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mrpenguinpants · 1 year

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Low Battery Warning - Touch Starved HCs

— If he goes too long without you by his side, he starts to get irritable and too frustrating for anyone to deal with. For the sake of everyone, please remember to recharge your battery before leaving for extended periods of time.

— Tartaglia, Kaveh, Ayato, Alhaitham, and Dottore

[Masterlist]

I JUST WANT TO WRITE WHIPPED MEN OKAY? What do you mean I have to write a part 2 for two different fics??? I'm honestly surprised I managed to finish this. Also, ALHAITHAM NATION REJOICE, YOUR BOY IS HERE AND I CAN FINALLY MAKE A BANNER. I wasn't going to write him (I'm a kaveh stan) but now that he's here...

Tartaglia

While Tartaglia is the most favored to work with compared to the other Harbingers, that's only by a very slim margin. The closest you'll get to death is when the man gets bored and randomly picks someone to fight, but they usually make it out alive. Maybe a couple weeks in the medical bay and a few broken bones but they aren't dead for the most part. He's also the youngest and therefore the most easy-going even if he's a bit childish. He's a soldier first so he knows the pain of listening to someone verbally beat you down and not having the power to do anything back. But he's still a person at the end of the day and after so many people messing up and delaying his work, he's starting to get irritated. First, it was someone spilling tea onto important documents that he just finished signing, then the Fatui agents stationed near Jueyun Karst being defeated by some no-named treasure hoarders, and then finally being held hostage in his own office because the Liyue Qixing wouldn't leave him alone. God, he slumps over his desk, he just wants to go home and see you!

By the time he finally stumbles through the door, you're already passed out on the couch. He can't blame you, it's very late into the night and he would probably be more upset if you forced yourself to stay awake just to welcome him home. But he can still pout that he was taken away from you for so long, he didn't even get to see you all day. That's borderline torture. But he supposes he can forgive you since you look so cute bundled up in his red shirt. If he happens to take a picture or two that's for his knowledge and eyes only. So he easily scoops you up into his arms, taking a couple seconds to just stand there as he basks in the comfortable weight before he takes you to bed. Just for tonight. This will be the last time work takes him away from home for so long.

It lasts for two weeks. Usually, Childe could hold himself together, he's been away for far longer, but the fact that you're right there and he can't hold you is driving him insane. By the 14th day, Childe is ready to snap his pen in half and hurl it at the next person that comes through that cursed door. He doesn't though because it's usually Ekaterina, the only one that has the balls to talk to him right now, and she deserves far more than she's paid to deal with. But he's touch-deprived and tired. Even Zhongli with his infinite amount of patience advises him to sort himself out before inviting him out to lunch next time. He tried to deal with it on his own, this isn't the first time he's felt claustrophobic, but after the fifth Hilichurl camp he doesn't feel any better which only makes his mood sour further. He might even beat Scaramouche in how short-tempered he is right now. There's heavy air wherever he goes and whatever carefree persona he usually has on is thrown out the window.

It's Zhongli who clues you into how bad Childe's demeanor has gotten, the rascal looks horrible both physically and mentally. Despite the consultant and Childe being on friendly terms, you don't really know the man that well. But he doesn't seem like the type of person to lie so you thank him for the information and make your way to the Northland Bank. To be honest, you've been feeling the effects of not seeing Childe as often as you usually do. You know his work can get so hectic that it keeps him cooped up in his office but it's been a while since you've even seen that fluff of ginger hair. He usually doesn't want you near his work considering how it might put you in danger, but if he isn't taking care of himself then what kind of partner would you be if you didn't help?

Even outside the building, you can feel the effects of what Zhongli talked about. All the agents look like they're on their last legs, there's a gloomy atmosphere surrounding the building even though the sun shines brightly across Liyue harbor, and you can vaguely hear an annoyed Harbinger scolding someone. As soon as you set foot into the building Ekaterina nearly tackles you off your feet. Desperately thanking you for coming and looking at you as if you're the Tsaritsa herself.

As soon as Ekaterina says your name, Childe whips his head around at such a speed that you're afraid his head might fling off as his eyes lock onto yours. You know Childe wouldn't hurt you, never you, but he's looking at you like he's about to devour you and you're suddenly very glad you've never been on the receiving end of his anger. He shoves the papers in his hands into the agent's chest he was probably reprimanding and marches over to where you are.

"C-Childe?" "S-Sir?"

Ekaterina mirrors the wary call of his name until he's finally in front of you and without a word, throws his arms around you. You stumble a bit under his weight but you quickly circle your arms around his back and hold on tight so you don't trip over your own feet. You can only imagine what it looks like for Ekaterina to see her stiff boss suddenly deflate in your arms. A pleased groan escapes from him as he basically lifts you off your feet just so he can hug you closer to him. You almost feel like a child's teddy bear with your legs dangling in the air trapped in a crushing hug. You know that your relationship with Childe isn't a secret but you both don't show any displays of affection, you don't even really interact in public in general, so this is pretty open for the two of you. Well, for you at least. You don't even think Childe is registering anything around him except that you're here.

"Are you okay милый?" you whisper into his ear, nuzzling into the side of his head that's nestled into your shoulder. Your snezhnaya is a little rough around the edges but from how he seems to purr you think he enjoys it nonetheless. "Although I'm happy to see you too, don't you think we should move so we aren't blocking the main entrance?"

He sleepily blinks awake and slowly starts to acknowledge that you're both very much standing at the bank's entrance with everyone shamelessly staring. He frankly looks like he doesn't care, people have working legs, they can walk around you both. But he also doesn't want anyone to find another reason to take him away when he's very comfortable.

"If you need me, don't," is the clipped order that rings out through the bank. You know he's heavily censoring what he actually wants to say but from how everyone cowers away, they can probably tell what would happen if they disobey him. They all give him a nod and a salute before he's picking you up, cradles you into your arms, and swiftly walks upstairs. With a kick of his boot, the door slams shut and he sinks into his chair, you seated pretty on his lap.

"Please never leave me, I think I might die," he groans, re-wrapping his arms tight around your waist. You can only sigh fondly as you gently run your fingers through his hair, rubbing small circles into his scalp and he melts into goo. As if you would want to leave.

Kaveh

You know Kaveh is a bit...eccentric to say the least. He always says what's on his mind and most of the time his thoughts are things he should keep to himself. Even you're not totally immune to his blunt honesty despite the fact he tries to watch how he phrases things when directed to you. He doesn't want to accidentally hurt your feelings, regardless if you know he means no harm. It's rather cute that for someone who doesn't care about what others think of him, he's a bit insecure around you. He likes you, really likes you, and he often finds himself plotting out what he's going to say hours before your lunch date with him. But as soon as you greet him with that charming smile and a brief hug, he turns into putty and whatever flowery language he conjured in his mind is swept away. The confident architect that graduated with honors is reduced to a red-faced mess of stumbling words. It doesn't help that you find it adorable enough to press a chaste kiss to his red cheek and he swears that he's going to pass out from a heat stroke.

He's both extremely glad and terribly conflicted that your love language seems to be touch. He loves it when you brush your fingers through his hair but it always lulls him into sleep so he doesn't get any work done. He loves it when you hug him tightly but then he never wants to leave so he doesn't get any work done. He loves it when you cup his cheeks and pull him into a kiss but then he goes in for seconds, then thirds, and so on that he doesn't get any work done. If he went into alchemy rather than architecture he would dedicate his life work to studying why you have the touch of an Archon that compels him so. But he didn't and now that he's drowning in debt, he really needs to concentrate and finish his work before the deadline.

So now he has the painful task of trying to find an extremely polite way of asking you to leave him alone without you taking offense and breaking up with him. He would be devastated if he couldn't see your loving gaze on him again. But the situation is dire because as soon as he sees you, all he wants to do is curl up in bed with you in his arms. Preferably forever but he'll cross that bridge when he gets there. But every time he tries to bring it up it only takes one look from you for him to stutter and wave off his words. He tries to pep talk himself and every single time he claims that this will be the day that he, very politely, pushes you off, it ends with him melting into goo and waking up the next day with all his untouched work judging him from the table.

It gets to the point that he begins to air his grievances to Alhaitham of all people. To be fair, he doesn't expect the scribe to listen to a word he says and if he did, it would only be because Kaveh needed to pay his share of the rent. But he's pleasantly surprised when you pop up with a guilty smile and that Alhaitham explained his circumstances to you. He tries to clear up the situation, he has no idea what Alhaitham said specifically but it must have been put in the worst way possible, but you take his hands and he shuts up immediately. You give him a light giggle that melts his heart and you tell him to call for you once he's completed his work.

It was the worst decision he's ever made. Second to moving in with Alhaitham. Maybe his judgment of you being an angel was a lie and you were secretly the devil from how often his thoughts were plagued by you. He could draw a circle and think of your eyes. He knows that he's smitten in your presence but he didn't expect that to double when he's suddenly alone. His only motivation is that as soon as he's finished, he'll be able to see you again. But his mind and his work bleed together and he ends up drawing your face instead of buildings and pipes.

He ends up locking himself in his studio and slowly deforming into slime with how awful he's taking care of himself. Alhaitham has to pry him from the table only for Kaveh to flop in his arms that the scribe gives up and hauls the corpse over his shoulder and makes his way to your home. Kaveh still needs to pay his share of the rent so he's not allowed to die before then.

When you opened the door you weren't expecting Alhaitham at your doorstep with Kaveh over his shoulder. He doesn't seem to want to be in this situation either because it looks like he's two seconds away from throwing your boyfriend across the room. But he manages to reign everything in front of you and quickly explains Kaveh's situation, dumping said man into your arms, and telling you to fix it. You shoot him an apologetic smile that he waves off, it's not like it's your fault, before turning around and making his way back to his own home.

"Kaveh?" you whisper gently against his ear to not startle him. It only takes him a second to register your voice before he's perking up and beaming at you. He easily shifts positions so you're in his arms instead. Twirling you around and using the momentum to tuck an arm under your knees and smoothly picking you up, somehow supporting your entire weight in one arm while the other closes the door. Sometimes you forget that Kaveh is really strong despite his lean stature. He is a claymore user after all.

"Darling! What are you doing here?" Kaveh questions while he makes himself at home. If only your living space was big enough for him to store all his work otherwise he would have moved in with you by now.

"Alhaitham mentioned that your recent commission was taking up all your time and you weren't taking care of yourself. Are you alright?" you ask, wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself while Kaveh takes his shoes and coat off. In these types of moments, no matter what you do or say he'll refuse to let you out of his arms. If he has to live with one arm then he'll gladly do so just so long as his other hand is wrapped around you.

"Never better," he replies with a smile. He's obviously lying given the dark circles under his pretty red eyes but the soft look he sends you is enough to tell you that right now, he's never been more comfortable. It makes you a bit flustered to have such an intense gaze on you but Kaveh is always forward with his affections and this isn't any different. With you in his arms, there's nowhere for you to run to when he tilts your chin down and brushes his lips against yours.

"Be still for me..." he whispers, the vibrations of his voice tingling against your skin as both of your eyes slowly close. Only for the moment to shatter by loud knocks on your door. You both jerk apart and turn to the disturbance with varying expressions. You're a flustered mess while Kaveh scowls as if the door offended his entire life's work. He finally sets you down on your feet and gives you a quick peck on the cheek. Before marching to the door, flinging it open, and telling the man on the other side to shoo before slamming the door in his face. Unless the world is ending, don't knock.

Ayato

To say Ayato works hard is an understatement. There are several nights when he's glued to his desk rather than resting in bed. Such are the woes of him being forever dedicated to his duties as the Yashiro Commissioner. On days when there are big events and everything needs to be perfect, he's nearly inconsolable that Thoma weighs how much he can get away with if he knocks Ayato out with a frying pan. His pondering doesn't go far because even though Ayato looks like a corpse from the lack of sleep, he'd probably knock Thoma off his feet before the housekeeper could even raise his arms. Ayaka has better luck but she's only able to drag him away for a few minutes before he points in a random direction to divert her attention before disappearing as soon as she turns back. It's just something everyone is aware of and they try their best to support Lord Kamisato. But if it starts to look really bad, like Ayato might drop dead at any second, then you're called in. The last defense and their ace up the sleeve. Not to brag or anything but you have a spotless record and you intend to keep it that way.

It only takes one word from you to have the dignified and cunning Ayato turn into a scared rabbit. His name. None of the wary calls of Lord Kamisato, a dismissal of his titles, and certainly not your affectionate terms of endearment. It always brings the temperature of the room to zero and Ayaka has to double-check that her cyro vision didn't accidentally activate. Unlike Thoma and Ayaka, you're not soft on him and you set your foot down when it comes to his extremes. One of the many reasons he fell in love with you but it's coming back to bite him now. He hates seeing you unhappy, doing anything possible to wipe that frown off your face, but when it's him that's making you so displeased he can't help but look like a scolded puppy.

It doesn't take much for you to know that Ayato has overworked himself to the breaking point again. You understand his duties mean that he's going to be riddled with work but you're his partner first and foremost. You're there to care about Ayato, not the Yashiro Commissioner. And Ayato looks like he's falling apart at the seams. Heavy eye bags, pale complexion, and his body swaying back and forth before he catches himself from falling over. It pains your heart to see him like this and yet still push himself to keep going. So you take one, two, and three steps towards him to delicately take his hand in yours, rubbing soothing circles into his palm before intertwining your fingers together.

Unlike Thoma and Ayaka, he doesn't disappear as soon as you take your eyes off him. Just stands there and stares dopily at you while you issue orders to take over his work. God, you look so attractive when you're in control. It's been a while since he's seen anything but paper and ink but did you always look this beautiful? He's so glad he's going to marry you. Maybe he can force the elders to move the ceremony date up. Everyone in the room politely ignores the fact that Ayato is saying these thoughts out loud and how red your face has gotten.

