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screamingcrows · 19 days

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Note: This was supposed to be a 50 word shitpost, I hate myself. Born from a mixture of being exposed to too much Dr. Ratio art tonight and being a massive coward. Not proofread because this is my 20th hour awake.

Warnings/tags: suggestive, student/teacher, miscommunication, comfort, age gap (reader is university student and Ratio is probably 35 is my bet?)

Minors, ageless, blank blogs will be blocked DNI

Thinking about attending one of Dr. Ratio's classes, and you're a little confused but you've got the spirit. Ultimately, due to a bunch of external turmoil in your life, you end up getting a poor result on a test, prompting him to call you over after class.

With shaky hands, you head up to the podium as your classmates file out, taking the white noise with them and leaving you alone to face his disappointment. It didn't help how badly you'd like to perform well, impress him, hear him praise you.

With your hands rubbing your eyes, an apology had already begun taking shape on you tongue, it never made it past your lips.

"It's come to my attention that you've been struggling with the latest addition to our curriculum, and seeing as you-"

"I really tried, okay? It just- I haven't had enough time and everything went to shit and and-" you can barely get the words out, heart lurching at how much it hurt, wanting nothing more than plead with him to let you stay.

Tears stung in the corners of your eyes, vision blurry already. Probably for the better so you wouldn't risk looking up and seeing his disappointment. You kept your gaze down even as he cleared his throat barely able to focus on the sound. He continued in a strangely gentle tone, it felt almost out of place.

"As I was saying; seeing as you generally perform above average, it stood to reason that something had impeded your studies. If it could interest you, you are welcome to come by my office to brush up."

And that's how you found yourself anxiously pacing back and forth in the hallway a couple of days later. Your attire left little to the imagination, wanting to make sure he didn't regret giving you a chance. After all, his words had been oozing with subtext, right?

His reaction left something to be desired, merely coughing into his hand before turning his head away, beckoning you inside. It was a tense affair, sitting across from him and trying to keep still as he began lecturing. At some point he slid a sheet of questions across the desk for you, observing as you tried to solve them and gently nudging you to the correct methods.

"Doctor? I thought we were, you know, that you'd raise my grade if I uhm..." your voice faltered, seeing him pointedly look away only made your confusion more apparent.

"There was never a promise of raising your grade, this was meant as an offer if you were interested. And as for what you were trying to accomplish with that," he gestured towards you, voice sounding a little strained, "it goes against not only the regulations at this insitution, but most certainly also my own moral compass."

A beat of silence turned into two as shame spread in your body. Of course he hadn't meant it like that. And how did you come up with the idea that he'd offered to raise your grade? This was awful. Maybe dropping his class would be for the better.

"With that being said, I am willing to overlook this little incident if you truly wish to understand. Leaving now won't reflect poorly on your final grades."

It took a couple of minutes of contemplation, but you decided to stay, gratefully accepting the cardigan he slid off his shoulders and handed you, pulling it around your body. He'd looked pleased when you accepted the proposition, a pleasant smile passing over his face before he went back to making sure you not only knew, but understood every part of the theories.

You'd been so relieved when you'd finished, a spring to your step as you waved and left, confirming you'd like to continue next week if he had time. He'd been so pleased by your smile that he couldn't bring himself to ask for his garment back, you'd realise in time and bring it back.

As soon as the door was closed, he was able to stand up from his desk, smile vanishing as his hands gripped the wood tightly, barely able to stifle a groan. He did feel bad for the hardness pressing against his pants, but not enough that the thought of relieving himself didn't cross his mind. It would be a long semester.

#do not perceive me or my ratio im scared to death of doing him wrong #dr ratio x reader #veritas ratio x reader #student/teacher #cw power imbalance #cw age gap #suggestive #hsr x reader #cw student/teacher #dr ratio x you #crow with a pen #dr ratio

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sourpeachsayshi · 1 month

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therapist!nanami who knows that he can lose his job, his practice, his reputation. that he's putting everything on the line by doing this with you but he's so drunk on lust he doesn't even fucking care if it means he can be on his knees eating you out at his pleasure and leisure <3

#this au is doing things to me!!#it's not okay!#[whispers.༉‧₊˚🕯️ ]#nanami x reader #cw power imbalance

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sebsxphia · 1 year

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so we know that preacher!rhett and little lamb left town, but i just know that he couldn’t say no to her doe eyes when she told him she needed to grab her stuffies before they left town

￫ a/n: a short drabble for the ‘ptolemaea. | the verses.’ universe.

￫ c/w: religious themes, one mention of sub-space.

you packed up your bag and left town quicker than you could physically register what was happening. you grabbed what you needed and ran out as fast as your legs could carry you. thirty minutes into the drive and you needed something to clutch at, feeling your eyes drooping from exhaustion, the events of the day taking ahold of you.

you un-zipped your bag and reached in to pull out the only stuffed animal you could take with you. a little, white and fluffy lamb. rhett’s eyes averted to you and he practically felt his heart give in at the sweet sight.

“who’s that?” he said, with amusement in his voice.

“my, little lamb.” you replied with a soft smile, mirroring rhett’s own.

he reached over and gave your knee a light squeeze. “they’re sweet, lamb. jus’ like you. get some sleep, alright? we’ll be comin’ up to the motel in a couple hours.”

you nodded and reached for rhett’s hand on your knee, bringing it up to your lips and placing a kiss on the back of his hand.

your little lamb became something rhett could provide you with for comfort when he wasn’t there. when he was out getting fuel or food, he would leave you tucked up in bed with the lamb clutched to your chest as you watched television. or, he would hand them to you as you were deep in the throws of sub-space to soothe your mind, adorning you in kisses and sweet praises.

you needed both your little lamb and your preacher.

#💌you’ve got mail #rhett abbott #preacher!rhett abbott #cw power imbalance #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott x female reader #rhett abbott x f!reader #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott drabble #rhett abbott series #rhett abbott fluff #outer range #lewis pullman

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animeomegas · 19 days

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I haven’t been able to stop thinking about neji x alpha x itachi since it was mentioned on here. Personal fantasy of mine. I was thinking of how a relationship like that would happen and one of my ideas was that Itachi and Neji fall in love first. In non-massacre AU, since Itachi rises to Jonin so fast, he’d be able to lead his own team of genin if he wanted. I think Itachi and Neji would meet that way and they would have a dynamic like Itachi and Kakashi. They could relate to each other a lot and Neji would be an easy pupil or student to mentor since he’s a prodigy like Itachi. Itachi seems to have a patient nature, and from dealing with Sasuke, he would cope with at times standoffish personalities. Neji seeing that Itachi is capable, can let his guard down around him. And they are both gorgeous! Like how could they not fall in love. Also, an omega couple have the chance for so much angst. Maybe Itachi’s engaged, they both want kids, they don’t want to hold each other back.

I like to think of alpha being the voice of reason. Itachi and Neji are so in sync, they understand each other, but also make the same toxic decisions. Alpha is a bit more progressive. Encouraging them to get together and helps with their traditional families.

It's definitely an interesting take for Neji and Itachi to get together first, I hadn't thought about that possibility, but your idea for how makes me a bit uncomfortable, ngl. Their age gap is about 4ish years, which would make Itachi 16 and the jounin son of a clan head of one of Konoha's founding clans, and Neji 12, newly minted genin essentially enslaved by his clan.

That's not even mentioning that Itachi would be Neji's teacher, and I think genin teacher is wayyyy different to ANBU squad leader personally.

So age and power-wise, I don't think this is a good idea.

You have some interesting ideas about their dynamic, but I can't get over that start, sorry.

#cw age gap #cw power imbalance #asks #a/b/o #omegaverse

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dead-dove-orchid · 1 year

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Hey guys I made a freenoodles fic ❤️💖

+ version without words

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problema-fic-prompts · 4 months

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Character A is a musical prodigy despite only being a teenager, and has an amazing career ahead of them. Even if their family had impossibly high standards and has been cruel to them.

Character B is a music tutor who’s taken an interest in A that turns into obsession.

As B helps them further their career, they groom A to be their lover and stay by their side. Forcing them away from their toxic family. I like thinking about this set in like a Victorian setting but I think any time period works great

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bradshawsbitch · 1 year

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I was wondering what the halo effect fic was that the anons are talking about? It seems super interesting 😘

halo effect is a 18+ bradley smut fic I wrote during one of my musings regarding power imbalance and abusing the power a person in a higher position than you automatically possesses, and how a halo effect can sometimes lead to uhhhh morally wrong smut? it's a bit heavy, and I definitely recommend reading the warnings carefully and considering if the fic is something you feel like interacting with 🥰🫶

#thanks for asking!#halo effect asks #alex answers #cw power imbalance #cw dark content

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mothaqie · 2 years

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Alright! Imagine the rich CEO/Boss & their secretary power dynamic but in reverse. The boss dropping on their knees whenever it's just them and their secretary after tough meetings. Being so desperate to let go of their power so they hide under their desk,naked,giving their secretary head and humping their shoe because they just need it so so bad,they can't help it,they just want somebody else to call the shots once in a while.

