs.

the boys next door would always be entangled in your life. but you wouldn't have it any other way, would you?

they know you better than anyone, after all.

#🍀 the neighbors #sebastian lee #tobias lovell #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere boy #yandere boys #poly yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere male #yancore #yandere male x reader #yandere oc #yandere x darling #yandere writing #yandere fic #yandere x oc #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines

[angelltheninth]

Saw your inbox opened and I have never touched the ask button so fast in my life lol!

May I request smut scenario for Dick x fem!reader x Jason where the boys got hit by Ivy's sex pollen and fem!reader (also a hero) being a good friend *helped* them with their problems *cough* pls? And then, at the end, maybe confession of romantic feelings between them UwU? Your choice in choosing kinks!

Srroy if my English sounds weird. It's not my native language.

This reminded of of the Harley Quinn episode but more kinky.

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Fem!Reader x Jason Todd

Tags: nsfw, smut, friends to lovers, confession, threesome, sex pollen, double creampie, friendly competition, degradation, praise, dirty talk, neediness, grinding, clit stimulation

Word count: 1.1k

A/N: Definitely not something I would ever want to happen. Nope.

All three of you have been warned about the pheromones and their effects. This mission should have been over and done with quickly, but your recklessness made it a bit more... hard. For Dick and Jason in particular. They took the hit for you, they were the ones who were keeping you sandwiched between their hard bodies and hard cocks, Dick kissing your lips, Jason behind you, both of them grinding their hard cocks against you.

"Careless." Dick mumbled against your lips, his hand shoved down your pants and rubbing your pussy over your panties. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not." Jason laughed behind you, his gloved hands on your hips, his hips unapologetically grinding against you, "You're too sweet for this. Helping us out and all. But fuck... I can't say that I'm sorry. Just keep between us. I don't wanna see Dick's dick."

"Go fuck yourself." You sucked on his middle finger as soon as he put it up to Jason.

"Nah. She's doing a great of job of that. Aren't you sweetheart?" You groaned when Jason slapped your ass playfully. "Fuck. That was a nice sound. Sorry but I'm not waiting anymore. Unlike rule boy over there, I ain't gonna pretend I don't wanna fuck you." Jason's hands pushed his pants and your leggings down, his cock rubbing, gathering wetness between your pussy lips and smearing it across his cock. "Wet little pussy, all ready for me."

You were looking forward, into Dick's beautiful blue eyes but your hips bucked down against Jason. You were conflicted between the two men, you always were. Being with them felt good, having their attention felt good, now it was your turn to make them feel just as good.

"I can help you both." You whimpered as you pressed your lips against Dick's. "I can take both your cocks." You weren't so sure, just Jason's felt so thick, but you'd make them fit. They were the ones suffering.

"You're welcome to try." Jason was always so cocky when talking to you. He wanted to fuck you way before this. Dick on the other hand was more reserved.

His face was pink with blush, his eyes almost guilty as they looked at you. He wanted you too, but was afraid to say anything.

"It's okay. You- ah!" Before you could tell him anything Jason decided to be a jerk and push his cock inside you. "Jason, you fucking idiot." He laughed at your insult. You could call him any name under the sun as long as you kept taking his cock like you did. The fast slapping noises made it hard to focus but you forced yourself to.

You grabbed Dick's cheeks and pulled him in for a rough kiss. "I-"

"Don't apologize. If... if Jason gets to fuck me, then you should too." You tried to convey to him how much you wanted him too.

"Yeah, Dick. Come on, are you really gonna make a lady beg? Look at her!" Jason's barking laughter echoed loudly in your ears as you felt his hands grab your thighs and pull you up, your back leaning against his chest. You almost screamed at how deep his cock was hitting at this changed angle, his balls slapping against you with every thrust. "Bet you anything she's thought about this. She's squeezing so much, like a fucking slut. But if you don't want her then I'll use her up all on my own."

His words definitely got under his frienemy's skin. Dick pressed to your front, his cock pulsing over your clit, his hands slipping to your ass. "I can't. Not unless I say this." He leaned forward and ghosted his lips against yours. "I love you. I've always loved you, ever since I first saw you I wanted you."

"I love you too." His blush spread further as he rolled the tip of his cock over your clit and then pushed it against your already full pussy. "It's okay. It's okay, I'm gonna be okay." You were reassuring the two of them as much as yourself.

Jason's lips found your neck, leaving hard little kiss marks on it. Suppose you shouldn't neglect the man who was currently making your mind go blank. He sighed into your kiss, tongue pushing into your mouth with clamming force. Those kisses weren't nearly as forgiving as Dick's, Jason demanded you pay attention to him.

"You should hear it too. Jason, I- oh my god, oh fuuuu-!" You couldn't get a word in when Dick started fucking you too, two hard cock filling you at once, fighting for your attention, the pulsing, clenching wetness of your cunt. So Dick could be petty too. "Love you."

"The feeling is mutual." Of course Jason wasn't the best with words, with feelings. But he claimed to be the best at this. "Are two cock's enough for you? Or are you greedy for more? I wonder how many you could take? One. In. Every. Hole."

"Stop talking to her like that. She's not just some bitch you get to fuck." Dick growled at him and pulled you more towards him. "Come on baby. Tell him."

You wished you could deny what Jason said. Because you didn't want any cocks that weren't theirs. That was the truth. But you couldn't catch enough of a break between one cock and the other fucking your pussy. So you couldn't deny it. Jason laughed while Dick started you wide eyed and with his mouth parted in shock. His cock twitched inside you, his hold getting more and more possessive.

"I won't let them. No one else will fuck you. No one." You rarely saw him snap like this.

"Seems like she likes it. Maybe we need to make her see who she belongs to." And naturally Jason was encouraging this. Both men started fucking you faster, harder, your pussy filled to the limit and more. Your arms wrapped around Dick's shoulders to keep yourself grounded but Jason's arms still held your legs open. "We can do it inside right pretty girl? You want our cum in your pussy?"

"Y... Yes. Yes! Anything for you." You moaned, your hips moving on their own, no control or care, your mind swimming with pleasure. "I want your cum."

"Both our cum. At once." Dick repeated against your lips as he pushed in one final time, Jason giving it a few more good pumps, in and out, Dick's cum dripping down and soon joined by his, a torrent of warmth flooding your abused hole. Your vision went white, body boneless against Dick's, legs limp in Jason's hands as you shook and twitched. "Shit. Are you okay?"

"Holy..." Jason chuckled, "She came so hard she passed out." You groaned weakly, not enough strength in you to tell him to shut the hell up. "You did good." His lips pressed one side of your neck, the action soon mirrored on the other side by Dick. They kept kissing you until you were strong enough to move, to talk, to tell them you loved them both so much.

#dick grayson x reader #jason todd x reader #dc comics x reader #dick grayson x you #jason todd x you #dc comics x you #nightwing x reader #red hood x reader #nightwing x you #red hood x you #dick grayson imagine #jason todd imagine #nightwing imagine #red hood imagine #dc comics imagine #dick grayson smut #jason todd smut #nightwing smut #red hood smut #dc comics smut #x female reader

[crystalflygeo]

How to Warm Up your Dragon ft Zhongli + fem!reader

cw/tags: ngl this is MOSTLY VERY FLUFFY but it has a veeeery spicy part ehehehehe, praise kink, biting, bit of rough sex, creampie, dirty talk. Reader is technically Fontainian but you can ignore that tbh

notes: Y'ALL THIS HAS BEEN ON MY WIPS SINCE BEFORE FONTAINE IT'S BEEN SOSOSOSOSO LONG I started writing at the start of winter here, now it's summer lmao but hey at least it's winter in the northern hemisphere so... enjoy the snow and dragon man!! Also also... no one guessed what the gift was but Rin was the closest!

Your mother always used to say the way to a man's heart was with food.

you wonder if that applied to archons... er, dragons? adepti?

In any case...

Zhongli has always been a... particular eater. A very refined palate. It's not that he was hard to please, to tell the truth. But he always seemed to have an extra comment, something to add or change to a dish to make it ‘a little more special’.

But you'd quickly find out he had a soft spot for broths and soups, bamboo shoot soup being his particular favorite. Even when it took a lot of hard work and time to prepare, the way he did so was worth it, simply spectacular.

That's why you could almost cry with joy when he happily praised one of your favorite dishes. A fantastic soup d'oignon passed down on your family. Nothing to add, no extras or corrections, he'd enjoy it to its fullest talking about the creamy texture and unique flavor of the cheese so different from those found in Liyue.

So, today you decided to prepare it. Nothing better to warm up on this chilly season, and besides you'd just received a shipment of ingredients from your family.

The rhythm of a knife on a cutting board fills the air, along with a delicious smell. You finish slicing the onions into thin strips and add them to the pot at the stove, humming lightly while stirring. You really hope nothing would keep your dear Zhongli too busy today, so he could be just in time to enjoy this while still fresh and warm.

You turn off the other burner as the beef stock had already warmed up, and start washing some dishes while keeping an eye on the food. It is… rather amusing just how domestic this all feels. Not too long ago you were adventuring over Teyvat, facing off all sorts of crazy dangers, exploring, and never stopping in one place and now… now this feels like home.

And that is without taking into account who your fiancé even is. The former Geo Archon. You shake your head with a light chuckle. It’s still so weird to think of such an imposing figure from legends to be so… him.

You dry your hands and start to pour the broth on the now-golden onions, stirring.

Zhongli is sweet, caring, attentive, wise, with just the right words at the right time. Admittedly a bit airheaded at times, funny when he wants to be. A refined gentleman through and through unlike anyone you’d ever met.

And he loves you.

And you’re engaged.

Warmth rises up to your cheeks along with a small smile as you lower the heat and start grating the cheese.

You heard sounds at the front door and then steps. Oh, early today. Zhongli walks up to you with a smile, greeting you with a kiss on the cheek, his hands resting at your waist as he leans in from over your shoulder. “Welcome home, Li.”

“Thank you” He replies in that deep suave voice. “That smells good my love, would you like some help finishing?”

You shake your head a little. “Please, there’s no need, you just got home. Go take a bath and unwind a little, I’ll finish here and we’ll eat.”

Zhongli looks as if he’s about to say something but simply nods. “Hmm, alright then.” He pulls you a little closer in his embrace, as if he’d missed your contact, your scent. Zhongli inhales deeply, tension seeping off of his body and he gives a soft kiss at your shoulder before almost regretfully pulling away. You chuckle a little and stir the pan.

How domestic and loving indeed.

…

Later when the food is ready and served, he returns to the small kitchen dressed in much more casual and comfier robes. Your eyes linger a little on the small expanse of exposed skin at his neck and chest and then stop at the way his long hair is tied up in a bun.

“Not washing your hair today?” You ask casually, taking your seat.

 “I… Perhaps I have gotten rather used you doing it. I simply didn’t feel like it.”

You can’t help the short laugh that escapes you, even as you try to cover it a little. “Is this your way of saying you wanted me to bathe with you?”

His golden eyes twinkle. “I would certainly enjoy indulging in that more often.”

Your cheeks flush and you avert your eyes.

He takes a spoonful of soup and hums, closing his eyes to appreciate the flavors. “The finest ingredients cooked with true expertise. Simply divine, my love, thank you.”

“Flatterer.” You say, a little embarrassed but he can see right thought it, your little grin, the little shift in your posture.

“I am simply stating the truth.” He replies and continues eating. You can see his shoulders relax and the small satisfied smile at the warm food, it makes you a little giddy as you start eating as well.

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

bundling up during winter was obvious, right?

Putting on layers and layers of clothes. And true, perhaps Liyue didn't get as cold as other nations such as Fontaine, Mondstadt or of course Snezhnaya, but maybe it was exactly for that reason the temperature drop seemed to affect everyone all the more. Besides, the people would take any excuse to show off their fancy coats, scarves and other cold-climate outfits.

Zhongli naturally wore many layers, and he did mention once or twice he wasn't as affected by the cold. Yet, his business partner had gifted him a thick snezhnayan cloak.

The thing was entirely ridiculous, too bulky with a fluffy overtop, the colors dark and cool not matching Zhongli at all.

And yet he'd used it! (Only twice... but still)

You were not jealous, not at all.

You just wanted to... give him something he'd also enjoy and wear around, yes. Something personal, something he’d like and look at and remember you.

But what?

Ugh, it’s not like you were really well versed in sewing. Back at home you’d even had some machinery for that, but here in Liyue… you wracked your brain thinking what could you give him. He had quite a few elegant outfits, fitting him perfectly and enhancing all his attributes, all personally tailored by one of his late Yaksha so they held immense sentimental value as well… how could you compete with that?!

Right, right, it was not a competition. You sigh. Zhongli will probably be happy with anything you give him, but still…

An idea pops into your head and you can’t help but chuckle. Oh, it’s so silly… but maybe…

Simple enough, personal, something he’d use during the cold season only around you. Could work, you decided as you pick up your things to go visit the textile shop.

If nothing else, it could at least get a good chuckle out of Zhongli, right?

And so, for a few days you work on your little project. Turns out sewing was indeed a little harder than expected but you were trying your best. The kind lady who’d sold you some excellent wool had also given you some tips and they proved to be most useful indeed!

Regrettably you didn’t exactly have the right measurements so you more or less eyeballed them. Eh. It’ll be fine…

Zhongli almost came close to finding out too, though you were inconspicuous enough. You’re sure he suspects something.

“It will all be worth it, it will all be worth it…” You mumble to yourself with a frown as you finish trimming one of the stitches. Your fingers hurt.

…

“Li! I have something for you!” You exclaim happily, hands behind your back holding the wrapped-up item you had worked so hard on. An excited glow on your smile and bright eyes.

“Oh? Am I going to finally see what you’ve been guarding to secrecy this past week?” He replies coolly with a knowing smile, amusement dancing on his tone as he places his teacup down.

Nothing escapes him.

“Yes” You present him the gift, your hands then fidget nervously, having nothing else to do now. “I hope you like it! It’s… my first time doing something like this… i-it may not be that good, it’s kind of silly but-”

“Darling please do not fret, I would love anything you give me.”

Your shoulders relax.

Zhongli unwraps the paper and finds a rich dark brown fabric staring back at him, he picks the item and opens it, trying to gauge its shape, thick wool, a little rough around the edges but you did mention it was your first try and he is honored enough you’d make such effort for him.

However…

What is it exactly?

He turns the item around trying not to show too much confusion on his face as to insult you or make you feel bad, it looks like… a severely oversized legwarmer?

“It’s…” You start, feeling a little shy and silly once more. “…for your tail.”

Recognition shines in his eyes and he blinks at the item. 

“You- I know you like to let loose a little around the house and let your illuminated beast features show, I love you tail too but I know… the scales get cold easily a-and usually we just bundle up with a blanket but I thought-”

“I love it.”

You stop running your mouth as soon as he utters those words, Zhongli looks at you with a gentle calm and your heart could melt at the sincerity in his expression. “No one had ever made something like this for me.”

He stands and unfurls the item, then, in a flash of gold his dragon tail manifests, majestic as ever and swaying lazily, the tuft of fur at the end flickering with each move. He maneuvers a little to slip the ‘tailwarmer’ on and though it sags a little, much to your relief it at least fits nicely. There is a yellow diamond pattern near the base that you’d started working on but deemed too difficult for a first try. It was a cute little detail though, maybe next time.

“Warm and cozy.” He chuckles and you beam at him, before letting out a squeak as said dragon tail curls around you, pressing your forward against his chest.

“Thank you, my love.” He cups your face and kisses your forehead.

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

The air is hot and heavy as soft moans and grunts fill the room.

Well, this was certainly a way to warm up… and get some good cardio.

You pant and squirm on the plush surface of a heavenly mattress as the familiar weight of the ex-archon descends upon you. His arms going from a golden orange hue to a deep charcoal, lines of gold thrumming across his skin, glowing softly in periodic pulses up strong muscular arms. Golden horns rise from soft brown hair curled at the tips, two on each side like a crown, while a powerful scaly tail wraps around your calf holding your leg up, spread.

This is Rex Lapis. Morax. Any other number of names he had. This is the Geo Archon.

“Zhongliii!” You whine, his hands caressing your body, claws teasing along your skin, pinching a nipple, fangs grazing your collarbone and a long serpentine tongue licking a hot stripe across your neck.

The head of his cock teases at your entrance, already rock hard and burning like a brand, your hips canting for more. For him to finally fill you, to feel his thick overwhelming girth stretch you, breed you… you want to be filled so full it overflows, so that it dribbles down your thighs and ass in thick, slick rivulets of his love.

“Patience my love.”

You whimper and jerk at that, about to cry out for him again when he rolls his hips and sinks in your warm hole. Your breath catches in your throat as your head throws back on the soft feather pillows.

He pushes into you inch by inch, carving a space for himself with a soft rumbling groan. His lips seek yours as his hands slide to your hips and press hard enough to bruise. His kiss devouring, all-consuming with need as he bottoms inside you, hips pressed flush.

Gods you feel so full, stretched and filled every inch and then some, and he doesn’t allow you a moment to pause and adjust either. A beast of a man in the best of ways, he withdraws halfway, only to slam forward in a fluid firm thrust.

“Mng-! Ah!”

“Mine. All mine. S-so warm and thigh- nghh…”

His pace starts slow, his voice alone enough to drive you crazy with how deep, carnal, animalistic it is against your neck. Sharp canines teasing the elegant column of your throat as he moves.

“Oh! so good… Li… f-faster… faster ple-ahhn!” Your voice pitches high as you babble, pleasure coiling on your gut.    

