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#genshin thirsts
rosedom · 6 hours
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AHH UR SO RIGHT, fucking him over his bike, his pride and joy, while he gasps and moans while blubbering on how good u make him, how good it is.
AHHH him in leather too, he'd look so fine with a leather jacket bro omfg (≧▽≦) the way he'd tremble when you'd bite his neck, marking him up all from his neck to his shoulders as he tries to he quiet, embarrassed that he's feeling this good with you railing him over his precious bike
Maybe he's known as the "bad boy," the complete opposite of you,, and nobody would expect the two of you to even speak to each other,, but here the two of you are, both of you pretty much trembling from overstimulation and how good you're both feeling aahdbsksbdjs
It's such a good idea omfg ahdhshdbs ur brain is so good it's amazing
-pera
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"in an open match, 【 pera 】 has invited WRIOTHESLEY to play . . . dress for the slide
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✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!male!reader, sub!ftm!wriothesley, modern au, sex against a motorcycle, vaginal fingering, PIV sex, dirty talk + teasing + lowk praise, lighthearted bickering (mid- and post-coitus), slight breeding kink, creaming, creampie, alluded aftercare .
A/N : i know it technically wasn't an invitation, but . . ye<3 + fun references of dad!wrio with sigewinne <33
"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."
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Wriothesley is not an arrogant, prideful man. He is humble; he tips generously at restaurants, holds the door open for anybody coming up behind him, greets people—you especially—with a kind smile. 
The scars marring his body, the thick leather of his jacket and pants, the spikes and chains worn like jewelry, accessories—it’s intimidating, sure, but on him, it’s hardly such. 
Little children—they bound up to him, pulled as if by a magnet. It’s adorable, it’s endearing; and Wriothesley takes it all in stride, smiling that toothy grin of his and giving lollipops and candies from God-knows-where. (He’s got a pocket in his jacket just for sweets.
It’s why he always smells like sugar, beneath his frosty cologne.)
And speaking of children... Wriothesley is so good with ‘em. He holds custody over small Sigewinne, for crying out loud! She’s quite popular in school, too; while she's certainly a ball of sunshine on her own, her father certainly seals the deal for her—especially when he drops her off and picks her up in that hot ride of his:
a goddamn motorcycle. 
Now, you’re not exactly an expert in the things: all you know is that it looks badass, and it makes Wriothesley all the more ruggedly handsome to you. 
And, well.
It just so happens that, now, you’ve got this ruggedly handsome, sugar-frosted man all for the taking, spread out across the seat of that damn bike. He’s got his usual get-up on for when he rides—leather jacket, torn jeans, simple tee—, his hair a mussed up mess from where he took off his helmet. The helmet is resting precariously on the back seat, a support for Wriothesley’s body as you kiss him silly.
“Hah—wait, wait,” he’s pushing you back, breathless, his leather, fingerless gloves accentuating his fingertips, the short, bitten nails of his. His cheeks are tinged pink, and he looks good enough to eat—to devour. 
You hum, tip your head to the side to nonverbally ask, What’s up? but Wriothesley’s twisting around just-so, just enough to grab his helmet. He passes it off to you—with, to your delight, shaking hands—, and asks, “Can you put this on the ground?” You raise a brow, taking it anyway to do as he asks, and he continues, sheepish. “I—ah, I don’t want it to fall.”
You laugh, then, corralling back up to him once the helmet’s safely deposited on the grass (and not the pavement, thank you. You’re not a monster, letting something as sexy and sleek as that helmet risk getting scratched up). 
“Oh?” You lean back in, making like you’re about to kiss him again—kiss him proper, now, without worrying about the precarious balance of his beloved helmet—, but you dip down at the last second to press hot, searing kisses across his throat. “Why would it fall?” you continue, chuckling at the soft whimper that falls past his lips. “Unless you’re thinking about something naughty.”
He goes silent; the motorcycle rocks, just a little.
You pay it no mind, though. “Dirty, dirty boy,” you coo instead, lapping at the heavy thrum of his pulse. He groans, strong, leather-bound hands coming to wrap themselves around your biceps, yet he makes no other noise besides the quiet sounds of each exhale. 
Soon enough—because it seems Wriothesley truly is intent on keeping it zipped—, your mouth has landed on the softest, most tender part of his neck. You hone in on it like you’re some type of mosquito blood-sucker, lips wrapping around his skin and sucking, suckling, working your tongue over it until it blooms a pretty shade of purple.
You tire quick, though, of the lack of vocal reply from your lover. “You can’t tell me you haven’t fantasized about this already,” you murmur, suckling a new mark opposite of the first one you’ve set prominently, “about me, about me fucking you jus’ like this...” You slide your hands up from his side to cup his jaw, thumbing at the subtle stubble as he looks up at you with such icy-blue irises. 
You don't expect Wriothesley to nod. “I do,” he adds on, to really fluster you. 
“I—ah?” You hiccup, pause, bite at the side of his neck mere inches above your first mark. “Gimme the deets.” 
(It’s fun, to be immature like this.) 
He huffs above you, gentle laughter shaking you from where you suckle bruise after bruise after bruise, leaving him looking like he got mauled by a bear, or whatever. (Your possessive heart soars at seeing your claim spread across his skin, where even his jacket collar can't cover. 
Everybody will know he's yours.) 
“Stop talkin’ like that,” he grumbles—the effect lost by the way he laughs—, “you sound like a teenager.”
“A horny teenager.” 
He barks out a true laugh at that, the sound spilling into a soft moan when you suck at the slight hollow of his throat, the area oversensitive because of the scars. “You're insufferable.”
“And hard,” you murmur, rolling your hips down into him. The motorcycle creaks at your movement, but, this time, it stays still—perfectly still. (You thank Wriothesley for the care he gave his bike, going as far as to invest in a good and proper kickstand. 
He definitely didn't imagine this when buying that, though.) 
It's time to up the ante, then (to really test the give of the product.)
“Lemme fulfill those dirty fantasies of yours, sweet thing,” you coo, suddenly dropping the pretense of light-hearted teasing and diving right on into adopting that tone of voice you know makes Wriothesley utterly helpless in his arousal. 
Yet, “Sigewinne rides on this with me—” he tries to say. 
“So?” You dip down, hot breath fanning against his lips. His eyes cross to follow your descent, trained on your mouth getting closer, closer. “I’ll clean it.
“Besides,” you continue, rubbing the tips of your noses together. His own breath tickles your face. “I want you to be reminded of this. Every time you go on a ride, you’re gonna be thinking about this—about me, about the way I ruined you right here, right on your precious lil’ bike. 
“You’ll always be reminded of this.” 
You don't expect the way he mutters, all breathless off of nothing but the pleasant ache across his neck from the hickeys and your dirty, dirty words—it’s a simple, a quiet but gruff, “Good.” 
“Good?” You tip your head to the side. 