[DO NOT ADD CAPTIONS TO MY POSTS. MINORS & TERFS DNI]

#cw degradation #cw power imbalance #cw pet play??#mothyca rambles

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lovelaetter · 10 months

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I'LL MAKE YOU CRY — a 2k celebration work.

here are two things about you: one, you always had a weakness for pretty girls, and two, you've never been good at dealing with not getting the things you want.

word count: 3.7k

pairing: sub!idol!ningning x dom!idol!reader.

warnings: abuse of power, age difference (reader is a 2nd gen idol, in her 30s), noncon turned dubcon, semi-public sex, reader is a manipulative mean bitch with mommy dom vibes and is proud of it, ningning is just a confused, stupid baby and her brain goes fuzzy around older women, excess of en-dashes and italics because that’s how your fav author here is.

a/n: i need to stop mentioning a fic and then writing something completely different... anyways, this idea came to me after @wintersera sent me an ask (which i hope you don’t mind me writing this instead of answering, love), let’s say something clicked inside my head instantly. also, this was supposed to be way more noncon-ish but i wasn’t satisfied to how it was going. go to end of the work for more notes!

Bo-Ah caught you looking at Seulgi for too long one day and made sure to pinpoint how your weakness for pretty girls would get you in trouble, not exactly in those words but it was what she meant and neither as a scold but in a friend-ly, you will get in trouble and i won’t help you with it because i warned you enough way. It didn’t mean anything to you at the time as you met someone else and Seulgi no longer occupied space in your mind but now you see how that didn’t make her less right.

As hard as it is to believe, you didn’t drag Ningning to your dressing room with sex in mind. Sure, as the new object of your affection you had thought of it with her before, but your intentions today were genuine and nice, truly.

A break during the end of the year performance rehearsals and recordings, leading her through the SM’s building corridors, sitting down together in your room. An offer— you see, I’m working on my next album and there’s this song that I really want to include but it feels like it’s missing something, realization dawning in her face, and I’ve been thinking about this for a few weeks now, i’ve talked to the producers, they think it’s a good idea, that our voices fit… I could’ve asked someone else to talk to you obviously but I thought a more personal approach would be nicer. So, what do you think? Would you like to collaborate with— and a lovely reception, an eagerness to accept like you’ve never seen before, cutting you off— yes!, looking down in embarrassment right away but not holding back the biggest smile, I mean, of course, it would be an honor.

So no, you didn’t had sex in mind and yet, being alone with her, you allowed your mind to wander.

“You are a really pretty girl,” you say after a few minutes in silence just staring at her.

“Thank you,” she says, so low you barely hear it and flinches when you suddenly slide closer to her from your spot, elbow on the back of the couch, trapping her in place.

It happens too fast and in the end, Bo-Ah surely wasn’t wrong. Your hand rests on her knee for a moment, sliding up, up slowly, taking hold of her thigh — you’re looking for putting yourself in trouble at this point. Ningning follows your touch up her leg with her gaze, watches your hand for a moment before looking back at you, promptly parting her lips to speak.

Maybe it was the wide eyes, shining for you with a glimpse of fear and confusion or the so pretty, plump lips that she insisted on running her pink tongue over or the blush painting her cheeks or— maybe it was everything and the months of watching her from afar, fantasizing about her, it’s not the point, all it matters is that before she can say anything you lurch forward, lips crashing onto hers. Takes a moment for her to react, frozen, and when she does it’s what the part of you with a good sense of morality expects, using all in her to push you away.

Closes her legs so hard your wrist hurts, fists against your chest while squirming and whines and stops and what are you doings are falling from her mouth. Impatience creeps up your spine and you snap yanking your hand from between her thighs, taking one of her wrists in hand roughly, snorting, so close to her face your breaths mix. She tries to break free for a moment more, chest up and down fast while staring at your not-so-happy face.

Tilting your head to the side and arching an eyebrow like who asks you’re done?, says, “I’ve never been good at dealing with not getting what I want,” you lean over to whisper in her ear, “Also, I heard Minjeong would love to collaborate with me. Once in a lifetime opportunity, you know?

It’s cruel the way you say it and she’s not stupid, knows how to put two and two together, the tears sliding free down her cheeks. Whimpers as your lips move from her earlobe to her jaw and down her neck, easing your grip on her wrist and the hand on your chest pushing you away drops to her lap. You grin against her skin and mutter a good girl, hand crawling under her shirt to grab her waist, pulling her more into your body. Part of your brain tells you to snap, to tear her clothes from her, take her like you always imagined, but the other part knows better than scaring her more and that time isn’t in your favor; you’ve been away with her for a few minutes, you still have a performance to record and soon the break will be over and someone will come looking for both of you.

Looking at her you can’t help but coo when she gasps as your fingers slide under the hem of her bra and grope one of her tits, a smirk taking place in your lips. “No, honey, not like that, come on, let me see you,” as she tries to turn her head, your other hand taking hold of her jaw and forcing her to keep looking at you.

You’ve fucked many girls in your life and yet, the euphoria that fills you upon hearing her moan and seeing her expression as you touch her is something completely new.

Her skin is feverish and your hands too cold making her shiver, not so gently taking one of her nipples between thumb and point finger, rolling and pulling it, eyebrows twitching and a whimper escaping past her lips. It’s accidental, her hands flying instantly to cover her mouth, and barely audible but enough to go straight to your core, to have you squeezing your legs looking for relief.

“You are a sensitive little thing, aren’t you?” You say in a low tone, never breaking eye contact with her, “What about this?”

Your free hand follows the same path as the other underneath her shirt and her back arches in a wordless answer. There’s a sick satisfaction in making her fall apart while she insists it doesn’t feel good, in seeing her body betray her pleas for you to stop.

“Take this off,” you rush, pulling her shirt up. Ningning refuses to put her arms up and tries to pry your hands away from her body, claw-like nails digging into your arms as she keeps begging for you to stop but you don’t hesitate on slapping her hands away, forcing her arms up as well as her shirt in a swift movement. She stills, stares at you dumbfounded and you scoff, “What? It’s okay to play with your little tits but you draw the line at me seeing them?”

It’s not okay and you know it. She tries again to push you away when you lean closer to reach behind her back and open her bra, failing to realize her position between the couch and yourself and that all her squirming only gets her body more and more into yours. She stops then as the straps slide down her arms and the piece falls to her lap, chest to chest with you, her face twisting and there’s that noise again, the whimper that makes your insides burn. She looks too pretty, teary wide eyes and blushed cheeks, lips parted and tempting you for a kiss. The idea of sitting on her face crosses your mind and the mere thought of her looking up at you from between your legs with the same wide eyes makes your hole clench around nothing, you can feel yourself growing slick.

But now your tongue craves to taste her much more than your own cunt craves her mouth.

Even her skin tastes nice on your tongue, going gooseflesh as you suck on a certain point of her neck and the effect it has on her is some kind of sorcery. She seems to forget everything; the struggling, the begging, where you two are. Fails to keep quiet when your mouth reaches her breasts, taking one nipple gently between teeth and sucking it greedily. You feel her bucking her hips, searching for friction, and glance up at her, seeing the way she covers her mouth with a hand trying to muffle her noises, tears rolling down her cheeks while she stares into your eyes with a certain look that makes you grin against her chest — no more fear or disgust but shame for liking it something so vile being done against her.

After a few minutes you pull back to admire your work, her chest heaving, puffy nipples shining with spit and even though you know better than to leave marks, the bruise looks cute on the soft underside of her breast. Your hand slides down her belly in no time, toying with the hem of her sweatpants for a moment before sliding further down between her legs and she begins squirming again, gripping on your shoulder and trying to push you away in vain, making you chuckle, watching her face carefully.

It’s a sight to see, the way her fighting merges with acceptance, clenched fists against your chest at the same time she lifts one leg so her foot can rest on the couch, unconsciously — or not — spreading herself and making it much easier for you to feel her soaked entrance through her underwear. Suddenly so quiet as you pull it to the side, no stops or crying or begging, only a shaky you’re sick cut off by a moan as a finger slides inside her.

It takes one, two, three slow ins and outs and the press of your thumb on her clit to have her melting, hands that once pushed you away now grabbing onto your shirt just for the sake of it, pliant under you like you wanted her to be from the beginning. Still, it’s not enough.

Your movements slow down almost to the point of stopping, no other choice for her but move on her own trying to feel something and you let her.

“Ningning?” She hums absently in answer, more cunt-thinking than anything else. You kiss her cheek lovingly and drag your lips to her ear to whisper, “Why aren’t you screaming?”

Ningning stills and frowns, blinking at you. “What?”

“Why aren’t you screaming? I never tried to stop you from doing so.”

She just stares at you in confusion, mouth open-close-open-close like a fish out of water, “I don’t—”

“None of that! Just admit it, silly girl, it’s nice, isn’t it?” She moans loudly as your thumb is suddenly too fast and slippery over her clit and your hand is fast over her mouth, hissing quiet! through teeth. “I’ll ask you again, why aren’t you screaming?”

You uncover her mouth and she takes a few deep breaths. She looks down between your bodies, at where your hand disappears and moves inside her pants and the squelching noises get louder as her hole gets wetter around your finger. When she looks back at you, her lips tremble and the tears are back in her eyes, ready to spill. It’s really quiet, between sniffs and if you weren’t so close to her you certainly wouldn’t have heard it, “Because… Because I like it?”

There she is.

“You do?” Your smile is so big your cheeks hurt, voice sugar coated and you know you look crazy or sick like she called you. “That’s my girl!”