He doesn't object when you pull him out of the room with you, blindly following you wherever you happen to lead him by the hand. As long as your hand is in his, he'll follow you to the ends of the earth if you'll allow it. It's a bit comical how the dignified Yashiro Commissioner recedes into himself and crumbles away into a love-sick man just by a simple touch. At much as it makes you feel a bit shy, it's nice to know that Ayato won't try and weasel his way out of your grasp and return to his work.

If anything he clings to you like an onikabuto on a tree. You have to waddle your way to the baths with an oversized blue-haired man refusing to let go and draping himself over your back. You know he's making this as hard as possible on purpose, just do you can dote and pamper him a bit longer before he succumbs to slumber and has to return to work. It dampens his mood thinking of the future but it's quickly ushered away by the warm water poured over his head. It's fitting that his vision is hydro because he fits himself into the space you provide as you begin to scrub his hair clean.

There's something meditative about having his hair washed by your hands that no one else can replicate. It's a luxury that he only receives when he works hard enough that his arms hang uselessly at his sides and his body slumps into itself. Soft and malleable, completely willing to bend and mold in whatever shape you wish. But your hands scrub through his hair gently, rubbing all the stress out of his body and never complaining. Right now there's nothing else that matters more than being here with you and you with him.

"I'm going to rinse your hair out. Close your eyes now," you softly say and he follows your instructions. The rush of warm water is soothing to his ears although it sparks something in his memory that momentarily takes him out of this romantic moment. He reaches blindly behind him to take your hand, rubbing circles into your palm to halt your actions.

"It's just occurred to me but aren't you supposed to be on a trip to Watatsumi island?" he opens his eyes to peer up at you, his long eyelashes tipped with water droplets reminding you of just how pretty Ayato is. It's almost a good enough distraction for you to forget why exactly you're here rather than speaking with Kokomi right now. Almost.

"I was but someone had to go and work himself to death again. You need to take better care of yourself Ayato. I don't want to see Thoma running across all of Inazuma just to drag me back because you can't seem to sit still for a few seconds," your frown deepens with each sentence. Your free hand that's not in his grasp is knocking against his forehead, albeit not hard enough to cause any actual pain. He only chuckles before pulling you into the water with him until you're sitting on the edge of the bathtub. His head lay comfortably against your thighs.

"Apologies." He's not sorry at all. "When you're not beside me I have to throw myself into my work or else I may go insane."

"Oh so now all of this is my fault," you huff exasperated but he can hear the undertones of how happy that sentence makes you. "Come on, you'll catch a cold if we stay here any longer."

"Mmm, indulge me," he mumbles into your skin, his eyes closing once again with a content smile on his face. He doesn't need to see to know that you have an equally fond expression.

"Oh, so now my lord wishes to relax?"

"Only because you're here."

Alhaitham

You know that your relationship with Alhaitham is unusual to onlookers. You're both polar opposites and yet somehow stumbled into a rather healthy and committed relationship. To others, Alhaitham is a talented and intelligent man. The perfect bachelor if it wasn't for his "extraordinary sense of individualism" that he doesn't pay attention to people around him. He's notorious for being hard to get along with that not even his handsome face is enough for people to sit around for too long. Meanwhile, there's you. A wandering traveler who takes work whenever anyone needs an extra pair of hands. You're a bit well-known for accepting any job that pays well regardless of how dangerous or weird it might be. But unlike Alhaitham, you're more than happy to make conversation and you're often seen conversing with scholars from every one of the Six Darshans.

To everyone's knowledge, it's you that's the clingy one. You always have a hand around his arm or throw yourself at him shamelessly. Everyone assumes that Alhaitham tolerates it because he never pushes you off but he doesn't reciprocate affection to the degree that you do. If only those nosy scholars could see him now. Your newest job has you traveling to the Chasm to help collect and study the newly opened area. While the Chasm is close to Sumeru, a series of mysterious accidents led the entire mine to be closed. With the Liyue Qizing gradually reopening the area there's a lot of ground to cover. Alhaitham doesn't care much for the details except that this means you'll be away from him for a few years rather than a few weeks. As soon as you told him the expected date you'll return his face instantly soured. It was so cute that you couldn't help but press kisses to the corners of his mouth until they lifted. But one thing led to another and you're now trapped underneath his strong figure for the past couple of hours with no signs of him letting go. Every day you're gone equates to one minute he gets to keep you here.

No matter how much Alhaitham wishes to make you stay, even going so far as to bribe you, you eventually gather your things, press one last kiss to his lips, and leave him in his too-quiet house. He doesn't want to admit it but as soon as he closes the door he already feels lonely. But he'll learn to cope and continue with his life. He's been through more challenging obstacles and made it through. It's only two years, 3 months, 14 minutes, and 58 seconds. Alhaitham sighs and leans against the door. He's not going to make it.

Everyone else is content to whisper behind their hands about how the scribe seems to be more hostile. While Alhaitham doesn't have the most friendly personality, he's still somewhat polite until someone gives him a reason to exit the conversation. But now Alhaitham can barely get two sentences in before insulting someone. He doesn't even mean to do it on purpose, it just slips out. A girl who happens to share your eye color is met with a backhanded compliment that she should eat more fish. A man whose skin color is just a shade lighter than yours is met with an irritated scowl before he could even say anything. It's only now that people start to miss your presence because anything is better than a walking warning sign.

It only takes a few weeks for him to crack. He's not usually this starved of attention but the knowledge that he won't see you for another two years has him itching at his wrists. While on the outside there doesn't seem to be any changes, he's perfectly calm and collected, but his facade breaks when he starts making rash decisions. When he heard that his senior Kaveh needed a place to stay due to his financial situation, he offered to live with him much to everyone and his own surprise. Even Kaveh suspiciously asks why Alhaitham is being so generous. He doesn't dignify it with a proper answer, only that he better get his situation fixed within the next two years or the scribe is kicking him out.

As the second year rolls past, it's Kaveh who brings up Alhaitham's sudden mood change. He seems...excited. Kaveh chalks it up to Alhaitham being happy that Kaveh is finally moving out but that'd be kind of low even for someone like Alhaitham. As someone who cares about the arts and romance, there's a certain care in how Alhaitham cleans the house. Every systematic movement is laced with a longing gaze. His wrists are rubbed raw that Kaveh has to physically step in or he might rub so hard he reaches the bone. But above all the dangerous aura around Alhaitham is replaced with something Kaveh can only describe as restless patience.

"Honey, I'm home!" your happy voice is accompanied by the loud slam of the door crashing against the wall. Kaveh is startled by a random stranger entering their house but mostly at the term of endearment. Alhaitham only lowers his book at your voice before going back to reading. A bit rude in Kaveh's opinion but he can see the small smile that Alhaitham tries to hide behind the pages of his book. It's not like you aren't a bit devious yourself. So you retaliate by plucking the book out of his hands, taking a quick glance at his page number before placing it on the desk.

"Welcome back. I assume your job went well?" Alhaitham sighs as you kick his legs apart, plop yourself down into his lap, and rest your head against his chest. If you weren't so enthralled by the masterpiece that was Alhaitham's physique, you would have laughed at how the blond-haired man seemed to stare owlishly at the scene. His eyes almost fall out of their heads when Alhaitham doesn't push you off, doesn't throw you over his shoulder, or even make the slightest hint of being irritated or embarrassed. He just places his hands around your waist, rests his chin on your head, and sends an icy glare to which the blond-haired man scoffs before excusing himself. It's not anything different from what he usually does to onlookers although this is you and you can tell just how weary he is. How deeply he relaxes in your hold as the tension melts from his shoulders. How his eyes search over your body for any injuries that you might have gotten. It does look like you got a bit roughed up during your stay at the Chasm. Your hair is cut shorter than he remembers, you've put on some muscle, and there are a few nicks and cuts running along parts of your skin that are visible. But none of that matters because you're here. You're finally here.

"Aww, Haitham did you miss me?" you tease only to quickly eat your words when he manuever's you sideways so he can pin your back against the couch. You're hit with a sense of deja vu back to two years ago when you were about to leave for this trip.

"The next time you take a commission that lasts longer than two weeks, I'm coming with you or you're not going at all," he grumbles as he tucks himself into the crook of your neck with no signs of leaving. You laugh now but he's dead serious.

Dottore

You aren't sure when it started but at some point, you've been labeled as "Dottore's Favourite". He always seems to be the slightest bit nicer if you happen to be there, his voice a smidge less aggressive, and a lot more touchy. He's a Doctor first so he doesn't want to be contaminated by whatever bacteria people have gathered. But with you, he always seems to have a hand on you. Either harshly pinching your cheeks like a child with a crazed grin whenever you mumble something he deems stupid or pulling your arm of out its socket as he yanks you through the hallways of his lab. You act almost as his shadow, permanently glued to his feet and forced to follow wherever he goes.

You wouldn't consider yourself exceptional at your job but you did know how to listen. Perhaps it was your blatant disregard for your lack of safety since your head was always in the clouds that let you do your job with a steady hand. You don't blame your college's, it's hard to work under so much stress. If you had to do quantum physics and whatever the hell smart people do with someone who could, and would, kill you on the spot if you couldn't tell him what 3567 x 438 was on the spot, you think you could have exploded and crumbled on the spot. But you were just the ditzy receptionist who twirled a pencil on her nose more than on a paper. The only thing you were required to do was make sure Dottore was never bothered and let him know if anyone important needed his attention.

You've seen the Regrator the most compared to the rest of the Harbingers. You don't know what a banker needs from a doctor but you're not about to ask. It's not your business and you aren't paid enough to care about what your boss does. Besides, for such a handsome face his presence creeps you out which is saying something considering there's a maniacal doctor that treats human lives like numbers on a stats page. But since you are his "receptionist" you have to make conversation with him. Most of your interaction extends to him asking if the Doctor is in and you politely saying that he's out. You both pointedly ignore the loud crashes and angry yelling from one of his segments behind the closed steel door.

Once again, you don't consider yourself exceptional at your job. You're just a lousy receptionist at a place that doesn't require it and who spends all their time spinning in the office chair than doing actual work. You're just as replaceable as any grunt in this hell hole. So when Tartaglia waltzes through the doors, blinking at you with his dead fish eyes, before nodding to himself and hauling you out of your chair you can only hope that Dottore manages to remember that he has a meeting with Pantalone at noon.

You're hardly gone for an hour. Tartaglia was just bored, bored enough to come to Dottore of all people, that he happened to spot you who looked equally as bored. He just roughed you up a little before he deemed you completely useless and a horrible fighter before sending you back on your way. Seriously, if he wanted a fight he should have just picked one of the skirmishers instead of a damn receptionist. Although you may have to reconsider your position because as soon as you walk back into the lab, a girl is throwing herself at you and demanding where you've been.

You don't get the chance to answer before she's hurriedly running down twisting hallways, down the stairs, and punching in codes so complicated it looked like she was trying to make music out of them. Whatever questions you have are ignored in favor of getting you somewhere as fast as possible. It begins to make sense when you're finally shoved into a room, the girl who dragged you all this way throwing herself onto her knees and begging for forgiveness for letting you wander off.

The lab is an absolute disaster. This isn't the organized chaos you're acquainted with but the aftermath of a manic episode you're familiar with. Glass shards dripping with fluorescent liquid, research notes torn apart that flutter around the room as faux snow, and one mad doctor in the middle.

"Where have you been?"

For someone who destroyed years worth of progress, he sounds oddly calm and collected. His deep voice is firm while he fiddles with a test tube of blue liquid, watching it slosh around before placing it onto a broken table. He barely pays any mind to the girl currently on her hands and knees, forehead pressed to the ground while she glares at you to say something.

"Out," is your reply. A casual shrug of your shoulders even though the Dottore's back is to you. He's not wearing his usual white coat. That's too bad, you think it looks kinda cool. Really goes with his bird aesthetic.

"Out...out you say. Out. Out. Out," he mumbles softly, each time he say's the word "out", he taps the test tube harder onto the table. The lull in conversation only makes the pressure of the room drop lower before the tension snaps and he hurls the test tube at the girl still on her knees. It's only thanks to your reflexes that you manage to grab the collar of her uniform and throw her back just as the test tube collides with the floor, the liquid melting away the concrete where her head was. You can only give her a nudge and a look towards the door for her to scramble to her feet and flee as far away as she can. The slam of the door behind her acting as the nail in the coffin as Dottore's body seems to slump in on itself.

"Where have you been?" he asks again, running a hand through his messy hair. He sounds and looks far more tired, his fingers twitching to reach out and hold you but his pride stopping him. So you push yourself and step forward into his space, reaching your hands out to cup his face and rubbing soothing circles into his porcelain skin. He doesn't lean into your touch but he doesn't push you away either.

"Getting tossed around by Tartaglia. He came by saying he was bored and I just so happened to be there," you say absentmindedly, twirling the long lock of blue hair that hangs off the sides of his mask. He responds by snatching your wrist, squeezing hard enough until your bones creak. "Were you worried? Did you think I ran away?"

He doesn't dignify your question with a response. Simply shrugging your hands off his face before he reaches up to pinch your cheeks, a familiar cackle vibrating from his chest.

"As if you would have anywhere to go."

———

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moonhoures · 7 months

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Wicked Games

🕷️ kinktober — day 16: edging 🕸️

pairing: haechan (nct) + reader (afab/fem)

genre: non-idol!au, smut

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, established relationship, subtle d/s dynamics (dom!haechan), edging / orgasm denial, oral (f receiving), dry humping, fingering, haechan does eventually let reader cum, haechan calls reader ‘baby’

word count: ~1.3k

synopsis: your boyfriend’s favorite game? denying your orgasms at the last possible second <3

a/n: dedicating this one to my fellow haechan stan @jaylaxies (aria 💙) 🤭

posted: october 16, 2023

kinktober masterlist

Three times. Your boyfriend had basically taken you by the hand, leading you to the very brink, the precipice, of an orgasm just to rip it away from you right before you could have it. Each time a whine would tear through your throat and escape through your lips before he would hush you with a kiss, telling you that would be the last one. But it wasn’t, it never was. He was in one of those moods again.