Wriothesley only huffs again, pulling you closer with the hands he's moved to your shoulders. You swear you can feel the grooves of his gloves through your own shirt. “Good,” he repeats, easy confidence dripping from his voice. (You want him to drip with something else.) “I want to remember.” 
And, really, the grin you give is downright ridiculous, this love-sick, dopey thing that has no place in such a charged environment; but Wriothesley shares it with you, your own private smiles, and then he's surging forward and pulling you down to meet him in a desperate kiss, one all tongues and teeth. 
“Now quit talkin’,” he drawls, licking at the roof of your mouth, “and make g-good on that promise.” 
“Promise?” You chuckle, dark, a play out of Wriothesley’s own book. It doesn't fit you, really—you, the epitome of a good boy, a handsome sonuvabitch who has grandmas tripping over themselves trying to marry off their granddaughters. (“Oh, isn't he charming, sweet Cecily?” 
“Grandmama, I’m a lesbian.”)
“I didn't promise you anything, Wrio,” you coo, but your mouth and hands are hardly on the same wavelength; as you tease him with your words, dripping straight sin, your hands are unbuckling the heavy metal strung across his hips, thumbing down the fly ‘til you get your fingers wedged right between his thighs. “Maybe I should have you beg, hm? Beg to be ruined right now, right here on the same bike everybody sees you ride around town in.
“Oh,” you murmur, then, an idea springing to your mind as your fingertips press to the throb of his cock even through his briefs, “isn’t that an idea?” He whimpers, the sound so soft, so—so unbecoming, if you didn't know Wriothesley the way you do. “E’rybody’s gonna see you ridin’ this, and they're not gonna have a damn clue, are they? They're not gonna know the way you spread yourself so eagerly across her pretty seats—” you tease him by calling the bike a her, knowing how peculiar Wriothesley is about personifying the thing. 
He nods, hips humping desperately into your fingers. The whole time, he's making these other soft sounds, and you're taken, over and over again, by how lucky you are to have such a strong man at your mercy. “Please,” he begs. “Quit talkin’, and fuck me.”
Snickering, you bump your palm against his mons, saying, “But you love it when I tell you all the things I’m gonna do to you.” 
Unable to even deny it, he groans, deep and throaty. “I do,” he acquiesces while you take away your hand and help lift him enough to shimmy down his jeans and boxers both, “but I’d love it better if you'd do more than just talk.” You leave the fabrics bunched mid thigh as you stand him up proper and spin him around, pressing him gently into the leather upholstery. 
It’s quick, after that, to curl over the heft of him, to nudge your fingers back down between his bare thighs to tease at this thick cock, his throbbing cunt. He's soaked, off so little, and it's easy, too, to slide in one, two, three, working him open in soft, gentle movements that stretch him without a biting burn. 
“I’m ready,” he bemoans, shimmying his hips ‘til he bumps against your own erection, tenting at your own pants. “Fuck me!” His hips move, tantalizing, teasing, and you find, unsurprisingly, that pre-cum is seeping through the fabric of your boxers. 
“Fine, fine,” you murmur, pressing your fingertips against his g-spot for the first time today, the spot swollen beneath your touch. He mewls, chasing the pleasure, and you give it to him readily as you dig your cock out from your fly, barely pushing your pants down enough to rest just past your balls. 
Now that your cock’s out, you slide your fingers from his wet, loose heat. (It never ceases to amaze you, how loose a cunt he gets when he's sufficiently aroused. He opens so easily for you, sopping off of nothing but some words, some foreplay.)
No matter how wet he is, though, you're still careful to further slick him up with lubricant. You dip into him just-so, just enough to slather his hole and cock both in lube. He starts, slightly, at the starkness of something cold against where he's most hot, most sensitive. “Ah.”
Grinning devilishly against the nape of his neck, nosing down the high leather collar of his jacket, you drag out your fingers, terribly slow; and, only when you're sure Wriothesley is well aware of just where your hand is, you slather your own hard cock with the mess of lube and his slick. 
“Ready?” 
He huffs. “I’ve been ready, babydoll.” 
You laugh at that, nudging your cockhead up and into his loose hole. The resistance is hardly evident—really, his body gives so easily for you—, your cockhead popping in in that perfectly saccharine way that always makes you groan low, makes Wriothesley whimper high in his throat.
“So open for me, babydoll,” you coo—his own word against him—, one hand dropping from his hip to brace against the seat of the bike. It hasn't gotten truly unsteady yet, but you always like to err on the side of caution when your beloved is involved. (Plus, you’re really not keen on having to buy a replacement bike for him. 
A year’s salary alone probably couldn't buy a bike as souped up as his, the years Wriothesley put into the thing paying off beautifully in the long run. That damn bike's been around longer than you’ve been his boyfriend.)
Your cock slips in quick, easy, smooth, sliding right in down to the hilt, where you pause to let him adjust to your size. And, like clockwork, he shuffles his hips side to side against your one-hand hold and breathes out a low, whistling breath, says, “Okay.” 
With that simple word—that small phrase, really—, you’re drawing your hips out slow n’ slick, the sound frankly obscene in the quiet around you. His bike doesn't so much as creak this time, either: it’s silent but swaying in time with your thrusts, barely noticeable and not at all that important, supporting the weight of you both and the heft of your next tender thrust. 
Nosing at his sweat-damp hair, you drawl, “Look’it you, sweetheart, all open n’ pliant for me on my cock. You’re takin’ it so well, pretty thing right on your pretty bike.” 
“Baby—” he starts to say something else, but he gets cut off with his own moan, your thick cock budding up against his g-spot. You feel him froth around where you're balls-deep in him, and you slide your hand from hip to mons. 
“Want my hand, Wrio?” you ask, fingers brushing the mess of black curls sprouting from between his thighs. 
He nods vehemently, his bangs splayed across his sweaty forehead. God, if anybody walked by, drove by—they’d get an eyeful of your Wriothesley, fucked silly and hot by your cock; they’d get their heart’s content of punked-out Wriothesley, leather gloves and leather jacket spread across leather upholstery, his accessorizing chains rattling off with each thrust.
But Wriothesley is yours and yours alone; you wouldn't dare share the sight with anybody else. As such, you curl yourself further over his stretch-out, prone body, breathing hotly against and moaning against the blushing shell of his ear. 
“There we go,” you murmur, taking to circling the throbbing head of his cock with a gentle finger. He mewls into the air, his head almost limp on his shoulders. “There we go.” 
“F-feels good,” he moans as he tips his head into yours. “So good.”
“Yeah?” you ask, rhetoric, switching from circling to stroking him, your pointer and middle finger lightly squeezed on either side of his straining erection, moving forwards n’ backwards in gentle undulations. You swear you can feel his heartbeat in each throb of his cock, driving you to give it to him better, sweeter. “I can feel you throb for me, sweet thing: are you already that close?”