You take her lips and there’s a brief moment of resisting before she’s yours completely, the tension leaving her body; parting her lips to let your tongue in. You pull away and she moves forward, following you with a pout, needing more, whining as you push her to lay back again. As you slide down to your knees, Ningning lifts her hips without you saying a thing, squirming impatiently when you take time to unlace and take off her sneakers, like the minutes aren’t passing — like you aren’t salivating.

Ningning is not the biggest example of patience, shoves her own pants and underwear down and spreads her legs wide, sitting more at the edge of the couch, closer to your face. Pretty just like you thought she would be, soaked and glistening under the lights, wetness sliding out of her cunt and down to her ass.

“Look at you,” you say, kissing a path on the inside of her thighs but never looking away and she squirms a bit uncomfortably under the weight of your stare.

Hands in your hair urge your mouth closer and you’re too desperate to tell her to not touch, so instead, you give in.

She’s salty and sweet and so much better than you could’ve imagined, mouth wide open and not holding back, doing your best to savor every single drop she gives you and more. Too wet, too much, tries to close her legs when your nose bumps repeatedly against her clit, which has you using both hands to force her legs spread and barking for her to stop moving. She struggles to keep quiet and it’s totally your fault, you should be careful, but there has never been anything careful about the way you eat pussy and it shouldn’t be different with her, especially with her. Head side to side, tongue flat and up, up, down, down, deeper into her hole—

You sit back on your heels, panting, fingers replacing your mouth on her slit and smearing arousal all over her puffy lips, her breath hitching when your middle and index finger slide inside her with ease while you watch slightly in awe, straight and deep, scissoring movements to stretch her open, her eyes rolling back when you crook them up.

Ningning curses under her breath, toys with her own tits in a failed way to try and mimic how you played with them earlier, the constant rubbing of your fingers against the spongy spot inside her being too much for her to think straight and not enough for her to cum and you know that, it’s on purpose and all on your face, a shark-like grin, your eyes flickering between her pretty face, eyes closed shut and biting her lip so hard you worry she might hurt herself, and her pussy, how your fingers come out more wet at each pump and her clit is begging for your attention.

She can barely open her eyes, a small line that is more tears than anything else looking down at you. Reaches for your wrist and pulls it more into her, fingers deeper, holding it so tightly it hurts, gasps, “Just a little—”

Kissing her mound, you nod, “Shh, I know, honey, I know.”

And you do know, not thinking much before using your free hand to expose her clit and spitting on it, action that has her almost sliding from the couch with how hard her hips buck. Slippery and red and aching, you wrap your lips around it and moan against her, sucking mercilessly.

If you were in the mood to be meaner, you would hold her down; if you had more time, you would be meaner; if you weren’t in a dressing room fucking her during a break and risking being caught, you would have more time, so you let her have her fun rocking against your face in a desperate search for relieve, almost like fucking your mouth.

Ningning tosses her head back and you can’t see more than her mouth falling in a soundless scream, your hand crawling up her torso to touch the breasts she had now let go and it’s impossible to drag you deeper and yet it’s what it feels like with her walls clenching around your fingers.

There’s a soft touch on your forehead, a push, harder and harder when your mouth doesn’t back away from her core, a cry from above you, “S-top, I can’t—”

You barely move to speak, annoyed, “Don’t you dare push me away again.”

She doesn’t.

It’s not for her pleasure anymore but yours and you couldn’t care less, slurping noises filling the room, the thought of if someone outside can hear it crossing your mind. The way her body curls up, small hands grabbing at your hair to the point it hurts, her pretty face twisted in such a scowl that if you didn’t know you would think she is in pain with the moments that pass and your tongue doesn’t stop swirling around the sensitive bud between her legs driving her into overstimulation, all of it makes your desire to keep going until she’s wasted increase and it’s a shame that you can’t. To her relief you let go of her clit with a wet, loud sound, tongue flat in a last taste, and her body falls slack back on the couch, breathless, subtle twitches of her legs as you kiss the inside of her thighs, pumping your fingers a few more times before pulling out just to hear her whine again.

You stare at your glistening fingers, ready to lick them clean before an idea pops into your mind, rising from the floor to sit by her side. Ningning opens her eyes as you get closer to her, teary orbs widening as you grab her by the neck, not saying a thing before shoving your fingers past her already parted lips and filling her mouth with her own taste. You don’t apologize when you reach too deep and she gags, instead presses down on her tongue and smiles proudly when she starts to suck.

“Good girl,” you mutter, transfixed by the way her lips wrap around your fingers and her head bobs slightly, one hand holding your hand in place, eyes looking into yours, “I told you it was going to be nice, didn’t I?”

“It was,” she says, letting go of your wrist and your digits fall from her lips, your hand sliding to her waist, leaving a trail of spit behind. She smiles, “I had fun.”

Ningning looks cute, at ease, like a switch had been flipped inside her head considering how she was struggling against you minutes before, now not caring that she’s still completely naked in front of you nor about the way you hungrily stare down at her.

“You should get dressed, soon someone will come looking for you.”

Her face falls, something close to disappointment washing over it and not going unnoticed by you, caressing her cheek and making her look at you while arching an eyebrow as if who says what?

Ningning huffs and blows a strand of hair a bit childishly, then gestures to your body, “You don’t want me to… repay the favor?”

“Are you that desperate to touch me?” You say nonchalantly, smirking at the way her face reddens twice more and she stutters to explain herself. “I’m messing with you. Next time, yeah? Now get dressed.”

It’s adorable the way her eyes shine at the mention of next time, nodding happily. You get up and walk to your vanity desk, looking through your makeup artist’s things in search of something to clean her face. Shooting a glance to the mirror, you watch her.

It feeds your ego to see a girl shaking and looking a bit lost because of what you did to her and it’s no different with Ningning, flushed face and pouting, too numb to properly stand and almost tripping on her pants. She struggles with her bra and you step closer, motioning for her to turn around and she promptly obeys, murmuring a quiet thank you when you clasp the piece.

She doesn’t object when you hold her chin, wiping her tears and mascara stained cheeks with cleansing tissues. “Unnie?”

“Hm?”

She chews on her lip nervously. “Are we… Can I… I mean, were you serious about the song?”

You tilt your head, frowning at her. She has her reasons to doubt you, you know that, but you can’t help but get offended.

“What, you think I lied to you? That I said that just to fuck you? You really think so low of me?”

Her eyes widen and she shakes her head frantically, has a hard time speaking because of how harshly you’re grabbing her face, “No, no, but you said Minjeong—”

“And? I say a lot of things when I’m mad. I do want you on the song, Ningning,” you say, more bitterly than you really meant, “but she’s a good second choice if you keep acting up.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

“Yeah, you better not.” You let go of her and walk to the other side of the room, throwing the wipes on the small trash can. There’s silence, only the annoying repetitive noise of the ceiling fan as you scribble your number down on a piece of paper, even adding a small heart and handing it to her. She takes it, unfolds to take a look and gasps, corner of her lips curving upward. “Don’t lose it, call me or text me tonight. I will also ask my manager to contact your team.”

“Oka—”

You cut her off with a kiss, hands flying to her waist and pulling her closer. Ningning moans against your lips and you wish you could torture her for a little more, savor her for just a few more minutes, but there’s a knock on the door, the familiar voice of her manager making her head snap around. She pouts, not wanting to let go either, turning back to you with a questioning look.

“What happened here, it stays between us,” she nods, giggling girlishly as you boop her nose and give her a last peck on the lips. “Now go.”

She leaves with a look over her shoulder and a small wave, to which you wink in return and mouth a call me, blush creeping up her face instantly. Afterwards, sitting down with your makeup artist doing her work on your face, you think about how much easier it is to play with her than you thought it would be — and how it might last.

a/n: so...that was it. i'm sorry if it feels rushed in certain parts and if it lacks on others, it’s not my best work and i wish i could’ve done something better but at certain point this was really stressing me out 😭 we hit 2k followers a few days ago and i'm really thankful for all of you guys and the support, it feels good knowing that there people out there that think like me! i'm sorry for not being as active as in the beginning, i'll try my best to fix that!

i think a few changes are going to happen, i don't know, i still have a lot of asks to answer and i don't know when i'll finish that, in a few days my anon inbox will be closed again 😭 i hope you guys understand that, i'm not ignoring anyone, it just overwhelms me! maybe i'll post more long fics, i have some ideas, or maybe just make more of my own posts like i said once... let's see!

i love all of you, thanks for being here with me for this whole year — yep, we also hit one year!

with love, simi 🤍

#writing.txt #aespa smut #ningning smut #ningning x reader #ning yizhuo x reader #girlgroup smut #gxg smut #aespa imagines #ningning imagines #cw: dubcon #cw: age difference #cw: power imbalance

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doobean · 7 months

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AN EASY A - NAGI SEISHIRO

synopsis: There's a problem student in your class and he just can't seem to understand that he needs to put in the effort. You've already given him three chances to make up his assignments - all of which he ignored. But what happens when he suggests another alternative during office hours?

contents: explicit content, afab!fem!reader, age gap (he's 22 and reader is 27), student-teacher (duh), reader kind of a tough professor lol, also a bully too ig, sex in teacher's office, masturbation (reader), power imbalance, nonconsensual video recording, vaginal sex, unprotected, creampie, breast/nipple play, dom?reader, switch!nagi, cunninglingus, cumming on face and inside, degradation, name calling (brat x 2, good boy x 1), nagi having a big dick, happy ending :) word count: 3.7K a/n: part 3 of my kinktober event :3 SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG LIFE TOOK OVER BUT I HOPE THIS MAKES UP FOR THE LOST TIME ;; I WILL MAKE THE LAST KINKTOBER FIC EXTRA SPICY TOO DONT WORRY FAM - also im super proud of myself for literally scraping the draft and rewrote this within a span of two days?? like wow the pressure is on.