Haechan would often get into these sadistic moods where he would thrive off of edging you, denying your release over and over and over again until he finally felt some sympathy for you. He luxuriated in the way your brows scrunched together and your mouth parted to let out a noise of unfathomable pleasure before it turned into squeaks of disappointment and frustration. A smile would spread across his rosy lips when your knuckles would tighten then unfurl after being played for the nth time. It was all a game to him, and he only scored points when you looked disheveled, disheartened, and dissatisfied.

“Hae- Haechan, please,” your voice came out in cracked breaths, desperation dripping off of your words.

“Yes, baby?” he was so patronizing in the way he addressed you, like he was so innocent.

“I need to cum,” you whimpered like a wounded animal, begging for mercy, “Please.”

“You need to?” he repeated, “Or you want to?”

“I-,” you had to be careful, because however you answered next would determine your fate in the next few minutes, “I need to.”

“That so?” he asked after a moment of consideration.

You nodded, hissing when his fingertips touched the bruises he left from gripping your thigh while eating you out just ten minutes prior. The corners of his lips twitched, wanting to form a wicked smile. He continued to trail his fingers along your skin, over your hips and waist, past your navel, creating goosebumps in their wake. Up the center of your chest and the column of your throat, finally the digits came to a halt at your chin. They tilted your face towards his own as he now hovered close to you on your shared bed. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, the taste of your pussy still present on them from his earlier venture.

“Then I shouldn’t make my love wait any longer, huh?”

A venomous undertone was latent in the way he spoke. Your eyes began to tear up as you realized this will either be the finale of your torment or just another round of his cruel little game. You weren’t sure how much more of this you could take, but you wanted to cum so bad you couldn’t think straight anymore.

You breathed deeply in and out of your nose, gritting your teeth behind tight lips as Haechan’s fingers went back between your thighs, drawing meaningless lines and curves with the lightest touch possible. The skin between your thighs was sticky from the amount of arousal that had built up over the past thirty minutes. Thirty minutes of amusing foreplay turned into agony.

The first time, he had you pressed against the wall, your clothes still on. His knee was pressed against your cunt, expertly bucking up between your thighs until you were crying out his name and gripping onto his shirt for dear life. Then he was pulling away, tossing you onto the bed unceremoniously.

The second time, he was eating you out, relentlessly lapping at your clit like a piece of candy. And he didn’t stop until you were squeezing your legs around his head, moans spilling from your pretty lips. The same lips that whined out when he came up with a wet smirk on his own lips, mischief prominent in the way he moved up to kiss you.

The third time, he had been making out with you fervently, the two of you a mess of tangled limbs and mashed lips and teeth. He couldn’t hold back his grunts as he slotted his hips between yours and humped you. Both of you were still in your clothes, but only undergarments. You could practically feel his erection against your pelvis, the tip moistening his boxers as it bumped against your folds with every thrust of his hips. You were so close that third time, the closest you had gotten, only for him to pull away with a laugh when he noticed how pathetic you looked.

But now was the fourth time, and it seemed he was going to finger you. Usually your boyfriend liked to cum inside of you, so your chances of cumming soon were looking slim to none. Your chest deflated when you came to the realization, and Haechan noticed the shift in your expressions. A crack formed in his sadistic, playful demeanor.

“Want you to cum on my fingers. You can do that, can’t you, baby?” he kissed your cheek lovingly as his fingers finally slipped between the cushions of your thighs. The sides of his hands accumulated the arousal from your skin while his fingertips collected it from the depths of your slit. A chill went down your spine as you finally got him to touch you, like, actually touch you. Not with his knee or his tongue, “_________?”

“Yes,” you panted, already having forgotten the question. All you could think about was the pads of his middle and ring fingers teasing the slick skin around your clit. Your hips were bucking into his, yearning for more of him. He found it amusing, a cocky smile showing as he finally moved his fingers to your hole, dipping them in. His eyes watched your face contort with pleasure as he slowly sunk his fingers deeper, knuckle by knuckle, until he couldn’t go any more.

He slowly pulled his fingers out before thrusting them back in, repeating those fluid movements again and again. He created a pace that had your head digging into the pillows and your back arching. Your hands were clutching at his arm and the bed sheets, your fingernails denting his skin and your fingers twisting the sheets in their grip.

You were painfully aware of the wet sounds coming from between your legs. The squelching caused your ears and cheeks to burn with embarrassment, but it only turned Haechan on more than he already was. He loved knowing that he could make you this wet. That with a little foreplay and teasing, he could turn you into the biggest mess, and all without you cumming. If his pride could be measured it would’ve broken a scale by now.

“Cum on my fingers,” he said, gaze intense as he watched you get closer and closer to release. He knew your tells so well by now. The way you clenched around him was a dead giveaway, but your thighs also twitched and shifted, like you wanted to run but had nowhere to go. Your chest moved sporadically with your uneven, rugged breaths. Your moans became unbridled and carnal.

“Can I?” you whimpered, praying this wasn’t just some cruel joke he was making before he ripped the rug out from under your feet again.

“Yeah, baby, come on. Make a mess on my fingers, I want you to.”

Before he could even finish talking, you were already letting out a moan-like sigh, your hips pressing up against his soaked fingers. As soon as you finished, they fell back against the bed, and you were now aware of just how wet the sheets had gotten. But you didn’t care in that moment, and you wouldn’t for a while longer. You only cared about the buzzing sensation riding throughout your lower half, like electricity running through an electric fence. It crackled in your abdomen, your thighs, your toes, your clit. You forgot how good it felt to actually cum. Maybe now you were starting to understand why Haechan got off on doing this to you.

— taglist #1

@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedriswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @kisses4denji @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite @k-drizzle @iguanas-world

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asmosmainhoe · 3 months

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hi i saw that you mentioned you’d do Obey Me Characters react to you being jealous and was wondering if you did it, cause i couldn’t find it 😅. and if not.. well i guess this is a request haha thank you 🫶

The brothers reacting to a jealous MC

Notes: Omg it's been yeaaaaars since I talked about that jsnsjqh I totally forgot

Gender: neutral

Warnings: none

Masterlist

Lucifer

Saying that he doesn't enjoy the scene that unfolds before him would be a lie. You're standing there with your arms crossed and a frown on your face, too proud to admit your jealousy

He might even tease you little bit and have that awful cocky grin form on his pretty lips. That frustrates you more than anything

"Don't be a fool, my love. As much as I take joy in seeing you like this I don't want you to feel insecure."

"I'm not insecure though. I trust you."

"I know, but nevertheless I want you to remember that you have no competition. You could never have competition."

Maybe it's his reassuring voice or the adoration that is oh so obvious in his eyes that makes the silly voice in the back of your head shut up. You believe him when he says that no one compares

Mammon

So many mixed feelings. On one hand he likes the thought of having his favorite person fight for him, but on the others he really doesn't want you to beat yourself up over this

Mammon is a party animal and incredibly outgoing so those traits naturally come with some side effects which is in this case an overly confident admirer. The same admirer who is currently experiencing the terror of a lifetime thanks to the deadly looks you're giving them

As much as a jerk your beloved boyfriend can be this time he's keeping his teasing comments to himself. On the contrary even. He's sending clear signals towards the other demon by displaying so much affection towards you to the point where you have to practically shove him off you. It still leaves you giggling and grinning

"What in Diavolo's name are you doing?!"

"What does it look like? I'm givin' ya the Mammon deluxe package!"

Leviathan

Of course he knows the feeling too well. After all he's struggling with keeping it at bay at the slightest interaction you have with other people. It's not his intention to hurt you or cage you in simply because he can't control himself

So out of all the brothers Levi is the one to react the fastest. He's already pulling you aside for a more private setting and tightly wraps his arms around you

"Please don't think anything of it! You're my number one and you always will be!"

The hug might or might not have been a way to hide his intense blush as he's saying those words. We all know that it takes a lot out of him

He will avoid the other person like a plague from that point on even if you stop being jealous of them. Someone only has to mention their name and he's jumping to his feet as if he got stung by something

Satan

He doesn't care about how others feel about him so when you first mention that he has an admirer he doesn't pay it any attention. You don't know if it relieves or bothers you to be honest

While Satan couldn't care less about such things he still does care how you feel in this situation. If you're uncomfortable with the way the other person is treating him then he will address it to them immediately

But beware! He thinks the problem is solved with that and most likely doesn't quite notice that it still bugs you. You literally have to bring it up to him, but don't worry. Everything after that is easy

"Please don't get this the wrong way. I trust you with all my heart, but I don't know...I guess I need some extra reassurance to be able to get passed it."

"No, don't apologize, my dear. I'll give you anything you need to have the issue solved."

Asmodeus

Us Asmo stans know that he comes with a price. The price being a comically large amount of fans who would kiss the ground he walks on

Usually you're not the type to be bothered by that, because you knew exactly what you agreed to when dating him and Asmo has done everything in his power to never let you feel insecure in this relationship

Unfortunately there is still this one specific person who you can't seem to stand at all. The thought of them alone turns your stomach upside down and has your blood boiling

Please feel more than free to bring it up to Asmo though! He doesn't want you to feel that way.

Since the beginning he's been doing nothing, but fight the allegations that he's not a loyal partner and only cares for one thing and you've been making sure that he knows how much you trust him

"I can tell them to step on the breaks and if they don't listen then I'll just be a bit more assertive."

"What exactly do you mean with assertive?"

"Don't you worry your pretty head, honey."

The next day this person magically vanished from all social media and for some reason Asmo doesn't want to give you any details, but you do know that his fanclub has something to do with it

Beelzebub

Like Satan he couldn't care less what other people feel towards him. He has his family and his own close circle that's all he really needs, but he's an extremely attentive boyfriend. Your sudden mood changes whenever this particular demon is mentioned or around don't go unnoticed

"Did they do something to hurt you?"

Beel-fight-mode is activated and he's looking around for that person, ready to knock the breath out of their lungs

"No, no! It's a bit...silly."

You're feelings aren't silly! They're valid! Just tell him what's going on and he will get to it immediately

If you need some extra reassurance after that then he's more than happy to cover you in love and affection

Belphegor

Is it bothering you enough to put up with his teasing? Don't give me that look. We both know that he's going to provoke the shit out of you

"Wow, is someone jealous?"

"I will punch you."

Yes, he will make you suffer for several days, but when he notices that you're genuinely hurting from it he will stop

He doesn't mind being rude to others to get his point across or to get you what you want. So, no. He's not breaking their heart. He's shattering it into million tiny pieces and stomps on the remains

Later that day when you two are cuddling in bed he's telling you that you're the only one for him as he drifts off to sleep kissing you

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a-small-safe-place · 6 months

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His Haven

Homelander x Psychiatrist!Reader Pt. 1?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

When Homelander first met you, he just came in because Madelyn cooked up some scheme with Edgar to 'prove' that the members of The Seven were sound of mind and could pass a psychiatric evaluation similar to the one used in the army. Of course, you had been paid a lot of money to do the evaluations and even more money to ensure that these heroes passed no matter what they said. You were a respected psychiatrist in your field; that’s why Madelyn wanted you specifically.

Homelander went to his appointment, planning on leaving until you said something that caught his attention. You said, 'I am here for you. I took this job because you all spend your days helping and saving people, but at the end of the day, who helps and saves you? Obviously, I couldn’t physically save you, but I can be a place for you to talk if you need it. Nothing you say will leave this room.' Boy, did that stroke his ego in all the right ways. He decided to stay. Something about you was comforting, and he wanted to talk, so he started small with the obvious stuff. He led the conversation by making off-handed remarks about being better than everyone and having to be perfect for Vought. It was clear you didn’t understand his pain, but you were listening to him. You were actually listening to him and responding.

You weren’t like Madelyn, who seemed to argue with every other thing he said; you didn’t respond with dismissive and uncaring responses like Queen Maeve, and you could actually keep up with the conversation, unlike The Deep.

Homelander surprised you and himself when he began attending regular scheduled sessions. You usually led the discussion by asking various questions. Some questions he would lie about, not feeling totally safe to dive into certain topics, or he would just dodge the question and change the subject. Homelander knew you noticed this because anytime he did either of those things, your body language would change, and you would write something down in your little notebook. That notebook had made Homelander incredibly nervous until he found out you were not in there calling him a useless pussy. You were just simply writing topics you two had discussed and what topics made him uncomfortable.

You seemed to actually care about Homelander’s feelings, even the bad ones. Stan Edgar put Homelander in his place, and Homelander looked down avoiding Edgar’s pointed gaze like a child being scolded by their father. Homelander needed some reassurance, but he would never admit that willingly. Homelander felt weak and stupid for needing someone, but you didn’t seem to mind even when he was ranting and raving, so he went to you. You had been his haven. The one person he could confide in and actually be himself.

He arrived at your office in the morning while you happened to be filling out some paperwork. He knew you didn’t have any appointments today because this had been previously the day Vought scheduled for the evaluations of the heroes. Homelander spent the whole day pestering you. 'What are we doing now?' He asked, not entirely oblivious to your mild frustration. 'Still just filling out paperwork,' you replied. He rolled his eyes. 'God, your life is so boring. Go to work, talk to the crazies, fill out paperwork and go home, and you do that all alone? I forgot how boring normal people can be.'

You laughed before telling him, 'no one is keeping you here.' Homelander’s jaw tightened. This pissed him off. You’re not supposed to say that. You’re supposed to offer to do something more fun. You seemed to notice that 1,000-yard stare he has as he retreats into his own mind. 'Look, I just mean that I have to finish work. I know it’s probably boring you to death just sitting here; you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,' you told him, which seemed to make him feel a bit better, but he’s not entirely out of his head. 'It’s fine, we can just talk while you work,' he tells you with a feigned smile.

Homelander begins to perk up while you finish your paperwork and finally asks you the million-dollar question, 'What are we doing when we get home?'