“As- you desire…” Strained words still sounding like the very embodiment of sex, his voice so sinfully deep, so erotic it washes over you like liquid silk, like molten gold, only heightening the sensations of his quickening pace. In and out, in and out, skin slapping on skin. “You’re… you’re so perfect for me-”

You take him so well, your legs spread wide, your back arched, your insides molded to his length, enveloping him in the most mind-blowing of heats. The bed creaking as Zhongli delivers another powerful thrust, hitting a sweet spot deep within you and making you elicit a sharp keening sob of a moan. Your hands scrambling from the sheets to seek purchase at his back, curled up under his arms to scratch viciously trying to hold onto something, anything as he drives into you thrust after thrust after thrust-    

“I’m- I’m gon-ahnn! Z-Zhongli… ooohh!”

Fuck you are close. So, so close…

He nips at the soft spot between your neck and shoulder. “Almost there… little one.” He huffs between strained grunts and you whimper at the pet name. Golden claws sink on the bedsheets, gripping thigh for leverage as he moves faster, frantic, hips like pistons he fucks into you like a wild animal, the bed rocking, shaking with each thrust. “C-close…”

You mewl and moan, unable to form coherent thoughts anymore but just feel the hot burning pleasure, his warm puffs of breath on your skin, your sweating bodies dampening the sheets and you desperately want to feel his warm seed inside you, filled to the brim with his creamy cum.

“Pleasepleaseplease i-in! In-s-ahh!” You come with a sharp cry, vision blurring, muscles clenching, your insides squeezing around him, milking him for all he’s worth.

It was enough, the tipping point for the dragon, his thrusts shallowing out until he ruts as deep as he can and shoots his load inside you with a guttural groan. Thick spurts pumping inside you before it pools out around his own cock, leaking from your body until there’s nothing left to give.  

Everything is hot… so hot… the air heavy and musky with the scent of sex…

…

Zhongli slumps softly atop your body after what feels like ana eternity, his cock still comfortably nestled within your slick walls, cushioned by fluttering muscles. You lay beneath him, sweaty and shivering, breathless, chest raising and falling rapidly in small gasps as you struggle to catch your breath but oh, how you took his away…

 Beautiful, truly… your half-lidded eyes glazed over, barely able to open admits your exhaustion, but still able to whimper soft little moans as he trails fluttering reverent kisses along your neck and collarbone. Soft, chaste, loving and tender touches.

“Ahhn… mmm…” He chuckles softly at the endearing sounds you make as he eases out of you, the subtle friction enough to sent fire to your nerves, followed by a strange emptiness that mellows down to buzzing contentment.

He lies to the side and pulls you close towards his chest, his tail finally letting your now sore leg rest, uncoiling from it to curl around you both, you settle there with a sigh, eyes sliding shut. “So good for me.” Zhongli gently brushes some hair away from your face and places a kiss at the crown of your head, resting his chin there. “Rest now, dear.”

“Mn.”

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

You smile as Zhongli places the two steaming teacups on the table before scooting over and welcoming him with the blanket surrounding you. He settles on the couch with you cuddling close and passing the book on your hands to him. Your fingers brush and he sets the book on his lap before taking your hands on his, cradling them close to his face before blowing a warm breath on them. You blush and let out a little airy laugh.

“What is this? Dragon breath to keep me warm?”

He hums against your skin, piercing golden eyes staring up at you. “No, just my love for you.” He kisses your knuckles and fingers.

“You…” You mumble, averting your gaze.

He chuckles and kisses your wrist then before leaning in close and kissing your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, anywhere he can reach.

“Ngah, wait you affectionate big lizard!” You squirm and he laughs fully now.

“Just seeking my adorable fiancée’s warmth” He nuzzles onto your neck, kissing there too and making you yelp. “Gorgeous.”

“A-Am not!”

“So precious when you get all shy and flustered.” He gets your jaw this time when you move, so close to your lips.

“Stop! You menace…” You pout and this time you cup his face, staring for a moment at his handsome features, your thumb brushing close to one of the red markings under his eyes.

This man. This dragon. This god.

Oh, how you love him. He warms up your heart.

“Here, I’ll warm you up proper…” You whisper softly, pulling him close and tilting your head to slot your lips together.

Just as you warm up his.

#crys writes #zhongli smut #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #fem!reader #I am so happy this is done eeeeeeeee <3 #alt title: warm him up with food with clothes with your body and with your love #dcfgscvgabcjah I love him sm

[beejunos]

SPEAK TO ME | Alastor x f.reader

Summary: Alastors voice turns you on. Something he loves to take advantage of.

FULL STORY!

Here we have it! The full story! 5k of pure smut. Enjoy darlings! Tags: Dom!Alastor, masturbation, oral, light bondage, fingering, dirty talk

Attraction was a funny thing. It could never be explained, and often, it just appeared one day. Attraction could hit you like a train in the dead of night, but sometimes, it would follow you like a shadow. Whispering sweet words in your ear without making itself too known, not until it was too late, and you realised that you had stayed awake for two hours when you should have been asleep instead of thinking about what someone's hands would feel like on your skin. 

Attraction was an annoyance, but lust, its evil twin, was irrational, unpredictable, and, worst of all, it made you stupid. 

So incredibly dumb.

The lust had crept up on you like a thief in the night. Stealing your rational mind and sanity, leaving only the body to fend off the raging attraction that wanted to sink its teeth into your tender flesh. 

Having a crush on the radio demon was a poor choice and a painful one.

It began weeks ago when you first arrived at the crumbling hotel. 

Hazbin Hotel, with its rehabilitation program, had been your last resort after your landlord, who really deserved to be in Hell, kicked you out of your apartment. 

You had been tired of fending for yourself, trying to work, feed yourself and find an apartment with a landlord who wasn't a humongous creep. It seemed to be an impossible task in Hell. It wasn't until you heard one of your coworkers talk about the interview on the news with the princess of Hell that you found out about her little redemption project.

The Hazbin Hotel appeared like a lighthouse on the horizon for you, and the prospect of a warm meal and a soft bed was too enticing to pass on.

Charlie had, of course, taken you in straight away and for the first time in days, you felt like you could finally catch your breath. 

The bath you took that evening in your own bathroom, connected to your own bedroom, was heavenly. Almost sinful with how much pleasure you took from it. 

The next day had been quite overwhelming to you, to say the least. Thrown into the middle of trust exercises with people whom you had known less than 24 hours, where you had, in the span of two hours, visited a bondage club and escaped a turf war that Vaggie had thrown you into. If that was how she had learned to trust others, then maybe you weren't cut out for redemption. 

While the other hotel residents turned out to be a wonderful company, one, in particular, made your little sinner's heart skip a beat. 

Alastor, the infamous radio demon. 

He had ... not been what you had expected. 

From all the tales you'd heard of him, you expected a grotesque monster who murdered anyone who would just look at him funny. But he couldn't have been further from the image you had created of him from all the rumours. 

First of all, he was beautiful. His soft red eyes were so hypnotising that you feared you would drown in them, with a smile showing rows of sharp teeth. One thing was for sure: Hell would contort any morals and virtues you may have had, and if you had liked the idea of lovers biting your skin during intercourse before, it was now a raving obsession. An obsession that would fule you nightly fantasies for weeks and weeks. 

Sometimes, that was the only thing you could think about, his sharp teeth grazing your neck or nibbling your ear. 

Alastor was also very charming in his own way. A gentleman by hellish standards. Whenever you were going somewhere in the same direction, he would always hold up doors for you or pull out the chair for you during dinner time. Something you were highly unused to, and it had taken a long time for you not to blush whenever he did it. 

Whilst his jokes were lame at best, the conversations you would have late at night by the fireplace were your favourite time of the day. Because you loved his voice. You really loved his voice. 

There was something so bewitching with that transatlantic accent and that strange buzzing overlay to how he spoke. It made it sound like he was far away when he was, in fact, right in front of you, and the gentle buzzing had made you tremble more times than you could count.

Something that you suspected that Alastor had caught on to with how often he would appear behind you, only to put his head right beside yours and say the most innocent things that would make you react in the most sinful ways.

The day he had started to call you 'my dear' had been a day you would never forget, for you had laid awake all night imagining him whispering those exact words in your ear as you brought yourself to climax. Again, again, and again. 

You had had a tough time the day after looking him in the eyes without thinking of all the times you had desperately whispered his name into your pillow with your fingers between your legs.

"What's this?" you asked, surprised as you sat down to eat breakfast. On the table sat a red present with a big black bow right in front of the seat you always occupied. You could recognise Rosies' gift rapping technique anywhere.

"It is a gift, my dear. Open it," answered Alastor and sat down to your right at the end of the table.

You and Alastor were always the two residents in the hotel who were awake first: You because you wanted to spend as much time as possible with the strange but charming sinner. Unfortunately, he had the habit of disappearing during the day, so you only ever had the morning and the night to talk uninterrupted with him. You also suspected that Alastor barely slept because, after your evening chats, when you went to bed, Alastor would go up to his radio tower to host his show, and you had no idea when he would end them.

You opened the gift slowly as if savouring it, trying not to get too excited about having gotten a gift from Alastor when, in reality, you just wanted to rip it open.

Inside the box was a beautiful antique radio in pristine condition. The dark wooded exterior was smooth and shiny as if someone had just polished it, and it made you almost not want to touch it in case you left fingerprints on it.

You looked up at Alastor, whose smile seemed to grow as he looked at you.

"I remember you telling me that you had never had the pleasure of hearing my radio show, and now you can listen to it whenever you want!"

At times like these, you wondered if Alastor knew of your slightly obsessive crush on him. He struck you as a man who liked to play with his food.

The radio turned out to be a great gift that you used almost religiously. Every evening, when you were preparing to go to bed, you would turn on the radio and listen to Alastor's radio show. You would have the radio on softly in the background as you walked around your room doing your nightly routine. Sometimes, you would even invent stuff for you to do so you could stay up longer just so you could listen to his voice.

It was almost like he was in the room with you, talking just to you about anything he found interesting. On the odd occasion, Alastor would incorporate a passive-aggressive threat into the show for some poor sinner getting in his way, but that never scared you. In fact, you looked forward to those instances.

Alastors' voice would drop and get darker, reminding everyone who listened that he was still dangerous—a predator waiting to strike.

A wolf in sheep's clothing, and what a stupid sheep you were. Yearning for the wolf bite.

Halfway through your night routine, you turned on your radio at a soft, pleasant volume, and Alastor's smooth voice filled the otherwise silent room. 

"Salutations, friends and hellish residents! Tonight, we have a splendid assortment of the latest news and the best Hell has to offer in jazz, but before we chitchat about our dear city's hellish affairs, here is the newest music from Miss Jezebel and The Wicked Six!" 

Slow and sultry jazz music started to play on the radio. The woman who sang had a deep, smoky quality that was inherently sexy to you. There was just something about women who sang with deep voices that made your hips sway from side to side, effortlessly dancing across your room as you started to strip, pretending there was someone there who enjoyed the show you put on. 

You turned off all the lights except the small lamp by your bed and crawled under the thick blanket. Leaving the radio on as you made yourself comfortable, hugging one of your pillows close to you. 

The song ended, and Alastor came back. This time, he started talking about the news. Since the news sometimes made you too sad to sleep, you never really listened to what he was saying; you only listened to his voice—his tone, the cadence of his speech, and his transatlantic accent. 

You let his voice wash over you like a soothing balm to your aching body, but soon, you felt the familiar tingles run up your back. Warmth pooled low within you as you shifted in your bed, lying on your back. The desire to touch and be touched grew in you, to move, to grind, to satisfy the urge for sex. 

Closing your eyes and letting your hands wander over your body, you start by slowly dragging your fingertips over your sensitive throat, making sure that your light fingertips touch all the places that made you weak. 

Your hands travel from your throat down to your chest. Palming your breasts in your hands, you drag your nails over your sensitive nipples. Pinshin, pulling and rolling them between your fingers till they are warm and hard. 

Your senses sharpen as you start to feel more intensely, but your mind goes hazy, making it hard to think clearly. Alastors voice is but background noise now that edges you on.

One hand stays on your breast as the other journeys down, down, down and under your underwear. 

You slowly drag your finger between your lips, coating your finger in your wetness as you slowly pull it towards your clit. A breathless gasp is pulled from your mouth the first time your finger comes in contact with your sensitive clit. Slowly and with the lightest touch, you start to circle the organ, and what feels like electricity builds in your loins.

You can't help but move in your bed, legs bending and toes curling as you give yourself the pleasure that you wished Alastor would provide you. Your hand that previously played with your breast joined your other hand, and you let out a not-so-subtle moan as you pushed two fingers into you. Desperately, you curl your fingers inside you to increase the pleasure. 

You want it. You need it. Your toes curl almost painfully as Alastors name falls from your lips like a prayer. 

You're so close. So close you can see stars behind your eyes. You breathlessly chase that sweet release. Building, and building, and building. Your legs are shaking as you bite your lips. Hips lift from the mattress as you fight the urge to close your legs.

You are so, so close.

"What are you doing, my dear?" 

Cold dread crashes through your body as you rip your hands away from your body. You frantically look all over your room in the shadows. Looking for that all-knowing smile and calculating red eyes. 

His voice had been so close and clear that he had to be in your room. It had felt like he had spoken to you right beside your ear. But you were alone. No one was in your room but you. 

"Such a naughty little creature you are, my dear. So desperate to be touched." 

Goosebumps travel up your back as you slowly turn in the direction you hear his voice. On your nightstand is the radio that Alastor gave you. It is still on, but the yellow light of the display has turned red. 

Towering over you in your bed, you almost feel like he is watching you. Observing you as you lay naked before him. Your blankets were by the end of the bed as you had kicked them off a long time ago. 

"Can't even listen to me talking without having to touch yourself. My oh my, what will I ever do with such a bad little doe, hm?" 

Shaking all over, you lunged for the radio's electrical cord and jerked it out of the outlet. The radio fell silent as you collapsed in your bed. Spent, but not satisfied. However, you soon start to tremble all over again over the fact that Alastor had listened to you pleasuring yourself, and he seemed to like it.

You would be lying if you said you had a good night's sleep after that fateful evening—or if you said you had slept at all.

You had stayed up all night replaying the previous night's events, unable to comprehend what you had been through. Had it really happened? Had Alastor really listened to you masturbate while you were moaning his name? It had almost felt like a fever dream had you not stared at the pulled-out electrical cord for the radio all morning.

The clock on your dresser kept ticking as you sat in your black dressing gown on your bed. The time was about to turn nine, and you had not stepped a foot outside of your bedroom, too scared to face the man after your night. You knew you had to leave your bedroom sooner or later, but you were waiting until you were sure that Alastor would have gone for the day to do whatever he usually did during the day. As soon as you were sure that you would not encounter him in the hallway, you would sneak out of your bedroom and go down to the kitchen to steal all the snacks you needed to survive the day cupped out in your own room, like the coward you intended to be. 

It was one thing to fantasise about Alastor naked, but it was a completely different thing to now face the possibility that maybe he would like to see you naked, too. 

Three knocks were heard from your door out of nowhere before Alastor slammed the door open and stepped in with a silver tray full of food in his band. You let out a small yelp before climbing further up into the bed to get away from the other sinner, who waltzed into your room as if he owned the place.

"My dear, what are you doing in bed at this hour? Don't you know that you've missed breakfast?" Alastor's voice was laced with a hint of amusement as if he found your predicament delightful. He walked over to the little table and armchair you had in front of the unused fireplace on the opposite wall to the bed and sat down the tray on the table before conjuring a matching armchair out of thin air. He sat down as if nothing was out of the ordinary and leaned his cane against the armrest as soft jazz music began playing.

As you sat on your bed, feeling increasingly uncomfortable in your underdressed state, you watched in disbelief as Alastor, seemingly unperturbed by your unease, crossed his legs and settled into your room. His casual demeanour, coupled with his humming along to the music, only served to deepen your sense of bewilderment, and you were sure that you were hallucinating. 

You must have eaten something terrible yesterday, and maybe everything you thought happened last night and now was all in your head. 

"Are you going to eat or not? Your food is getting cold, my dear." 

The look Alastor gave you from the corner of his eye told you that it was in your best interest to sit in the armchair in front of him and eat. 

You slowly left the safety of your bed and walked over to Alastor. However, the steps you took on the way were tiny, considering that your dressing gown ended in the middle of your thighs, and you didn't want to flash him accidentally. Not caring about the look you got from Alastor, you shuffled your feet across the room and sat down in the armchair, struggling as you continued to keep your legs as close together as possible. 

With shaking hands, you took the small coffee cup and were about to put it to your lips for a sip when Alastor spoke up again:

"Aren't you forgetting something, my dear?" 

The look he was giving you made shivers travel up and down your spine. Shivers dipped in fear with a hint of excitement. He had never looked at you so intensely before. 

"Thank you for bringing me breakfast," you whispered hoarsely. 

"Good girl." You almost choked on your coffee, "And you're welcome." 

You had a tough time looking into his eyes after that comment as your cheeks grew warmer and warmer. 

Without warning, Alastor began to talk about everything that needed to be done that day. Apparently, Niffty had found a cockroach infestation in the basement, and Charlie had decided they would use chemicals instead of Niffty's needle, which she liked stabbing them with. 

Alastor kept talking on and on about work and the hotel as you ate. On the outside, you kept calm as you finished the last of your breakfast, but on the inside, you wondered if he would mention what had happened yesterday. Had it even happened? 

Maybe it hadn't, and your obsessive crush had finally broken you. 