No longer trusting his voice (which is a shame, really, considering how much you love to hear those ruined syllables pass from his lips), Wriothesley can only nod, letting his head loll even further forward ‘til he’s practically curved over the seat of the bike. You follow him all the way down: you, wrapped over his curled back; and him, head pillowed on his crossed arms. A shimmer of sweat makes itself known on the sleeves of his jacket, the leather of it catching the sun. He’s devolved to helpless moans.
While he trembles beneath you, around your cock, you hone in on that perfect angle—the angle of your fingers stroking him off, the angle of your cock bumping against the spots deep in his cunt that never fail to pull Wriothesley apart. “There we go,” you repeat, your own words coming out muddled with the pleasure threatening to pull you under, instead. “‘m gonna cum in you, gonna fill you up ‘til you can’t take anymore—y-you want that, baby? Want me to breed you while you cream my cock—”
“—yes!” His voice is shot to hell, this raspy thing that’s somehow thrice as gruff as normal and equally as hot, as absolutely, resolutely ruined. “Yes, yes! Breed me, w-wanna be bred...” He tapers off with a whimper, cunt beginning to tighten up around you as his orgasm threatens to pull him under with you—no longer just apart, but wholly wrapped in you, safe and protected. 
“Cum for me, then—mm—, Wrio, Wriothesley—”
He whimpers, again, and you barely catch a whisper of your own name in the intelligible mess before you’re cumming, too, your cock pulsing with each involuntary squeeze of Wriothesley around you. Even as blood rushes through your ears, though, you’re whispering sweet words—nasty words, each one making him whimper n’ whine—, your fingers—long-trained, by now—keep up the gentle strokes of his cock until he’s too sensitive to go on. You withdraw them slowly, even as you’re still pumping him full with cum, even as his cock is still helplessly twitching and cunt still milking you for all you’re worth.
Coming down from your highs, then, is a slow, drawn out thing. You stay seated to the hilt, but you tease at the way his cunt’s spread open around the base of your cock, your fingers coming back covered in opaque white. He whines and weakly kicks his leg back, but you only laugh, bringing his cum up to your lips, tongue darting out to lick it clean. You groan—more-so for show, to get a rise out of your boyfriend—at the taste, and he seems to finally find his voice at that.
“Quit it,” he says; and, damn, did you do a number on his voice. It seems to have dropped an octave, all syrupy-slow and gruff in that way he always gets post-coitus. “‘s nasty.”
“I’m nasty?” Laughing, you nuzzle your cheek against the back of his head, cat-like in your affections. “You begged for it.” 
Wriothesley groans. When he attempts to lean up, you help by wrapping your hands around his abdomen—surely leaving a patch of saliva somewhere on either his tee or jacket—and prop your chin on his shoulder... all while you’re still balls-deep. 
“Hi,” you say, grinning. You can feel his eye-roll. 
But he says “hi” back anyway, letting his head fall back onto your own shoulder. He tilts his face towards you and meets your gaze with a satisfied sort of smile. 
“Well?” you ask. “Did I live up to your fantasies?” 
He nods. “And more,” he adds; but then he’s pulling off of and away from your cock, leaving you no time to dwell on it. “I starkly remember you saying you would clean my bike.” 
“I did.”
“Get to it then.” 
You grumble, though, tugging him back into your with the bear hold you’ve got wrapped across his torso. “You and the bike,” you finally correct, “and you come first. C’mon.”
Whether or not you actually get to cleaning that leather upholstery, well... Wriothesley may be driving Sigewinne to school tomorrow while sitting on a barely-there, all-dried patch of his and your cum. 
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i got rlly carried away . . this was 3k words before i even knew it >< . . but: was this inbox from february? ye. does my pera anon still show their face? idk ! if ur still here, this is dedicated to u, honey <33 i know this may feel shallow of me, but i really do miss u guys when u disappear (;′⌒`)
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silkjade · 4 months
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WICKED DRAGON, LAY WASTE TO ME
⤀ synopsis: neuvillette has always been the gentlest of lovers—and so tonight you ask him not to hold back ⤀ cw: afab!reader, unprotected + rough sex, size kink, praise, overstimulation, breeding + creampie, marking, monsterfucking (dragon cock), cervix fucking, multiple orgasms, dumbification, mentions of mates, lil bit of dom!neuvi (??) but he is still sweet — mdni || ꒰ 8.4k wc ꒱ a/n: leviathan fic for leviathan neuv ( i’m not talking abt his constellation ) rbs + feedback are always vry much appreciated ♡
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“Well? What do you think?” You come home, twirling before him in a gown, different than the one you had left in. The short hem at the front lifts mischievously, teasing just a peek of what lies underneath, while the longer, flouncing layers of skirts behind you, wrap flirtatiously around your legs. Neuvillette feels his throat run dry.
“Navia and Clorinde thought it was high time I changed my look, and you know I can’t ever say no to Chioriya Boutique.” 
While he’s spent the better part of the night reviewing court documents in the parlor, you have been out with Navia and Clorinde, who he thinks have perhaps plotted to kill him. ‘Girls’ night,’ you had called it.
Draped in a vivid palette of the finest fabrics, decorated interchangeably with delicate metalwork and dainty ribbons, the blush on his pale skin is ever-present as he rakes his eyes up and down your body. The dark, patterned stockings, squeezing your thighs just enough, so that supple flesh spills obscenely over the top, the tight, whale-boned embrace of your corset, accentuating the curves of your waist, and pushing upwards the swell of your breasts…
A coy smile graces your features when you catch how his throat bobs in his silence. Giggling, you lean down, tracing the tip of your finger up the contours of his neck, skimming the gentle curve beneath his chin until you’ve tilted his gaze to yours. “Hydro dragon, hydro dragon, got nothing to say?”
How can he even think, much less find the right words to say, when the familiar scent of your perfume fills his head with indecent, lascivious thoughts? Everything about you is intoxicating, almost insidiously attractive, so would it suffice to say that he’d much rather see your pretty, new dress abandoned somewhere on the floor? 
That first pulse of arousal translates into the first twitch of his cock, and oh how he wishes to kiss away your teasing little grin, but his lust-driven eyes are drawn to the miniscule movements of your bodice sleeve, predatory as he watches how it begins to shift, ever so slowly, off your shoulders. 
“If you don’t like it, then perhaps…” You loosely roll your shoulder, letting the sleeve slide right off. “…you’d like to help me undress?”
That, he will gladly do. His hands fly to your waist, dragging you down into a straddle over his hips. 
“Temptress,” he murmurs into the skin of your neck, distracting you with a featherlight kiss as his nimble fingers waste no time in undoing the delicate clasps of your bodice, leaving the heavy outer garment to tumble off your shoulders, abandoned in a pile at your waist. 