'I am going home to cook up some dinner and watch some television,' you told him, trying to hint that you were wanting to be alone. Homelander was undeterred. 'What are we eating? I could use a home-cooked meal. We could watch one of my movies. I’ve been told I’m a great actor.' Homelander needs you to agree and compliment him. He desperately wants you to tell him he does a good job, even if you’re just talking about acting. 'Yeah? Your movies are pretty famous,' you say, accepting your fate that he isn’t leaving you alone tonight.

The night is spent with him at your house. Homelander wastes no time making himself at home and pilfering through your things. He feels comfortable being so ensnared in your scent. He becomes more comfortable as the night carries on. You fix his plate and drink for dinner, and the two of you share a dinner that he perceives as romantic. Your food isn’t as good as the private chefs at Vought, but Homelander loves it because he got to see the love you put into making it just for him.

You two clean up together. It’s really you cleaning, and Homelander helps by talking about which movie of his you should watch tonight. Finally, you try to retire to your room, but he follows. 'I thought we were gonna watch a movie… it doesn’t have to be one of mine,' Homelander tries not to sound too desperate, and he hated to say that last bit.

'I had planned on watching something in my room, but you can come lay with me if you want,' you tell him reluctantly. Homelander is excited but tries to keep that hidden. You two lay down and begin watching one of his movies. By the end, Homelander is 'asleep.' He knows you can’t tell the difference in him and ignores you when you gently shake him trying to wake him. He’s not the biggest fan of sleeping in strange beds, but for you, he can make an exception. Next time, he wants you in his bed though.

#homelander x you #reader x homelander #gender neutral reader #homelander x reader #homelander fanfiction #homelander #the boys fanfic #the boys #the seven #tw: homelander #psychiatrist!reader #psychiatrist x character #fem!reader #male!reader #nonbinary!reader

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heartsforhavik · 29 days

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anon req: ugh i wnna abuse bayani in a twisted and heavy way so bad. that creep would probably like it

a/n: hey so ummmm that part 3 is taking me a hot minute so here's smth small to feed the bayani stans in the meantime. tysm for all the support and patience😇😇 also anon i know u said twisted, but i don't think i went as twisted as u wanted i apologize. also peep my new carl grimes layout rip havik layout 2023-2024. also if u saw me publish this a few mins ago no u didnt

you can abuse him however you want. kick him, spit on him, or thrash him around like a toy. please take your anger out on him. had a stressful day? feel free to use him as a punching bag. feeling angry or sad for no reason? he’s already on his knees for you to toy with. he'll be fine. you could even tie him up so he doesn't squirm as much. hell, you could even use something as painful as a taser on him and he wouldn't mind. he would enjoy it. bayani would love to be used however you see fit. just ignore the mysterious stain on his crotch.

even if you're rough with him in bed. like if you tease him by using a vibrator to its highest setting and rubbing it against his dick. he'd be begging for you to let him cum, but you would leave him alone right before his release just to torture him a little. bayani would be whining and pathetically trying to grind himself against your leg for some sort of friction, just to feel a little bit of your touch. but you'd leave him alone, and walk away hearing his desperate pleads for you to come back, and his frustrated whimpers as he struggles to cum without your aid.

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crimeronan · 2 months

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this is a bit silly but while i'm thinking about adam being low-empathy: another thing that hurt my feelings about Adam Discourse (TM) a few years back was the insistence among some people that you can't draw parallels between adam's dad and adam himself because adam's worst fear is becoming his father. this is probably uncharitable but a lot of it felt like it came from people who either hadn't been abused, OR people who HAD been abused but were Perfect Victims (TM).

like. adam isn't a perfect victim. he's vicious and temperamental and cold and easily frustrated and lashes out and cannot process his own emotions. he's stubborn and a control freak and a neurotic prey animal and he makes mistakes and he makes insane assumptions not just about himself, but also about other people.

it felt like some people read the "too much monster blood in him" line, when he's like Well I Guess I'm Broken Forever, & they were like oh nooo honey no baby you don't have any monster blood in you. you're not a monster and never could be

when the whole point is like. the whole point is that actually, adam COULD be. he could be!!! he's NOT a monster but he could be. pains are taken repeatedly to show that his first instincts are Not to nurture/care/be kind. he's (reasonably) callous about ronan's situation in the beginning, he doesn't give a fuck when kavinsky dies, his first thought about opal is "ugh i wish we could just get rid of her" and then he hates himself.

my point here is: he has to TRY. adam is trying so fucking hard for all four books. people who read him in bad faith read sins into him that he didn't commit -- wanting to hit blue once is equated to having actually hit her, etc. but people who stan him often have the opposite problem of acting like "monstrosity" is a quality that Good People couldn't have, and therefore adam can't have, because he is Good People.

adam isn't a monster. adam could easily be a monster if he stopped trying. the reason adam isn't a monster isn't bc he's a perfect victim, it's because he Gives A Fuck. u know??

#this post ended up long somehow. consider it me processing the strange intersection of dad and adam feelings today #(the post is about me. this is what the refrance.)#also i think it would be hot for adam to kill people and not care but that's a separate power fantasy thing.#is unrelated to how i consider and meta abt his canon arc.#trc #trc meta #adam parrish #abuse #violence

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seoliee · 2 months

Text

ZAYNE ENTRY 1 ; INJURY

For the Zayne stans out there. This is a very short one and wrote it in under 30 minutes or so. Just a lil fluff for a sweet treat from yours truly.

Word Count: 485 words

Pairings: Zayne x reader

• You looked away, unable to return Zayne's scrutinizing gaze from across the other couch as both of you sat in silence. For you, it's a very uncomfortable and eerie silence of what's about to come.

• You involuntarily flinched when you heard a frustrated sigh coming from him and soon he spoke. "What do you have to say for yourself?" It's a simple question and yet you couldn't think of a proper response due to the thick atmosphere.

• "Um.. I did.. great?" Zayne's forehead immediately furrows upon hearing your answer. You shrinked back into your seat, keeping your eyes down and fidgeting your fingers. You decided to shut your mouth after that.

• Zayne decided to cut off work upon hearing the news of your accident during one of your missions. It was just right after a surgery when he was told about you and immediately rushed into the emergency room. He saw you sitting on one of the beds, the nurses treating your other wounds and a cast is on your right arm.

• Zayne felt relieved seeing that you're alive and only got off with a broken arm, but he still felt a bit frustrated that you were being careless. He is aware that your job is filled with danger in every corner, and that every mission should be held with the topmost priority. But, isn't prioritizing your own safety important as well? Really. He can't fathom to understand hunters.

• Zayne knocks on your bedroom door, waiting for a response before letting himself in. A few seconds and there wasn't any sound coming from inside. Worried, he turns the knob and sees you on the edge of your bed, struggling to take off your shirt with one hand.

• You turn your head towards him, unsure of what to react at the given situation. You snapped out of it when he started to walk towards you. You, instinctively scoot farther, asking him. "W-What do you want—"

• "You look like you're struggling. Let me help you undress." Zayne reaches out to the hem of your shirt, but stops him by grasping his hand out of panic. "N-No! I'm fine! I can do it myself." You quickly said, cursing yourself from stuttering at the beginning. You knew it's merely an innocent act and out of concern, but for some reason his words were able to make your heart skip a beat and it's not good.

• Zayne observes your red cheeks, chuckling softly as he finds your reaction as adorable. "I can't let my patient be in distress. This is a doctor's order."

• "Only as a doctor?" You asks softly, unknowingly giving him the doe eyes and a slight pout. In return, Zayne's hand reaches up to caress your cheek, leaning in a bit.

• His hand slowly travels downward, grasping the hem of your shirt. "Then, as your significant other. Let me take care of you."

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #zayne love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace x reader #zayne x reader

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dollyyss · 5 months

Note

ok ok if you haven’t gotten any requests yet would you do main four + butters and maybe how they kiss you….

~🍋

Mwahaha thank you for this, idk why but recently butters has just been on my mind and I needed to start adding him. I WANNA SQUISH hisS GOD DAMN FACE AND TWLL HIM HOW MUCH OF A FUCKING CUTIE HE IS I CANT GET OVER HIM

Also most definitely wanna start writing for Craig’s gang too so if anyone wants to see that please let me know!!

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

How the main four + butters kiss you

Established Relationship ₊ ⊹

All characters are aged up! High school AU! ‧₊˚✩彡

Kyle, Stan, Kenny, Cartman and Butters! 𐙚

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: none!! If there is anyway please let me know!

I think you can tell what two I enjoyed writing for with this one.. I think I almost cried.

Kyle 🐇𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒🪐

-My gentle boy. His kisses are as stated, so fucking gentle. No day will go by where he treats you harshly. Everything he does he does carefully and softly. His lips are also soft, I see him wearing chapstick so he’s got a slight sweet taste to his lips.

-His normal kisses are quick pecks to your lips, the corner of your lips or your temples. These kisses occur when he sees you for the first time that day wether it be he picks you up in his car to take you to school, dropping you off to any classes you have without him or when he’s saying goodbye when you have to leave at any circumstance or situation. When he gives quick kisses his hands will either be on your waist or he places a hand to hold your arm quickly.

-but his deep kisses.. oh now those.. are different. He’s slow, while you sit beside him on his bed; heart pounding blood cells inflating your heart and racing out to the rest of your body as he inches closer. His hand will slowly come up to your face, his cold palm soft against your cheek as he gets close enough to just trace his lips against yours, your breathe playing with his. His eyes will linger for a moment your noses brushing before his lashes close with his eyes and his lips are pushed against yours in a gentle manner. It’s until you move closer wanting more that he gets just a bit more aggressive, he’ll push a bit harder until you have to grip onto his shoulders as he continues to hold your face. He’ll move to get even closer, pulling your face just as close. These moments are out of desperation. Not in a silly awful way but in ways that he just needs you. He hasn’t seen you in some time? He’ll kiss you like this to remind you how much he’s missed you. When he feels the mood is right and feels things will go further then just making out these kisses become more heated, more touchy, more whiny.

-when he’s comforting you, his kisses have more meaning behind them. Not that they never do but these are special kisses to when they are needed. Almost like his very own superpower for you. He kisses everywhere he deems perfect. Your forehead, temples, nose, collarbones, shoulders. Anywhere just to hear those soft giggles again.

-Kyle mother fucking Broflovski. I love this hot headed motherfucker. P.S I was listening to only by RY X to write this bit.. and I fell more in love.

Stan .° ༘🎧⋆🖇₊˚ෆ

-another Gentle kisser, but only in times when he feels quiet. Small even. Or when he knows you just need him or in just simple greetings and goodbyes. His lips are a bit chapped but not crazily, more or so from biting them so much due to pent up frustrations or anxiety.

-he’s a nervous kisser. As a kid puking when around someone he likes was fairly common, but he grew out of that a bit. He still curses himself though when your lips are on his because he feels that same core in his stomach tightening and his throat growing heavy. You just don’t know how nervous you make this boy. He’s nervous in many ways, but his normal kisses consist of a kiss to the forehead and or lips. He’ll have you curled against him while you watch something he’s been really into recently, or watching him play a game and every once and a while he’ll turn to place a warm affirming kiss to your forehead. Sometimes before class he’ll push back your hair to place a kiss to your head and chuckles at your grumpy grumbles you give him as you try to fix your hair again. And when he kisses your lips, he lingers, not wanting to let go from yours as they feel so soft against his like they fit so perfectly.

- When he’s feeling needy, his kisses become a bit more hungry and linger far more. They become curious even. His lips want more, why are you pulling away? He likes to swipe his tongue under your lip slightly just so you can gasp softly and he pulls you in close by your hips devouring as much as he can get. Like Kyle he becomes more desperate, much needier.

Kenny ₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉

-mmmm Kenny. I promise you he was sweet moments. He’s just so infatuated with you he can’t help himself at times? Surprisingly he’s lips are quite soft, might I add softer then kyle’s.

- a common kiss from kenny are also out of nowhere. He randomly grabs your face and places a trillion kisses to your lips. Squishing your lips so you look silly while he gives you such wet kisses. It annoys the hell out of you when he starts the squishing but how could you say no when he laughs against your lips when you roll your eyes at him, when he smiles that pretty smile just to give you a kiss to your cheek and let you get to your class, dropping you off at home or seeing you. Denying him is like denying you life. He’s a silly kisser for sure. But it shows that he doesn’t just do this to get off, just to have your lips on him. No he wants to. He wants you to know that you’re more then that to him, and if he has to give you a trillion and one kisses he will.

-But this is Kenny we’re talking about so his kisses differ when the mood changes. When you’re underneath him, gripping his arms and so desperately trying to reach up to his lips he chuckles so devilishly. He’s a teaser.. and he knows how badly you love his kisses so when you can’t get them.. and suddenly he’s suffocating you with his kiss the world pops. And then pauses. Everything in you rattles as if he’s taken over you. It’s sloppy, so deep his tongue will dance with yours, exploring your mouth.. And Yet.. he makes it so meaningful all at the same time? He’ll bite your bottom lip before smirking and letting go, placing a gentle kiss to the bite mark and continuing on.

Cartman 🎧✮🧺✧˖°

-It’s Cartman. He’s not much of a kisser but when he does it’s always for a reason. There never is not a reason. But he won’t ever tell you that oh no no no cartman keeps this to himself, though it really isn’t hard to catch onto his reasoning for many things. He never puts reason to anything unless he genuinely is invested in it, and you happen to be one of them.

- His normal kisses are quick, to the point and not as meaningful these are to say hello, or goodbye when he sees you throughout the day. They aren’t anything special. But when you’re angry? He’s quick to swallow his pride and grab your wrists pulling you into a kiss in hopes to calm you down, he lingers for a moment before pulling away and giving you the “are you done look” it’s more to cover up the fact that he just wanted to help calm you down. Having a panic attack freaking out over god knows what he’s quick to grab the sides of your face and place a kiss to your lips, slowly presses kisses to your cheekbones. He always tells you he’s just kissing you to just.. kiss you but.. it has to mean something. It’s cartman something always means something.