There are some habits that never seem to change — even with age. You’ve seen it all, experienced it too, from emailing your teachers last minute about having to make up an exam worth over half of your course grade to faking a family death in order to get an extension, or — and this is more for students who are a bit too ‘brave’ — blaming the teachers for their inability to do their jobs. You knew what you would be getting into when you went into this job, from having to do the last minute panic pleas to now being on the receiving end of it. And you now actually feel sorry for having to bombard your past professors like that.

You release a deep breath from your nose and flick the red gel pen across a student’s exam, circling the large failing number by their name. “I’ll see you next year.” You try to sound less harsh, more on the sympathetic side, since you’re relatively still within the same age group as some of these students, but who wants to hear that? That they have to repeat a course and be stuck a graduation year behind? Absolutely no one.

You want to look away as you hand the student back his exam scores because you just know it’s going to end with tears and meaningless pleas but that would be unprofessional on your end. Instead, you give the student a small smile and a couple of pieces of candy from the glass bowl next to you.

“Sorry if it’s not much but it’s better than nothing?” God, you need to work on your pep talk. These students are basically adults, not elementary school kids.

“A-Are you sure I can’t do anything else to boost my grade?” The student starts to whimper and you have to tense your whole body from cringing at their quivering voice.

Ugh, it’s useless. Why bother begging if they haven’t bothered to study the material?

Still, you manage to whip up an emphatic frown and shake your head, voice sounding more motherly. “I’m sure it’ll be easier for you to understand next time.”

Another whine and then a final huff before the student storms out of your office. By the time the door shuts and their wails are out of ear shot, you slump back into your chair and groan loudly into your palms. Your body aches from being at your desk all day long — your mind is doing no better, having to deal with students’ cries and unwarranted trauma dumping. Seriously, when are they going to pay teachers more to deal with this type of stuff?

On the bright side of things, your office hours are officially over. Final grades will be up by tonight and you’ve completed most of your tasks with all but one student being a constant no show for the eternity of the semester but that responsibility doesn’t fall onto you. He and the handful of others can just show up again next year.

You spend some time debating your options, eating a nice, warm bowl of noodles sounds good for now but… you did spend nearly eight hours cooped up in your office and you are feeling a bit high energy right now, so stress relieving might be a good answer first.

“Now, where did I put that thing?” You reach down your desk, pulling up your purse and rummage through it looking for a very specific purple ‘massager’.

It’s super rare for you to ‘release’ stress while on campus grounds, this might be one of the few times, with others following the same patterns, but you feel the utter need to reward yourself after today’s events. It’ll only take you maybe ten minutes max, afterwards it’s dinner and then a quiet train ride home. Plus, not like you have a partner who can do this for you — you barely have time to take care of yourself, let alone be in a relationship or commit yourself to a random hook up. Sometimes, it’s just better to handle the situation yourself since it is your body.

A breathy sigh leaves your lips as you place the vibrating head against the soft cotton fabric of your panties, already soaked through by just the thought of de-stressing yourself. You throw your head back, with one hand steady with the magic wand and the other traveling up to your blouse, unbuttoning the top and allowing your black bra to be exposed in the room. As you increase the pressure from the vibrations, your free hand spills your breasts from its cups, your thumbs and digits immediately running over the sensitive nubs and plush flesh of your chest as you start to chase your high.

“M-Mhm—! Right there…” You roll your head to the side and shut your eyes, imagination fleeting to the thoughts of a male seated in between your legs, his tongue desperate and latching to your overwhelmed clit and folds while your thighs keep his shoulders in place.

You think it’s so unfair that your other friends have already settled down with partners of their own. When holidays come around the corner, when you finally catch a break from all the whining and fake wolf cries, you just have to hear your friends gush about how romantic their partners are to them. You secretly hate winter because of it. All those talks about Christmas gifts, their New Year’s couples resolutions, their stupid fancy ski trips that cost close to thousands of dollars, and then top it off for Valentine’s Day. Summer is more bearable, only because of the lack of romantic holidays, but you still get bitter from seeing their beach photos and international trips.

You change the position of your magic wand, facing it closer and pressing it harder down your clit, nearly drawing blood from your lips as you suppress back a frantic moan — a moan that’s a mix of both pleasure and frustration.

Fuck the students. Fuck your friends. And fuck this job.

“H-Haah—! Oh my god…” Your hips buckle feverishly, body quaking in your seat as you start to feel a familiar coil tightening in your stomach and a rush down below. A build up of tears start pooling at the corners of your eyes as your vision starts to grow hazy. Your heart heaves forward, about to burst out of your chest, the imaginary man just about to finish you off—

Creak.

Your eyes immediately pop open and the color drains from your face at the squealing sound from the door. You don’t have enough time to cover yourself up when you realize that a student is standing by the entrance, wearing an equally shocked expression on his face. A tousle of white shaggy hair, large gray eyes, appearing at a staggering height with—your gaze trail to his hands and nearly faint from the sight—his phone.

The sound of the door creaking again snaps you out of the phase and your arms fly over your chest, the words stuck in your throat and your vibrator falling to the floor.

Shit, what should you ask first? Has he been recording you this whole time? When did he even show up? You’re positive that you were the only one left in the academic building, so what is going on?

“Um,” The male has the audacity to walk in the room, his gaze fixated on everything but you. “Are office hours still open?”

What. The. Fuck.

You blink once, twice, and, when the student is still standing there, confirming your thoughts that he isn’t an awful mirage sent down by the Lord himself, you feel yourself internally shrinking.

“I-Is that the first thing you want to ask me?” You stifle back a laugh, or at least you think it’s a laugh. Maybe even a few waterworks for later. “Just who are you?”

But then it hits you. The black and blue duffle bag he has by his side had his name engraved on it. You don’t need to take a closer to recognize the national team’s logo and you certainly don’t need a Google search to realize that Nagi fucking Seishiro, a soccer prodigy and your apparent student for the semester, might’ve just recorded you masturbating in your office.

You manage to find an old jacket from one of the drawers at your desk and throw it on before pointing a harsh finger at the man. “Delete it, now.”

“Will I get an A?” Nagi is surprisingly blunt and, now looking back, this might honestly be the first time you’ve ever talked to him out of the whole semester. He seems to catch your perplexed look, shooting you a pair of creased brows back as he explains, “All of my other courses were remote because of training and football games… You were the only professor that denied it.”

You huff, seemingly annoyed that he thinks he can be an exception to your course rules. “I don’t hand out favoritism to just anyone and,” You glare at the phone in his hand, sneering right back at his uncaring facial expression. “I’m definitely not going to pass you if you’re threatening to black mail me.”

“Maybe we can help each other out?” Nagi offers, maybe a bit too fast and too eager.

You cautiously sink back in your seat, eyes narrowing at his suggestion. “What are you implying, Nagi?” The male shuffles awkwardly in place and your gaze flicks down, eyes widening for the nth time today and an audible gasp slips out. “You can’t be serious.”

“I need to pass and you—” Nagi clears his throat and motions to your slick covered vibrator, which is still very much on and buzzing away on the wooden floor boards near his feet. “You didn’t finish.” He rakes his fingers through his hair and adjusts the semi-hard length through his sweats with his other before finishing his offer. “I’ll delete the video, help you, and you’ll give me an A?” Nagi lamely suggests.

You want to scream, dig yourself a ditch large enough to fit you and the rest of however much pride you had left, and wither away. You’ve had students coming to you with plenty of other excuses, much more tamed than whatever situation you’ve found yourself in. And, regardless how much shitty this actually is, it doesn’t get rid of the fact that: one — you’re still sexually frustrated from having your orgasm ruined by this oversized, lazy fucker, two — you literally just got this job a year ago and getting fired for masturbating on campus might not look so great on your record, and three — if Nagi is true to his words, maybe you both can just forget about it the next day.

“You don’t get the control, I do.” You rise from your seat, allowing the jacket to fall from your frame. Your gaze hardens on the male subject in front of you as you bend down to reach for your toy, turning it off and putting it away in a nearby drawer that’s most likely filled with other student’s graded assignments.

Whatever, they’ll probably cry more fluids on it when they get their results back anyway.

Nagi tenses when you reach over to touch his arms, feeling up his toned biceps and rest of his upper body underneath the black hoodie, and he doesn’t dare to move unless you tell him to. You let out a scoff, feeling satisfied that he’s already willing to compromise so quickly under short notice. With a light tug on his sleeve, you drag him closer to your desk and settle yourself on top of it. You hike up your pencil skirt to your upper thighs and spread your legs wide enough for the width of his shoulders.

“On your knees, brat.”

He silently obliges, bending down on one knee and his hands find home on your inner thighs. You resist the urge to squirm under his touch, still feeling rather sensitive from your earlier chase and not wanting to give him any ounce of satisfaction. Without any audible exchanges, he allows you to direct his head closer to the heat of your sex, the combination of your increasing wetness and the hot puffs from his breath makes your stomach twist in anticipation.