"Ah, I see that you have finished your breakfast! Well, I best be on my way!" With a snap of his finger, Alastor made the breakfast tray disappear into a red cloud. He did, however, leave the extra chair he had conjured up. 

"Could you be a doll and tell Vaggie that I'll need the documents later today and that she can leave them in the bar? I need to head out today, and I don't think I'll be back until this evening," said Alastor as he stood up, brushing invisible dust off his impeccable suit. 

"Uhm, sure. I'll do that. Just close the door when you leave, please," you answered as you looked as Alastor made way for the hallway door. He waved absentmindedly over his shoulder in affirmation of your request.

A small part of you were disappointed that this little breakfast meeting had turned out the way it had, no matter how confounding it had been. If only you could have gotten a hint from Alastor about what he was thinking and why he frankly was there.  

Maybe he had just brought you breakfast from the goodness of his heart? Or he had just missed your company that morning since you usually only got to talk uninterrupted in the morning.

You turned around to walk to the bathroom as he left your room. Letting your shoulder slump in disappointment, you wondered what you would do that day. You remembered that Charlie had mentioned that it would be nice if the hotel's garden were more well-kept but that she couldn't hire a gardener just yet. 

That could be the thing you did today. Find some gardening tools and surprise Charlie by pulling out all the weeds in the flowerbeds. 

Oh, what a joy, you thought sarcastically as you started to open the bathroom door. However, it slammed close hard in front of you as a hand shot forward and a hard chest pressed into your back. 

All around you began shadows to dance as if they were made of mist, and the air got charged with a static you were all too familiar with. The shivers came back, but your whole body shivered this time as his other hand gripped your hip, pressing you closer to him, but the only thing you could focus on was his breath fanning over your ear as he whispered:

"I will be back at eleven tonight, and when I get back, I will find you in your bed, naked, waiting on me. You are not allowed to touch yourself, and don't try to defy me, my dear, for I will know if you do." 

In a heartbeat, Alastor was gone, and your body instantly felt colder. Shaking all over, your knees finally gave away under you, and you collapsed in front of your bathroom door. 

Behind you, the radio began to play softly—the same music Alastor had played during breakfast. Looking at the blasted thing, you could see that the radio wasn't plugged in.

The clock was about to strike a quarter to eleven, and you had been a nervous wreck for the past three hours. Time couldn't have gone by slower as you constantly turned to look at the clock hands to see how far they had moved. 

You had tried to distract yourself during the day with the gardening, but you constantly got distracted by all the fantasies you had of what Alastor would do to you. Turned out that it was really hard to work when horny. 

As you looked at the clock again, you re-adjusted in your bed for what felt like the thousandth time. 22:47. 

Ugh, this is taking forever! 

Laying down again, you looked over at the radio on your nightstand. It had been quiet since the morning, but you still waited to hear the tiniest sound from it that would indicate that Alastor was with you. But nothing came. 

You turned on your side to continue staring at the radio as you took one of your pillows and pressed it against you. The air in your room was cold against your skin, yet you ignored your chilled skin, for the mere thought of what would happen tonight warmed you from the inside out. 

The benefit of laying on your side was that you now could feel the slickness between your legs, coating almost all of the insides of your thighs. You knew that Alastor had said that you were not allowed to touch yourself, but he had never specified in what way you could not touch yourself, and if you didn't get some of your release soon, you felt like you would spontaneously ignite.   

Slowly, you started to press your legs together as you rubbed them against each other. Sweet pressure was building up the pleasure within you as you pressed your face into the pillow. Harder and harder, you tried to push your legs together, increasing the pleasure you had longed for all of them. 

Close, you were so close, and the excitement of defying Alastor just heightened the experience. 

You only needed one more push until you would fall over the edge into sweet release, but it never came as something grabbed onto your ankles and roughly pulled your legs apart. 

"I must say, I am really disappointed in you, my dear." 

From the shadows stepped Alastor out and looked down at you from the end of the bed, but what scared you the most was that he was not smiling. 

Looking down at you from heavily hooded eyes, Alastor dragged your body further down the bed, keeping your legs spread out with the help of his shadow tentacles. 

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it," you pleaded, hoping he would show you mercy, but from the looks of it, you would not be shown any. 

"Don't lie to me. You know very well what you did." With a snap of his finger, the armchair Alastor had conjured earlier that day dragged across the floor and stopped behind him. He sat down and made himself comfortable, looking over at you as he had a full view of between your legs.

"Now, darling, since you didn't listen to me, there will be consequences," said Alastor, crossing his legs and leaning his head in his hand lazily. You pressed up on your elbows to look over at him, and while his body language did not look interested, his eyes were sharp, focusing on your wetness that glistened in the light from the chandelier.

"One, you are not allowed to touch me." 

"What?!" you cried, the fear that you had ruined your only chance with Alastor burning within you like a forest fire. 

"Silence." You instantly shut your mouth as static filled the air and prickled your skin. Alastor's antlers had grown in size. He sighed and continued when he was sure that you would not say one more word.

"As I was saying, you are not allowed to touch me, but I can touch you however I want. If you wish me to stop, you will simply say television. Understod?" 

"Yes."

"Yes, and?" 

"Yes, sir?" You weren't sure what Alastor wanted to hear, but from the smirk that started growing on his lisp, you were sure that you had said the right thing. 

"What a good little doe you are, my dear." Whilst you were sure that was said condescendingly, you could not help the pride that grew in you that he thought you were good for him. A small yelp was pulled from your lips as you felt Alastors tentacles start to massage their way up your legs.

"You seemed to like my voice so much, my dear, that I thought you must love it if I command you as well. Isn't that what you want? For me to tell you exactly what to do to you and how to do it? Wouldn't you like to put on a show for me, darling?" 

Your brain was short-circuiting as you could not get a single word out. The only thing you could do was nod enthusiastically as Alastor's shadow tentacles gently began to play with your lips between your legs without touching your clit.

"Lovely." said Alastor, now giving you his trademark smile, "Why don't you show me how you touched yourself yesterday? I could hear those delicious sounds you made, my dear, and I want to hear them live."

And so, with shaking hands, you began massaging and caressing your body, making sure that you touched every part of your body that made you sing in pleasure. You wanted to put on a show, but you were so eager, so impatient as you played with your body that you could not bear the thought of prolonging this torture. 

You needed to be touched, and you needed it now. 

Dipping your hand between your legs, you could feel Alastors tentacles pull away from your genitals but keep a firm grip on your thighs. The first time you touched your clit was electric, as you made sure to look Alastor deep in the eyes when you did it. A soft moan from you filled the air.

Rolling the tip of your finger lazily against your clit you looked on with great satisfaction as Alastors eyes dropped from your down to your finger between your legs.

"Drag your fingers between your lips, darling, but before you do, circle your opening. Slowly without pushing in," commanded Alastor, and if you weren't delusional, you thought you heard the desperation in his voice, but his face gave nothing away. He readjusted in the chair by uncrossing his legs, giving you a full view of his hard cock in his pants. 

Never had you been filled with the need to fall on your knees and suck someone's cuck as if it was what you were created to do as you did now. You licked your lips and whined loudly as you circled the opening to your vagina with your finger, wishing it was Alastors finger or tongue that did it instead.

After circling for some time, you pulled your finger through your lips up to your clit and began touching your clit again. This time, with additional wetness, you let all the sounds you wished to make leave your mouth as you quickened the speed of your finger. 

"That's it, darling, you are doing so well." Whispered Alastor as he leaned forward in his chair, "When you feel like you're about to cum, remove your finger immediately."

The demand almost made you want to cry, but from the look Alastor was giving you, you did not want to challenge him. Savouring the feeling of your fingers a few seconds more before you removed your fingers from your clit that begged your release. The orgasm that had been at the tip of your fingers slowly fizzled out as you started to calm down. 

You looked at Alastor, who had moved from his chair to sit on the bed by your feet, waiting for his following instructions. 

"What a treasure you are, darling. So willing, so needy."

Alastor lifted his hand and, with the back of his fingers, caressed the inside of your thigh. The touch was so charged that it felt like you could cum from that mere touch alone. As your leg twitched from his touch, Alastor's tentacle tightened around your leg, pulling you closer to him. Your breath got stuck in your throat as you watched Alastor climb onto the bed, sitting on his knees between your legs.

"How long have you dreamt of this? How long have you been mine without me knowing it?" The look in Alastor's eyes grew increasingly intense as he leaned over you, looking down at you with an almost mad look in his red eyes. Out of nowhere, Alastor pushed two fingers inside of you and curled them, making your hips lift from the bed involuntarily at the pleasure. 

"How long, my dear? Answer me," he growled as his antlers grew. You could barely breathe as he continued to curl his finger repeatedly inside you, hitting the spot that made your toes curl. 

"Since... since I first met you!" you cried as your breathing quickened. Above you, Alastor chuckled darkly as he put his free hand on your left thigh. 

"So long. We have much time to catch up to, don't we, dear?" 

You could barely comprehend a single word that left his sinful mouth as you neared the orgasm you desperately wanted. And had you not made the mistake you would have made, you would have cum on Alastors finger. 

In your lustful haze, you placed your hand on Alastors arm, holding your thigh. Instantly, Alastor recoiled from you, and the second orgasms you had almost tipped over were ripped from you. 

"What did I say about not touching me?" 

Two new tentacles came out of nowhere and wrapped around your arms, pulling them above your head. 

As you begged and pleaded for forgiveness, the weight of your desperation was palpable. You implored Alastor not to leave you like this with every fibre of your being. The thought of losing him now was unbearable, and you knew that if he did leave, it would be the end of you.

Your legs shook from the strain of being in the same position for so long. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. You were overwhelmed with emotion, your heart aching with the fear and uncertainty of what would happen next. The tension in the air was unmistakable, and you held your breath, waiting for Alastor's response.

But he only looked at you from under heavy lids. Slowly, he lifted his hand that had fingered you and licked the wetness that was still on it. 

"If you think I would leave you now, my dear, you are indeed mistaken. You are mine now, and I will do with you as I please." Grabbing both of your legs under your knees, Alastor pulled you towards him before bending you backwards so your toes almost touched the bed beside your hands. He stared deep into your eyes as he put his tongue against you and licked you from your vaginas opening up to your clit. The sound you made had been ungodly and would have been a miracle if no one else in the hotel had heard you. 

Alastor quickly started to suck and lick your clit as your legs began to shake. You could feel the sinner's claws dug into your flesh as he grew increasingly frantic in his administration, acting almost like someone who had just been presented with a glass of water after 12 days in the desert. 

Pressure built up within you for the third time, this time stronger and more intense than the previous ones. Closer and closer, he took you to the edge you wished to fall from. 

Shaking, twisting, and pulling against your restraint, you let Alastors name fall from your lips loudly as you looked at him, giving you pleasure. Blood was dripping down from your thighs where his claws had dug into your skin, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was the sweet release that you begging for. 

"Close, Alastor, I'm so close," the words tumbled out of you in a whisper as you looked on as the man licked your clit with the tip of his tongue. The only thing Alastor did was briefly look up at you as he continued to give you pleasure. 

Closer, closer, and then you fell. 

The orgasm ripped through your body like a tidal wave, making your thighs tremble uncontrollably. Your toes curled almost painfully as you threw your head back in ecstasy.

You had no idea when Alastor had put your legs back down, but suddenly, when you came to it, he was sitting by your head, gently brushing your hair from your sweaty forehead. 

"What a good little doe you were for me, my love." 

Thank you for reading my little story! I hope you like it!

Taglist: @mossingvines @kitty-kei @chibistar45

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x you #x reader #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x you #alastor smut #alastor x reader smut #hazbin hotel smut

[daisynik7]

to all the boys who live next door - masterlist

Hello friends! Wanted to do a fun little anthology series imagining some of our faves as our next-door neighbors. All fics will contain smut, therefore are rated explicit. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Specific content warnings will be listed per fic.

If you'd like to be tagged on any of the upcoming fics below, please let me know in the comments or in my inbox! Thanks in advanced for reading! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

Extra Smooth - Suguru Geto

Your next-door neighbor is loud, inconsiderate, and unfortunately, very hot. No matter how many times you bang on his door with another new noise complaint, he’ll continue to repeat his offenses nearly every weekend. You’re too timid to submit a formal complaint to the landlord, so you shrug it off, hoping that one day, he’ll suddenly become nice. That day comes sooner than you think, when he unexpectedly makes a visit to your apartment, discovering the real reason you need your peace and quiet.

2. A Helping Hand - Kento Nanami

You’re so completely insatiable that you’re going a tad bit insane. You enlist the aid of your next-door neighbor Nanami, who you know is more than willing to help. It's almost too good to be true.

3. Cure for a Hangover - Kishibe

Kishibe is your mysterious, brooding, and significantly older next-door neighbor. You’ve lived beside him for a while now, only exchanging basic pleasantries out of politeness, never anything more. One night, he comes home drunk, or so he thinks. It’s not his door he’s slumped against; it’s yours.

4. Double the Fun - Eren + Reiner

You’ve been having a bit of a dry spell recently with how busy you’ve been at work. When you finally manage to snag a date through one of your matches on a dating app, you’re unfortunately stood up, leaving you in a worse mood than before. Lucky for you, your two hot himbo neighbors are more than willing to cheer you up.  

5. What Are Friends For? - Takuma Ino

Ino is the cute guy next door that you’ve befriended ever since you moved in. He’s been nothing but kind to you, and sure, there’s attraction there, but you’ve never acted on it considering you’re already taken. When you find out your long-distance boyfriend has been cheating on you, you turn to your friend for comfort, and maybe something more.

BONUS FICS!

6. Make Me Sweat - Aoi Todo

With the start of the new year, you make it one of your main resolutions to become more active. You begin at your apartment's fitness center, where you run into your musclehead, loud-mouth next-door neighbor, Aoi Todo. He offers his gratuitous advice, annoying you at first. But when he suggests a particular kind of workout, it piques your interest enough that you can't refuse.

7. Rub You the Right Way - Choso Kamo

You've always been cordial with your shy next-door neighbor Choso Kamo. One day, you receive the package you've been expecting, finding out a little too late that it isn't your package at all; it's his. What you find inside makes you think that maybe he has a wild side, one you want to see for yourself.

8. A Helping Hand Part 2 - Kento Nanami (coming soon)

After being caught calling out his name during a sex-filled dream involving your neighbor, you try your best to do some damage control to save face from utter humiliation. Nanami, on the other hand, isn't going to let you off the hook so easily.

Do not plagiarize any of my works or translate without my permission!

#attack on titan smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #chainsaw man smut #aot smut #jjk smut #csm smut #geto smut #nanami smut #eren smut #reiner smut #takuma ino smut #masterlist #to all the boys who live next door series

[bratzforchris]

can you please do a johnnie one just of him and reader cuddling and reader telling him how proud they are of him and comforting him (for no particular reason, I just think that man needs it 😭)

ilyyy!

Snuggle Time

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*

Just some fluffy headcanons about cuddles with Johnnie! I had way too many ideas to fit into one story, so I turned them into headcanons instead :)!! No warnings, just some mildly suggestive parts. I hope you love it <3

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*

✬ although he doesn't look like it, johnnie is the biggest cuddler ever. he loves being handsy with you, even if it's not sexual<3

✬ words of affirmation and physical touch are johnnie's biggest love languages, so cuddling and telling him how much you love, how proud of him you are, etc. really gets your love for him across

✬ your and johnnie's shared bed is literally a NEST of fluffy blankets, stuffed animals, and soft pillows because of how much he adores cuddling

✬ "johnnie, we do not need another blanket"

"but this one is heavy AND soft"

✬ when he's having a rougher day, sometimes you'll just lay in bed and talk about any and everything that comes to your mind because johnnie adores the sound of your voice; it soothes him

✬ johnnie is 100000% a naked cuddler. he loves skin-to-skin with you and how warm and soft it is

✬ when you tell johnnie how proud you are of him each night before bed, that man blushes red from the tips of his ears to his toes

✬ staying in bed late on the weekends, just enjoying each other's company and talking about any and everything

✬ "no baby, come back to bed"

"johnnie, it's one pm"

✬ sometimes, neither of you talk. you just feel each other's love through touch and cuddling <3

tags ♡: @aemrsy @jake-and-johnnies-slut @mattsfavwh3re @strnlvr @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @mayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @idek3000hi @runasvengence

note ♡: if you'd like to be included on my taglist, click here <3

#johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert smut #johnnie guilbert fanfiction #johnnie guilbert fic #johnnie guilbert fanfic #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert x you #johnnie guilbert x y/n #johnnie guilbert fluff #johnnie guilbert headcanons #johnnie and jake #jake and johnnie #jake webber #jake webber smut #jake webber fluff #jake webber x you #jake webber x reader #jake webber x y/n #jakle webber fanfic #jake webber fanfiction #tara yummy #youtubers #fanfic #streamers #twitch streamer

[rrxaiky]

𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘 - 𝐃𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆

WARNINGS/ TAGS: Pure fluff!!

── STAY WITH ME.

A/N: Thank @achy-boo for this. Hello yesnt I'm not exactly back from my hiatus. I'm half drunk rn so I typed this out.

HSR masterlist

Dan Heng wasn't a clingy lover. Not in public, not usually, never.

Well, there's always an exception to ‘never.’ Late at night, or early in the morning. Mostly the latter, when Dan Heng would be hugging you from behind and refusing to let you go.