- Anything sex related completely different story. He’s a mess, his hair his all over the place, cheeks flushed and lips plumped due to your excessive kissing. This is one of the only times he’ll fully admit why he’s doing it. Why he’s being so missy so.. lovey. So unlike cartman. These kisses tend to come out because he can’t help himself. He can’t contain himself any longer and will admit to the fact that he needs your lips on his.

Butters ˚☆🐈*๑

-he’s so loving. He’s so.. he’s just so RAWRRRR. He’s such a sleepy kisser, such a dopey love sick puppy for you and your lips. He tends to taste like sweets.. ahh don’t say anything he wasn’t supposed to have that slice of cake from the fridge.. he’ll get grounded.

-He’s so in love with you. Like Cartman in one way and one way only. He’ll kiss you when you ramble. I think for him it’s more that he can’t help himself, he watches the way your lips move and he just needs them. He watches them so intently and so carefully so he knows when to kiss you so he doesn’t cut you off from your story. He waits to you finish taking your breath and dives in to kiss your lips. Please.. please run your fingers through his hair.. he melts into your lips so quickly if he feels your fingers curling his straight strands. His kisses are sweet, happy. Filled with so much trust.. he’s almost tooth rotting how fucking soft he is. How sweet he is. When you’re studying at his place he asks if you want some water, getting up to place his hands on the back of your chair and placing a kiss to behind your ear. He kisses you to just kiss you. There’s never an evil meaning behind it never a vile meaning by it, not even in this intimate moments. He kisses you when he greets you, drops you off anywhere in these moments he places a kiss to your lips then to your nose before going back to your lips. And it’s a must. If you forget to do it in your greetings and goodbyes.. he’ll be so sad. In any other moments he kisses you all over, you always end up smiling so happily while he kisses you, as he’s quickly giving you big smooches on your cheeks and listening to your pretty laugh.

-in intimate moment he’s the same. His kisses never change, they’re always loving. Reassuring, trusting. They always felt like home. They always feel safe. Feel genuine. He won’t even go any harder unless you feel him you want him to be aggressive.. because he wants whatever makes you happy.

#eric cartman x reader #eric cartman x y/n #eric cartman x you #kenny mccormick #kenny mcormick x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle broflovski x y/n #south park x reader #south park x y/n #south park x you #stan marsh x y/n #stan marsh x you #stan marsh x reader #butters x reader #butters leopold stotch #sp butters #south park hcs #south park headcanons

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forfucksakesniall · 9 months

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Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Driver!Reader

Trigger Warning/Content Advisory: Jealous and Kinda Mean Lewis

It's common to have celebrities visit the garage in F1, and you find it an advantage to meet some of them. Brad Pitt, The Kardashians, Megan Thee Stallion, Paris Hilton and many more. The one encounter that lives up until now was Sebastian Stan. You are his biggest fan. When you saw "Bucky" in the garage, he was the most gorgeous being you've ever seen—wait, Lewis.

You looked around the garage to find him but to no avail. It seemed like the perfect opportunity to pounce on Sebastian Stan. He was being toured in Lewis's garage, and somehow, I got the news of our visitor next door.

As you stepped into the garage, you immediately looked for "Bucky," and there he was, sculpted by the gods themselves. You were in total awe of him—his beautiful blue eyes, perfect jaw, his fit was eye candy, and his hair in a bun. This man is just—UGH.

Your phone buzzed, and you checked to see that it was from Lewis.

TODAY

Lewis

Do you mind closing your mouth?

Embarrassed, you closed it. But how did he know you were here? You looked around the garage one last time when you caught a glimpse of the monitor. The cameraman had captured your whole reaction while you were here.

You glared at the cameraman, then ignored him afterward. You couldn't let this opportunity slip away from meeting Sebastian Stan. When the tour was almost over, it was your time to shine.

He was about to head out when a journalist spotted you both and asked if she could do an interview with you and Sebastian. You enthusiastically agreed to the idea, and as you approached him, he also agreed to the interview. Finally, luck was on my side.

Since it was somewhat dark in the garage, you were asked to step outside the grid for better lighting. As the journalist set things up, you turned to Sebastian, and to your surprise, he was already looking at you.

"I'm a big fan, by the way," you said.

"Aw, that's so sweet. Thank you so much," he replied, and then he hugged you. The hug felt like it was taking longer than expected, and just as you were lost in the moment, you heard someone clear their throat.

It was the journalist, reminding you both to continue with the interview.

Reluctantly, you let go of the hug and settled for a side hug with Sebastian, which he didn't seem to mind, and he placed his hand on the side of your arm.

Throughout the interview, you found yourself mostly agreeing with whatever the journalist was saying. Afterward, you took photos together, which seemed to take forever to finish. You waved goodbye to Sebastian and blew him a kiss as he left.

TODAY

Lewis

Do you mind closing your mouth? Seriously, doing an interview with him? Did PR agree to this? What's with all the hugging? Did it really have to be that many photos?

Oh no, you're getting grumpy Lewis today.

You were on your way to your side garage and slowing to the back of the Driver’s room. When you get in you see Lewis standing there looking at you.

“Hey…” you said awkwardly

“....” he stays quiet

“You had Sebastian Stan in your garage… I met him... But you know that already…” you mentioned.

“Yea, you were so busy… Seems like you already forgot about me..” Lewis replied, heading towards the door to leave.

Quickly, you blocked his way and locked the door behind you.

“Why are you acting like this?” you said in frustration

“Wouldn't you wanna know” he sassed.

“Lewis… Are you... Are you jealous?” you were trying not to smile but it was obvious.

“Why would I- I don’t..” he huffs in annoyance, struggling to find his words.

You grinned mischievously, Oh Lewis you thought to yourself

You stepped closer to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. Your faces were inches apart from each other. You were looking at his eyes and slowly down to his lips.

He was avoiding your gaze, and you sighed at his persistence to ignore your questioning.

“So.. No Kiss?... Okay then..” you tell him and place your face on the crook of his neck and inhale deeply. Gosh, you missed him. But you wouldn’t admit that because that would backfire for sure.

At first, he was stubborn, not hugging you back, but then you could feel his arms snake around your waist. You heard him mumble something.

"What?" you asked him.

“I said you smell like a man” he retorts back.

Oh, it must be Sebastian's perfume. You have to get back at him for this.

“How was Shakira any different…” you sassed back to him.

“I told you that was for PR… and you were with me the whole time…”

“Whatever…”

You get to see jealous Lewis, to be fair it wasn't too bad. He still went to see me in the driver’s room like he always does. He’ll give me a kiss, a hug, and whisper sweet nothings to me. But today took a violent turn.

“I’m sorry…” you finally admit that maybe you overdid it. You got excited and fawned all over Sebastian.

“No, I’m sorry for being immature about it… I just thought maybe... You like him better than me... Or whatever. But I wasn't jealous, okay?” he says to you like a secret.

“Sure… So, you aren't mad anymore?”

“For a kiss, I won’t” he teases you.

I pull away to see his face and finally his beautiful brown eyes. He leans his forehead to mine.

What a tease.

You lean closer and your lips touch. A soft and affectionate kiss, filled with sweetness and warmth.

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mediocre-shark-tales · 3 months

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Colby Brock x Reader

Summary - Colby didn't realize that another girl had been trying to pull him away from you. He fucks up big time and has to earn back your trust, earn back that unconditional love he's close to losing.

WARNINGS - angst, mentions of cheating, depressed thoughts, self hate, arguing, mentions of light violence, and swearing.

Masterlist

You sat in your room, tears cascading down your face. You were currently living with Sam, Kat, and Colby in one large house. You and Katrina did have your own rooms, but they had been transformed into small office spaces where you both could do work from home or anything you needed to do without distractions around. Your office space did involve a small single person bed for the nights where you would get lost in work, or so overloaded that you would stay locked away in there. But Colby did have a key to your room and would usually carry you away to his room. That was where you normally stayed, since you two had been dating for so long. It was typical by now for any couple to be comfortable with sharing a room. So you two did.

Today had been your 25th birthday, Katrina being your closest friend had planed you a big party inviting all the friends you had made over the last few years. Seeing everyone was so great, especially Jake and Tara. Even though they were no longer together, they still were my close friends. On a scale they would sit together right below Katrina. As the night went on, I had become more and more frustrated. There was still no sign of my boyfriend, the one person I should have been guaranteed to celebrate with.

It was only 3 hours into the party when he posted on his instagram. It was him and Stan, they were hanging out together at some random bar or nightclub. I didn't pay attention that much, only that Colby was with Stas. That he forgot my birthday and had gone to a bar with another girl without telling me before hand.

Some may think that is insecure and jealous of me to expect him to tell me when he hangs out with girls. However when both of us are popular YouTubers who have fans watching and theorizing about our every move on a daily basis. Honesty about where we are and who we are with is the best way to keep our relationship happy and stable. I was already getting spam from comments trying to tel me Colby must be a cheat this time for hanging out with Stas on my birthday without me. They knew I wasn't there cause all of my friends and I had made a post about my party. Them wishing me happy birthday on different socials.

After seeing that text, I had begun overly drinking trying my best to get wasted. Jake, Tara, and Kat were keeping close eyes on me the whole time. Sometimes they tried to slow me down, or calm me down, anything that would get me to stop pushing myself. Sam had even told me that he was on my side about this whole mess up from Colby. He was trying his best to get in contact with his friend. But all of that was to no avail.

Which is why I now laid in my bed, locked away in my own room. I had stolen Colby's key to my room from him. He always kept it in the same drawer in his room. It was rare that he needed to use it so he always left it in the same place. I had thrown it onto my desk with my own key after locking the door.

It had been 1 hour since everyone told me goodbye and left back to their homes. I stared at my ceiling, the time I had spent crying had finally begun to lull me to sleep.

However when the front door opened, I could hear the footsteps of someone coming closer and closer to my room. When they tried the door handle, that is when I knew it must have been Colby. He tried knocking on the door, but I continued to ignore his attempts.

I even heard Sam talking to him. "Leave her alone Colby" He said with venom dripping from his voice. "You fucked up, and while you do owe her an apology and explanation, she had an emotional breakdown. You know what that means right? Maybe you don't since you had the audacity to forget such an important day. Well she went and got herself wasted, I was sure she would blackout or throw up in a matter of minutes after she started. So even if she was awake, she would be in no way able to talk to you." Sam finished. "But I-" Colby started but sam cut him off. "she could barely get up here by herself Colby. Jake, Tara, and Kat had to convince her in anyway possible to stop drinking and go to bed. You know what she talked about the whole time?" Sam asked. I heard another pair of footsteps come up, Katrina. She spoke finishing Sam's story for him. "She started to talk about everything she 'thinks' is wrong about herself. Don't you remember how many guys broke her heart like this Colby? You and I were her closest friends at the time. The way she came running to us back then, well that's exactly what happened tonight. She's in there probably covered in tear stains thinking the worst of herself. Until she found out where you were, she would ask us if we had heard from you yet. In a room of all her favorite people she still looked for you. She wouldn't have cared if you were just late, she just wanted to celebrate her birthday with you." I heard Katrina scoff before continuing. "And to think, she had spent a week preparing for your birthday, spending all of her time that day with you just last month. You couldn't even remember her birthday."

Sam spoke up once more. "Colby we are so disappointed in you, You better fix this, make it up to her. For now though, just go to bed and leave her alone for the night. She deserves that much from you." Colby said nothing more before walking off. Sam and Katrina also leaving to their room moments later. My body slowly gave out only a few minutes later, succumbing to the sweet release that accompanied well earned sleep.

When I woke up the next morning, my head had a dull small ache. Looking at myself in the mirror across from my bed. I saw that I looked like a mess. So I got up, changing into a pair of sweats and a random hoodie of mine. I then brushed out my hair and put it up into a messy bun. Checking myself over, I grabbed my phone and room key before heading out. I locked the door behind me, before waltzing down to the kitchen. I was in need of some water, I felt the dehydration buzzing through my system.

Turning the corner into the kitchen I saw Sam and Katrina. Across from them sat Colby and Stas. Colby looked like he slept horribly, Stas never once faltered the smile on her face. Katrina was scowling at them but gave me a sympathetic smile. Sam was the one to speak seeing me. "Hey y/n, there's some water bottles in the fridge for you. We left some medicine to help with the hangover on the counter over. The two burgers next to it are also your to help the hang over." He pointed to the counter where the meds and burgers sat. I nodded. "Thanks Sam."

Within the next two steps, Colby was already trying to get up and come over to me. "Y/n I'm so sorry-" I put my hand up towards him and he stopped mid step. "Now is not the time Brock, We will talk later, not while I'm suffering from a hangover. Especially when I have barely had any real time to process what the fuck you did last night. So sit you ass back down and continue with your conversation that I so terribly interrupted." He returned to his seat sadly, watching me with worry.

With that Stas got up coming over to me. "What is your problem y/n? he's just trying to explain himself, he deserves more respect from someone who just let their insecurity take over on some random night." I shook my head and rolled my eyes. She didn't deserve shit from me. In the next second my head was forced to the side, my left cheek slowly increasing in a hot burning sensation. The others yelling at Stas for slapping me. When I looked back at her, I watched her face fall from the angry smirk she gave me. I looked at her with the exact same blank stare I was giving her before. No reaction to her actions like she wanted.

"Actually Anastasia, I wasn't insecure about him being with you. I could care less because I know Colby has long gotten past whatever minuscule amount of adoration he held for you. The only girl he wants to be with is me. What I am upset about is that my boyfriend, forgot my birthday and instead spent the day with someone else. He could have hung out with anyone else in the world, I would still be the same way. Oh but keep trying to steal him away sweetie, maybe if you are lucky enough he may change his mind. However if you have a brain behind those eyes, then you would know to give up now and move the fuck on." I spoke to her in the same dead flat tone that my face showed.