With a quick swipe, his fingers brush aside your panties to the crease of your thighs and lean in, giving a few experimental licks to your slicked cover folds before burying the rest of his face in. Your reaction is instant. Your fingers claw their way deep into his shoulder blades, thighs threatening to squeeze the living life out of him, but Nagi’s grip is even more threatening. He stays rigid, palms glued to your thighs and keeping them in place as his tongue flicks against the stiff nub — drawing lazy circles.

Your mouth betrays your character as he suddenly decides to insert two digits, scissoring their way into your velvety walls. Nagi grunts in response at just how lewd you sound right now.

“Soaking wet…” He observes with careful eyes at your sex before looking up, a playful smirk flashes across his face when he notices the flush in your cheeks. With another twirl from his fingers, combined with the slow swirls from his tongue, your head rolls back as the torrent seems to be relentless.

With the next extra pumps, you cum hard with a shudder, vicing your thighs against his head. You can feel the leak of fluids slide out of your folds, and Nagi pushes his face inward, making sure he slid his tongue against that sweet spot of yours again. It blinds you with a final surge of pleasure, and you cry out as your orgasm shakes you to the core, nails biting into his shoulders.

You’ve never experienced an orgasm that intense before, even with the usage of your vibrator — hell, you can’t even remember when’s the last time a man has made you reach that high. Bright colors cloud your vision as you tumble through what seems like an endless bliss. Your body goes slack, back now flushed against the office desk, but Nagi’s body is still tense, his muscles twitching as he gets to his feet and lifts your legs off his shoulders.

“Hey,” Nagi slurs, wiping away your slick with the back of his hand. “We’re not done here.”

“W-What are you talking about—ah!”

Your vision is just beginning to clear up when you find yourself trapped between Nagi’s arms. He’s hovering above you, a certain dark look casts over his gray hues as he bores into your own. You swallow hard, heart beating faster when you look down to see his sweats already laid around his thighs and his cock springs free, head spilling with heavy amounts of pre. Nagi’s length twitches at the sounds of your moans and the male takes that as a sign of approval.

“What?” He leans forward, his bangs brushing against your forehead. “You’ve never seen a penis before?”

“Don’t get smart with me, brat.” You spit back, immediately tearing your gaze away from his rather impressive size. Might be the biggest you’ve ever seen in person outside from those awful porn videos online.

If you can find the energy to, you might’ve laughed at his lame attempt to have the upper hand, but Nagi doesn’t waste his time. He closes the distance, smashing his lips against yours, tongue already dragging its way down your throat. You choke back but recover quickly, hands flying to his locks, grabbing fistfuls, and rocking your hips against his hardened appendage. A sinful groan slips from his lips and lifts one of your thighs up, your ankle resting on his shoulder while he wraps the other around his waist.

You part your lips when he breaks away from the kiss, a thin trail of saliva connecting you two, and a whine spills from you as Nagi begins sliding his cock in between your folds. He sucks in his teeth, breath hitching sharply at the sight.

“Wanna put it in so bad—” He shudders seeing your slick engulfing his length. “Can I—Can I please put it in?” His monotone voice now replaced with a shaky resolve, almost as if he’s seeking for your next stage of approval and pleasure.

You reach up and cup his cheeks in your hands, eyes softening at his glassy ones. “Promise to delete that video and you might get a chance, Nagi.”

“Sei,” The male breathes out.

You tilt your head. “Huh?”

Nagi leans into your touch, nuzzling his cheeks into your palms. “Want you to call me Sei… Can you do that?”

“Sei…” You whisper out, suppressing back a laugh when you see the towering male tensing at the sound of his name. The twitching from his cock brushes against your clit making you squirm. “Sei, make me cum around that cock of yours.”

A cry escapes from the both of you when he slides in, inching bit by bit and holding your waist with both hands as leverage. You can’t do anything but throw your head back, sounds leaving your hoarse throat at the sheer size from him. Your hands can only reach his thighs, nails leaving their crescent marks on his skin as Nagi bottoms out inside of you with a long, agonizing stroke. Nagi takes his time, building a slow but steady rhythm, staring down at you with intense gray eyes and making sure the thickness of his cock stretches your walls as he continues. You suddenly feel grateful that you came earlier, the extra slick and foreplay made the insertion easier because you’re certain without it there’s no guarantee that you would’ve been able to handle this mind numbing fucking.

After a few more experimental strokes, Nagi finds a comfortable pace. You’re now starting to get used to him and it feels so, so good that you’re finding everything in your power to spread your legs as far open as they would go. Sensing your struggle, Nagi lifts one hand to push your thigh back even further, and you let out a yelp, whining when you feel him brushing against that sweet spot inside of you again.

A warm rushing sensation starts building in your stomach again and you feel as if you’re about to jump off a cliff. Your walls clamp down around his cock, wails starting to bounce off the walls and legs shaking without any means of control. You’re absolutely floored by the way Nagi’s able to make your body react this much under his touch. It’s only your first time having sex, yet it feels like he’d been making love with you for a lifetime.

Your eyes fly shut as the feeling of his callous thumbs make their way onto your swollen clit, rubbing and tapping away. Flames are riding your nerves, you can’t hold back any sort of resistance in your voice as he picks up the pace, hips slamming into yours and sounds of sex filling the air. Nagi moves swiftly and punishingly, holding your hips still and not allowing you any room to move around as his cock tears against that spot that had tears finally spilling down your flushed face.

“Sei,” You choke out a sob, throwing a hand over your mouth to try and suppress some of the noise. Though, you and him both know it’s a futile effort.

The build up of pleasure is so binding that you’re beginning to lose sense of time and place, feeling only the desperate and feral thrusts from your student. Your second orgasm fades slowly, leaving you in a pool of ecstasy, but that doesn’t stop Nagi.

Still hard and pumping, his grip on your hips only tighten and he grunts out a lustful moan. “Feels good, right? Cumming all over me?”

You look up to him, tears of pleasure disorienting your vision, and in a state where you’re too incoherent to speak — pleading only with your doe eyes.

Nagi understood immediately. He slows down his pace, leaning forward, making sure the head of his cock kisses the inside of your cervix before bending down to place one on your own gaping lips.

“Such a good boy, aren’t you?” You manage out.

He groans at the pet name and peppers your face and neck with wet kisses, lifting your leg with one hand so that he can slowly stroke back and forth inside.

One of your hands reaches for your chest, fondling and toying with your nipples while your other hand reaches for the back of his head, gripping his white locks and pulling him down for another feverish kiss. Your lips remain sealed and pressed together in a battle of tongues as he rocks inside of you, sending you yet another orgasm as he moans into your mouth.

“H-Haah—I’m close…” His hips buck wildly. “Gonna cum inside of this pretty pussy…”

Nagi finally comes undone inside of you, his whole body shuddering as coats of white paint the insides of your velvety walls. A heavy pant from him catches your ears as he pulls out slowly, eyes admiring the hot, white trail that travels down your thighs and onto your desk.

By now, you can barely keep your eyes open, both mind and body exhausted. You try to get up, only to find zero strength left in your limbs, but soon you feel a pair of toned biceps around your waist and Nagi pulls you into his firm, yet comforting chest.

You want to ask him something again, something regarding that video he took of you earlier, but you’re beginning to lose your train of thought as exhaustion creeps up. Your entire body aches and your pussy is still emptying his remaining orgasm. But, strangely enough, you find yourself not caring about it anymore.

A smile makes its way onto your features as you drift off to sleep, making you miss the fact that Nagi did delete the video shortly after and scribble a quick note next to your purse. It’ll be another hour before you have the chance to read it.

‘Don’t forget that A. XXX-XXX-0506 - Sei.’

KINKTOBER TAGLIST (PART III)

@milkistoshi @mareonyan @saenora @blissblossom @wowonamo

#doobean:kinktober23 #cw: power imbalance #cw: video recording #cw: age gap #bllk #blue lock #bllk smut #bllk x reader #nagi x reader #blue lock x reader #nagi seishiro #nagi seishiro smut #nagi seishiro x reader #blue lock x female reader #bllk x female reader #doobean writes

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sourpeachsayshi · 1 month

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therapist!nanami is kinky, nasty and pervy af is all I am trying to say.

#cw power imbalance #ugh this man

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wishluc · 1 year

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˗ˏ IN THE FACE OF ADVERSITY...

On a scale of 1 - 10 I think the yandere here is around 4? 5? But I find Childe to be terrifying regardless. Set in Sumeru, during the archon quest.

✧ CW: yandere character, abuse of authority, power imbalance, mentions of Harbinger-typical violence

✧ PAIRING: Childe x Fem! reader

You can't help but be mesmerized by the twinkling stars, shining so brightly against the blanket of darkness. A peaceful night like tonight is a luxury you can't usually afford.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?"

Your mood is soured almost as quickly as it was lifted as you hear the careful emphasis on your name, almost as if he was testing it out for the first time

Regardless, you aren't surprised to see that Childe is here again.

Despite his position, he didn't seem to have much to do—except, of course, spend every possible moment hounding you. Unlike the frightening rumors that lurked around the Harbingers, Childe appeared only as a man who was extremely proficient with his weapons, full of boyish charm and towering ambition. At first, you considered that he may be putting on a front—one that relied on a disarming smile and easygoing words—but after your actual meeting with him, you realized he was not full of tricks and traps. Childe was a blatant, proud challenge. The lack of deceit on his part, the plain truth he laid out to you when he introduced himself to you as "Number Eleven of the Fatui Harbingers," was because he wanted you to know. He wanted to exude his power over you, while simultaneously, extending an invitation to you, one that read loud and clear; Try and cross me, if you dare.