Today was one of those days. The both of you were on the express in your room, because heaven forbid you get back pains from sleeping on Dan Heng’s makeshift bed. There weren't any particular things to do that day, so that only meant…

“Dan Heng, love, let me go, please..” you were trying your hardest not to sound annoyed right now. You really were, and instead of the release from the tight grip you were hoping for, you got a groan in response, and the grip tightened even more. In response, you tried to wriggle out of his grasp.

“Dan Heng, I agreed to get breakfast with Pom-pom and March today-” you didn't manage to finish your sentence before you were cut off by a sleepy yet familiar voice mumbling.

“Mine..”

You wanted to think of an appropriate response to him, even though your words would most likely fall on deaf ears, but before you could do anything, you felt something snake itself around your waist – Dan Heng’s tail.

“We stayed up late last night. Stay with me.” You knew then there was no way you'd be able to get out of this, and you could only sign as you closed your eyes and drifted back to sleep.

No, Dan Heng wasn't a clingy lover. Not in public, not usually, not ever.

But that was for the public to think. To you, he was the clingiest person alive, and you wouldn't have him any other way.

RBs/ follows appreciated!!!

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr dan heng #hsr x reader #hsr imagines #honkai star rail imagines #dan heng x you #dan heng x reader #dan heng

[dhoranbolt]

Devilish

a/n: Happy (late) Valentine's! I suck at time management this was supposed to be out like a week ago lmao. Brought to you by that one Sukuna art, Fleabag, the songs Church/Devilish by Chase Atlantic, and really just my priest kink in general, yeah.

Disclaimer - I am not super religious forgive me if none of this makes sense lmao idk

Friendly reminder- if your age isn't easily accessible on your profile I will not be tagging you! That said if you'd like a tag in future works let me know and I'll add you to the list!

Bestie beta reader: @yukios-medic ily ma'am as always you keep me sane 🥹💙

Pairing: priest!Sukuna x fem!reader

cw/tw: minors/ageless blogs DNI, priest kink, degradation, reader is called good girl, oral (female receiving) unprotected sex, cream pie, dirty talk

Word count: 5.7k

She’s seen him around the coffee shop she frequents every once in a while. ‘Gorgeous’ might be an understatement – maybe ‘sculpted by the gods’ would be a more accurate description.

He’s tall, muscular, from what she can tell under his loose-fitting tee and jeans. She swears she’s not gawking, but with the tattoos that line his face and arms, so intricate yet simple, his fluffy pink hair, could anyone really blame her for staring a second too long?

He’s so breathtaking, she might just be showing up to the coffee shop more often than she used to just in the hopes of glimpsing him a little longer. Maybe in a different t-shirt, maybe in a suit– okay stop.

She’s decided to take a seat while she waits for her order to be called out, not having paid particular attention to who from the list of regulars she sees strewn about the shop.

“Order for Father Kuna!” She huffs a small laugh out as the barista calls the name with such a straight face, and then pink hair is blocking the view. Her breath catches in her throat the moment he turns around to walk back to his table with a grin, and their eyes meet. Her heart jumps into her throat, but the moment is only that- a moment, and then he’s moving out of her view, back to the table of other men laughing as he rejoins their group.

She chances a look that way to see a man with long black hair, and another with short white hair. She looks away before any of them can feel her eyes on them. It was enough that he was so attractive, but all three of them?

It’s not the first time she’s seen him smile, but it is the first time he’s looked at her, smile widening as they lock eyes.

–

Granted, it’s only Tuesday, this whole week has been one inconvenience after another, and her visit to the coffee shop is not an exception. In her rush to find caffeine, she’d neglected to bring her wallet with her. So, imagine her surprise when she moves to pull it from her purse and pay, only to notice it missing.

She’s huffing as she frantically looks through the bag again. The cashier in front of her looks bored, like this is probably not the first time this exact situation has taken place today, and if the world could just open up and swallow her whole right now, that would be great–

“I can pay, if you can’t find your wallet.” A voice calls from behind her, and if her cheeks weren’t already red from embarrassment at her current situation, they would be now.

Turning to look at the owner of the voice, she’s met with an abdomen, and as she follows it up, black tattoos come into view, and so does pink hair, and are his eyes red–

“Oh, please no, it’s fine I’ll just–” He laughs, and she feels like every inconvenience in her life could just melt away at the sound.

“I insist. Besides, what kind of good Samaritan would I be if I left a damsel without the caffeine she looks like she might break down without?” Her face scrunches up at his comment, but before she can question it, he’s stepping past her to order his own drink and pay.

“I was joking, by the way. About the caffeine comment. I’m sorry if it came across rude, you just looked a little you could have used a laugh. Long week?” She laughs and nods as they wait off to the side for their drinks.

“The longest. And thank you for paying, really you didn’t have to, but I appreciate it, nonetheless.” He grins again and her heart might actually jump out of her chest at just how painfully gorgeous this man is.

“It’s no issue, I like helping people where I can.”

“Well, I’m going to pay you back after this, just so you know.” He chuckles and shakes his head.

“There’s no need, we’ll say I just did it out of the kindness of my heart and leave it at that.”

“I don’t like feeling like I owe people.”

“Then don’t feel that way.” She lets out an exasperated huff as she looks up at him, but he’s grinning down at her again.

“Okay fine, fine. How about this? How about you can pay me back, by meeting me… Here.” He says as he scribbles an address out for her on a napkin. He hands it over, and she takes it with a raised brow, looking at the unfamiliar street name and number.

“You want me to bring your money to an address I’ve never been to before?” And there’s a sparkle in his eyes as he looks down at her.

“I don’t even know you.”

“Sure you do,” he says with a nod, continuing on, “I’m Sukuna, the devilishly handsome coffee shop patron who doubles as your knight in shining armor for today.” She laughs as he grins.

“Okay, well, what makes you think you know me?” And he pretends to think for a minute.

“Well lets see, I’ve seen you around this little shop long enough to know that you’re a woman of your word.”

“How, this is the first time we’ve ever exchanged words.” She scoffs another laugh.

“Oh so you have noticed me around then?” And anything she says next would give away the fact she did notice him around, so her jaw opens and closes silently as she debates on what to say next.

“I-” And she’s saved by the barista interrupting her derailed train of thought.

“Order for Ryomen!” He moves to the pickup bar, taking the two drinks in hand and walking back to her.

“Meet me there tonight, seven fifteen.” And she’s still trying to register what’s even really happening as he hands her the cup.

“What is this like a date?” The words leave her mouth before she can stop them, and she bites her tongue as he chuckles.

“Yeah, something like that. Just come, then consider your drink paid for.” And how could she say no to him?

“Okay sure,” she laughs nervously, “I’ll be there, Sukuna.” And she savors the way his name sounds, rolling off her tongue.

“I’m looking forward to it, enjoy your drink.” He says with a smirk, before leaving her in the coffee shop. Sitting down at a nearby table, she pulls out her phone to look up the address she’d just agreed to meet a semi-total stranger at, and when it loads on her map she’s left even more confused than before – it’s the address to a church.

–

She’s sitting in the parking lot of the church, staring at the doors in contemplation. She’s not very religious, but the curiosity of finding out just what he could possibly be asking her here for, is why she’s making her way to said doors once the first few groups of people pass. She laughs to herself at the mental image of the church setting her ablaze the second she steps in.

Looking around at everyone sitting down, she’s searching for pink hair, but doesn’t see it. For church on a Tuesday night, the place is almost packed. She barely finds a seat with breathing room from the sea of faces around her.

‘It is only eight past seven though, maybe I’m just early.’ She thinks, trying to calm her rising nerves. What is she even doing here? It was so easy for a handsome stranger to coax her into following him to some random church, surely this was not the stellar survival instinct of someone who doesn’t get serial murdered.

The minutes tick by, and she’s about to just get up and leave, mortification starting to settle at the fact she believed he would even show up, when a familiar voice gathers all attention to the front of the room, and she freezes.

What exactly is she supposed to make of the sight before her? Black tattoos, pink hair, muscular body, covered up in black clothing, complete with the white tab collar. If the building wasn’t going to set her on fire before, it surely would now.

“Good evening, everyone. For those of you that are joining us for the first time tonight, I’m Father Ryomen.”

He’s looking out into the crowd as he speaks, eyes scanning the rows of people for her. When his eyes land on her, her breath catches in her throat, shivers running through her entire body.

‘There is no way in hell that I am horny in church right now.’ But there is a way, and his lip is currently curling up at the corner as he looks at her.

So, she sits for the next hour and a half, listening to the sound of his voice as he goes on through his sermon, not retaining anything except for how smooth his voice sounds, booming off the walls. He gives his closing words, and everyone around her begins to get up. Some filter out, most stay back to chat with him, and she decides to wait until there is no longer a line leading up to him.

The last big group of people finish up, and she’s finally had ample time to process the image before her as she makes her way toward him against the leaving crowd.

“You made it.” He says with a warm smile, and her stomach twists.

“I won’t lie, I thought you were joking still when I realized it was a church. So, a priest, huh?” He laughs with a nod.

“Forgive me, father, if I didn’t take you for the type.” Sukuna smirks down at her, and for a second, she swears there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes. It’s gone just as soon though, and she chalks it up to the lighting.

“Most people don’t, with the tattoos and all. I don’t mind, though. I use it as a way to show it is not our place to cast judgment upon others. But services are over, please, just call me Sukuna.”

“How very religious of you, Sukuna.” She hums.

“And what about you, then?”

“Honestly? I’ve never been very religious.” She shrugs, ‘but I can see why the people at this church would be’.

“And yet I talked you into coming? Surely that’s got to mean something.” He jokes as he rests a hand on her arm for a second.

“It does, if I’m not mistaken, my drink is now paid for in full.”

“Hah.” He fake laughs, and the sound makes her stomach flutter as she looks around.

“I should probably get going though, I think we’re the last two here.” She notes, seeing the fact everyone else has filtered out of the church, before looking back up at him.

“Why don’t you stay with me and lock up, I want to show you something.” Conscious of the fact she still doesn’t really know him, she raises an eyebrow at him, searching his face for any ill-intent.

“It’s nothing bad, I promise. I don’t bite, if that’s what you’re worried about.” And she doesn’t sense anything bad about him, his words seem genuine. There’s something about him though, she can’t quite place. It doesn’t set off alarm bells, but it piqued her interest, making her stomach knot in anticipation.

So, she follows him. Chatting about nothing in particular as he tidies around, and they lock up the church for the night.

“You know, I would have never in my wildest dreams, guessed priest.” He threw her a smile.

“So what did you dream about me then?” Her cheeks burn, and she busies herself with the now very interesting chip in her nail polish as she flounders for a response. But he hooks his finger under her chin, grabbing her attention.

“Hey, I’m kidding.” He says, leaning down to catch her eye, and her heart stops. She’s not sure what she’s doing as she stares back into scarlet eyes, but the air around them changes. Suddenly, it’s thick with desire, so thick she could almost choke on it. And she can feel the gap between them slowly closing- he licks his lips, eyes glancing down at her own for just a second.

“C’mon, we’re not done yet.” He says softly, before pulling away. Her head is swimming, was she just about to kiss the hot coffee shop priest inside the church, no less? But she doesn’t dwell, he’s already moving to the other end of the hall, and she’s quick to catch up.

“It’s usually one of the other two fathers and myself,” he explains as he moves through the church, checking doors and tidying up as he goes. “unfortunately they’re both out this week.”

“And that leaves poor Father Ryomen to take care of the church all by himself?” She teases, and he scoffs.

“They’re unreliable as it is. Though the current company isn’t an undesirable exchange.” He winks at her, and not for the first time tonight, she wonders why he’s called her here.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“To repay your drink from earlier.” She rolls her eyes with a smile.

“That is so not why you dragged a stranger to your church.”

“Why do you think I dragged you here then, hmm?” He whispers, eyes slipping down to her lips again before searching her face.

“And I already told you, we aren’t strangers.” As he says it, it really does feel true. She doesn’t feel out of place next to him, doesn’t feel like she shouldn’t be here, even if this is the first time she’s stepped into a church in years. She takes his shift in conversation and runs with it, not answering his previous question. The thought he’d brought her here for anything other than to listen to him preach was starting to take hold, and she’d rather not read the room wrong and tell him what she was really thinking.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been to church, I thought maybe I’d be struck down the moment I made it inside.” She laughs, stepping past the door he holds open for her into a new room.

“Have you ever done confession before?” He asks, moving to refill the holy water.

“Can’t say that I have, but I get the gist of it.”

“Enlighten me.” He’s glancing at her with a stern look on his face as he caps the bottle.

“You sit on one side, us sinners sit on the other.” and at that he cracks a smile, chuckling.

“Keep going, you’re on the right track.”

“And, they tell them to you and you forgive them on god's behalf.” He shakes his head, still smiling.

“Want to give it a go?” She looks at him with an arched brow, and this time she laughs.

“You did this on purpose didn’t you, paid for my drink to get me into a booth. I’m almost positive that falls under coercion, y’know.”

“Oh c’mon, just try it. Don’t you trust me?” And there it is again, that mischievous glint in his eyes that makes heat pool in her lower stomach. She bites her lip.

“No I trust you just fine Sukuna, I just-” But he’s placing a hand at the small of her back, leading her to the booth at the front of the room.

“What are you doing?”

“Going to wash you from years of sin.” He whispers as he leans down to her ear, and a shiver runs through her.

“You’re joking-”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” And he’s reaching over her to slide the curtain aside, motioning for her to sit.

“I don’t think-”

“Then don’t. Be a good girl, have a seat.” Her stomach flips at his words, and there’s that smirk again. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing to her. What could humoring him hurt? She’s moving, brushing past his reach to sit on the hard wood. He gives her a nod, closing the curtain.

“I’ll be right on the other side, then I’ll talk you through it.” 'I bet you would' and the words are flashing in her mind before she can stop them. Maybe five hours ago, before she knew he’d sworn himself to a life of celibacy and Jesus, his hands all over her had been attainable. But now? This just felt like torture- and yet here she was. Being a good girl for him, and sitting in his booth.

She chews her lip, shifting her thighs together.

“Nervous?” He asks, hearing the noise. She stops moving, shame washing over herself. Not only was she trying to relieve some of the tension between her legs in a church- Sukuna could hear it.

“Y-yeah, something like that.” She laughs, putting her hands to her face.

“You have nothing to worry about. Sinning is innately human, that’s why you come to me.” And did she really come to him? Certainly not for this, but again, here she was. When he realized she wasn’t going to speak up again, he continued.

“Let’s start off with this, just say what you can read off the little plaque there.”

“Sukuna-”

“Aht aht,’ he cuts her off “I’m Father, in the booth, little one.” Heat pools between her legs at his tone. It’s playful but firm, and she can’t help the way she’s biting her lip to not make a sound. She follows his instructions, and- this feels ridiculous, what are they doing exactly? Why is she still doing it?

“What are they?”

“I don’t,” she wracks her brain for an answer. Being here in the first place, premarital sex, lusting for a priest, lusting for said priest while in the church.. The list was long, and she wasn’t sure saying it aloud would make the dull ache she was currently feeling any better.

“Don’t be shy now.” And he says now like he knew something she didn’t, about what was really going on here.

“I’ve watched Twilight.” It’s the first thing to come to her mind that doesn’t elude to the fact she’s going home to stuff a dildo into her aching walls while she thinks about him tonight. The answer catches him off guard, and he chuckles. Turning to the wicker wall dividing them. She can’t physically see him looking at her, but she can feel his eyes on her through the divider.

“Twilight, really?” Her cheeks turn pink, and she looks right back at him.

“Look I read it was like, devil worship according to the church in some article, okay?” He shakes his head with a smile.

“The woman who I met in the coffee shop just doesn’t strike me as the type to watch vampire movies, is all.” He teases.

“Oh like you’ve never watched a single fantasy movie.” He’s quiet now, and she blinks.

“… Not a single one, ever? Isn’t lying a sin, Father?” She challenges.

“We should stick to the topic at hand, sinner.” Her jaw drops and she scoffs in disbelief.

“Okay, well, the next one is that I have tattoos.” She can just imagine the look on his face right now.

“That’s a common one.”

“I’m still surprised they let you, with the tattoos.” She notes, smoothing out her dress over her thighs.

“I can be very convincing, when I need to be.”

“What is that like code for something?”

“My charm helps, even the little old ladies got over them when I flashed a nice smile.”

“I’m sure you’re very popular with all the grandmas.” She laughed.

“Not as popular as Father Gojo, but he’s always been the type to flirt with most things that have legs, regardless of age.” And he has to keep from rolling his eyes or talking any further down on the white haired man.

“I thought flirting was like, forbidden in your religion.”

“Not necessarily forbidden. frown upon, sure, side-eyed possibly.” She could live with side-eyed, hell she could live with frowned upon too. She wasn’t the one that took an oath of never sticking her dick in someone else. But she was the one that decided she wanted a priest of all people, to stick their dick in her. That wasn’t much better for her in the long run though.

“I think that about covers all my transgressions up to this point. Hey, does it still work if I confess to something I eventually will do? I think that’s a much better way to run this whole thing.” Sukuna chuckles, she’s definitely warmed up to being here with him, he can tell in the way she speaks so freely.

“That covers everything huh? Sure you’re not missing anything?”

“Like what?”

“How about, ’I’ve been eyeing up a priest for the past month now’.”

“I- what?” Her voice catches in her throat, jaw dropping and face burning. This visit had just taken a left turn, there was no way he’d just said that.

“Go on, say it. Unless of course, I’m wrong? Just remember, lying is a sin.” She can hear the smirk in his voice, but he doesn’t stop.