Cool air licks at the now exposed skin, though it’s nothing compared to the warmth of his lips as he slots his mouth against yours, gently coaxing you open with a subtle swipe of his tongue. Your eyes flutter shut in honeyed complacence, allowing Neuvillette to kiss you slow and sweet; impassioned, ardent, each kiss an oath of love and longing and lust. 
Desire blooms like romaritime flowers upon water, and you just know the tension underneath his placid exterior, is ready to burst. It’s prevalent in the way his muscles grow taut, tense beneath your every touch, fighting to hold himself back as your legs squeeze around his hips. Demonstrated, again, by how he pulls apart your corset, impatient and haphazard as he unlaces each cross, before tossing it to the ground, forgotten. And of course, only you can attest to the searing sensations of his escalating kisses—gentle wisps, once faint and docile, now wanton and heated with depravity. 
You can already feel it in your chest, in your bones, in the wetness that’s begun to form between your legs; maybe it’s the anticipation, but despite the layers of clothing you’ve already shed, you find it even harder now to breathe, especially as he holds you so close, body pressed against yours, while he traces the bare curve of your neck with his lips. 
For one with such a carefully crafted visage of elegance and poise, Neuvillette becomes sloppier as his restraint fades and lust seeps through the cracks. Something about you drives him wild, draws out the more carnal side of him that he so desperately seeks to hide away from you, who he could never even dream of hurting. 
But perhaps he’s spent too much time amongst humans. Or perhaps he understands their nature more than he had initially believed, for he makes the most human mistake of all in letting his control slip—enough that his fangs graze upon your sensitive skin, sending a shiver that reaches all the way down to your core, eliciting a moan so mellifluous, he cannot help but utter a sigh of strained content as the undeniably sweet sound reaches his ears.
“If we don’t stop now, I’m afraid I won’t be able to hold back,” he mutters, tongue laving over the spot in apology. It doesn’t help that you voluntarily crane your neck, offering him even more access in your heated bliss. His fingers dig into your waist in a silent plea to still your rolling hips. 
“So don’t,” you breathe. “Don’t hold back tonight.” Desperate to have him closer, you arch into him, the loose material of his shirt firmly clasped in your hands, deepening the kiss with a quick tug, a silent request for him to let go, but he immediately halts his movements, pulling away in hesitance. 
Oh Neuvillette. Your sweet Neuvillette, who in spite of his stern exterior, is the gentlest of lovers—always so tender with you and steadfast in placing your pleasure before his. You know of his draconic origins, know that he holds back in fear of hurting you, but for all the times he’s pleased you to the fullest extent, you only wish to do the same for him.
Your hand reaches to cup his face and he leans into your familiar touch, steely eyes soft. “It’s okay, I trust you.”
It’s already difficult denying you anything on a normal basis, so how can he, now that you sit, straddled over him, determination colored in your bright eyes, and with nothing but flimsy cloth left between the two of you. His eyes linger at your chest, the scooping neckline of your lace slip doing nothing to hide the smooth crests of your collarbones, begging to be marked. 
Neuvillette sucks in a breath, and attempts to swallow his doubts, before exhaling. He can no longer ignore the tightness in his groin, and to you, it’s clear that the obvious erection poking from beneath his trousers, speaks much louder than the uncertainty storming in his eyes. Perhaps he just needs one more push…
Your fingers come to curve around the sharp lines of his jaw, unwavering as you tilt his head up into your gaze. “Don’t worry about me, I can take it.”
His heart threatens to leap out of his chest in a flash of excitement, gratitude, desire; it’s far from the first time you’ve lain together, but to choose to bear such vulnerability before him, to surrender yourself to a full-fledged dragon… He glides his hands over the round slopes of your shoulders, easily sliding off the straps of your slip as he goes. The silk garment collapses down your torso, piling atop your forgotten dress. 
“If that is truly what you wish…” He presses an openmouthed kiss to the bare skin between your breasts, and the warmth of his breath runs a chill even colder than the night air. His whispers hide a growl, and despite the blush apparent at the tips of his pointed ears, his hold on your waist tightens. One hand slides down to grasp at your rear, and you can feel him smile against your lips, the rattle of a faint chuckle rippling in his throat before your breath hitches as he picks you up in his arms, and carries you off to the bedroom. 
He sets you by your shared bed, tearing off his now wrinkled shirt, while you wriggle out of whatever’s left of your dress, until both sets of clothing are discarded somewhere on the floor, and you’re finally left in only your panties and your stockings.
Immediately, his hands find your waist, roaming up and down over your curves as he smothers you in hungry kisses, herding you along until the backs of your knees hit the edge of your shared bed. This Neuvillette nips at your bottom lip, not asking for, but demanding entrance into your mouth, and you have no choice but to let him in, what with the way he makes you whine as he sneaks his hands down to knead the globe of your ass, before lowering you onto the bed. 
The tingling sensations bloom in your stomach, buzzing with excitement while you ready yourself to surrender completely—pliant to his will, whatever it may be. Arousal swallows you like the sea and he has yet to even really touch you. Impatient, your hand wanders, though not far down enough before you’re caught in his grasp. 
“Patience…” he mutters, pinning your wrist beside your head, broad shoulders caging you in between him and the sheets. His other hand follows the natural lines of your body, tracing along the edges until he stops to fondle one of your breasts. 
It’s impossible to relax your speeding heart at this side of Neuvillette: less reserved in his touches, more candid in his wants. The untreated heat in your body makes sure to touch on every part of you, running like water through your veins, until you’re sure your dripping cunt is pulsing with a heart of its own. Unable to stand the ache any longer, you wriggle beneath him—rolling your hips and squirming until your knee unwittingly brushes against his crotch, eliciting a choked grunt from him, only slightly muffled by the fact that his teeth have dug their way into your exposed flesh. 
He immediately pulls away at the sound of your surprised yelp, eyes darting to and fro across your features in frantic search for even the smallest semblance of discomfort, completely missing the way your entire body had seemed to arch into his touch. His eyes finally settle at the light indentations now displayed upon your once unblemished skin.
“Forgive me,” he begins, “I should have been more careful.” Neuvillette is ever the gentleman, but his voice is clearly strained in a poor attempt at fighting back his instincts—instincts that demand a dragon to mark what is his. 
“There’s nothing to forgive.” A soft smile graces your lips as your hand reaches to cradle his face, curling around his jaw in hushed reassurance. It’s so easy to read the thoughts that plague him so. “It felt good, I promise.”
True to your word, his heightened senses easily pick up on the scent of pure arousal that drifts from between your legs, swirling in the air, and lulling him into a state he’s kept buried for so long, he’s unsure of whether he’d be able to hold himself back even if he wanted to. He admires your bravery for daring to poke at the slumbering beast; bravery he knows stems from a place of passion, but how can he release such inhibitions upon a mere human? So physically… fragile. 
“I meant what I said: I can take it. And I know you won’t hurt me so…” Your fingers clasp around his shoulders, pulling your lover down just far enough to whisper, low and sultry, in his pointed ear.