Even if he wasn't with the Doctor, on official business, Childe was still a Harbinger, and it was made very clear to you already. You had never seen a man so thrilled by violence, so exhilarated at the sight of blood and pain. He wielded his weapons with frighteningly natural ease, swiftly cutting through air and flesh alike with the same fluid motion. And when he stood, yearning for yet another rush after yet another battle won, it looked as though he was born to do this. You still remembered the blood-splattered figure, the glowering blue gaze, and the mad expression on his face, and you remember thinking that somehow, you believed nothing would suit him better.

And now, you're forced to regard this bloodlust-driven creatur, as the esteemed diplomat he makes himself out to be. You have to smile at his jokes and agree with his demands, forcing yourself to ignore just how swiftly he can pull a blade out and press it against your neck, and how it would only take a moment, a single command, to get his loyal soldiers to rip your heart out for him—since you clearly won't do it yourself. You have to pretend his sly remarks and coquettish grins fluster you, and not disgust you. You have to ignore the reminder that the callouses on the hand that was often placed on your shoulder were from training with numerous weapons and what exactly the mask at the side of his head symbolized.

And you have to do it all pretending like you're honored to be serving him.

"Master Tartaglia," a polite smile found its place on your face, "I hope your night is going well."

He grins, a playful quirk on his lips, "seeing that you are here, comrade, I can confidently say that it's going splendidly."

Childe gently turns you around, a hand finding purchase on the small of your back, to face the masked Fatuus who had been silently following him, "I'll be with my friend here, so you lot can go make yourself busy, hm?"

They immediately scatter away at his words, and he turns to face you again, the lopsided smile still playing on his lips, "sorry about that. They take their jobs quite seriously."

You nod in understanding, as he looks over the railing with you. You see his eyes linger on the many food carts stationed by the streets, a soft glow of light embracing each one. He looks at you with a knowing look, that excited glint in his eyes dancing wildly, and puts out a hand for you to take. You bite back any protests and take the gloved hand offered to you, praying the night would pass quickly.

The food is as good as you remember, hot, savory, and bursting with flavor. But it's hard to enjoy yourself when you're standing next to a man who is obviously a soldier of some sort, earning you both wary looks from all around.

"What's wrong, pretty girl?"

You've always hated when he called you that. At least, with 'comrade' you could believe it came from a place of equal respect, him recognizing the role you played as his guide, and the dangers you had exposed yourself to by doing so. That, and anyone could tell that you worked with him. But when he was flirting, it made it so much harder to deal with him. He wasn't stupid. He knew that there were others listening. He knew exactly how much harder it was coming up with excuses about why you were walking around with a Fatuus glued to your side when said Fatuus was sweet talking you, face pressed close to yours, instead of marching ahead of you with no concern for how you struggle to keep up.

"Nothing," you reply, "it's just been a while since I've come out here."

He chuckles, "I must have kept you quite busy."

Your laugh is awkward at best and forced at worst, but by now, he's used to your pathetic attempts at avoiding conversation. It doesn't perturb him—not that anything you do does, anymore. Childe only hums, seemingly lost in thought as his eyes gloss over the scenic view.

The streets suddenly fell silent, except for the rustling of paper and hushed whispers. It felt as though everyone was holding their breath, waiting to see what the Harbinger would command. You weren't sure if other Fatuus had already come around here and wreaked some havoc, or if they were just unsettled because of the way Childe's smile never met his eyes.

Then, at last, he walks some ways out to a more secluded spot. The lights here are dimmer and the silence even more deafening. You find your eyes searching around for any other signs of life, despite knowing that Childe did not bring you here to have you killed. Not yet, at least.

"I was thinking," he says, eyes closely gauging your reaction, "of extending my stay."

He's not asking for your input, that much you can tell.

"There's still a lot I'd like to see around here. So, what do you say?" The warm smile is everything but inviting, now. It feels like you're about to sign a deal with the devil.

"I'll have to see if the Akademiya—"

He sighs, "The Akademiya works for us. That wasn't what I was asking." Almost as quickly as it dropped, the all too familiar grin is back on his face, "what about it, then?"

You think back to the calloused hands stained red and the blades concealed on his person. It would take less than a moment for him to pounce. How many of his subordinates are waiting for his orders, hidden in the dark and ready to attack? You remember the bloodstained Harbinger you were introduced to all those days ago, that look of uninhibited delight clear in his eyes. Childe—Tartaglia—was not asking for your opinion. He did not have to go through the pleasantries of pretending to do so, because there was clearly only one answer you could give him.

"It would be my pleasure, Master Tartaglia."

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venusandsaturnsrings · 1 year

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★彡 devoted little lamb!

synopsis: to worship was your purpose and it only made sense that this extends to the most beloved of priests.

contains: afab/fem reader, sacrilege, blood sacrifice, power imbalance, reader is a virgin, f.receiving oral, and fingering.

a/n: this is a full 3k words of blasphemy. please enjoy cuz i sure did!! ꒰(͏ˊ•ꈊ•ˋ)꒱

father Alhaitham was something of a miracle worker for you. with any troubles you could trust he’d dispel them with so much as a goblet to your lips and a prayer unspoken. such power, to anyone outside the church, should warrant fear. it should warrant caution and even a call to the matra. even in a world of elements, gods, and visions he was unnatural and worthy of bone trembling terror. you should find your skin prickling with fear upon the favour he bestowed to you yet, so much as a single raised hair was never felt. much like any other that attends his sermons, you revere father Alhaitham; he comes only second to your beloved god. blessed by the archon of wisdom herself, father Alhaithams knowledge knows no bounds. through his eyes you’re sure you could see the innermost workings of anything those viridian hues laid upon. he is positively worth all of the commotion the people, yourself included, give to him.

with slender fingers, he shuts the heavy text he’s surely already memorized. with every sermon you feel as though you see a new and more impressive side of father Alhaitham. no doubt, his mind and body are akin to the most divine of pastries; smooth layers to which only the most delicate and sharpest of knives could split open to admire the inner beauty. only metaphorically, of course, would you dream of splicing him so carefully. his voice reverberates over the room. honey smooth and laced with dominance came all his words; almost practiced, though, you knew he wouldn’t need it. what is practicing worth to a man who already has it all? his light bow and gesture for the acolyte to trail him had your guts in knots. a man as self assured as himself would make a lovely god, you think.

the cool tones, ones that nearly matched his eyes, of many stained glass windows shimmered down his form much like stars opening at his wake. you wouldn’t have been entirely surprised if the sky had opened up to gift him his own ever present galaxy. royal blue, gold, and jade painted over his already handsome features to create something you would have painted had you had the time. his skin and hair nearly glittered with how delicately the light graced him as though he was only porcelain, a vessel handcrafted by Buer for her most perfect messiah. one she’d fill with riches and a soul of the most lovely. his shoes made a soft ‘clack’ with each step he took across the hand tiled floor. you heard rumours that each one had been individually blessed by father Al-haitham but you wouldn’t dare bring such a ridiculous statement to his attention; you only desire to keep his favour. after every sermon you’d wait for the majority of the congregation to dispel before leading yourself to his office, your own personal taste of heaven.

the hallways are linear. to get from point ‘A’ to point ‘B’ was a task even a freshly born puppy could do so the first few times you got lost, father Alhaitham reprimanded you with a firm hand on your shoulder. he wasn’t truly mad but you felt something you’d never felt before when he mumbled about how, ‘you’re such a silly one. a lost little lamb, hm? no matter, you’re here now.’ with a voice that reached your stomach it was no wonder how he’d managed to wrap you around his finger. with gentle knuckles, you knocked against the bright wood door. the man in question opened the door as if he’s been waiting on the other side for your arrival; due to routine, he had been.

“you’re here. come now, today will be a bit… different from our usual sessions. i’m afraid i have concerns about your… state,” such words he’d never spoken to you before. with knitted eyebrows he re-closed the door before giving you a once over, right hand under his chin. the room was already dim due to the window facing away from the sun but with his presence seeming as though it loomed alongside your demise, it felt even darker. he stepped towards his desk which had already been covered in a number of tools you’d seen before; a rosary, a glass of holy water, a golden goblet of dandelion wine, and bread. yet, one was unfamiliar to you; what looked to be a freshly polished silver knife, a cross engraved in the handle. father Alhaitham glanced over his wares before letting out a long sigh and nodding to himself as if receiving his own approval. maybe after this you’d be on the end of this nod rather than a collection of objects. he spoke without turning to look at you, “i sense what can only be described as sin bubbling up within you,” he shook his head with clear upset, “this cannot go unattended. you are one of my, and our gods, most wonderful treasures. please, allow me to purify you.” had you not been so trusting of him you’d have thought your god was an afterthought in his actions but fear flourished faster than you could think. with trembling legs and tears beading in the corners of your eyes, you begged. you begged for him to make you clean once more, for whatever this sin was to no longer afflict you, for father Alhaitham to praise you once more. those with sharp minds would decode your words accurately; you were begging for his love, not your gods. he swivelled and his gaze found you once more, “righteous as always. forgive me, but i require you to remove all your clothing. on our beloved god, i will not look for the sake of your modesty. instead, i will busy myself with the final preparations for our ceremony.”