“Maybe, ‘I’m so turned on I can’t even sit still’.” Her breath catches in her throat- how could he have known that.

“Or how about, ‘I’ve even made a priest question where his loyalties lie’.” Her body was hot, a fire growing in the pit of her stomach. She takes a shallow breath, mouth feeling dry. She was going to have to answer him at some point, situational whiplash or not. She might as well try to level the playing field while she was at it,

“I’ll own up to mine, but not yours.” He chuckles, and it’s deep, ringing in her ears.

“Perhaps we should switch sides of the booth then.” Listening to a hot priest tell her just how into him she was, wasn’t exactly how she’d imagined tonight going. But when she really thought about it, what other way could tonight have gone?

She heard him shifting on his side, before the curtain was being drawn back. And her handsome, well put together priest, was no longer looking quite so put together anymore.

His hair looked like he’d been running his fingers through it, shoulders moving in sync with his breathing as he gripped the side of the booth.

“Lust is a sin too- but sometimes I just can’t help myself.” She swallowed hard at his words, frozen in place as she stared up at him, red eyes burning into her.

“I can always get on my knees, ask god's forgiveness afterwards.”

“Sukuna…” And she’s watching him slowly sink to the floor before her. Even as she looks down at him, she doesn’t get the feeling that she’s the one in charge of this situation. He moves forward, caging her against the back of the booth, his face inches away.

He looks so different from what she normally sees at the coffee shop; lips twitching up in a smirk as he reaches over to caress her cheek. He certainly doesn’t look anything like a priest, let alone a respectable one. He looks devilish, like he’s been waiting for an opportunity to get her here. And she can’t say it’s not exactly where she wants to be.

He leans closer to pull her into a kiss. The first one is slow, tentative, even though they’re both so clearly worked up. Pulling back to look her in the eyes he searches them, before they both crash their lips together.

“Mmm- wait- wait!” She can barely get the words out against his mouth, pressing her hands against his chest. He pulls back, looking at her in concern that he’d over stepped.

“What about- what if someone sees us?” The concern on her face that someone would catch them doing this, and not the fact that they’re still going to, is so cute of her.

“We locked the doors, didn’t we?” He grins and lets out a breathless laugh as the realization crosses her face. The son of a bitch planned this whole thing. He dips back in to claim her lips again, hands traveling down her sides to her ass, sliding her to the edge of the seat.

“From the moment I first laid eyes on you, I knew you’d be the reason.” He’s pressing kisses along her jaw, down her neck, anywhere he can reach.

“What?” She breaths, not really hearing him as her eyelids flutter. She’s too wrapped up in the whole situation, in how soft but firm his palm feels against her face as she leans into his touch. How wrong but right it feels for him to touch her, even just like this.

“Knew I’d stumble,” His thumb traces her bottom lip, tugging it down, and she opens her mouth instinctively. He’s using the grip on her jaw to turn her face to the side, planting kisses below her ear as she shutters, whining at the feeling.

“It’s like you knew, walking into a church wearing a dress. Walking into my church, wearing that dress. Did you wear it because you caught me staring a little longer when you would?” He’s rough, pressing his lips along her neck, across her chest, sucking, biting his way further down her body.

Her head is spinning. This was wrong, wasn’t it? But the fact it was wrong only turned her on more. She’d never wanted, needed, someone to fuck her so badly before. His hands are everywhere, kneading her chest, pinching at her hardening nipples.

“I asked you a question.” Sukuna’s still pinching at her bud, and she can barely concentrate enough to whimper a ‘yes’.

“Yes what?”

“Yes… Yes… I wore it just for you.” He sucks his teeth with a grin.

"Be a good girl and keep your eyes on me, I want to see them.” He pulls away from her and slips further down, running his hands from her knees up her thighs, pushing her dress up as he does. She’s instinctively parting her legs, letting him ghost his lips up the inside of her thigh. Sukuna presses his thumb against the wet spot on her panties, looking up to see her squirming closer as he does.

“Patients is a virtue, sweetheart.” He warns as he drags the lacy fabric down, discarding it off to the side. She huffs with a pout,

He presses his thumb to her clit, rubbing slow circles as she twitches below him.

He rubs a finger through her slick folds, slowly pushing into her. It's easy, she's so wet, whining for him so needily, and he's already working a second one in.

"Eyes on me, you're going to look at me while I make you cry." She could finish right here, he was so calm yet demanding. Scissoring his fingers inside of her he moved his thumb, dropping his mouth over her clit as he sucked.

Her thighs are fighting to close against him as he slides his fingers into her, tongue moving in slow circles. It's cramped in the booth, but Sukuna still finds the space to use his arms to hold her legs open. She's biting her lip so hard as she watches him, body tense. Her grip on his hair is tight, and she doesn't know if she's trying to pull him closer or push him away as the pleasure builds in her abdomen.

Sukuna doesn't stop as he feels every part of her clench, her body rigid and she takes everything he's giving her. He's sucking as he moves his tongue just a little faster, fingers sliding in and out of her slick cunt as he curls them inside of her. Her back arches, legs shaking as her walls clamp down on his fingers, pulsing as her orgasm washes over her. She's gripping his pink hair, trying as hard as she can to keep her eyes on him as he works her through it.

He's watching her with determination, listening to her cry his name, as his cock strained in his pants. With a few more shallow pumps of his fingers he pulls out and she whines.

"Greed is a sin too, sweetheart." He says as he lifts his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean. She breathes in softly as she watches, the low grown leaving his mouth making her stomach flip.

"Taste divine, I'd keep you here for hours if I could." He moans, pressing his mouth to her glistening cunt as he lapped her clean. She cried out at the over stimulation, hands flying to his head, trying to push him away. He simply takes both her wrists in his hand, holding them at bay.

"Try to stop me again, and it'll be a long night for you in this booth." He warns, pulling back to look at her. A rush floods her body at the thought, and he's leaning up to kiss her again. She's eager to return it, lacing her fingers through the hair at his nape.

Sukuna pulls her up on shaky legs, turning them so he can sit down instead, pulling her to straddle him. He presses her down over his clothed bulge, grinding up into her as he pulls away.

"You gonna be a good girl and have a seat?" She whines, grinding right back down onto him with a nod as she runs her hands down his chest, fumbling with his belt. He rubs his hands up and down her sides as she works, whimpers of frustration falling from her lips as she works on his pants.

"Patients is still a virtue." He hums, kissing the side of her neck. She can feel how thick he is even over his pants, but she's not ready for just how thick he actually is when she works him out of his clothes. Her jaw drops with a gasp as she runs her thumb over his slit, already dripping with precum. Sukuna hisses, hand flying down to grip her own. 

"I said sit." He says, gripping her hips to lift her over him.

"You're so-"

"I'll fit, don't worry." He soothes as he moves her, rubbing his head between her folds a few times before slowly pulling her down. Her hands fly to his shoulders, gripping tight as he slowly stretches her out, making room for himself as he breaks her open over him.

"Sukuna, Sukuna!" She whimpers.

"You're doing so well, look at you." He praises, brushing his thumb over her cheek. She doesn't think she can take anymore, and yet her walls are practically sucking him further in, begging for more. God no one's ever felt like this before, he filled every space inside of her.

And then the back of her thighs are flush against his own, as he slowly rocks into her.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" He coos, and she shakes her head, mind already hazy from the pleasure.

"No." She whimpers, and rolls her hips with a cry.

"Fuck you're so much." She sobs, body shaking.

"Yeah? But you're going to take it." And he's pulling out, only to slam back up into her. She screams, nails digging into his arms as he holds her. He sets a steady pace, and after the first few thrusts she starts to move too, bouncing herself over him, pushing him further into her tight heat everytime their hips meet.

Sukuna pulls the top of her dress down, sucking a nipple into his mouth. All she can do is moan and grind harder down into him. Looking down between them she watches as he disappears into her, and it should be terrifying, just how much of him there is- yet she's accommodating every thick inch. And then she sees it when he pulls away from her chest- the bulge in her lower abdomen. She takes a shaken breath, and presses down on it.

“Oh my god fuck!” she whines, throwing her head back as her legs shake.

“When I’m this deep in you, the only God you should be crying for is me.” Sukuna growls, fingers digging into her sides to hold her in place as he fucked up into her. She clenched around him at his words and he grinned.

“Oh she liked that, did she?”

“Sukuna-! Fuck I’m gonna cum!” She cried, nails digging into his arms. He drank in the way she looked, jaw dropped in a silent moan, lip quivering. He wasn’t going to last much longer either, with the way her walls fluttered around him, sucking him deeper with every thrust.

“Where should I-”

“Fuck- inside, I don’t care just please-” She was shaking her head, rolling her hips into him as she babbled. Sukuna gripped her chin, forcing her attention on him.

“Say it again, like you mean it. Like you want it.”

“Please Sukuna, finish inside me. Wanna feel you inside me!” Her walls clamped down hard around him as she cried. He lifted a hand to wrap it behind her head, pulling her forehead against his own.

“There it is, take it. Be a good girl and cum for me.” He growled, watching as she came undone before him; jaw dropped in a silent moan as she pulsed around him. Sukuna fucked her through her orgasm, sending him right over the edge into his own. She whined at the feeling of him painting her insides in hot spurts, grinding further into him as they both pant.

It was quiet, aside from their breathing as they came down from the high, lustful haze being left behind. She cleared her throat, realizing they’d have to clean up the mess that was going to drip out of her.

“Well…” She started, beginning to pull back when Sukuna stopped her.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The question takes her aback as she stutters for an answer.

“I just- I thought- the mess…?” He grins lazily up at her, swiping a thumb over her bottom lip.

“Did you really think I brought you here just for one fuck?”

“Technically you brought me here over coffee.” She giggled, leaning into his palm.

“Leave your wallet at home more often then.” He demands, and she swallows hard, gasping as he bucks up into her again.

Tags: @saiki-enthusiast @alice-smutthoughts @idktbhloley @rezitio @matchat3a @mo0nforme @bleach-your-panties @fateisnotafactor @lov3ly-bunny @antishadow2021 @xo-evangeline @ackachii @tiredravenette @carpioassists @yoongislatinagff @unoriginalidea @i-likebread @squishybabei @emyyy007 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @kokushibosgirl @wishandluck @kimchi-zaks @kyriekurokami @not-brionnne @andic137 @tang3r1n @mammon-s @yuujispinkhair

#jjk #sukuna jjk #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna #sukuna smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #priest Sukuna #priest kink #jjk smut #late night sukuna posting #sukuna hcs

[sevilai]

Auuhg okay I'm caving and posting these

Very shortly after I made This Piece my brain took it and ran with it into an entire AU! I wanted to make a kind of introduction post to the concept, but I think I know myself well enough to know that waiting will just end in my never doing it lol So I'll just talk about it here!

This AU is based around the idea that instead of using void to defeat the Radiance, the king's plan was instead to raise an army of godlings. Not empty vessels meant to contain her, but vessels of holy light meant to literally outshine her.

They're a little different biologically of course. They are perfect unions of godly power unmarred by void. They look more like you'd expect and behave more like you'd expect; they speak, they feel, they have a will of their own. They share both their parents incandescence. They're a bit strange, most of them seeming aloof or detached, like their minds are always somewhere else. It’s thought amongst castle staff that the godly light within them gives them access to a higher plane of thought, one that’s far more intriguing to them than any mortal woes.

They also seem to have inherited a particular, special ability from their father(which is a special tool we'll use later!)

This the first vessel of the army, the firstborn of the royal family. With the sheer number of vessels born, the king gave up on naming them all, but holding this hatchling in his hands, he knew that this child would be Worthwhile. Also known as Worthy, Double, or much to their dismay, Father's Favorite. They know well their purpose and they are proud to lead their siblings as their commander.

Honestly my story for this AU centers a little more around Ghost and Hornet, but I have a lot of THOUGHTS and FEELINGS about all the other vessels as they grew up and I want to explore it more! I do have more art and MUCH more lore but I'll save it for later posts.

I'll be tagging everything about it as the "Outshine AU" as I work with it!

#for a little further explanation on the nickname “Double” #It's because “Double-W” sounds really obnoxious and their siblings just dropped the W part lol #And it also works with the double F! #my art #hollow knight #hollow knight thk #hk thk #hk the hollow knight #hk hollow #hk pure vessel #pure vessel #the hollow knight #hollow knight au #alternate universe #au design #hk au #Outshine AU #id in alt text

[bardic-inspo]

Blood in the Mortar

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x Vampire Bride Tav

Rating: Explicit (Smut!!)

Key Tags: Vampire/Blood Bride Lore, Service Dom Astarion, Sexy Use of Telepathic Bond, Evil Power Couple, Torturing a Captive, Choking, Biting/Blood, Masquerade, PIV, Cunnilingus

Summary:

“I wanted to see you right where you belong,” Astarion whispers, the sound as sheer as the lace he wrecked. “So beautiful on your throne.” It started on Naomi’s knees, this new life of passion and pleasure unbridled. Astarion didn’t know he’d be hers, just as much as she’d be his, when he bit her thrice, bled her dry, and gave her just one drop of his ascended blood.

Cross-posting from my AO3 account. This is my first BG3 smut fic. If you like it, I'd love to know! Click here if you'd prefer to read on AO3.

“To whom can a vampire bare its soul and admit its fears? From whom can it receive consolation for the past, comfort for the present, and hope for the future?...The vampire is drawn emotionally to a mortal and decides, because of the strength of this emotion, to make her his bride…The happiness of the vampire becomes tied up with the prospective bride, and its well-being depends on hers.”

-Van Richten’s Monster Hunter’s Compendium, Vol 1

Astarion twists the stem of his wine glass, idly tilting the contents within. His assorted guests warp in the bulb of it, swaying between rosy red and clear crystal.

A gravelly voice interrupts his game. “Quite the menagerie you’ve gathered here, Lord Ancunín.”

Astarion doesn’t bother to stifle his sigh. There’s no mistaking him as the lord of the house, even masked as he is. Astarion’s ensemble this evening is pitch dark velvet swirled in crimson thread and snaking silver. His mask glimmers in the same shade of scaled metal, set to complement the curve of his cheekbones, with only miniscule, twinkling rubies encrusting the edges. Nothing meant to outshine the searing color of his eyes. The mask might be silver, but it’s a red dragon Astarion embodies for this particular masquerade.

This party’s for more monstrous company, after all.

No expense was spared for the ‘menagerie’. A grand piano, polished to an opalescent white, plays under spectral hands at the heart of the ballroom alongside a string quartet. A starlit Baldur’s Gate glistens outside the windowed east wall, framed in gold drapery to match the shimmering flecks in the white marble floor. Lavish wine and better blood pour freely; his guests have only to lift their empty glasses to have them brimming again.

Even with all the ornate masks, in the shapes of creatures exotic or fierce, none of the fangs in the room are fake. All the titles are, save for his and his consort’s. Astarion’s lip curls with distaste.

This masquerade was meant for nobility of a supernatural stature. Vampires, warlocks, lycanthropes. Those who lead them. But what his doors received were lowly spawn. Servants sent in their masters’ stead to get just a glimpse of the one and only vampire ascendant, and then to scurry back and tell tale of him. Cowards.

There’s only one human here who’s just human.

Astarion offers him a well-practiced shrug of a laugh. “I do hope you don’t feel out of place among us more…colorful sorts. Lord…? Forgive me, what was it again?”

“Isn’t the point of a masquerade not to bother with such trivialities?” The stranger chuckles hastily. “In any case, I am not lord. Only a humble apprentice to the most renowned wizard Waterdeep has to offer.”

Ah, yes. The invitation was sent for the newly named archmage, filling the god-shaped hole Gale left behind in the wake of his own ascension. Astarion’s eyes flit over the lanky, unkempt apprentice who addresses him instead.

His hair hangs in honey blonde waves past his shoulders, like the mane of the beast he seeks to imitate. It’s a lion’s mask the apprentice wears. Perhaps a poor attempt at humor. The effort would’ve been better paid towards penance, and a sheep’s head would’ve suited him far better than the guise of a predator. Anything would’ve been more fitting than the baggy business he calls a shirt.

Astarion clicks his tongue. “That still doesn’t give me a thing to call you.”

“I am Enrik, if it pleases you.”

“No surname?” Astarion asks with an arched brow.

“None of consequence, my lord,” he replies with the uneasy edge Astarion’s entitled to.

“Well, Enrik, I hope you find our masquerade pleasing.”

“It has certainly been enlightening thus far.”

“And how’s that?” Astarion asks brusquely. He never did like wizards.

He doesn’t like the look on this one’s face, either. The lion that should be a sheep surveys the room with a pitying expression, like he’s watching some petty amusement. A zoo. Gods, or a circus. And what would that make him, Astarion the Ascended, if not a clown? Astarion’s fingers tighten on the stem of his glass, an imperceptible change to any eyes not keen enough to catch it.

“Why, it’s been only a year since your ascension,” Enrik says. “You’ve accomplished much in short order. It’s quite remarkable.”

Astarion’s nose twitches. Praise. From cattle. How quaint, and ill-fitting.

His expression abruptly eases. A refined, familiar scent carries to him from across the crowd. A note of lavender, twined with his favored bergamot.

“And you’ve already enthralled some truly magnificent specimens,” Enrik carries on, oblivious. “Take this fine creature, for example. What a pretty thing to have strung along on your leash.”

Astarion feels her before he sees her. She wipes a palm down the sheath of her skirt, smoothing out some infinitesimal wrinkle. The music smooths, too. With that one simple motion, it bends and blends into something deeper, fuller. All of the lesser spawn of Astarion’s making straighten their slouched shoulders.