“Don’t you dare look down on me, o’ hydro dragon sovereign..” 
You lurch forward, manicured nails drawing light lines down his bare back, and he meets you halfway in a long, drawn out kiss. A quiet growl rumbles from deep within his throat, clearly aroused by the way you had drawled out his full title. He nips at your bottom lip, dragging out a single, short gasp before leaving to trail wet kisses down the column of your throat, never stopping until his lips hover over the very spot where he had previously made his mark. 
He doesn’t even have to touch you, just his presence, tangled with your own anticipatory excitement, invites a shudder so deep, you can feel it in your bones. The sharp edge of his fangs scrape along that still-sensitive patch of skin, lightly, as if testing the waters, though this time, he makes sure to take note of the quiver in your pretty little mewls. 
Slowly, he bites down again and a moan slips past your lips, forced out from the very depths of your chest as your fingers fly to tangle in his moonridden tresses. His hot breath seeps past the barrier of your skin, leaving every nerve privy to his effect, and combined with the building pressure, you’re left open for the stream of soft whimpers that leave the perfect ‘o’ of your parted lips. As he sinks his teeth deeper, you squeeze your eyes shut in the midst of all the pleasure.
“Do it again,” you gasp, “felt good… ”
And oh, he has absolutely every intention to, what with the way you’re putty underneath him. However, he must do something about how distracting your hands are when you tug at his hair: hard enough for him to groan with an ache so wanton, it sends tremors echoing down until his trousers feel far, far too tight. 
Neuvillette is neither here nor there when he alternates between kissing and sucking and biting at your tender flesh—anywhere is fair game when you’ve relinquished yourself to him like this. With how attentive his lips are along your body, you hardly even care for the absence of his hand when he reaches around to untie the ribbon in his hair… at least not until it’s too late and you're left bemused by the uncharacteristic display of boldness; after all, it’s all you can do when your wrists are suddenly so tightly bound overhead.
You whine as he wraps his lips around one of your nipples, suckling and swirling his tongue, while he ravishes the other between his fingers. Heat surges through you and the aching desperation congregating in your belly begins to boil; you’ve never felt so sensitive, never been more pervasive to his touch.
Inside. You need him inside of you. But with your hands currently incapacitated, you’ve no other choice except to buck into him, beckoning him with your hips in the hopes of redirecting his attention to where you throb. 
“Inside. Please. I need you. Need you inside.” 
He hums in acknowledgement of your wishes, tugging at the hardened bud with his teeth, successfully wringing another shaky cry from your throat, before he finally pulls at the delicate lace of your panties, and guides them down the length of your legs. You easily kick them off, but in his observation, his piercing gaze catches every thrum of your muscles as they tense underneath the hand that finally trails between your thighs. He drags his lithe fingers between your folds, coating them in your slick, while his thumb rubs your clit in slow, but firm, circles. 
“My apologies for the wait.” Neuvillette kisses you right above your heart, where his acute hearing easily picks up how it palpitates as he dips his fingers into your velvet walls. “Allow me to make amends, my love.”
With the way your cunt gushes so copiously, it’s easy for him to slide all the way down to the last knuckle. He flicks his wrist, pumping fast and hard, scissoring you open before slipping in a third digit, drawing out mewl after pathetic mewl, as you fail to pull yourself together. The bedsheets twist beneath your incessant movements: simultaneously squirming not only from the initial stretch, but also to feel him deeper.
The discomfort is all too familiar, but with just the curl of his fingers, it washes away into unadulterated pleasure, just as it always does. But with your arms tethered, leaving you open and powerless, everything—every touch, every twist, every curl—feels tenfold.
Plus, no one would even believe you if you were to say that the chief justice had such a playful side in the bedroom; his fingers have explored your insides far too many times for him to just miss the little spot that he definitely knows by muscle memory. Whining, you buck your hips, senselessly grinding into his hand, hoping he’d get the message, hoping he’d quell your heat right at the source. 
But something dangerous and wild and primordial shines in the blue-violet glow of his eyes. For all the times you’ve made love together, he’s never seen you like this: so desperate, so needy for him. He pinches a nipple, hard, before locking your jolting hips down; a show of strength to remind you of your place. 
“Please, more.” Your voice rises in congruence with how you struggle against your ribbon-bound wrists. His fingers tease the spot again, this time with more force, and he watches as you keen and clench around him—helpless and at his mercy. 
With a curl, his fingers crook inside your silken walls, pistoning in and out, fast and hard. Arousal continues to build, turning the low squelches into distinct suctions. Every nerve in your body is ignited, seared by the heat as he laps at the overflowing wetness that seeps out of your entrance. A satisfied purr sounds in his throat, and the vibrations dare your hips to buck in spite of the iron grip that holds you down.  
It thrills him to see you steadily fall apart like this, coming so undone before him, dissolving under the weight of your pleasure. It’s just as you had wanted. More. So you can take it, can’t you? You can take more? 
Neuvillette slots your throbbing clit into his mouth, hot tongue relentlessly striking the swollen nub with viscous lashes, while his fingers continue to bully your insides with no intention of slowing down. Sucking harder, fucking faster—you keen at the added stimulation, back arching clean off the bed in blinding pleasure, unable to do anything more than let out jagged sobs as you cum.
Your entire body grows taut as he sees you through the end of this high, before finally drawing out with one last sleight of his hand, so that his fingertips might graze along the velvet top of your walls, bidding farewell with another shudder-inducing wave of euphoria. He exits his soiled digits, clearly pleased as he inspects the amount of slick that coats his elegant hand. 
“You’re absolutely divine.” He hums whilst licking up the side of his wrist, so as not to waste a single drop of your liquid pleasure. It’s intoxicating how exquisite you are, more decadent than even the most pristine of waters. “Perhaps you’d like a taste?”
His offer is rhetorical at best, as he answers for you, already slipping his slender fingers into your open mouth, tangling them with your tongue, until the first bits of drool begin to dribble from your lips. 
He unties your wrists, releasing them from the ribbon’s hold; time and experience have proven that you’ll need something to grasp onto. In a haste, Neuvillette discards what remains of his clothes, and his cock springs forward in all its glory: long and thick, pale tip leaking and thrumming with desire. 
“You’re absolutely sure… ?” he mumbles, voice trailing off, almost embarrassed. He can no longer control the way his hips twitch in excitement, begging to bury his cock into your warmth, but for his gentle heart’s sake, he needs to hear you say it again.
You laugh out a soft ‘yes’ but just for good measure, you rake your nails down his chest, applying just enough pressure to tickle his nerves. “Use me,” you goad. “Come on. Be wicked, my dragon.” 
Neuvillette exhales, chuckling softly at humanity's arrogance. Wicked dragon. If that was what you wanted... “I wonder if you’d still say the same after I’ve finished with you.”