he rolled up his sleeves to reveal the pearly skin of his forearms. on other occasions perhaps you’d stop to admire the display of skin but you were given a task, to strip. your shaky fingers began removing your clothing and folding it nearly on a small side table located in the corner of the room as he prepared the stone altar against the window with a combination of holy water, myrrh, sweetgrass, and sage. father Alhaitham took his time delicately preparing the surface, hands lovingly applying the mix and massaging it into every crevice with a level of sensuality that had you averting your eyes. with all clothing shed, you modestly covered your most intimate parts while mentally steeling yourself for his eyes to land on you. when he turned, if he had any feelings about the view of your body in its most natural state, his expression did not waver from one of concern. before ridding his hands of all residue, he gestured to the stone alter, “please, lay down.”

cold, damp, and unpleasant were all words you could attribute to the experience of your bare skin atop the surface. your nose wrinkled a slight bit and you tried to find comfort in knowing it would heat up through your body and that this is all for your own good. after this, you’d be clean of sin once more. father Alhaitham returned to your side, rosary in hand. nimble fingers gently guided your shaky ones to hold it the way you had many times before when praying at his side. typically, you found that he had no patience for any nervousness but it today, for you, he made no comment or move to chide you. though you were lying down, soon bread was placed against your palate by his own hand. he gently drew it back to caress your cheek with what could only be described as the most tender of care. with such worry directed to you by father Alhaitham, you could nearly cry; it’s a blessing in its own right. the goblet soon followed, wine pouring into your mouth and the slightest bit down the corner and across your cheek. this time, no hand came to remove it though his eyes followed its path down your neck. he swallowed harshly and paused in his movements momentarily before turning back to take up the knife. if you were nervous before, you were terrified now.

“relax. i promise i would never do anything to you that wasn’t required, especially if it involves pain,” he almost looked as if your pain would be his own and perhaps it was. you didn’t dwell on this thought for it was a selfish one. the pain of any loyal worshipper of the same god would be his own, you are no special exception. “for this portion, i will draw gently upon your form. along each arm and leg, from the bottom of your ribs to your navel, and across each breast. this knife is sharp so it will take no more effort than the weight of the handle. i urge you to refrain from moving.” you sucked in air in tandem with him as the blade first came to your sternum. his words were most certainly truthful, expected of a priest, as he added no extra pressure when gently dragging it lower. the first thing you registered was just how cold the tip of the knife is, the second was the sharp pain. your slight wince didn’t go unnoticed as father Alhaitham mumbled an apology. he raised the knife from your flesh when it came to the end of his mental line. the blades edge took on a dark sheen of your blood that he looked over. his most beautiful eyes inspected the silver before dropping to where the knife had cut; he hummed in satisfaction before bringing it to just below your left hip, the next place he’d cut. father Alhaitham took to softly singing a hymn you were familiar with, seemingly to comfort you as the blade came across all your limbs in the following moments. it rose up to your chest where he gulped. no longer could he ignore just how bare your are under him and just how dollish your eyes were as they fluttered, glazed over in both pain and fear. while his right hand placed the knife appropriately, his left came to cup your cheek. with his thumb soothing across your flesh, you barely noticed how he cleanly cut atop each of your breasts. you were simply too caught up in the delightful feeling of his skin against your as you lay exposed to his lowered gaze. had you not been so assured in the professional nature of this encounter, you would have noticed the increasing thickness in the air that could only be attributed to the intimacy and the arousal you had not noticed pooling between your folds; father Alhaitham did.

he stood up straight and drew away from you to admire the work he had done. your form under the soft light of the window and painted in your own blood, the most lovely of sacrifices. the goblet was in his hand once more as he brought it to collect the blood dripping down your waist and sides, mixing with the remnants of wine previously drank. the metal was wonderfully blunt compared to the blade that had just split your flesh open. with what he gathered, father Alhaitham dipped his thumb in to draw the horizontal and vertical lines to complete a cross on all seven of the cuts he had made; one for each element of Teyvet. he was more than satisfied with his work, if the soft smile gracing his features was anything to go by.

“my dearest little lamb, it pleases me greatly how well you’ve done for me here but,” he seemed to be conflicted by his next words, “would you allow me to indulge myself in you?” the meaning of his words was lost on you but how could you ever decline him? how could you ever decline the one that has given you purpose, light, and salvation should you ever need it? you nodded and half expected him to request your words as he always does but, today only a movement was enough for him. “please, continue holding the rosary as you are.” strong hands pulled you down the stone by your knees until you rested with your lower legs dangling off the edge which elicited a sigh from your most beloved priest; your pliancy always did please him. with hands still on you, he gently parted your legs as he kneeled between them before speaking in a tone lower than you had heard before, “consider this my own kind of worship.”

your face was certainly flushed already but it heated up tenfold as his tongue made its way through your soft folds and you could hear him sigh as your grip on the rosary became tighter. he used the tip to gently poke through and play softly with your virgin entrance, one hand coming up to push the lips of your pussy open much like a flower blooming. your hips jerked slightly as his nose came in contact with a spot you weren’t familiar with but that felt so very good. a whimper left your throat as a moan left his, the vibrations travelling through your cunt and causing a whole new gush of slick to leave your pussy. eagerly, father Alhaitham lapped it up before bringing his lips to your clit. he planted a couple soft kisses to your pretty and glistening nub before wrapping his lips around it and suckling oh so perfectly. he knew you were a virgin but didn’t expect you to come undone on his face with only a slight suck to your cute little clit. a sudden and loud whine left your mouth as your back arched to push your pussy further against his face. the feeling of an orgasm was entirely new to you but you were already addicted to the intense pleasure brought by your priest. he leaned back slightly, panting and in reasonable amounts of shock from such a sudden reaction. with your wetness still on his face, he mumbled to himself, “apologies but i suspect i’ll have to worship for awhile longer.”

you didn’t even have time to come down from your first high before his face was settled into the heat of your core once again. a small sob left your throat upon the contact but you couldn’t help the way your hips bucked up to meet his mouth. father Alhaitham, as always, knew exactly what you wanted and needed. his tongue worked wonders as it gently fucked into your hole, where his cock would rest at a letter date, and his fingers moved to gently flick at your clit. he buried his face impossible closer to you only to inhale the scent your pussy let off, one he could spend the rest of his days smelling like some sort of inhalant drug. his mouth and fingers swapped places so he could lathe over your clit and provide teasing nips to the sensitive bundle. with one gently finger, he circled your hole to gather more wetness before slowly plunging into you. as if an apology for the sting, he kissed at your clit endlessly before twisting his finger to provide the perfect angle he needed. with your utmost comfort in mind, father Alhaitham waited until your sobs subsided before fucking you gently with the single finger. he curled it slightly and made sure to push up against where he knew would have you writhing on the alter as he nipped once more at your clit to keep you grounded in the reality of his face between your legs.

for a man with, what you assumed, no prior experience he sure knew how to fuck you without his dick. all his concentration was solely on how much he was falling in love with your pretty pussy and how much he wanted to die buried between your thighs. gods be damned, you were his new religion and your moans his scripture. he was pulling orgasm after orgasm from you, rutting against the side of the alter. his cock rubbed harshly against the stone through his pants and while he mourned for the warmth you’d most certainly provide, he’s nothing if not patience. you, his most devoted lamb, were to be rewarded with all his mouth can give. your grip on the rosary became tight enough that it broke, beads falling down to the floor. you’d have been appalled at how careless your treatment of such a sacred object was had you not been so caught up in the pleasure bestowed to you. with eyes rolling back into your head and a particularly high moan, you drenched his face. father Alhaitham would take it as his new holy water, siphoned directly from his own personal fountain of youth and most importantly, from his lover. he panted much as you did as well but this task was far from over for him. how could he end things here when he craved so much more? when your pretty hole was fluttering so enticingly and when his cock was so very close from emptying his balls inside his pants? only a fool would hold back now, he thought as his mouth placed open kisses and bites to your thighs for slight mercy to your already abused cunt. a dreamy sigh left his watering mouth, you really do smell delightful. he spat onto your pussy in a rather debauched fashion before drawing his tongue up from the cleft of your ass to the top of your cunt. with eyes finally drawing back up and across your form, he mentally sent a genuine prayer to your shared god. one so filthy he’d most certainly be sent straight to hell upon death but he couldn’t find it in himself to care; hell could be delightful as long as you’re there with him. his eyes dropped back to your pussy.

“c’mon little one, a bit more for me. you truly are my favourite.”

#cw: sacrilege #cw: blood sacrifice #cw: power imbalance #female reader #afab reader #alhaitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut

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dead-dove-orchid · 8 months

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Day 4: Crush

#orchid draws #puppypuppet #cw mentor student relationship #cw power imbalance #cw species difference #dead end paranormal park #de:pp fingers #de:pp pugsley #dead end netflix #dead end fingers #dead end pugsley #pugsley guttman #dead end fanart #dead end paranormal park pugsley #dead end paranormal park fingers #puppylove!!! pugsley wants to give fingers a kiss!!#cmon fingers lean in and let ur pooch give u a smooch!!#they’re so silly hehe

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van1llam1lkk · 7 months

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Kinktober Finale ; Monster Fucking

[ nsfw | CW ; Inhuman anatomy (Diphallia + Prehensile Penis ) , Technically Futa, Stomach Bulge, Dubcon, cream pies, Erisa isn't human, hand job, cream pie, facial, minor overstimulation, condescending tone, God complex, 'Making it fit', Reader is a bit of a pervert ]

Female x GN!Reader

a/n ; Sorry for not posting for like- two weeks, I accidentally started fixating on TADC and was too busy making self-indulgent fics with my silly OCS...