I picked up my burgers and meds, grabbed a water bottle and walked out of the room. On the way back up to my room I could hear Kat yelling. "Stas, get the fuck out of our house. I don't want to hear from you or see you for a long time. Maybe until you know how to get your act together and move on from your hopeless love. Y/n used to be your goddman friend, how could you hurt her happiness just cause e you were crushing on her man!? Nope! Don't even try to explain yourself right now! OUT!" I smiled, I was glad to know that Kat would pick me over her without hesitation. I never wanted her to have to pick between me and Stas when the two of us fell out. But right now, it was nice to know someone had my side.

I opened the door to my separate room and went in. The door shut behind me as I sat down at my computer. After taking the meds, I began to edit some footage for a vlog I had gotten last week. Occasionally I had some bites of burger, this was how I was going to destress and calm down from that whole interaction. About 30 minutes later there was a knock at my door. "Come in." Glacing back I saw Colby open the door and peek in. "is it really okay for me to come in babe?" I sighed. I would have to get this over eventually.

"Alright, I can take a break, come in and sit." I turned around and watched him walk slowly over to my bed sitting down next to me. I looked at him and spoke first. "You have 5 minutes tops to explain yourself or whatever you wanted to tell me, then it's my turn to talk without interruption no matter what I say." He nodded and began.

"y/n, I am so sorry for what I did. I completely forgot the one day a year to celebrate you and just you. I wasn't actually planning to meet stas that day, I was actually attending a sponsorship meeting for Sam and I. She texted me asking if I had time to go to the bar with her and hang out. After that long and boring meeting I was in need of a stress relief. But this isn't my excuse or my way to push the blame of me. It is my fault for forgetting in that moment about you. I promise you that I love you and only you. Whatever it takes and no matter how long it takes, I will make it up to you. I only want to see you happy. I'm sorry." With that Colby finished what he wanted to say.

I took a breath and began my speech. "Colby I can forgive your forgetfulness but it's gonna take a lot for me to forget it. Right now I just need you to be honest with me, Do you still want to be with me or not? If you have lost the feeling we used to share then we can end it right now, it will hurt a lot less." Colby shook his head. "No! I love you please don't say otherwise." I sighed at his words. "Okay, then you better stick to you words cause I have spiraled for the last 12 hours, I didn't know if I could ever try love again had you really lost love or worse cheated. I have been through that too many times. You are literally my last hope." I felt ears brim and fall from my eyes again. Colby's expression softening more.

He held his arms open and I hesitantly fell into them. He slowly moved to lay us together on the small bed meant for one person. He pet my hair as I cried into his shirt. "I'm so sorry for making you feel this way. I really fucked up. I will make it up to you. I will show you how much I love you, how desperate I am to be with you, all the reasons I love you. I will do this till the day I die. I love you y/n" His words slowly soothed me to sleep. Cuddling with him as we both napped in each others arms.

Masterlist

#sam and colby #colby brock #colby x reader #angst with a happy ending #fluff #one shot

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chrollohearttags · 1 year

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musician eren x black influencer wife imagines p2. (dating phase)

this is still going to be a full series, it’s just taking a while to finish the first chapter! 😭

themes: both sfw and nsfw, phone sex, kinda pervy (ish) eren, back shots, pussy eating, unprotected sex, slight mention of angst, spoiled rotten reader 🤭

from that night on in the club, the two of you were attached at the hip. Always talking in your little bit of free time and following each other (and you’re like one of the only four people he does). He even throws a few comments on your pictures and everybody loses it because he never does that.

all the stan accounts on Twitter swear that y’all are fucking and he does nothing to correct it either. Because he wishes it were true. Even likes some of the tweets just to throw everybody off.

“Shit, if they say it’s true, then I guess it is. I’m not clearing up a damn thing. Let ‘em think what they want.” (he’d never tell you but sometimes, he ‘relieves stress’ by daydreaming about what it would be like.)

would sometimes scroll your feed and when he’d see a video of you on the pole or even twerking in some string bikini, it’d get him all riled up and he’d become frustrated until he couldn’t take it.

eren really hadn’t seen or been intimate with anyone in years so he was a little rusty when it came to communication. He hadn’t had to worry about another person or check in so he’d go hours or even days without responding but when he did, he was happy to talk to you.

“..sorry ‘bout that. Just been working a lot. I missed you though.”

baby boy was committed to you and his music only so you knew he wasn’t capping. You wouldn’t have to worry about his ass cheating..ever! Too much effort and he was infatuated.

you didn’t press him too much because you respected his hustle and he done the same. Having a woman around that was about her bread and none of the bullshit was a sigh of relief. Even though your job was social media, you never engaged the rumors and kept your business private.

the sexual tension between y’all is CRAZY though. It’s even more fun than the act itself. The texts, the teasing..the FaceTime calls! That’s where it gets real nasty. Masturbating for each other when you were alone, telling you all the things he wanted.

“I’m putting it in your guts when I see you..fucking you on sight, for real..”

there were no worries of him taking advantage or using this to label you as a ho. He appreciated that you’d even share such intimate things with him. Things that the rest of the world couldn’t see.

which is why it was all the more fun when the two of you linked up and made those fantasies a reality. You’d come by his studio when you were in town, wearing something tight just so he’d want to rip it off.

“..you wore this just for me? Pretty ass..I love it.” Something about those compliments from him just hit DIFFERENT. 😫 damn the Instagram comments.

he always made your wait well worth it. You’d heard his lyrics so you knew his ass was some pressure..but nothing could prepare you for it. Sometimes you’d only have about 48 hours together and he wanted to spend 24 of them fucking the shit out of you.

tells everybody not to hit his line for a damn thing while you’re here because he has ‘important business to handle.’

from eating your pussy in the front seat of his Wraith after dinner (loves when you grab his hair and puts his face in it)

HE DEFINITELY EATS IT WITH HIS GRILLS IN TOO! The bottom row with gold slugs and diamonds in them!!!!!

to letting his chain hit your face while he’s deep stroking your shit. Loves back shots on the balcony and making you squirt.

was low key scared he’d either come too quick or hurt you but even after all that time, he still had it. You didn’t make it easy though!

talks you through those nuts so good, you’re two seconds from living in his skin. “I know, baby. I know…and you’re doing so good. You taking this dick just like you said.” (and it’s big too bitch like omg! 🥴)

honestly, he had always been a freak but he couldn’t just give that dick to anybody because he’d definitely created a couple of stalkers in his lifetime and it wasn’t fun. You were the person to bring out that side again. Because of it, everyone notices a change in his mood and how much happier he seems.

although you never pressed him about making things official, it never made it easier when you had to leave again and go your separate ways. None of it felt real..he knew he wanted you but he was scared of commitment and screwing it up.

causes a little bit of a rift for a minute and you question if he’s just using you for album inspo or a quick fuck.

but when you’re packing to head to the airport one morning; tears in your eyes and ready to break down, he pulls you to his chest and says what you had been waiting to hear.

“…I don’t want you to go, (y/n). I love you..but we’re both grown and got things we’re chasing. So we’ll do whatever to make this work..promise.”

and he sticks to that..months pass..y’all are going strong and are happier than ever. You spend every second that’s possible together and even learn to take a few extra days for yourselves. Taking trips out of the country to just to stay out of the cut and makes you his top priority.

gifts of every variety from Birkins to jewelry, he cops it for you. Much like everything he does, he perfects it and is the ideal boyfriend.

You’re spoiled rotten, having your way on and offline and even he has to admit it’s cute watching you flex your new things..leaving everyone to speculate who’s sponsoring. But that’s y’all’s little secret. The relationship is wonderful and the best one you’ve ever had.

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kurooo-is-here · 4 months

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Hiiii <3 I love your Kieran stuff! Could I request a terrifyingly powerful Reader (male, female or enby, I don't care) whose a force in battle but a gentle giant outside? Eri-core or Red-core, tbh. I could see then being multi-type specialist for Fairy, Electric and Ice type Pokemon- maybe with someone cutesy or feminine as their partner Pokemon (like Froslass, Bellibolt, Azumarill or Gardevoir?)

Just Kieran really disliking them because he thinks they're narcissistic due to being a force in battle that doesn't really talk to their opponents too often, only to later realize that not they're just gentle. Or not, you can spin it however you like! I just like your writing :3

Yesss we stan a reader who is terrifying in battle >:D I love team-building so I incorporated some of my own team strats into this!

Hope you don't mind the rambling at the beginning, I'm not into competitive Pokemon stuff at all but creating cool strategies is still super fun!!

Kieran x Terrifyingly Strong Reader

You don't limit yourself to just one type of Pokemon. Tinkaton is your ace, but you also use Cetitan, Galarian Slowking, Ceruledge, Gyarados, and Garchomp.

Cetitan is a bulky monster who gets the ability Slush Rush, which doubles its speed in the snow. Galarian Slowking can set up snow with Chilly Reception, at which point Cetitan sweeps.

Ceruledge is solid for coverage and gets powerful Ghost and Fire moves. Gyarados and Garchomp are my two personal favorites for double battles, since Gyarados gets Intimidate and is immune to Garchomp's Earthquake. Not to mention Garchomp + Rough Skin + Rocky Helmet is a mean combination.

Tinkaton is the definition of scary and cute, her hammer is made of the parts of another Pokemon! With Gigaton Hammer and Protect, she sweeps everything in her path.

But back to the actual headcanons, Kieran is intimidated as HECK by you. You easily sweep his team whenever they battle, and your neutral expression the whole time makes it feel like you're mocking him. He's so frustrated that he can't win.

He thinks you're just some stuck-up strong trainer, to be honest. You don't talk much, and when you do, it doesn't come off as friendly or warm. He starts to hate you, at first.

...But then, he sees you caring for one of your Pokemon after they get hurt. Your Gallade damages one of its blades, so you do your best to patch it up before taking it to the Pokemon Center for immediate care. The whole time, you're humming a soft melody to soothe your Pokemon's pain. Kieran watches in shock-- it's nothing like the stone-cold Y/N he's used to. You.. actually care about your Pokemon? And you're so gentle with them too. He's amazed.

Kieran finds excuses to hang out with you after that. One of his Pokemon gets hurt, and he immediately seeks you out for help. The Elite Four is super confused because they thought Kieran hated you, but now he's suddenly... not?

Kieran finds that his heart flutters when he listens to your voice. He can't describe the feeling, but he just feels at ease around you. He realizes soon enough that he's fallen in love with you.

#pokemon #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon kieran #pokemon kieran x reader #heheh i love team building #galarian slowking and cetitan can be swapped for something else but i just really like those two and have wanted to use em for awhile now #ty for the ask!!#kuro writes

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a-fools-circus · 6 months

Text

Salacious Want

Papa II/f!Reader

Desc: after confessing to Secondo how you've spent your time alone, he makes sure you know that the only person allowed to touch you is him Word Count: 6.3k Tags/Warnings: bondage, bdsm, impact play, degredation, edging/orgasm delay/denial, rough sex, vaginal fingering, p in v sex, choking, dom/sub, ownership, creampie, aftercare, bc aftercare is important and i want to showcase that i think Secondo fits the duality of being both a rough dom and a tender loving dom, please note that there is one moment when the reader claims to be overwhelmed, but every moment of sex beforehand and afterwards is consensual with both participants willing

this was originally intended to be a fic for Kinktober. obviously that didn't end up working out, BUT i still wanted to write this bc i liked the idea, and i've yet to give Secondo some love so here it is ! this ended up being very fun to write and way longer than intended so i think it's a win. Secondo stans i'm starting to understand you. enjoy babes <3

also available to read on ao3 here

Minors DNI/NSFW below the cut

It was only a few hours ago when you were sat in the shadowed corner of the confession booth. The only thing separating your figure from Secondo’s was the wooden lattice in the center.

Secondo had been preoccupied with his responsibilities all day. It wasn’t his fault—the workload came with his status as Papa. You didn’t blame him for it, and he was adamant to remind you that he would rather spend his time with you. But you were left on your own. You had to sate your desires—by yourself—in private whenever you had the time. It was boring after the second or third time. Your own touch wasn’t nearly the same as his.

You knew the risks that came with teasing him (most of which would come from him), but the opportunity presented itself perfectly when you realized that he would be hosting confession. You couldn’t help yourself. You had to do something to coerce him, to convince him to focus on you instead. Taunting him with the knowledge that he missed out on your pleasure seemed like the perfect way to rile him up.

Armed with your knowledge, you taunted him from your shadowed corner of the booth, detailing every aspect of your indulgence. Every sound you made, every fantasy that crossed your mind, every part of yourself that you touched—it all came forward in your own kind of confession.

Secondo was good at appearing disinterested. Annoyingly good. You could get on your knees and beg for an hour straight, and he wouldn’t bat an eye. He knew he could make you do whatever he wanted when you were desperate to be touched, and he used it to his advantage often.

But his silence from the other side of the confessional was more than feigned disinterest. You could practically feel the disapproval radiating through the lattice, somehow knowing he was staring with that stern gaze he only gave you. He was most intimidating when he was silent, but it was even more nerve-wracking not to be able to see his reaction.

You made it worse by reminding him of his responsibilities; he had to continue carrying out the rest of confession for the following Siblings. You made your way out, leaving him to stew in his frustration as he was forced to ignore the aching arousal between his legs. That was the nail in the coffin.

Once time granted him respite from his duties, he wasted no time finding you.

Now you were sat on your knees on his bed, bent over with your face in his silken sheets. You were completely bare except for the collar around your neck and the restraints that bound your arms behind your back. You were placed near the edge of the bed, instructed to “keep your ass in the air and stay still.”

You couldn’t see Secondo, but you could sense his steely gaze scanning every inch of your body as he stood behind you. There was no doubt he could see how wet you were; after what felt like hours of sitting here bound, you were getting desperate.

The click of his shoes on the hardwood floor is the only sound in the room. Every echo of the sound makes you throb, your holes clenching around nothing. You’re sure that sight is obvious to him, too. But he says nothing as he looks over your restrained body. The anticipation in the air is thick, heavy on your mind as you wait for him to do or say something—anything.