He pins you back down in one fell move, and aligns himself to your entrance, stopping after inserting only the tip. A delicate whimper leaves your lips as you wince at that familiarly sweet stretch, but you and your little cunt are both so eager to please—the continued arousal you churn out, weeping nonstop, and already clenching around just his cockhead. You wriggle into him, trying to fuck yourself deeper on his fat cock as you adjust to his size. 
Reaching up, you pull him into a seemingly reassuring kiss, hands smoothing over the framing pieces of his hair, before curving around his jaw. His lips follow yours, but as you pull away and the short pieces of his hair fall back into place, you notice how his slitted reptilian pupils are dilated almost round. 
“You wish for me not to hold back,” his voice comes in a low growl as he inches further into your cunt, “so please show me how resilient you are.”
It’s all the warning you receive before he slides the rest of his length to the hilt, burying himself in your creamy insides. A shattered sob tears through the room, and your arms fly around his neck in a desperate attempt to anchor yourself, but it only pulls him closer as he leans more of his weight into you, pressing down and reinforcing the heavy plow of his merciless hips. 
Taking him all at once like this burns like wildfire. Pain from the sudden, rough stretch spreads hot and fast, the small embers bursting into a blaze of arousal as pleasure breezes through just as quickly—like air infinitely adding to an already devouring flame. 
“You’re taking me so well,” he praises, turning his head to reward a small kiss to your cheek. Your hole gushes, rushing to quell the heat, and the added lubrication helps you settle into his pace. Still, the dual sensations wash over you like the tide. It pulls you under, drowns you and consumes you with absolute ecstasy.
And just when you think you’ve grown accustomed, Neuvillette lifts your hips, aiming for the spot he knows will drag out the most wonderfully broken cries from your throat. Your nails dig into his back, and he groans at the vice grip as you clamp down around his cock. With each powerful thrust, he buries himself balls deep with a force that has your tits bouncing along to his rhythm, letting the wanton sound of your sobs ring throughout the room, loud enough to almost drown out the lewd noise of skin slapping upon skin. 
The coil in your belly is wound so tight that you’re sure it won’t be long until it collapses into itself. That it won’t be long until you yourself are about to implode, like a star ready to burst. 
“I’m going… going to…” Between the ragged breaths and the overwhelming sensations of ecstasy, you can’t even find it in yourself to think straight.
Neuvillette hums, his liquid smooth voice doing nothing to hide his amusement. “You’d do well not to break so soon.”
He thumbs your clit, drawing tight circles, ignoring the way you convulse beneath him. As your back arches, he drags the flat of his teeth from the edges of your collarbones, down through the valley between your breasts. 
Your entire body quivers, legs jolting by reflex to the intensity of your orgasm, vision blurring white as your lover continues to pound relentlessly through your high. There’s a layer of fuzziness over your mind that leaves you feeling as if you’re floating atop calm waters, but the fingers still thrumming on your abused nub are quick to drag you back into the salaciously dangerous depths of your own pleasure. 
A string of pitched whines follow in the aftermath, but the pretty noises you make has him throbbing even from within your tight hole. You ask him not to hold back, yet here you are before him, so small and pitiful, already writhing from the intensity—and he hasn’t even cum yet. 
Tears threaten to fall from your eyes, your body struggling for a break from the stimulation, but Neuvillette finds it quite adorable, in the way that a predator might toy with its prey. He slows his thrusts, but reaches deeper with every roll of his hips, each languid stroke hitting the exact spot that fills your sight with stars. 
The lascivious sounds of your soaked cunt perfectly swallowing his cock, followed by the slap of his heavy balls on your ass—he’s mesmerized by the way he disappears and reappears, and disappears again inside of you. His heart skips, and he bucks, breaking his rhythm. You undo him like no other, and it spurs him on that he too, seems to have the same effect on you. The way your pussy holds on to him so tightly, the helpless cries of his name amidst your hiccuped whimpering… 
He lets out a small chuckle, breath hot and ragged in your ear as he sucks at the inch of skin below. “Surely you can give me another,” he murmurs, the low grumble of his voice reverberating all the way down, until you can feel the vibrations in the hollows of your collarbone. 
Your eyes flutter, desperately blinking away the wetness that has begun to gather at your lash line. Sweet Neuvillette, your Neuvillette who reveres you more than he ought to and touches you like you’re made of glass. Even through the numbing haze, you know that for him, you’d give anything. 
A long, stuttered moan breaks out from between your lips. As if biding his time, he drags the entirety of his cock along your walls, the large vein that wraps around the length gliding along just right, that your back arches and your knees bend. It’s not that he means to move so tortuously slow, but you squeeze him to such an extent that in spite of his aching need to cum, he cannot help but try and savor the delicious way your walls are gripping for dear life. 
Neuvillette pulls out with the sticky squish of your slick. His throbbing cock, long and flushed, glistens with the sheen of your juices. In the emptiness, you think that perhaps he’s taken pity on you and your now overly sensitive cunt, but that just isn’t fair. Not to him, nor you and your once again looming orgasm.
“You haven’t even cum yet,” you gasp, trying to argue through baited breath. The whole point of this was so that he could feel just as good as he always made sure you did. So why would he—
“I know.” 
You can feel him as he lifts you, flipping you over like you’re nothing more than a doll, and manhandles you onto all fours. Limbs weak, mind frazzled, you’re barely able to hold yourself up, so when he realigns himself at your entrance and slams back through your folds with just as much power as before, you quite literally fall apart. 
“Too much?” The low chuckle in your ear is dangerously taunting, wickedly amused and with no sign of its usual sweetness. You’re able to muster a pitiful whine, but the way your entire body trembles tells him everything he needs to know, as he reangles you mid-thrust.
“I believe you said you could take it.” With a particularly powerful snap of his hips, your arms buckle, and you collapse onto the mattress. The intensity continues to send you jolting forward, but his reaffirmed grip on your waist holds your hips in place.
Nothing deters him as he ruts into you, hitting deep new angles that have your fingers grasping at the sheets while your cunt grasps onto his cock. With every slap of his skin against yours, his tip threatens to kiss your cervix, the aftershocks rippling through you until they’re released as broken sobs, muffled into the bed. 
How unfortunate that such noises, so very sweet to his ears, would be hidden from the world. Tangling his fingers along your scalp, Neuvillette tugs at your hair, lifting your head back so as to hear the pretty melody you sing when your cries ring around the room. Good. Just as the whole of Fontaine should recognize a dragon’s mark on your skin, they too should hear it’s he who pleasures your body so.
Little bits of drool trickle out of your open mouth, your eyes rolling back as he keeps up the brutal pace. Everything feels too overwhelming, yet so tantalizingly good, that your back curves and you’re creaming around him again. 