He feels the tug of her in his head, and then the cool stroke of her hand to his back, the soothing feel of her fingers combing through his hair, and the gentle scrape of her nails against his scalp. It takes a concerted effort to suppress the pleased groan that bubbles in the back of his throat. All this from across the room, without so much as a glance, let alone a touch.

Hello, darling, he thinks, and she hears it just as if he’d spoken aloud. Aren’t you ravishing?

Her skirt is snow-white crepe that clings taut to her shapely hips before fanning out at her feet. It’s the same lovely shade of ivory as her hair, twisted in a braid like a crown around her head, with the rest falling sleek down her back. A black lace bodice sets just off her lilac shoulders, with gloves to match. Floral stitching vees down from her waistline. The same embellishments decorate the skirt’s edges.

His dark consort, his Naomi once-Tavriel-now-Ancunín, weaves leisurely through the partygoers. The thorny prickle of Astarion’s irritation inspires a little lift at the corner of her mouth.

I’ve been called so much worse, she thinks. It sounds suspiciously like a laugh. I think you called me ‘creature’ just yesterday. Should I not have taken it as a compliment?

Astarion’s scowls. He should be grateful to have your name in his mouth. To even set foot in our home. Let alone speak to me like that. Or at all.

But think of how much fun he’s started, she answers, chipper. You were so bored before.

She’s not wrong.

If they’re not the guests you wanted, Naomi continues, cool and calm, then they’re intruders, aren’t they? Whatever should we do with them?

A slow smile steals its way onto his lips. Just when I thought I couldn’t love you more. Miracles never cease.

“Do you know what they call her?” Astarion says aloud, to worse company. “Other than mine, of course.”

“She was the hero of Baldur’s Gate.”

Astarion waves a manicured hand irritably, as if swatting away a stray fly. “One of them, true, but isn’t there another name that comes to mind?”

The man swallows thickly. “The Siren of the Sword Coast.”

"And yet here you are," Astarion sneers, "ready to dash yourself upon the rocks like a little ship blown astray. I can hardly blame you."

His eyes soften, just past the shoulder of Enrik’s gaudy doublet. In the low flutter of candlelight, he spies the sheen of amethysts set among delicate feathers wrought from silver. He'd had the mask made for Naomi with the likeness of a swan in mind.

Still, as pretty as it is, his favorite gleam is those eyes. She still kept the kiss of violet in them, even in death. It mingles with the red in her irises, like a rich, dark wine.

"She is captivating, isn’t she?" Astarion sighs, a faint smile grazing his lips. "My beautiful bride."

“Forgive me my lord, I meant no offense,” Enrik says, eyes down with deference. “I’m merely an admirer of fine things. And a messenger for my fine master.”

“Do your duty, then,” Astarion says tersely, his smile evaporating.

“My master understands that power is the only currency that holds any weight for men of your making. He has much of it to share, if you're likewise inclined.”

Astarion laughs coldly. “And what does your master wish for me to share with him, exactly? I don’t bite just anyone, after all.”

A swallow bobs in Enrik’s throat. “He only means to make mutual use of your shared arsenal. Like you mean to make of his, my lord. He could work wonders with even just one scream. He could bottle it--”

Astarion clenches the wine glass in a chokehold. He could kill this wretched cretin here, now, bare-handed. Or have him drawn and quartered. Or--

No one knows their manners these days, Naomi sighs inside his head. But if you want to play along and see what this archmage would pay, I’ll--

Astarion’s jaw clenches. You won’t be screaming for him, little love.

It earns him an eyeroll. It wouldn’t be like that--

It won’t be at all. Astarions sends his answer with the weight of a stone.

He sips his wine, boring into Enrik with a hard stare. “Don’t you know swans make the most achingly beautiful music?”

Enrik’s eyes dart anxiously over Astarion’s burning ones. “Only just before they die, so the stories go.”

“Before someone does,” Astarion drawls, as the vintage seeps sweetly down his throat. “You see, my beloved, oh, she’s a monster, too. She so does love the taste of blood in her mouth, now that she’s supped of mine.”

Enrik edges back, shoulders hunched small like the prey he is. “I-I’m just a messenger my lord. Killing me after you’ve so graciously offered your hospitality would be the same as breaking a mirror. It would only cast ill luck on you and your house.”

A gloved hand wraps Enrik’s shoulder. He shirks from that delicate grip like it's scalding. At long last, he finds the decency to shut up.

Naomi’s fangs gleam like the bottle in her hand. “More wine?”

The white marble of the ballroom shimmers like freshly fallen snow. All the curtains are drawn back, cinched aside for good measure. Shadow and sunlight slice the floor in slanted strips. Gritty ash piles where the light lies, coils of rope strewn among the gray dust of guests gone for good.

Only one remains.

Sprawled motionless across the floor, Enrik lies nose-to-nose with the knife edge of day and darkness. It’s only a silhouette that keeps him from being swallowed by the glow. Only Astarion’s grace shades him.

The vampire ascendant cuts a sharp shadow before the arched windowpane. Brightness clings, soft as clouds, to his curls, his lean edges, and his jaw. His velvet coat crumples at his heels as if it were nothing more precious than the ash heaped around him. He’s blessedly bare from the waist-up, resplendent in the sunlight while he surveys his domain awash with it.

It calls to mind the man who took Naomi out into the woods all those months and nights ago. What he looked like when she woke and found his back arched, chin tilted skyward. What she’d do, and what little she wouldn’t, to see Astarion slip into bliss every day as easily as slipping out of a coat.

It’s Naomi’s grace that finally rouses their disheveled company. A rolling melody, played on piano, pours from her fingertips and crests with the morning birdsong drifting in. Enrik groans against the grain of it.

At once, the music cuts to quiet. Naomi’s hands hover over the keys, knuckles twitching in faint longing. Then, she turns on the bench and turns her attention towards her restless audience.

“Good morning,” she says brightly.

Enrik squints up at her. His brown eyes leak with the light, even though he’s sheltered from it. They dart across the room, skimming like stones over water, before they sear into Naomi.

“You.”

“Who else were you expecting? You’re in my home.”

Rope binds Enrik’s hands and heels. He tugs at the ties, or tries to. He hasn’t yet figured out it’s all for not.

Naomi stands, her heels clicking staccato to the tile. As she goes, she paints a palm over the piano keys, stroking each octave from root to rise. Music flows freely again all on its own, even when her hand falls away.

She comes to loom over her captive, lips pursed. “I hear you said some very rude things to my husband.”

Enrik folds against the floor, panting for breath.

“You should be so grateful for our hospitality,” she says. “Should have been. That’s all behind us now, isn’t it?”

Feral noise rips from his throat. Like a dog, he lunges, snapping for her ankles. She side-steps into the light, not bothering to flee any farther than an inch. He freezes, ogling the shiny toe of her shoe now parallel to his nose.

“You don’t fear the sun?” he gasps, quivering.

“I need not fear anything.”

Naomi lifts her head, meeting a scarlet stare brimming in equal measures affection and amusement. Sunlights melts over the bare of Astarion’s chest, spurring her tongue to wet her lips. He leans against the glass, head angled back, eyes slitted in satisfaction. A slow smile unfurls on his face.

“You should be grateful, too,” Naomi says with a sneer, “to lay here and not just a little to the left.”

“W-What do you mean? What did you do to me?!” Enrik’s eyes bulge. He squirms in a sudden panic, to no avail.

Naomi tilts her neck to the side and taps at the scar Astarion’s teeth marked her with. Her fingers fan down on her own throat, savoring the shape of that succulent memory. Of the last bite he gave her in life. Of his lips swirling comfort into her skin before sucking her down to the last drop. Of the look on his face, the awe he had, when she next woke.

The faintest leak of breath, soft as down, passes from Astarion’s mouth.

“You--you--! You turned me!” Her hostage sputters. Naomi frowns darkly.

“Oh not me,” Naomi snaps, incredulous. “I’m only a weak little spawn puppet, according to you. According to you, the only good thing I can do is scream. How could I manage to turn you without choking on my own leash?”

She gags for good measure. He doesn’t get the joke. He hasn’t caught on to the other joke yet. Which means she’s safe as can be, even this close. So long as she stands on the other edge of Astarion’s shadow.

Astarion turns. His silhouette twists with his movement. Enrik shrieks like a swine.

“Oh, that wasn’t good at all. You can do better.” Naomi presses out a strained sigh, crouching down to fist a hand in his hair and yank his head upright.

Enrik bares his teeth as if they aren’t dull and flat. “Filthy bitch!”

The insult doesn’t so much as chip Naomi’s serene composure, but it puts a twang in her head, along the invisible string that links her and Astarion. His anger lashes in her mind like a restless tail.

“What a vile little ingrate,” Astarion snarls.

She lets her hostage’s head roll from her palm, cheek smacking the tile. Enrik writhes against his restraints. Naomi clicks her tongue in reproach. I’ve barely even touched you yet.

Green magic threads between her gloved fingers, glittering. She snaps them and says, “Scream.”

And he does. Loud enough to drown out the crescendo coursing from the grand piano. Inside of Enrik’s skull, the song isn’t nearly so sweet. His back jerks up and away from the floor, head bent back, eyes torn wide in terror.

His cries pitch with the slink of Astarion’s shadow stretching nearer. Sunlight clings close behind his heels. Naomi’s fingers flex and the spell recedes.

Her magic leaves Enrik sniveling, inching like a worm away from the slice of light between Astarion’s legs. Astarion huffs softly. With a wave of his hand, a ghostly one apparates behind him and snags the curtains closed.

Astarion’s scent sweeps with his sleeve -- the sweetness of brandy, mingled with the woodsy smell of rosemary. His knuckles gently brush the side of Naomi’s cheek. Instinctively, she leans towards the touch.

“Precious thing,” Astarion chides with a pout. “You’re being far too sweet to him. Here I thought you only had room in your heart for me.”

Naomi inclines her head, eyes narrowing by a hair. “My sire would see me be crueler?”

Astarion’s thumb grazes her lips. At once, she parts for him, teasing the pad of it with her tongue while he toys with the tip of a fang. He presses in, watching his skin bend to near-breaking, as if to test her sharpness. Before any blood’s drawn, he draws his hand down to cradle her chin. His voice is smooth as satin, though his stare is a hardened one.

“Your sire would see you spoken to with the respect you’re owed. And he needs you to kneel, dear one.”

The words are a weight to her shoulder, easing her down. But the heft is a comfort, not a compulsion. He could compel her, if he wanted to.

He hasn’t yet.

One day, she thinks, he will. And he’ll feel the weight of whatever chains he’d wrap her in through the bond that binds them tighter than the tadpole did. He won’t do it without good reason. Naomi doesn’t need a reason to kneel for her lover. That he wishes it is enough.

When her knees meet the ground, she feels the shape of Astarion’s smile pressed against their bond like it’s pressed, wet and wanting, against her mouth. She feels the dainty tug of his teeth coax her lips apart. Tastes the coppery tang of her own blood and the velvet undercurrent of his within her veins. The heat of him, still such a novel thing in his ascended body, bleeds from his skin to hers, fanning the newfound ache between her thighs.

In her mind, and his, his lips pour down her bare shoulders. His fingers fist in the fine fabric of her dress, ripping it to ruin. He leaves none of her untouched. To anyone else’s eye, they’re not even touching.

Naomi’s eyelids flutter. She downs a hard swallow. Good girl, he says, just for her.

To their captive audience, he spares no such kindness. Astarion raises his foot above Enrik’s ankles, letting it dangle for a moment. It drops like a hammer to an anvil. Enrik bucks with a fresh scream and a sickening crack.

“I’d never give a miserable little wretch like you the gift of immortality,” Astarion spits. “You wouldn’t know how to appreciate it.”

Confusion flits between the pain and panic in Enrik’s eyes.

“That’s right,” Astarion seethes. “You’re not a vampire. You aren’t worth my consort’s teeth. Or mine.”

Crunch. Another ankle shatters. Another shriek claws the air. Astarion strolls, leisurely, to Enrik's hands next. He grounds his heel into the pop of fingers breaking beneath his boots. Their hostage heaves a broken sob.

“Sh, sh, sh, oh, it’s all right,” Astarion croons. “I happen to have just the knife for you.”

Astarion crosses back to his coat piled near the window and draws a dagger from its folds. Rhapsody. Cazador’s blade. Naomi hasn’t seen it since they claimed the Crimson Palace for themselves.

Brightness glints off the twined edge, a match for the harsh and singular focus gleaming in Astarion’s gaze.

So that’s what Astarion was smiling about, as he basked by the window. What had him so peacefully quiet and content. Murder was on his mind, even then.

Not the only thing on my mind, little love. She feels the slant of his smirk in her head, as if it ghosted past the hinge of her jaw. There’s no trace of it on Astarion’s stony exterior.

He plucks the crystal wine glass from the sill while he’s there, rotating the stem as he saunters back over. Blood flecks the fine leather of Astarion’s shoes. He plants them on either side of Enrik’s torso. He seizes Enrik’s collar, yanking harshly until he’s kneeling, too.

“Fuck you,” Enrik spits. “Fuck you both! My master will--”

“Darling,” Astarion trills, grip unwavering, “Would you..?”

Magic swirls sticky across Naomi’s tongue. “Ad Lapidē.”

Violet runes blaze to life beneath their captive’s knees, capturing him in perfect stillness. His mouth hangs agape with unspent vitriol. Astarion’s hands recoil, twisting the dagger in one, and the glass in the other.

“Your master,” Astarion sneers with a dark laugh. “Too much of a coward to show his face, so he sends you. His sacrificial lamb, sent to speak to me about sharing my dearest treasure, like he isn’t the scum beneath her shoes. He had to know I wouldn’t hear of it. But he didn’t care enough about you to even taint your blood. That’s right. My lesser spawn sampled you just like they would any cattle. But my beautiful bride hasn’t had one bite, not yet. Not until I was sure you were sweet enough for her palate.”

Astarion strokes Rhapsody down the man’s outstretched neck. The barest streak of blood leaks from the scrape. Astarion’s eyes skate over the ash piles around the room, wistful.

“All it took was a sleeping potion,” he muses. “Just a few drops. Now all of the spawnlings sent by all of my lessers are dust. You’ll wish to join them, before this is done. And you will. When I decide we’re done.”

Naomi’s eyes fasten to the blood beading down Enrik’s pallid throat. Astarion digs in ever-so-gently with Rhapsody’s tip, just enough to start a stream running. He presses the cup beneath it. Slowly, the crystal fills red to the brim. Her mouth waters.

Astarion looks up abruptly, eyes wide and soft as his malice dissolves to fondness. “Darling, you do look famished. Open up for me, dear.”

Naomi’s chin lifts, lips parted. Astarion tilts the glass to meet her with the utmost care.

“I won’t have your grime and sweat on her lips,” Astarion hisses in Enrik’s ear. “Only your blood. You don’t deserve that…” He sucks a sharp breath in. Naomi watches with rapt attention as it stutters through his chest. “...pretty little mouth.”

Blood, rich and smooth as cream, slips across her tongue. Her eyes slip shut with it. With each swallow, syrupy warmth spreads slowly through her chest, down her legs, through arms, to her every inch. Too soon, it’s taken from her. Naomi’s eyes flutter open. She’s taken all of it, already.

“More, my love?” Astarion hums happily. “You only have to ask.”

“More,” she says at once, lips still wet.

Astarion carves. The insolent apprentice bleeds without a sound. Again and again, the cup fills. He tips it to her lips, and Naomi drinks until her eyelids grow heavy.

Her body thrums like it remembers the pulse that used to play through her veins. She’s warmer than a dead woman should be. Even the air itself feels like the kiss of steam tingling against her skin.

It’s then that Naomi feels Astarion’s lips in her head again, sucking little marks down her throat that match the rosy flush heating her cheeks. She pants out of habit, out of instinct, and not of need. Out of want for him to watch what he does to her. As if he doesn’t already know.

One twist of Astarion’s wrist turns the little leak of blood from Enrik’s throat into a fountain. Naomi’s spell dissipates in violet sparks. His body slumps over, lifeless. Blood runs from him in little rivers, rushing to fill the grout lines between the tiles.

Astarion cradles one last glassful in a delicate grip. His face clears of any clouded rage as he gives the glass an experimental swirl. Wordlessly, he tilts the cup to her mouth once more.

Naomi gasps. Wetness paints her chin. It streams down her neck, drips down her sternum and between her breasts, still bound in lace. Astarion drips with it, down to his knees in fluid motion. Somewhere behind him, the wine glass shatters. In her periphery, she sees the shards glitter like frost.

“Oops,” he says, low and shameless.

Barely any blood made it to Naomi’s mouth this time, but she doesn’t mind one bit. Astarion crawls to her, catlike. She’s only spared a moment to admire the lithe muscle flexing through his naked chest before he leans into the hollow of her throat. Silver curls brush soft beneath her chin. And then, she feels the tip of that devilish tongue take a tentative lick of the mess he’s made.

And gods, what a mess she must be. Blood smears from her neck to her navel, near-black on her blue-gray skin. Dark like Astarion’s eyes, with pupils blown wide and hungry. A flare of heat twists low in Naomi’s stomach. Her thighs shift, wet with it.

Thread rips in her ears. Rhapsody drags delicately down her side, scratching faint like a quill. The lace of her gown splits without resistance. There's none to be had against that mouth of his, just as busy as his nimble hands.

Astarion laps, dainty, down the path of her swallow. His coy smile curves with a petal-soft laugh against her collar bone. Naomi laughs, too, breathless as his tongue chases lazily after the spill. Breathless as the day he took the last breath she needed.