After what felt like an hour of staring, he finally reached a hand out to brush over your thigh. The cool texture of his leather glove surprises you. Secondo’s touch is featherlight, barely grazing your body as it slowly trails inward. His pace is maddening, and you know he’s doing it on purpose.

The trail of his hand stops when his fingers hover daringly close to the spot he knows you need him most. The space beside you on the mattress sinks as his knee comes to rest there. Secondo leans over you, still barely touching your skin.

“Who does this pussy belong to?” Your senses heighten as the sound of his voice finally caresses your eardrums. You tilt your head just enough to catch a glimpse of him.

He’d discarded his regalia at this point, now wearing only the black turtleneck and dress pants he sported underneath. Just the sight of him made you want to pounce on him and make up for lost time. But you contained your impulses, humoring his demands as the threat of his dominance made you ache.

You swallow hard. The face paint he hadn’t bothered to clean off only made him look more intimidating. “You,” you whisper back to him. “You, Papa.”

“Mm. Bene…” His husky-toned affirmation almost makes you whine. “Then why did you touch it without permission?”

Secondo’s words catch you off guard at first. You start to speak, a tiny squeak leaving your mouth, but the words fail to form. You look away in embarrassment. Your eyes catch on the obvious bulge that strains against the front of his pants.

Suddenly, he grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging firmly until your shoulders rise off of the mattress. Secondo leans in further, his breath warm against your ear. The scent of patchouli and tobacco floods your nostrils. “You will answer when I ask you a question, yes?” He growls, the sound of his voice rumbling in your ears.

You swallow hard, eyes fluttering shut at the pain on your scalp. “Yes, Papa—”

“Look at me.” You do exactly as he says, your body thrumming with desire as your eyes flicker up to meet his. “Why did you touch yourself without Papa’s permission?”

“Because, I…I was desperate, Papa.” Your heart pounds in your chest at your confession. Judging by the way he scoffs, you assume your response isn’t satisfactory.

“Desperate?” Secondo echoes. You nod in agreement. “What, desperate to make yourself cum just so you can tell me what a disobedient, needy whore you are?” The leather of his gloves squeaks as Secondo tightens his grip.

The degrading term sends a surge of arousal through you. The sensation is only heightened by his grip on your hair. “No, no, Papa…I…I just wanted to be touched. I really, really needed it.”

“Oh, is that it, piccolina? You just needed to be touched?” You nod fervently, humming a small “mm-hmm” in reply despite the blatant mockery in his tone. “Perhaps I should remind you how you taunted me, then. The way you told me how hot and wet you were when you fucked yourself? How you came so quickly by your own hand?”

Secondo punctuates his annoyance with another firm tug on your hair. You whine, hissing slightly at the soreness in your neck. “I…I didn’t mean it, Papa,” you manage to choke out. “I just…wanted you to know how much I missed you…How much I need you.”

“It sounds to me that the only thing you ‘need’ is a lesson in restraint, sì?”

A whine rumbles in your throat at his suggestion. You want to fight back, to argue and prove your point, but that would only garner more punishment. You nod in response before realizing your muteness is unsatisfactory. “Yes, Papa.”

Secondo releases your hair and you fall forward, your face planting into the sheets. He rises off of the bed to return to his place behind you. His hands run teasingly over your body with gentle brushes that give you goosebumps. A shiver runs down your spine as his hands move further down.

You barely feel two of his fingers glide through your slit, your wet arousal gathering on his digits. You don’t know when he removed his glove, but you relish in the warmth of his bare hand instead of the cool leather. Your hips roll towards his touch in an attempt to gain any of the friction he seems to deny you. Your wrists twist in their restraints. His fingers spread you open to reveal your entrance.

“Look how wet you are,” he taunts. The leash attached to your collar rustles before being pulled taut. Your head jerks back, your shoulders lifting off of the bed as your back arches. You can feel Secondo’s cock—hard and straining against his pants—as he presses against you. “Open.” You hear him growl.

The demand sends a wave of heat through you. You comply, but you’re barely able to part your lips before his hand moves away from your cunt and his fingers force their way down your throat. You fight off the urge to choke in order to remain obediently willing.

“You wished to show me how much you needed me, sì?” You nod, humming around his fingers. “Show me, then. Take my hand like you would take my cock.”

You eagerly heed Secondo’s words. Your mouth sucks and licks his fingers with enthusiasm, savoring the taste of your own arousal as it coats your tongue. You ignore the way your body aches from the awkward position he’s contorted you in. Saliva seeps from your lips and dribbles down your chin, escaping you as you swirl your tongue around his digits the same way you do with his cock.

“Greedy little mouth…” Secondo growls as he watches you intently. His hand stays firmly enveloped in your mouth as he presses his body against yours. You groan around his fingers when you feel his cock press against your ass. “Look at you, drooling all over yourself, pretending my cock is down your throat. You look so desperate.”

You shift on the bed, trying to clench your legs together in a desperate attempt for friction at the sound of his degrading tone. Secondo notices immediately. His hand slides out of your mouth, not caring that strands of saliva spill from your wet lips, and delivers a harsh smack to the swell of your ass. The sound echoes in the room. The sudden sting makes you cry out, your eyes widening in surprise.

A firm tug on the leash makes you choke momentarily. “Keep your legs spread,” Secondo growls, his hand reaching down to tug at your thigh and force your legs apart while the other pulls the leash taut. “If you can’t be good, you aren’t getting touched.”

Your hands tug at their restraints, fists clenching with frustration. “I’m…I’m sorry, Papa. I’ll be good, I promise. Please touch me, please.” Your words come out in a flurry, rushed and desperate, as you pant for breath.

Secondo’s hand releases the leash, allowing you to fall forward again. His hand immediately snakes around your waist to land on the space between your thighs. Saliva-wettened fingers land on your clit and swirl in agonizingly slow circles. Your breath catches in your throat, a shaky gasp leaving your lips. Your hips jerk into his hand as a silent encouragement.

Another sudden spank takes your breath away. His hand stops its movements and you whine. “Stay still. You’ll only take what I give you, sì?”

You nod, sighing dejectedly. “Yes, Papa.”

It takes all of your strength to keep your hips in place and resist the urge to grind into his hand when he continues to swirl his fingers. Your thighs tense and your mouth falls open with whimpers and moans.

Secondo barely increases his pace at the sound of your pleasure. Your hands ball into fists in their restraints, a low groan ripping from your throat. You curse, desperately using every ounce of control to keep your hips still.

“Mia piccola puttana…she can be good when she wants to be, hmm?” He tilts his head, watching your pleasure-contorted features. His hand speeds up slightly and you gasp.

“Yes…Papa…Fuck…”

“She likes it, doesn’t she?”

“Yes…Yes, Papa, I like it…” Warmth pools in your abdomen, winding tighter with each swirl of his fingers. Your thighs begin to shake as you lose the battle of staying still. Your hips thrust desperately forward, eager to hit the orgasm that lingers so close to fruition. “Please, Papa. It feels so good…fuck..!”

Secondo pulls his hand away mere seconds before the warmth spills over. You cry out, a high-pitched whine ripping from your throat as your orgasm slowly dissipates. Your hips buck forward as if trying to chase his touch.

“Why did you—?”

“You don’t deserve to cum yet.” His voice is stern, leaving no room for argument no matter how badly you want to. “Poverina…you did not think I would give you what you want that easily, did you?” Your lips part to respond, but the words get caught in your throat. “Such a greedy whore…you made yourself cum and you think you deserve it by my hand?”

“I’m…I’m sorry, Papa. I won’t do it again, I promise.” You whine, grinding your ass against him in a silent plea. The roll of your hips is slow as you feel the outline of his rigid length through his pants.

Another harsh slap comes down on the swell of your ass. You gasp, the sting coursing through you and halting your movements. “Now you think you deserve my cock?” Secondo’s grip digs into the skin of your hips as he accuses you, his grasp so tight you can almost feel the bruises begin to form.

“No, no, Papa. I don’t.”

“No, you don’t.” He taunts. His hand massages the red handprint blooming on your ass, soothing the lingering sting. “Are you going to start being good for Papa?”

“Yes! Yes, I’ll be good. I promise I’ll be good.”

“Bene…” He gropes your ass, the tight grip making the welts forming on your skin sting. “Now be a good girl and ask for it. Nicely.”

“Please, Papa…I want you to touch me. Please touch me.”

Secondo scoffs at your plea. “Now I know you can beg better than that.”

A whine builds in your throat, but you swallow hard to contain it. “Please, please, please, Papa. Please touch me. I need it so fucking bad.” You pant. “I need you. I need your touch. Please.”

Without warning, two fingers push past your entrance and stretch you open. You gasp at the sensation, cursing as Secondo pumps his fingers at an unrelenting pace that gives you no time to adjust or savor the feeling. Your nails dig into your palms as you whine at each thrust of his hand.

“Fuck! Yes, yes…” You cry out, your cunt throbbing around his fingers. “Thank you, Papa. Fuck me…”

Secondo’s other hand holds you in place, gripping your hip so tight you think it’ll leave bruises. His fingers curl, searching for that sweet spot that’ll leave you crying out. As soon as he hits it, you curse in a loud gasp, your back arching to push your hips into his touch. He massages the spot with each pump of his hand, sending waves of pleasure through you that make your toes curl.

“Fuck, Papa! Yes, yes, yes. Right there. Right there.” Your moans fill the room, your cries reverberating off the ornate walls. Each plea is louder than the last. Your arms tug at their restraints, your hands flexing, desperate to hold on to something, anything.

Secondo groans, his voice husky. “Desperate whore, all worked up by my hand. You love it, don’t you?” You nod and mutter a small “mm-hmm”, too overwhelmed with his pace to form a proper response. “Fottuta troia,” he growls, taking a fistful of your hair and tugging until your shoulders lift off the bed. He leans over you, his fingers still pumping with their unwaveringly strong pace. “You answer your Papa, sì?”

You wince, whining at the mixture of pain and pleasure that courses through you. “Yes, Papa. I…fuck—I’m sorry, Papa,” you manage to squeak out between moans.

“Tell me how much you like it. Tell me how good my hand feels.”

“It feels…so fucking good, Papa,” you whine. Your words aren’t enough, evident by the way he tugs on your hair again for encouragement. His lack of response has you on edge. “You fuck me so good. I-I love the way your hand feels in my pussy.”

The tight grip on your hair is unrelenting. The awkward position you’re held in makes your back sore, but the pleasure granted to you overrides any discomfort. Warmth builds in your abdomen yet again, swirling and coiling with the need for release. Your thighs tense, your walls tightening around his fingers as your pants grow quick and loud.

“Oh, fuck…I’m…P-please…” Your voice quivers as you beg. “Please, Papa, can I cum this time?”

Secondo nuzzles against your neck, his breath warm against your ear as he speaks. “Oh, dolcezza,” his words seem sweet, but you recognize the mocking in his tone. “Asking like that, you almost have me convinced.” His fingers pull out of you, a wet, squelching noise accompanying their retreat. “Almost.”

The whine that escapes you is even louder, even more desperate than before. “No, Papa…why did you…” You stammer and whine, unable to form a complete sentence. You almost feel like you could cry as the coil of warmth slowly dissipates. He releases your hair, a grunt escaping you as you fall forward onto the mattress and he moves away. “Please touch me again, I can’t…I need to cum.” Your hips roll in the air, desperate for some form of contact.

“You need it?” You hear him echo, almost as if he’s mocking your plea.

You nod your head and hum a small “mm-hmm” with a whine. “Yes, Papa, I need it. I need to cum so fucking bad.” You shiver when you feel his fingertips reconnect with your heat for just a moment, barely grazing over your folds. “Please, just keep fucking me. I was so close, I—”

Secondo cuts you off with a harsh spank, the sound echoing in the room. His hands hold tightly onto your hips, dragging you backward until your ass is flush against his body. And his achingly hard cock that strains behind his pants.

“Greedy whore thinks she deserves to cum already…” He mutters as his hands trace the swell of your ass.

“No…no, Papa, I didn’t mean that…” You pant, your breath heavy. “I just…fuck, I want it so bad. Please…”

He goes silent as his hands continue to trace gently over your skin. The silence heightens both your nerves and your desperation. Finally, his gruff voice breaks the silence. “Tell me again, cara: who does this pussy belong to?”

“You, Papa.”

“Bene.” He presses his body more firmly against you. A quiet whimper escapes your lips at the feeling of his cock so close yet trapped beneath layers. “This pussy is mine. Mine to use and fuck whenever I feel like it.”

“Yes, Papa.”

“Say it.”

“My…my pussy is yours, Papa. Yours to use, yours to fuck.” You swear you feel his cock throb behind his pants.

His torso presses against your restrained wrists as Secondo leans over you. If you weren’t so afraid of being punished and denied any longer, you’d grab ahold of his shirt and tug him closer. His hands move to your hips, where his nails dig into your skin. “You cum when I tell you to. When I decide you deserve it.” His voice is a sultry whisper, like a smooth velvet that wraps around your senses. It makes you want to forget about your own desires.

You nod, sighing at his words. “Yes, Papa.”

“If you pull another stunt like that—taunting me with your impatience—I’ll tie you up and make sure you don’t cum for hours. Do you understand?”

The thought makes you shiver in a mixture of arousal and fear. You swallow hard, nodding your head again. “Y-yes Papa…”

“Are you going to be good for Papa?” His hips roll against you, and while the friction isn’t stimulating for you, it makes you gasp nonetheless.

“Yes,” you choke out. “Yes, Papa. I’ll be good. I promise.”

“No more touching yourself without Papa’s permission, sì?”

“Yes, Papa.”

His hands squeeze your hips, but the gesture is more playful than painful. “Molto bene.”

Secondo ruts against you, dragging the bulge in his pants along the curve of your ass. He groans before moving to grind against your slick heat. The wetness of your arousal seeps through and stains the fabric of his pants. He couldn’t care less.

One of his hands slides up the arch of your back, avoiding your restrained wrists and caressing your spine. “You want Papa’s cock, sì?”