Electricity shoots through your veins, your lungs desperately racing to catch up with the rapid beat of your heart. The stars painted across your vision drop down to your stomach, exploding with an intensity that rattles you to your core. It’s a flood with no remorse—taking and leaving nothing in return, easily washing away any and all thoughts, until you’re left mewling the name of the only one who could ever give you such a sweet taste of heaven. 
But Neuvillette continues to thrust into you, and as he, too, nears his peak, his tireless strokes finally melt into something a little more forgiving. Just a little. The long drag of his cock slides so smoothly against your slick walls, gentle enough to fool your delirious mind into loosening your grip around him. 
What trickery from the wicked dragon who slams his hips forward with enough force so that your body jostles with every push and pull as he hits all the right spots again and again. Trapped under the weight of his body, all you can do is feel: the heat of the room smothering all your senses, the fervorous thrusts pushing you to your very limit—all you can do is feel and take it as he kisses the spongy head of your cervix, leaving you without a semblance of sanity, blabbering indiscernible nothings that beg to milk him dry.       
“Want more,” you keen, voice as broken as the crystalline tears that roll down your cheeks and melt into the pillows. “Inside. Wan’ it inside.”
Neuvillette laughs, low and airy, strained as his grip tightens, fingertips digging into your hips hard enough that it’d be sure to leave bruises come the morrow. “Is that what you want?”
“Please, please I–” You stop to let out something between a pant and a moan. “Want you to, h-hah, cum inside, wan’ your cum inside me.” Your walls clamp down even harder, as if attempting to trap his cock deep inside you forever, as if you weren’t already tight enough around him. 
White fills his vision, and white fills your womb as Neuvillette cums to the knowledge that you love this. He takes in the sight of you, his precious treasure, now reduced to the likes of a common whore: legs quivering, ass in the air, cunt filled to the brim and leaking from where the two of you merge. All for him. By his doing. 
Such splendor automatically evokes the instinct to claim you in a way far beyond that of human understanding… but you’ve already let him indulge more than enough tonight; he couldn’t possibly ask for more. 
You whimper when you feel him stir again inside you, careful as he brushes past your too-sensitive folds, but even such simple movements hazard to relight the flicker of arousal once again. Every ridge and vein, drawn out so agonizingly slow, sends an inadvertent shiver down your spine until he finally pulls out with a squelch.  
There’s no hope in tearing those sharp, reptilian eyes away from your puffy cunt, abused and messy and leaking with your combined fluids. Neuvillette sucks in a breath, trying to suppress his urges as much as he’s trying to swallow down the desire quickly boiling over in his belly again. Cumming inside you—no, breeding you—was a privilege. For dragons such as he, it’s a ritual reserved only for mates, and given the difference in your physiology, he had never allowed himself to do so—at least not until now, that is. 
In his defense, you had begged for it, and how could he ever deny the very one whom he has entrusted his heart to—especially when you were so beautifully fucked out and unraveled on his cock like that. And perhaps he’s lived among humans long enough to forgive this indulgence as a paradigm of fleeting desire, though nothing of what he feels for you could ever be considered fleeting. 
He parts your folds with two slender fingers, giving himself a better view as his cum now seeps out with suent access. You whine again when you feel him drag his digits down the sides of your pussy lips, catching the overflow before it can fall onto the sheets, and stuffing it right back into your little hole. No point in stopping now, if he’s already committed his sin.
From your half-lidded gaze, you manage to steal a glance at your lover, and judging from the erection that still stands stiff as a rod, he has yet to be satiated. In the attempt to break through the shadow of delirium, you lift your head, shifting your weight back onto your elbows, and forcing your battered body to turn just the slightest bit over. 
“You’re still hard,” you note through staggered breath, “We can go again if you want.”
Neuvillette looks down as if he hasn’t already been feeling the near painful arousal throbbing in his groin. Of course he’s still hard—how could he not be; you’re so complacent before him, offering yourself to him like that. But perhaps he is too soft-hearted, for he only lets out a reassuring hum as he leans forward to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. 
“You were beyond perfect tonight,” he murmurs. “It… might not be pleasurable for you if I continue anymore. I can finish myself.” 
Lovestruck, you shake your head. “I can take it r’member?” Your large eyes, red-rimmed and dreamy, plead for him to use you—use you to his own content, use you so that he’d feel just as good as he always makes you feel. You nibble at your bottom lip, bashful. “You can even use your other form if you'd like...” 
Your words catch him off guard, and he immediately stills in a half-hearted attempt to collect himself as another wave of pure, unadulterated desire pulses through his entire being. Neuvillette swallows hard before letting out a slow, shaky breath. His cock twitches and his muscles tense beneath the creamy skin that now seems to gleam with a soft shine, revealing scattered patches of effervescent cerulean scales. You affect him more than you could possibly know, revitalizing such carnal urges that ignore his will and allow his body to react so enthusiastically.
“You’re sure…?” His normally polished tone is husked in a defiant strain. Despite the way his pupils are blown wide and wild with lust, conflict still swims in the shallows of his expression, made clear by the way his voice rasps as he desperately claws to retain even a semblance of his composure. 
The tips of your fingers trace the blue streaks that protrude from the crown of his silver head, now hardened into twin ribbons of ivory; his horns, delicate but strong, glow a luminescent azure—so warm and inviting in its radiance… You grasp them tight, pulling him down with you, as you fall back into the bed, his lips pressed against yours. Of course you’re sure. He’d never hurt you, your Neuvillette would never ever hurt you.
“Devious…” he whispers between kisses, your tongue and teeth clashing in a waltz of their own, as his body drapes over yours. 
It’s not the first time you’ve seen him in this form, crossed somewhere between a human and a dragon, as beautiful as he is powerful. But it’s certainly the first time you’ve ever attempted to take him like this. He’s bigger in this form—you can already feel it as he grinds up between your legs. Longer. Thicker. Ribbed and embossed with the same pearlescent blue scales. Beautifully intimidating, just like the dragon sovereign himself. 
And as you continue to marvel, he lets his cock rest across your lower stomach, sizing you up. His fervor shines through in the way he’s already leaking a mess of sticky precum atop the smooth skin of your belly. A satisfied hum vibrates in his throat, clearly enthused. 
“This is how deep I’ll be,” he muses, almost apologetic of the incoming stretch you’d have to endure. “I’m beginning to wonder if I can even fit inside you.” 
Would it be wicked of him to admit, even to himself, that he enjoys the way you wriggle and cry just taking him in his human form? And yet… he’s forced to steady his breathing in a poor attempt at grounding himself—a task near impossible as you roll your hips up, ardently shaking your head no, outright ignoring the last out he offers.
“I will… make it fit.” They’re the last words you manage to wrangle out before being overtaken by the need to be full and filled. There’s no reason you should be so terribly, terribly hollow, when he’s right there. Neuvillette chokes back a laugh; your unyielding determination sends blood rushing to his erection, desperate to feel your velvet walls crowd around him again.