Ever since, Astarion’s given her everything she could want, without leaving her wanting for more than a moment. Now, her knees will never grow numb, no matter how long they bend against the marble. The chill of it can’t phase her, either. Even if it could, Astarion’s drawn the curtains wide. When she kneels for him, it’s only ever on sun-soaked stone.

Astarion treasures her. Cherishes her. Lavishes her with love and pleasure and wealth and power. Preserves her like prized silver, polished with such devotion so she’ll never know the tarnish of time. She’s his spawn. His wife.

But above all else, she’s his pride. The very thing that rules him. The only thing that still does.

Naomi wants to be in ruins with him. To be the last pillars of a broken world already so far beyond repair before they were dragged through it. Aeterna amantes. Until the fall of everything.

Until then, this, the low groan he gives her while her fingers stroke red through the plush white of his hair, the heady hum in her blood, the bloom of someone else’s waking color in her cheeks, the way Astarion looks at her like there’s nothing else at all, the way he tears into a dress he paid a fortune for, the hand he knots through her braids to wreck them -- this is everything.

Astarion tosses Rhapsody over his shoulder to join the broken wine glass, just like any other worthless trinket. His deft hands curl into the tears in her bodice and tug. At once, it gives way to his grip. She would, too, were it not so binding. Naomi grounds out a gasp. Her skirt pools at her knees, leaving her bare but for the warmth of Astarion’s roaming hands and the daylight pouring over them both.

“Do you know why I wanted you down here, pet?” He asks softly.

Astarion’s eyes latch to hers while his teeth toy at the curve of her breast. His tongue slicks over to soothe where his fangs grazed her, and then it melts against a pert nipple, taking it in with a lewd suck.

Naomi paws for a coherent thought, but all she finds is a pleading hum. He nips her again, just enough to see her tit tremble from the pull when he draws away. He leaves her nipple glistening and the underside of her breast peppered in pink before moving on to the other.

“To torture me, clearly,” Naomi pants. Her hands still tangle in his hair. Amusement glimmers in his gaze as he plants a chaste kiss to the inside of one of her wrists and sets them both back at her sides.

“Oh no, my sweet. I would never,” he says, chin resting flat against her navel. He looks up at her with wide, doey eyes, full of faux innocence.

He slinks lower, laying a line with his tongue that ends in a kiss just above where her skirts still shield her. He shifts them aside, ripping where he needs, until it’s only one little piece of black lace covering her cunt. Astarion growls against it, nosing at its edges, his back bowed, stomach brushing the floor. His teeth find the waistband and tear that, too.

Hot breath fans across the other mess he made. Naomi wavers on her knees. From that minute motion alone, she can hear how he’s soaked her.

But Astarion doesn’t disprove her theory; he leans back abruptly, straightening up to his knees again. An arm loops slack around her waist as he circles around to her bare back. Naomi’s lips twitch. If this is the game he wants, it’s too soon to beg. The thought inspires another needy flex through her cunt. His other hand slides to cup the heat of it, and Naomi whines. Reflexively, her back arches. Astarion pulls her still.

He catches the side of her jaw, angling her back into a biting kiss. It’s over before she wants it to be, his lips red and glistening with what he stole from her. Without him, her mouth burns from the cut.

“I wanted to see you right where you belong,” he whispers, the sound as sheer as the lace he wrecked. “So beautiful on your throne.”

For a brief moment, he draws away entirely, leaving her with nothing but a lonely chill. And then, his back comes flush to the floor beneath her. His body splays behind her. The heat of his mouth crests against the heat of her cunt, his face fitted between her thighs, his lips hovering so close, but not close enough. His breath alone snags the one halfway through her throat.

“Oh,” her realization comes out quivering.

The tip of his nose nudges, just barely, against her clit, spurring her hips to roll. But all she gets from that mouth is mischief and a quiet snicker. He shifts his cheek, laving a long stroke of his tongue to the tender crux of her inner thigh before sealing it over with a tight suck. When he bites down, he draws out her blood with a rough moan.

Astarion pulls back, his smirk glazed in her, his eyes aflame. “Oh, darling, I’ve barely even touched you yet. And you’re so very wet for me.”

“Touch me, then,” she hisses between her teeth, raking her hands through his perfect curls and fisting them there.

His eyes spear into hers, hard like the way he clenches her ass and pulls her hips down. Even as it sets her on fire, his mouth gives her mercy. Astarion’s tongue melts hot across her cunt, swiping slow and dexterous. Not for the first time, Naomi thinks she might like to die like this.

It’s not so different from how she died. It started on her knees, this new life of passion and pleasure unbridled. Even then, Astarion already knew the shape of her body like he knew his own hands. Every curve, every intimate bend, how to make her speak in noise instead of words. The hidden language behind every whimper she makes, every shiver.

So he knows exactly what he’s doing while his tongue teases gentle circles around her clit. He knows, by the time his timid little laps blend into a needy suck, that she’s so, so sensitive. Astarion’s hungry groan seeps into her slickness. She feels him like a current and clenches again, just as hungry.

Every feeling he gives her gives him an echo back just as strong. Every thought in her head is in his head, too. He eats her cunt and feels fed by her pleasure curling in the tips of his toes. He didn’t know he’d be hers, just as much as she’d be his, when he bit her thrice, bled her dry, and gave her just one drop of blood back.

But Astarion knew her body before she was his bride. Now, he knows her mind. A part of him lives there, as she does in his. As he drags his pale, elegant fingers between her folds, he drags her head through a dozen depravities. Filling her with nothing but thoughts of how he’ll fill her properly.

He could have her against the arched windows lining the east wall, body pressed so pretty to the glass so he can see the imprint of it even after she peels away. She could feel the heat brimming off the sun outside, washing over their empire. He could taste her sunbathed shoulder while he fucks her senseless. His little love, dipped in honey. So what if someone else sees. Later, he’ll see to them not seeing anything ever again.

He could take her here, on the ballroom floor. Pull her down just as she surfaces from the pleasure he’s paid her, and roll her beneath him to bury her in it all over again. Make love on the marble streaked with the blood of their enemies, where hundreds of dignitaries have danced and dined on countless evenings before. But none of them were ever blessed with such a fine feast as he. The stone would be hard and unyielding against her back, and he would be just the same, driving into her, relentless. At least it’s far prettier than the dirt they used to fuck in.

Or--

A new picture snaps from Naomi’s mind to his, with the dip of his tongue to her entrance, a staggering spike of pleasure, and an unbidden whimper.

The piano. Pearly white with jet black keys, so pristine, so gorgeous with blood spilt red down the sides. Naomi poured over the side, ivory hair tinged with crimson, cascading over her bare, bent back. Astarion’s fingers buried in her hips, planting the promise of bruises, his body bucking wildly into her as he finally--

Naomi’s moan hits the high pitch of the ceiling. She grinds, needy, against the pair of fingers he crooks inside of her. His thumb spreads her slickness back and presses to the pucker of her ass.

So eager for me to fill you up. His voice in her head is a caress. Her hips roll with the sound. His thumb dips inside her ass with the motion, and Naomi gasps as she eases into that delicious stretch.

But darling, I haven’t fed all night, Astarion pouts, mouth moving with agonizing slowness as his eyes flutter shut beneath long black lashes. Naomi’s eyelids grow heavy, too, as she’s lost to that lovely, slick click of his lips. A meal like you is meant to be savored.

He fucks her holes leisurely, with the air of someone who knows he’ll be back for more before long. It brings to mind those long, lithe fingers, folded between the pages of a book to mark his place. All it takes is an effortless flex of them to keep her coaxed open like this. Her body draws taut as he leans her over the precipice of her own pleasure.

If you need more, my dear, by all means. Take it.

He growls into their bond like he’s the one devoured. Like he can plead ignorance to how he’s taking her apart with his hands, his mouth. Naomi catches a whine between her teeth. Astarion’s free hand cups her ass, urging her into the thrust her body bends towards. She parts a hand from his hair to brace flat to the floor beside his face, the other knotting anew in his silver curls.

Desperately, she rides against the flat of his tongue, against that long, refined nose, fucking herself back into the curve of his fingers. Every pull of them pulls her under, deeper into her own ecstasy. Her body grips him back like she means to drown him, too. The tip of his tongue flicks her clit in relentless rhythm, starting off a shudder she can’t stop.

“Don’t stop,” she begs within and without, the jerk of her hips growing frantic.

His mouth is mercy. When she comes for him, she’s wreathed in heat, slick with sweat, every nerve in her body alight with the most blissful burn. A strangled cry breaks in her chest. It buries the song now trembling from the piano. Naomi shivers out a sigh, and the keys shiver with her.

Astarion wraps his arms tight to her thighs, anchoring her through the aftershocks. When she stills again, her body throbs with a heady rush of blood, pleasure, want. Every part of her is limp with it, save the pulsing, rigid press in her mind and in his trousers. She’s putty in his hands even as his fingers leave her. Naomi twitches back towards the touch he takes away, body aching with his absence.

Naomi’s knuckles unfurl, stroking soft through the tangles she wrought. What a sight he is, his hair in utter disarray, his mouth a mess of blood and lust and her. An ease settles into his graceful features, not so different from that quiet contentment he wore while leaning into the light by the window. His eyes simmer with it, lips drawn in a soft smile.

Without warning, his grip tightens. Naomi stifles a huff of surprise as she’s taken down, marble kissing smooth to her spine. A pale hand cradles her head, cushioning her fall. In a blink, he’s hovering over her bare body and dipping down to catch her in a fever of a kiss. It’s a needy, sweltering latch of lips, tangy with her own sweetness as much as his.

“Here?” She purrs to the seal of his mouth.

She lets him feel the way the word alone makes her body tense. Waiting. Wanting. Their bond curls with it, crooked and beckoning in his head. The way his fingers bent a few moments before, buried in the heat of her.

A long breath passes out through his nose, his eyes sliding half shut. A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth. But his cheek turns by just the barest hair, and Naomi’s attention follows after his.

Music flutters, breathy, off the black and white keys. The piano stays a pretty picture of perfection, among the deaths little and large they’ve littered throughout the ballroom.

His teeth trace the angled edge of her ear. Naomi keens with the sting of it as she’s swept from the floor.

“There.”

She’s caught in his kiss again as he carries her. One swipe of his tongue to where he bit her lip before has her quivering. Has her a world away from the one still around them. Vaguely, she’s aware he’s somehow rid her of her gloves and shoes. She hears a dull, wooden clatter, and then a resounding thud. The piano plays on, but it's muted.

Astarion doesn’t bend her over the way she mused. Instead, he seats her on the polished wood of the piano’s closed lid. His hands leave her back to push her knees apart, scoop beneath them, and pull her spread legs to the strain trapped in his trousers.

Naomi grins, her fangs snagging his lower lip as he tries to part from her. Astarion’s answering groan is rough like a scrape of sandpaper. It leaves her mouth raw, tingling, alive with a pulse that plays to the tune of his pleasure. She wants more of that noise. More of the happy purr it pours into her head from his. One drink of that sloppy, slap happy look on his face sates her more than blood ever could.

You’ve given me everything, he told her, once. But now, all she can think is more. Take more. Take everything.

Astarion grinds his hard length against her in answer. The sweet friction makes sweeter music in their mouths as Naomi moans with the motion, too. Still, there’s far too much fabric for her liking.

Astarion’s fingers make fast work of it. He unlaces his pants only enough to free his cock, parts from her only enough to push her back and clamber up after her. Then, he’s on her again like a second skin. Her cunt throbs with the press of his cock, the tip of it wet and seeping against her thigh. She tries to fit a hand between them, to wrap her palm around his girth and feel with her hands, not just her head, how badly he has to have her. Astarion doesn’t leave her space for it.

It’s not his hands that put her flat on her back, against the body of the piano. It’s the sudden swell of his adoration ballooning from his brain to hers. The weight of his affection pins her there beneath him, utterly paralyzed, as the music flows on under both of them. He’s brimming with it, and it washes over her in a wave, a cup overflowing.

His curls hang down in his eyes, wild with the look of a man starved. “You’re going to scream for me, little love,” he says with the slightest slur. The thought smears from him to her, burning in the back of her mind like a pull of liquor. He brushes her snarled hair back until it tumbles over the piano’s edge, white over white. “I’m going to make you. And I want to see that beautiful face when I do.”

“Please,” she starts to say.

But barely any of it makes it past her lips. Astarion never leaves her wanting for more than a moment.

“O-Oh,” she stammers instead, as her soaked cunt splays to his cock sliding home. Astarion pushes out a moan as he pushes into her. He hooks her legs with his arms, folding them up and back.

“That’s my girl,” he pants, forehead heavy against her own. His thumb circles her cheek, a feather-light counterweight to the thickness he seats inside her. He watches her intently, fixated. Hypnotized. “My good, good girl.”

Kisses and praise tumble from between his teeth, down her cheek, to her throat. Naomi’s head rolls back while she relishes the wet, smacking mantra that’s the mess of them. He’s not tender with his tempo. He doesn’t have to be. You could ruin me. I’d let you ruin me, she thinks again.

And how beautiful he is, in ruins with her. No more composure. No more restraint. Sweat streaks his brow as it bends beneath his focus. All there is is the blend of them, the slow rock of the piano underneath them, and the scattered, stranded pieces of a melody left in their wake.

It could break. The thought cracks through her, through them, with the wooden whine of the piano legs taking the shift of their weight. Astarion crushes her worry beneath the thrust of his hips, any notion of it lost to the head of his cock pressing just where it needs to make her see stars.

Naomi bites down on her own lip, grounding herself in fleeting pain and the tang of blood. He’s not even touching her clit; he doesn’t have to. He floods her with how it felt when he did, when his tongue rolled against the swell of it, just the tip of it teasing that sensitive little bud. How she felt to him, so silky and slick in his mouth. How amazing it feels to finally fuck her, to take what’s his and have her take him so, so tightly.

He could ruin her. Snap her like the creaking legs of this instrument, not long for this world. It would be almost as effortless as the way she spreads for him. But instead, Astarion fills her. Every shift prods the crown of his cock against the sweetest spot inside her cunt.

Naomi’s fingers claw into Astarion’s back as he bucks wildly. Tears sear in her eyes. The tell-tale pressure in her pelvis builds near-blinding.

“Scream for me, darling,” he growls against her neck, out loud this time.

Her cunt throbs with his command. But she doesn’t heed it. Astarion lets out a low, steaming hiss.

“I said scream, dear,” Astarion says, his velvet voice edged in warning. The sparks of his indignation spit flinty in her head alongside a flicker of excitement at her defiance.

He wants to feel the rush of her own power with the spasm of her cunt as she comes undone. He wants her magic to spill into him as he spills his seed inside of her. Wants to taste it with the rest of her. If Naomi was nothing to him, she’d still be the siren; it’s not a power Astarion gifted to her. It was hers without him. It is her. And she’s his.

“I might break the glass,” she whispers, wary of anything louder.

“Oh, my love,” Astarion says tenderly, a husk in his throat as his hand wraps loose around her neck. “You can break everything.”

Astarion kills her hesitation. She’s never felt more whole. She feels holy, feeling her own perfect squeeze around his cock, feeling herself fucked in his body and her own. Feeling what she does to the man who already has everything, but will never have enough of her.

When Naomi screams Astarion's name, it’s everything else in the room that shatters.

Glass crashes from the windows. They burst one after another in quick-fire succession. Astarion buckles against her body with the sudden, decisive snap beneath them. His hips jerk, rutting erratically. Warmth spurts into her with every shudder down his spine, every pulse of his cock.

He cuts her cry with his teeth buried in the crook of her neck. Naomi clings to him as her cunt convulses. It’s the bite that takes her apart, knowing he tastes his own name in her throat and thinks--

Mine, mine, mine.

Naomi’s head drops limp. Astarion’s grip on her neck gives way to soft circles stroked against her cheek again. Mine, she thinks, as his ruby eyes watch her keenly, awash in the soft glow only she knows.

Even after Astarion stills, the room spins dizzy from her upside-down view. She blinks it all back into place, but some pieces won’t fit together again so easily. They’re far closer to the floor than when he slipped inside of her. The piano legs splay at odd, splintered angles. The floor glitters with glass like crystalline teeth, ready to bite the heels of any who dare tread their hall.

Astarion slides out, and she shivers with the fade of his warmth. He sits up, his gaze sweeping the shattered windows, his smirk smug and wet with her. “Perhaps all of the Gate heard you. The gardener did for certain.”

Naomi sits up, too, leaning forward and letting his shoulder take her weight. Her forehead comes to rest against his collarbone. She finds an easy smile while relishing the way his heart still hammers his chest. She did that, in multiple senses. Absently, he tucks the hair sticking to her cheeks back behind her ears.

“I guess I’ll have to kill her,” he adds, chipper. “I suppose, for now, we can spare all the others.”

“She’s already dead enough, dear,” Naomi sighs.

A tiny, discordant note of sadness plucks in her chest, among the pleasant haze settling over her. Astarion stiffens against it, as if she reached out and pinched him. She doubts he’d be so eager to slay one of his spawn for the same crime of hearing her come for him.

The gardener is hers, of a sort. Not a vampire -- Naomi can’t make those. Before Naomi sang her awake again, the gardener was just a sad stack of bones collecting dust in a closet. Now, she rattles along to Naomi’s tune, keeping the flowers trimmed to her liking.