WC; 1.9k

Synopsis — It's recently come to your knowledge that Erisa has tried to cast away her sexual desires. But her neediness for intimacy and growing sexual frustration is starting affect her, and you're more than eager to help her out.

She thought she got rid of this feeling.

She did try so hard, to bury those vile disgusting thoughts in the darkest part of her mind. So that one day she may permanently forget what it felt like to feel so human.

Trying to Satiate the bubbling emotions with the metallic taste of your blood on her tongue.

but it never would be enough she knew that the moment she decided to cast away her humanity.

So maybe that's why she doesn't feel as guilty as she should watching you settle yourself in between her thighs. Warm hands caressing her abnormally cool skin to nudge her already wide-spread legs wider.

Prior to this you spent the entire week bothering her, promising over and over again that you wouldn't break and whatnot. She didn't really believe you, she still doesn't actually- Any devote follower of hers would spout the same thing if in your shoes.

But the idea of savouring those lost desires even if for one last time was enough to have her willingly spreading her legs apart for you.

She supposes it isn't bad, it could've been worse. And to have sex for the first time in centuries with you is definitely ideal.

She's brought out of her personal thoughts when you call her name, pretty eyes staring up at her.

"Erisa?" You murmur staring at the deity, mild confusion etched into your voice.

White eyes flickered to your own, her head slightly tilting. "Yes dear?"

"You have two..?" You start trailing off into silence as the realization slowly hit you. Erisa doesn't respond, or even offer any sort acknowledgment for that matter.

"It's impolite to stare." She finally says, leaning back into the plush cushions of the couch that was just a little too small for her size.

You shake your head, trying to clear the growing fog in your brain. "'M sorry, didn't mean to stare." You start but you're quickly shushed by the large hand pressing against the back of your skull.

In your defense— It's a not really a common thing to have two semi-hard dicks pressed firmly up against your cheek. With a little force you manage to pull your head back, a shaky hand grabbing at one.

Sticky and warm, that's probably the best way to describe it. It very obviously didn't behave like a human penis, nor did it really look like one— Tapered tip that's leaking precum, and barely any real details other than it's girth and the sheen coating its length.

You give a small tug, watching with mild interest at the way pushed and squeezed against your fingers. You turn your attention to Erisa, whose breathing heavily— If she actually had blood you're sure she'd be blushing right now.

Shifting your position slightly you move your other hand up to lightly tease the second one, slowly grinding your palm against the thick appendage. "F-fuck, is this good?" You mumbled, eyes flickering up to the deity who was too busy bucking her hips into your hands to care about answering your question.

A shaky exhale leave you, sure there were moments when you'd see Erica's composure falter. But most of the time you'd barely be conscious— Or too focused on the burning sensation on your shoulder to really notice how loose she was becoming.

but this? This was something else, drool leaking from her lips nails digging into the plush material that sank beneath her while her two other arms sat on her spread thighs, as if she was unsure what to do with herself. it was almost cute

Just the sight alone was enough to make you set a steady pace, pumping your hand along both shafts feeling the way they throbbed and pulsed, the wet squelching sound every time your hand slid up Her length filling the air.

"Mhf… You're hands are so—…" Her words start leaving her as heavy pants, as she gives a small thrust up into your hand.

"Shit so soft—" She stammered out, sharp nails that were digging into the fabric finally giving out and tearing.

Her hips mindlessly buck into your hands, her deep breathing be coming shaky and uneven with each passing moment.

You never felt so turned on in your life.

A low moan leaving her with an open mouth and eyes fluttering shut. You can tell you're close, but there's really no way for you to tell if she is or not.

Although, the way her hips are moving and thrusting into your hands in time with your stroking suggests yes.

A small tug on the base of her shaft causes a low rumble to leave her chest.

With a delighted moan she pushes her hips up against your hands, reaching one hand down to grab at one of your wrist and pulling your hand towards her to match a feverishly quick pace.

She hums, eyes fluttering shut as her hips buck and grinds her crotch against your hand, and in response your own eyes squeeze shut, so that the warm spurts of cum falling all over your face and hands doesn't get into them.

Your tongue absentmindedly coming out to lick the creamy substance off your lips. "F-fuck that's a lot of cum." You mumbles wiping your face clean with your sleeves, when you do finally take a peek at Erisa she's already grabbing you up from your position on the floor.

Impatiently pulling the silky fabric off and tossing it to the side so she's able to sit you on her lap. Grinding her already hardening cock against your pussy, "Your so tiny... You'd probably just break from just one cock." She muses, lifting you up slightly so her tip aligned with your sloppy hole.

You'd half expected her to ease you onto it, gentle and caring like you weren't be having like an absolute brat this past month just to into this position. But you'd notice her loosening grip far too late, especially once she got the first inch in. Letting gravity do the rest to pull you down onto her.

"Fuck!-" You gasp out, heavy pants leaving as she finally bottoms out, pussy walls twitching and clenching around her from the sudden fullness you felt in your tummy. You'd probably be in shock right now if it weren't for the same burning sensation of your insides stretching keeping you up and awake.

"Shit— S-shit so deep." You stammer out, hands clawing at her own that had firmly held your waist. Slowly she lifted you up, every single inch she pulled out feeling like it's pulling at your insides to before she dropped you back down.

" Ha.." She hummed pleasantly, savoring how you twitched around her. Her hand sliding over to your stomach, lightly pressing down on the bulge "See that little lamb? That's how deep I am, I wonder if you can feel me in your tummy..." She hums lifting you back up,

"Mmh I can feel your stomach fluttering." She adds with a pleased hum rolling her hips up into yours forcing out a broken moan from your throat.

It takes everything in you not to come right there, the tightening sensation in your pussy overwhelming your mind.

"So, cute..." She adds as an afterthought, fingers trailing over a familiar mark on your abdomen before going back down to your waist. "How does it feel? Being filled up like a common whore, like you're nothing more than a classless concubine?"

Your stomach churned at her words, your much smaller fingers gripping at her own. Loud, wet smacks filled the air, yourself wae hips bucking into hers as she picked up her pace, plunging into your pussy and grinding against your insides.

It doesn't take long before she found a steady pace, wet squelches filling the air, mutterings of praise that you couldn't even properly register.

"Ha-ah, fuck, fuck Eri —!" You stammer out, struggling to keep your voice down as she grinds into you, slick and what you could only assume was precum covering your thighs and leaking down into the couch that you were sure would break with the way it's creaking.

Your eyes flutter shut as you find yourself teetering over the edge, it would be so easy to just succumb to the pleasure. "Ngh, I'm gonna...!"

You're warning is cut short by a needy whine, and the your body stiffening. Twitching under the full weight of your orgasm, your quivering body fall back onto her. Long ragged breaths leave you as you ride out your orgasm.

It takes a good few minutes for you to even register that she's pushed you into a new position eyes too glossy and mind too fogged with list to even notice your back was in the couch till you felt two large hands push your thighs up to your chest.

"God you're Pathetic" She mumbles under her breath, "All wet for me, gripping me like you actually deserve my Cum." She teased, but you couldn't help but feel like she believes it's true in some sense. Maybe it was the way she bullied her cock back into your used, sensitive hole. Not noticing or just choosing not to care the way you squirmed in the slightly uncomfortable position.

"Don't start acting like that now, weren't you begging me to fuck you stupid? The entire. fucking. Month." She mocked, chuckling when you'd only whimper in response.

"So be a good pet— Let this God fuck you." She panted, punctuating her words with a harsh thrust of her hips. With the mating press she'd force your body into, it felt like you could've torn in half— Your lingering orgasm providing no help on easing the sensation. The way the tip nudged against every nook and cranny inside of you, slightly squirming inside of you as she slammed her hips up and down— making it feel like she's dragging your insides in and out of you.

"Hmm— Ahmm..." She hums, white eyes fluttering open to rest on your own tear filled ones. A small smile forming on her lips. The sensation of something wriggling inside of you and twisting and shifting, filling your womb with its warm mass— it's new position wasn't enough to cause discomfort but it was unbearable enough to have you crying beneath her.

Overstimulation and the fullness getting to your lust-hazed mind. " Beg, beg for your goddess cum. Beg me to make you my personal breeding cow." She rambled hips stuttering into you, the second cock that wasn't inside of you grinding and sliding up against your ass glossy with precum and slick and whatever else was coming from where your hips connected with hers.

You felt like you were burning— every single inch of your body was screaming for you to wither away under her. Sensitive bundle of nerves only being grinded against and played with. Poorly string together words flee your mouth, the only sensible lines being

"Please, please." "Please fuck me— Please, I need it." coupled with a breathy moan.

The only warning you got was the stuttering in her hips before she pushed you further down, hands holding onto your hips tightly so she could bury herself as deeply as possible into your cunny.

You weren't sure where the sudden feeling of a tight knot bursting came from, but with how much cum seemed to flood your pussy— Pearly white spurting from your pussy and flowing down onto the couch beneath you.

She pulls off of you, mostly, to let your legs comfortably fall back down.

"Shit— hey, hey Darlin'... don't pass out me now, I still have more to give ya'" whispered rocking her hips against you gently. hand squeezing your neck lightly, but your vision had already blurred by then.

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