“Yes. Yes…please, Papa,” you whine breathlessly.

His other hand trails down your hip and over the swell of your ass before groping you firmly. His grasp is rough, making the welts that have formed from his spanks sting. “Beg for it, puttana.”

You sigh in frustration at his words. “Please, Papa. Please put your cock in me.” You fight with every ounce of restraint to keep your hips still. You want nothing more than to rub and bounce your ass against him, to hear him groan and curse at the friction. But you know doing so would earn you another punishment. “I want it—I need it—so fucking bad. Please, please.”

Secondo leans away from your body. The loss of his touch leaves you feeling exposed and vulnerable, yearning harder for him. “She needs it, she says…” You hear him mock you as the faint sound of a zipper catches your attention.

You groan at the familiar feeling of his cock as the rigid and warm flesh lands on your ass. Secondo wraps one hand around the base, his other hand gripping your hip as he guides his cock to the space between your legs. He barely brushes against you, only allowing enough contact to cover himself in your slick arousal. The light friction makes you whine.

It’s not until you feel the head of his cock rub against your swollen, neglected clit that you stop whining and start panting. It’s even harder to stay still, especially when his pace is so languidly slow.

Your toes curl with strain. “Papa, please…I can’t…I can’t wait anymore…”

Another harsh spank comes down on your ass, making you hiss. “You can, and you will.” He growls. “Be good.” He continues the light and gentle grinding, his hands moving to rest on your ass and spread you open for his viewing pleasure. “Sathanas,” he curses, the sound making you throb and clench around nothing, which he certainly notices. “Così bagnato per me...you are a desperate little whore, aren’t you?”

“Yes, fuck yes, Papa.” Your nails dig into your palms as your body tenses in anticipation. “Please give it to me.”

He slides his cock along your folds, moving back and forth in long, sensual strokes. He pulls back to guide the head of his cock to sit at your entrance and grazes it teasingly, never pushing forward with enough force to enter you. You know he’s savoring the way you whimper and squirm. You groan, the sound turning into a whine.

“Please, Papa…” Your voice is breathless at this point, so desperate you could cry. “Please, please, I can’t wait anym—Ah!”

You’re cut off by his sudden, forceful thrust forward as he buries himself inside you with one movement. The stretch of your walls stings, making you hiss and curse. Your wrists tug at their restraints and your thighs go tense as he immediately starts a rough and unrelenting pace, giving you no time to acclimate to his intrusion.

Each thrust is met with one of your loud and desperate moans. Secondo runs his hands over the curve of your hips, his thumbs rubbing gently over your skin in a manner that completely opposes his rough movements. He groans, the sound sending heat to your core, and you feel him lean over your body.

The leash suddenly goes taut. Your head is lifted off of the mattress, strangling your moans as they leave your mouth. “This is what you wanted, sì?” He growls into your ear, punctuating his question with a set of firm thrusts. “To be fucked hard and rough like the whore you are?”

“Yes! Fuck…fuck, yes…” You cry out, voice strained against the collar around your throat. “Thank you, Papa, thank you…Lucifer below, it feels…so good…”

He leans back and pulls the leash with him. His free hand holds your hip tight, his grip strong enough to make you ache. He groans, cursing something in Italian under his breath, before spanking you again. Your walls flutter around him at the pain. “Dillo di nuovo. Tell Papa how good his cock feels.” His voice is low and rough, practically a growl, as he pounds into you.

“Your cock feels so fucking good, Papa…” Your eyes flutter shut as your head becomes light. Your moans and whines are guttural, choked out by your collar. “I love it…I love the way you fuck me…Don’t stop, Papa.”

“Oh, I don’t plan on it, puttana.” Secondo punctuates the word with a particularly rough thrust, making you cry out with a strangled moan. “You’re going to cum for me—when I tell you to.”

The room fills with sounds of your pleasure; moans and cries leaving your lips and the repeated, quick slapping of skin against skin. His own groans hit your ears and excite you further. He pounds into you with a relentless rhythm, quick and hard thrusts that make your body tremble under him.

“Papa…I’m gonna—fuck…” You feel your thighs shake, unsteady as the warmth in your abdomen tightens.

“Not yet.” He snaps back. He tugs on the leash again, making your head lighter as air escapes your lungs. “Solo un’altro po…”

It’s almost impossible to hold on any longer. The heat that swirls in your abdomen coils tighter and tighter with each thrust, the impending release crescendoing with no sign of stopping. All you can choke out is a quiet, strained “please” in between his powerful thrusts.

Secondo groans at your tight and wet heat, the sound turning into a slight chuckle that reverberates in your ear as he leans in. “Poverina…you need it, don’t you?” His voice is light and sweet despite the mockery in his tone. You nod before muttering a small “yes, Papa” in return. “Cum for me, tesoro. Cum on Papa’s cock.” He growls in your ear, his pace never wavering.

It takes only a few more of his rough thrusts to send you over the edge. The sound that leaves you is one you didn’t know you could make: a loud and guttural moan built up from constant denial that spills involuntarily from your lips. Your entire body tenses and trembles underneath him as waves of pleasure make you throb and clench around him. His pace never changes, working you through the high until your muscles go lax.

His thrusts slow down until they become slow rolls of his hips against your weak body. He releases the leash, letting your head fall against the mattress with a soft thud. His hands trail over your breasts as he leans to place a small, gentle kiss on your back between your shoulder blades.

“I’ve never heard you make those pretty sounds before.” He mutters against your skin. His hands knead your chest as he continues to roll his hips against you languidly.

A weak smile forms on your face. “I…I told you I was desperate,” you pant between heavy breaths. You groan with each of his thrusts, the leisurely pace doing nothing to soothe the overstimulation. “Thank you, Papa. Thank you for—ah—letting me cum…”

His hands trail down your body, his touch tracing your curves before returning to your hips as he leans back. “Oh, I’m not done with you yet, dolcezza.”

You barely process his words before he pounds into you again. He wastes no time finding another intense and rough rhythm. Your body tenses as the overstimulation makes you whine, your hands balling into fists as they tug at their restraints. You cry out, your body shaking under the power of his thrusts.

“Fuck, Papa! Shit, shit, shit…”

Secondo’s deep groans fill the air, complimented by the wet sounds of sex. “Merda. I didn’t think you could get any tighter.” One of his hands lands on the small of your back, purposefully avoiding your bound wrists.

Every thrust sends a shock wave of pleasure through you, surges of overstimulating ecstasy that course through every inch of your body. It’s an overwhelming sensation, making every muscle tense and every moan and whimper more desperate than the last. Your noises only spur him on, each pathetic sound met with a powerful thrust that makes you whine louder.

“Papa…fuck, I can’t…it’s too much…” Your knuckles turn white as you ball your hands into fists. The overstimulation hurts, but the pain only adds to the pleasure he gives you. You trust him enough to know he’d drop everything if you were genuinely hurt. But right now, he knew you had no interest in stopping.

The leash suddenly goes taut, your head lifting off of the mattress again at his sudden tug. He spanks you again, your cry strangled by his sharp tug on the leash. “Fucking take it,” you hear him growl. Another spank makes you whine. “You’ll take my cock until I’m done with you, puttana.”

You groan at his words, your back arching into his thrusts. “Y-yes, P-Papa…”

His thrusts turn sharp and quick as he ruts against you. It’s primal and needy—almost animalistic—the way he moves. Each slap of his hips against your ass makes you hiss, the welts left from his hand stinging at every movement. Your body remains tense, every drag of his cock along your walls causing you to clench around him.

“Così fottutamente buono...questa figa è perfetta, tesoro…” You can barely hear his low, husky voice over the sound of skin meeting skin. Secondo tugs again on the leash, making you groan as your head jerks back. He leans down until his breath hits your ear. “You’re going to cum again for me, dolcezza.” His tone is clear—his words are a command, not a suggestion. “I want to feel this pussy milk my cock.”

The vulgarity in his words makes you whine. “Yeah…yes, Papa—fuck, I wanna milk your cock dry.”

“Sì, that’s what you want, giusto? You want Papa to cum in you and fill you up?” He growls in your ear, his words sending a shiver down your spine.

“Fuck, yes. Yes, Papa, I want your cum…Please, pump me full.” You strain to speak against the tight collar, but your plea is loud and desperate.

You can hear his breathing growing heavier. You can tell he’s getting close. He shoves his cock as deep as he can as his thrusts turn into forceful rolls of his hips as he grinds against you. The friction makes the marks on your ass sting.

Secondo’s free hand snakes around the curve of your hips, wasting no time finding your swollen and aching clit. His fingers swirl in time with each movement of his hips. The rhythmic pace between his deep penetration and the delicious friction of his hand makes you writhe under him.

You curse, your hips jerking wildly into his hand and against his hips, too overstimulated to find a rhythm. “Papa…Papa..!” You cry out and whine as your eyes screw shut.

He knows exactly how to make you tremble, all of the movements that send you closer to the edge and make you melt under his touch. The repeated clenching of your cunt makes him groan and curse.

“Fuck, Papa! I’m gonna…Sathanas, I’m gonna cum again, shit…” You feel your thighs shake and tremble, every muscle in your body tensed as the heat in your abdomen returns, mounting to a high.

Secondo pants, tugging on the leash again. “Dai, dai…cum for me, cum for Papa.”

The dual pleasure leaves you unable to resist, the sensations overwhelming your body. Your second orgasm is even more intense than the last. Your body shakes and your moans turn into whines as the pleasure leaves you overwhelmed. You don’t even notice the few tears that escape as you writhe and tremble. He works you through the high, his hand swirling perfectly against your sensitive core to prolong your pleasure for as long as possible. He only removes his hand once your whines turn to hisses.

The continuous, rough movements enacted on your overwhelmed body borders on pain. But you know he’s close, evident by his heavy breathing and groans as he pounds into you with the last of his strength. His grip is tight on your hip as the other hand holds your leash taut to keep your body in place.

With one final powerful thrust, Secondo stills as he spills himself into you. You feel every kick and pulse of his cock as he fills you. He groans, growling something in Italian, but you’re too far gone to comprehend it. He releases his grip on the leash, allowing your head to fall to the mattress.

Your body goes lax as he pulls out of you. Both of you grunt at the sensation. A wet squelch fills the air as you whine at the emptiness, too accustomed to his presence despite how overwhelming it feels. Your hips fall flat on the bed as you pant for breath and groan at the soreness in your back.

A wave of relief courses through you as your wrists are released from their restraints. The ache in your shoulders is painfully evident now that you can move freely. You roll onto your side, blinking heavily as you look up to see Secondo’s face.

His paint is smeared in various places, streaked by beads of sweat. His chest heaves with his own heavy breaths. You get the urge to scold him for exerting himself at his age.

He leans over you, reaching down to unfasten the collar around your neck. You instinctively tilt your head to make the process easier. You sigh when the garment is removed, allowing your skin to breathe and give your neck a break. Your eyes are heavy as you watch him place the collar and restraints on the nightstand with care.

Secondo leans down again, running a hand through your hair. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Un momento, bella,” he mutters against your skin before leaning away.

You watch as he walks in the direction of the adjoining bathroom before he disappears past the doorway. A small smile graces your face. It was easy to get intimidated by him, by his steely gaze and guarded demeanor, but he showed you a tenderness that no one else could match.

It was never as evident as it is in these moments. When he walks back into the room with a damp washcloth in his hand, your heart swells. He always takes the time to treat you so gently after sex, especially when it’s rough.

He cleans you carefully, running the washcloth over your flushed skin. He moves you with a sense of care and worship, like you’ll shatter beneath his touch if he isn’t careful. The warmth of the wet fabric is soothing, making you sigh with each stroke. He occasionally leans down to place kisses along your skin.

Once you’re clean, he lays the cloth on the nightstand. You know he’ll retrieve it later, probably after you’ve drifted off to sleep. He guides you to lay against the pillows, helping you move in your sore state. You groan at the aching pain in your body—the sting of your ass, the soreness in your shoulders, the aching of your back. He runs a hand over your thigh, fingers barely grazing your skin as his touch trails over the swell of your ass.

“You’re still red,” Secondo remarks. You feel the slight tingle of discomfort, your skin warm from the welts that have formed. “You must still be sore.”

You can hear the concern in voice, almost as if he regrets what he did. “It’s alright. It doesn’t hurt that bad. I’ll be okay.”

“You’re sure?”

You smile at him, at his worry. “Yes, I’m sure.” You extend an arm towards him, beckoning him closer with your hand. “Now come here. I want you to lay with me.”

“Oh, is that right?” He teases. Despite his sarcastic tone, he’s already kicking off his shoes. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes. It is. You need your rest too, old man.”

You hear him scoff before he climbs onto the bed and situates himself beside you. “‘Old man’, huh?” He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close until your back is flush against his chest. He’s careful to keep distance between your hips so as not to irritate your welted skin. “Stai attento, mia cara. You wouldn’t want another punishment so soon, would you,”

You giggle at his words, laying your hand atop his arm and pulling him closer. You groan as you settle against the bed, attempting to allow your aching body to relax. You feel his arm move away from your waist. His hand comes to rest on your shoulder, his thumb massaging firm circles into your sore muscles. The gesture makes you smile, your head turning back to look at him.

“You don’t have to do that, Papa.”

“Oh, of course I do,” he responds, his hand working towards your shoulder blades. His lips brush over your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “Mia piccola bellezza was so good for her Papa. She deserves to be taken care of.” His lips land on your neck, trailing kisses down to your shoulder. “You’re always so good for Papa,” he mutters between kisses.

He leans in to kiss you, and you turn to meet his movement. The gesture sends sparks through you. You smile against his lips, pressing into his kiss and relishing in the warmth that blooms in your chest.

You don’t know when you fell asleep after that. You laid there, allowing him to tend and care for you however he felt necessary. Not every touch was meant to massage or tend to your sore muscles, but you didn’t care. Just having his hands on your body was enough.

This was how he showed his love to you, and you found nothing but comfort and security in his arms.

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