“I suppose you’re right,” Astarion murmurs. His expression softens with fondness, the sort that’s rare to surface unless they’re alone, but never fails to make her chest light and fluttery. “Are you tired now, pet?”

“We stayed up all night,” Naomi laughs faintly.

“Hm,” he nods with a pitying frown. “Let me see to you, my treasure. Don’t you move.” His lips curve, coy, as his eyes flicker back to the wrecked windows. “I wouldn’t want you to strain yourself.”

He saunters back to where his coat lays, now tattered. He returns to settle it around her shoulders, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead.

“You’re such a staunch defender of my honor,” Naomi says dryly, even as the leftovers of their lovemaking start to seep down her thigh.

“Ha,” Astarion shakes with a rolling laugh. “I rather think I’m the thief of it. You were quite the heist. It wouldn’t do to have some debaucherous upstart happen by and think they can make off with what’s mine.”

“I wouldn’t let them live through it.”

“Aw,” he clicks his tongue, “you’re such a romantic.”

Astarion leaves her with her legs strewn over the broken piano, relacing his trousers as he goes. Glass crunches beneath his heels. He stops to ring the bell near the door. A few seconds later, it creaks open a hair. She catches his curt commands to the servant she can’t see on the other side.

“...yes, here, in the ballroom. My consort and I wish to take in the view, and see none of you.”

His lesser spawn are quick to make good on their orders. The door swings open once more a short time later, and in floats a claw-foot tub without another soul to be seen. Magic clings, cloudy, beneath the porcelain belly of it. A pleasant, floral scent curls with the steam from the water within. The tub drifts to the heart of the ballroom and settles with a soft thud before the yawning window panes.

Astarion returns to her as her toes touch the ground again. He frowns tightly, eyes narrowing.

“There’s debris scattered everywhere, my sweet,” he says, saccharine even in reproach. “I wouldn’t want to see you hurt.”

Naomi sniffs a laugh, picking her path carefully. “If I can’t handle a little sharpness here and there, it’s a wonder how I’ve managed to handle you.”

“Oh, it’s simple,” Astarion says, catching her wrist with an effortless flourish. “We were made for each other. By each other, really.”

And Astarion’s made up his stubborn mind that she’s not to take another step, it seems. With a soft huff, he sweeps her off her feet all over again, strides to the tub with her legs dangling over his arm, and delicately deposits her there.

Water laps at the tub’s edges, splashing as she situates herself. She shrugs from Astarion’s coat, shucking it away to join all the other debris they don’t have use for. Heat tingles across her skin, like little, loving nips of Astarion’s teeth. Naomi eases back into the burn of it as the sting settles sweetly.

Astarion rids himself of his shoes and trousers. He dips a foot into the tub, bidding her to make way for him with a gentle nudge. The water ripples as he settles in behind her. With a satisfied sigh, she sinks back against his chest and deeper into the furling warmth.

The ballroom overlooks the well-kept gardens behind the estate. The hedges are high enough, only a spyglass might have hope of spotting them both bare. Under Cazador’s reign, the garden was little more than a sprawl of weeds and webbed ivy. Now, fountains babble between the blooms of pink and blue and violet. If she strains, she can catch the weave of music in the trickling flow, like tinkling wind chimes.

A soft breeze tickles her ears, sending gritty glass and ash scattering over their floor. Astarion clenches a soft sponge in his grip, wrings it out, and starts to scrub her skin in slow, deliberate strokes. Naomi’s head tilts back beneath his tender care, every rub taking the tension from shoulders.

She turns after a time, and he starts to wash blood from her front, while she wets her hands and works the redness from the white of his hair. Her fingers linger along the slants of his ears, rubbing delicately, until she catches that satisfied hum in his throat that leaves her lifted, floating on the buoy of his happiness.

The water never cools or clouds; magic still swirls in the steam, even long after they’re free of blood and grime. Astarion rakes hand through her hair, his fingernails digging pleasantly against her scalp.

“You are divine as ever,” he rumbles. “Rest now, pet.”

And she does, slipping soundly into a trance, soaked in sunlight and lavender oil with her lover wrapped around her. Only Astarion sends her to the sort of rest that reaches her soul. His presence is sanctuary.

It’s his disquiet that wakes her suddenly. He still strokes her hair just as gently, but he levels a hard-cut stare out over the garden, his lips set with the same stoniness.

“No one will ever take you from me,” he murmurs, as if to himself.

“As if they ever could,” Naomi whispers back, reaching up to graze the edge of his jaw.

Heavens help the fool who tries. Any who dare to hatch such plots, to harbor such ill will in their Crimson Palace, will find themselves laid to rest with all the others. Their enemies’ gravestones are just bricks in their empire, every one of them laid with blood in the mortar.

Astarion dips his head down, the hint of a smile curling at the corner of his mouth. “I suppose it might be fun to see them try. In the meantime, my love, I’m of a mind to keep you spread for me for the next tenday.”

Naomi laughs. The sound echoes around the otherwise vacant room.

Astarion’s grin only grows, the tips of his fangs sharpening his smile. “Did I say something funny, dear?”

His lips crush down against hers in a kiss consuming.

#ascended astarion #astarion #astarion ancunin #tav x astarion #astarion x tav #tavstarion #vampire ascendant #vampire lord astarion #bg3 #astarion smut #astarion fanfic #bg3 fanfic #my writing #naomi tavriel

[velvet-paradox]

Observant

Fandom: Call of Duty Pairing: König x Female reader Summary: You're out on the town with your friends but it's your guys' job to make sure you're safe. Length: Medium Warnings: NSFW 18 + ONLY, strong language, explicit content, jealous!König, big guy is a little creep, drinking, established relationship, unprotected p in v, voyeurism, sex in a bathroom, dirty talking, creampie, detailed smut.

Tagging: @synnersaintaint @shyjellyfish26 @kosmokenny @butterscotch-babie @cesneo @deaddainish @allkot @jacket-slut99 @hers-area @1-fuzzy-squirrels @hailmesuckers @ella-bella-ella @spookylilbay @t6ylors @salamanderstuff @hh-spnxx @akii1833 @malyshka-3 @etoilebleue @gremlingottoosilly @talktothemoon2 (I couldn't tag everyone for whatever reason)

p.s. this isn't inspired by The Virus of Life by Slipknot but it fits the mood I'm going for so if you wanna' read this while listening to or listen to it general bc it's a perfect song, go right ahead!

ENJOY!!!

He can't help it. Not really. He told you to go (even helped you zip up that pretty black dress, bending down on his knees as he clasped your heels too), told you to have fun, call if you needed him, text him to pick you up, go through the drive-thru and get your favorite go-to hangover meal. He knew you would be drinking and dancing with your friends. The thought of what other people, men in particular would be looking at once you left the house made him hot. Made him possessive. But, as smooth as glass on silk König looped his hood over your head at the door, kissing you hard before waving you off, giving your ass a firm squeeze.

König saw fucking crimson as soon as the car full of giddy women pulled away from the curb.

He caught the kiss you blew him before he slammed the door shut and stomped through the house, taking the stairs two at a time, he threw off the hood and sat down at his computer. He turned on his work tablet that he just so conveniently take home with him. He knew what he was doing.

He wiped a hand down his face, green eyes glowing from his computer screens. He used them for gaming, for work emails and new weapons he'd long for. You had your own laptop so using his wasn't really on your radar. So as König typed in coordinates and accessed street cameras and the like, he thought how silly of you.

You had no reason to questions his methods, he was yours, his main priority is to keep you safe and happy and healthy. By any means necessary. And much like his job in the military; he took his job very, very seriously.

While his tablet tracked your location that he'd check every so often, he found your girlfriends' car on the highway, a grin on his face.

Gotcha' sweetheart.

His eyes flitted back and forth as he monitored the cameras.

While König was jealous of the looks you'd be getting, breaking necks and hearts with the way you swayed your hips, helping one of your friends out the of the car at the curb. It was a swanky sort of club at least, he thought. Everyone that he saw and silently judged as a potential threat, it made him warm and it also made him rock fucking hard.

Without knowing or giving it much thought at all, you looked up at a random camera at the stoplight.

Fucks sake… if you only knew what he'd do to keep you safe.

….

It was quite concerning to him how easily he was able to hack into the clubs' security system. They certainly needed better IT in this joint, he chuckled darkly as he maneuvered through the camera's, squinting in the dark and flashing lights. It was packed. He had trouble finding you at first, too many dresses, too many pretty women.

He bit his thumb when he found you.

For the most part you danced with your friends at back booth, he watched you down a few shots already, grooving to the beat of unheard music as you sipped on another drink. Even though it was dark and murky in the club, he mused it was most likely a Bee's Knee's. You love those.

König soon took notice of a man in a very expensive looking suit pass by your table, that's three times in the last fifteen minutes and it wasn't for the bathroom as he'd already scoped that out. König leaned forward, creaking his chair to get a better view.

You had your back toward him, laughing with two of your friends who could still stand, the other two were already sitting down nursing a few cold glasses of water.

If you pass by one more fucking time you dummkopf…

That's it. König grabbed his mask, fought with his boots downstairs and almost forgot the keys to the truck. Grumbling to himself that he should've just gone with you, stayed in the background, blended in to the noise.

He parked the truck violently, coming to a screech in the alley. As luck would have it, an employee of the club was busy taking out some trash and clinking empty bottles of booze, propping up the door just enough for the larger man to slip through unannounced. The music was loud in his ears, heart pumping with the steady rhythm of the bass. The lighting in here was on purposely poor, made for better make out corners and hook-ups he'd concludes as he shifted along the back wall.

Eyes scanning, heart pounding, the threat of you not being here made him move quicker. That little creep better stay away from you, if he know what's good for him, König thought as he made his way around the club. He saw your seated friends then, eyes frantic to find you.

Where are you? Where are you?

Just then he caught something shining in the dim lighting, something bright.

König relaxed a bit more when he saw it was you, holding up your left hand, showing off the wedding ring on your finger to fuck-face. With a huff he shifted his weight, towering over everyone around him, as usual, and made a beeline for your frame.

"Where is he then?"

"Trust me; he's just a phone call away."

"Shame… a real pity he let you out of his sight tonight."

"Is that so?"

"She is never out of my sight."

The poor man must've gave you some pretty wide eyes while you instead smiled, popping your hip and looking up at him. The guy turned and by the look on his face, was not at all prepared to see just who put that little ring on your finger. König grinned and tilted his head, crossing his arms he bent over.

"Boo."

The man let out shriek and took his nosy ass and what was left of his drink and melted back into the dancing crowd.

"I had it handled you know?" You said, sipping down the rest of your own drink.

"I saw that," König countered, sauntering forward to close the not so wide gap. From his height of course, he could see your cleavage perfectly and he just couldn't help himself but sigh quietly. "I'll admit it has been awhile since I've intimated someone. Felt good."

"I bet. Do you want to intimidate me?" You asked, batting your lashes ever so cutely.

Now that was certainly an idea he just might have to entertain.

….

Waving 'hi, hello, good to see you, goodbye' all at once to your friends was a blur, hefting you over his broad shoulder, carrying you away towards the restrooms. Lucky for you both, other than the gendered bathrooms there was a Family Room option, which meant private. Just what he wanted.

He set you down on your heels, clicking loudly on the tile floor as you tugged down the hem of your dress. Until he stopped you. He took your purse and strung it up on the hook, whirling on you he grabbed at the silky material, shifting it up your legs, bunching it at your waist. He clicked his tongue at you.

"And just where or where did your little panties go, hmm?"

"I didn't wear any." You coyishly toyed with the bottom of his mask.

"Is that so?"

"Mhmm."

"Now that's just bad girl behavior." König pressed, leaning on his arm above your head, smiling to himself that he could see your breath hitch in your throat, your chest rising and falling much quicker now. "I should do something about that."

"Yes you should."

You moaned when his free hand found a welcome home between your thighs.

"My my, what have we here? A needy little slit, already wet for me." König sighed, gathering more and more of your slick along his fingers before breaching your tight hole. Your lashes fluttered so sweetly. "I shouldn't even be doing this. You're drunk."

You huffed when he began to retract out of your wetness. "No no no I'm not drunk, honey. I swear. I'm just buzzed, I can still--"

"Ah ah. Don't lie to me, pretty girl. I know you had two Bee's Knee's and a few shots so far."

Your face screwed up when you looked at him. "How do you know that?"

König just chuckled and pulled his finger out, leaving you whining and stunned with his answer.

Low and slow König tapped your nose. "Like I told that dummkopf; you are always in my sight."

He didn't give you even a millisecond before he hunched over, dragging his mask down his face, locking eyes as you bit your lip at the bare sight of him.

….

König made you face the bathroom mirror, told you to hold onto the cool porcelain, bend over, stick that cute ass or yours out. The groan that filled the room vibrated off the walls.

He hunched over your back, "I'm gonna' love you now. Hold on fucking tight."

The crown of his cock split you open, little by little your pussy bloomed open and wet for him as you arched, your back cracked as your shoulder blades threatened to touch.

"Fuck!" You hung your head and rocked on your heels as you adjusted, further and further he pushed himself into you.

He licked his lips at the noises coming from your mouth as he started fucking you, humping you as he wound an arm around your middle, gripping your soft dress. His fingers digging into your skin.

After a particularly hard thrust, you snapped your head up, locking eyes with him in the mirror. You keened and gripped the sink like it had the potential to save you from your husbands' onslaught.

"Fuck you pretty pretty thing, you feel even better than you did this morning," König grunted, slamming into you hard, practically jostling you like a rag doll on his cock. He stilled and panted into the back of your head. "You look so fucking good, so fucking filthy like this, my dear. Look at yourself," with that he grabbed a handful of your hair, jerking you up, blinking at your fucked out expression, mouth agape and glistening. "Awww look at that pretty little face."

He felt you clench around him, pleased he wrenched free his cock, spitting on it as you whined and pushed back against him. "Needy are we, dear?"

"Yes. Oh God yes, I'm so desperate. So so desperate for you." Your ring clinked against the sink when you moved, looking at him over your shoulder, mouth open and waiting for a kiss.

You nipped his tongue after he fucked it into your mouth, giving your ear an experimental bite as he moaned and breathed in your ear.

"Fuck you are so fucking pretty, my pretty little wife," König slapped his wet cock against one of your ass cheeks, it sounded so loud and so filthy. So damn good. "Oh you poor thing. You need it so badly don't you? Need your husbands' cock right back in that wet little cunt of yours. Fucking you out, stretching you out, fuck yes."

"Always." You whined and met him thrust for thrust, settling into a steady pace as he placed kiss after kiss to your neck, your shoulder, biting the strap of your dress as he cupped one of your breasts.

"Yeah you do. Look at you, just ready to be used like the little toy that you are, right? Leaving the house without panties... slut behavior, easier access for me in the end though."

König seemed to be talking to himself as you had become just a puddle, his personal fleshlight as he eased his way back into you.

Your cunt greedily sucked him back in, thrust after thrust as he groaned and grunted, half English tangled with his native tongue. He growled the second you pushed back against him, taking him harder, bowing and whining as if you two were in the sanctuary of your bedroom and not in a public bathroom.

A shower was going to be an absolute must.

Suddenly he lifted one of your legs, gathering you close to his chest, changing the angle to a decadent surprise. Both of your eyes locked on the sight of his cock stretching you out in the mirror.

"Oh my God." You whimpered, eyes watery and focused on how huge he looked. Your gummy walls fluttered around him making him sweat.

"I'm afraid there is no God here, mein engel," he clicked his teeth, shaking his head with a sinister grin, licking the shell of your ear he half whispered. "There is only me. Just you and me. Just your king."

You moaned behind your clenched teeth as you came, legs on the verge of giving out, trembling in his hold. König enjoyed the flood of your arousal encapsulating him, throbbing hot.

"Awww my dear, you couldn't hold it any longer. You poor dear thing, just empty and ready for me to fill you back up, hmmm?" König mused, chuckling darkly before pulling out once more, shoving you up against the wall, your hands slapping against the painted brick, turning your head against it.

You bit your lip at the sight of yourselves in the mirror, arching and wiggling your ass towards him. The jangling of his belt when you fucked you again had left you dizzy, you voiced it, screwing your eyes shut. König got a thrill out of that. Telling you what a good little wife you were, how deep you were taking him, how badly he wanted to fuck you all over again once you made it home.

"That's it baby, good fucking girl. Look at that pretty little girl in the mirror getting whatever she wants." He even went a little far as to little slap your face, holding your chin as his thighs slapped against your ass. "Good job. Take it baby, you're gonna' take it. Oh fuck. You want to feel me cum inside you? Yeah you do, yeah you fucking do."

You sobbed as he came, shooting a few healthy ropes of cum into you. He ground himself against you, pushing his semen even deeper into your pliant body. Your breathing was erratic at best, licking the drool from your lips.

König slowly pulled out, a thick glob dribbled out of your hole, dripping down your inner thigh. He had half a mind to scoop it back up and push it back inside your sensitive cunt, those intrusive thoughts to have you completely full of him, drove him wild. He'd beat off to that image later. Instead he told you leave it, pulling your dress back down and turned you around to face him.

You giggled when he kissed you. "I fucking love when you cum inside me. Makes me feel so good, so warm." You rubbed your thighs together and he laughed with you, fixing himself up while you grabbed your purse and checked your make up. Only a little smeared.

"You're a naughty little thing, you know? Walking out of here with cum leaking out of you. What would your friends think, hmmm?"

Your laugh was louder than expected as you touched his shoulder once his hood was on and you'd opened the bathroom door to the steady pulse of the music.

"Trust me my love, you don't want to hear their stories!"

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