Finally relenting, he teases your entrance—running his cock up and down your slit, spreading your wetness, before slapping your clit with the tip—reminding you just how sensitive you still are. Gasping, you jerk away from the stimulation that once again taunts your nerves. Your hole, however, clenches around nothing, eager to please. 
But perhaps you’ve greatly underestimated just how big he is, because he barely makes it past the threshold of your folds, before the pleasure pain of the stretch begins to take over. That, and the overstimulation from your previous orgasms, already have you instinctively trying to snap your legs shut, but the firm hold on your thighs forbid you from doing so.
“Ha-ah N-neuvi—” A twisted sense of pride swells in his chest at the way you can hardly speak as your breath hitches and your lungs desperately search for air. “’s too big,” you sob.
He gives you a momentary reprieve to adjust, while his hand snakes down to run sloppy circles over your clit.
“More?” he whispers. 
It takes you a minute to respond, but he waits until finally your voice shakes with the violence of each hiccupped sob. “More.. please…”
A baritone hum sounds in his throat as he pulls forward, pressing wet kisses to your jaw in a quiet reassurance, effectively sliding a couple inches deeper, as he does so. “You can take it, my love. You’re so pretty like this.”
Your arms wrap around his neck, your hold eliciting a long, low groan from the dragon. Wherever you squirm, he follows, pressing more of his weight onto you, burying more of his cock into you. Each ridged inch that slides past your folds, seems to push the thoughts right out of your head, letting them dissipate into thin air until you’re left mindlessly moaning sweet praises to his name. 
Desperate to accommodate the unfamiliar enormity of his dragon cock, your walls ripple and tense around him, back arching into him, wanting to feel ever closer to the love of your life, determined to push your cunt to its limit for him. For your Neuvillette. 
Neuvillette. Neuvillette. Neuvillete. He’s all you can think about; him and his monster cock that seems to split you so deliciously open. It’s wave after wave of heat that sets your insides ablaze, soothed by the waters of arousal that have you begging for more, and restarting the cycle until he finally bottoms out, and you feel as if you’ve been electrified. You squeeze your eyes shut, but with the way his bulbous tip prods at your cervix, your mind goes blank, and the tears fall regardless. 
“There…” you pant, eyes glassy from the euphoria of feeling so incredibly full. “’s all in.”
“Yes,” he praises, softly. “Look at you, so nice and tight for me.” 
He wipes the salt from your cheeks, distracting you with a delicate kiss. His fangs are more prominent in this form; you can feel them as he grins against your lips, whilst whispering breathy nothings that tell of how good you are for him, how perfect, how he should be so lucky to have you like this, to have you as his. 
When your body eases enough, he pulls away, though the subtle shift of his cock still drags a pitched whine out from your lips. If he’s to be honest, he cannot tear his gaze from where the two of you are joined. It’s mesmerizing, hypnotic, to see how he splits you open, to feel how you mold into the shape of him, to imagine just how much your little cunt had to stretch so that he might rest comfortably inside.
Though, comfortable might be an overstatement due to the way your muscles tense and release so tightly around him, clamoring for more of his attention.  Eyes darkening with lust, Neuvillette smooths a hand over your abdomen, cerulean scales cold upon your skin.
“Can you feel me right…” He draws a clawed finger delicately across the skin of your belly, where his cock rests parallel underneath. “Here…”
He leaves more than just a faint line of red where his talon rakes. Yes, you want to say. You can feel the faint prickle of his claw on your skin, you can feel how the sharpness sends a shiver ringing through your body, and of course you can feel how he’s sheathed his dragon cock right into the very depths of your cunt, deeper than anyone’s ever been, deeper than he’s ever been… But the only sounds that spill through your lips are another stream of broken sobs, fever touched by how close you are to cumming just from being filled.
“Go on, darling. Cum for me.” He can feel you pulsing around him, clenching and unclenching in search of sweet release, yet he makes no additional moves to help you, leaving you to your own devices.
At this point, you can no longer tell if you’re making things better or worse, as every little movement knocks you into reaction—like dominoes toppling over until every piece of you has been unraveled. You writhe atop the soiled sheets for any sort of friction, but it’s too much when his tip knocks against the entrance to your womb. So you shift away, letting the ridges on his shaft graze against your syruped walls, inciting another wave of need. The scales continue to tip between ‘too much’ and ‘more’, until you finally work yourself into a delirious orgasm, on nothing but his cock inside you and your own incessant squirming. 
As you continue to ride out your high, Neuvillete finally begins to move, tearing himself away from your fluttering vice grip with a tremulous moan, because fuck you’re still so tight around him, still so warm and wet even after cumming for what? The fourth time tonight? Pressure lands heavy over your frame as he begins to rock into you, folding you in half as he does. 
He fucks you slow and even, stretching you out even more with every new stroke. Your mouth drops open in a silent scream as this new position affords him the privilege to reach impossibly deeper. Despite his shallow thrusts, each drag of his cock still blooms an ache from all the hidden spots that he has no choice but to touch, though it’s quick to pass, as pleasure continues to coil in your belly. 
It’s so much all at once. You can’t take it, it’s too much. But the soul-shattering euphoria of being so utterly full, is unparalleled. You want more, you need more.   
“My pearl,” he whispers, though his voice is gruff, “my heart… I want to hear you.” 
And so you oblige him, wailing something broken and pitched and strangled, at the sudden snap of his hips, at the way he bumps into your cervix and seems to rattle your organs about. 
“F-fuck,” you cry, without thinking. Not that you can anyway, when the push-pull tide of his thrusts raises you to new heights of delirium. “H-ah god, fuck Neu–”
Another sharp, jutting thrust cuts you off as the dragon above you snarls, clearly agitated by your crass choice of words. “There are no gods to help you here.” Not in Fontaine where he rules, and certainly not here in his home.
There’s a feral wildness that shines in his bright vishap eyes, and his possessive streak flares—dragons have no natural inclination to share after all. It’s clear in the way his pace changes: faster, harsher, more ragged—a ferocity befitting of an elemental dragon ruler. But titles aside, he’s still your Neuvillette, and every move he makes is still laced with a tenderness, so as not to break you more than he already has. 
“Tell me you’re mine,” he commands, dragging his tongue up the length of your throat.
“Yours. ‘m yours, Neuvillette.”
In and out, in and out. His long strokes guide the ridges of his cock back and forth through your tender muscles, leaving you to mumble mindless nonsense as you convulse and keen beneath him. Whatever pain you had felt earlier has long chipped away into undeniable pleasure as you near the precipice of yet another orgasm. Eyes glazed over in all consuming ecstasy, all you know to do is to chase your lust, and so your hips grind back, rolling together like waves in a storm. 
Amidst the flagrant wet sounds of your rabid fucking, you cum again, lashes fluttering as your eyes roll, muscles tight as they tremble from such rapture—so lovely, so beautiful. Your siren call of pretty cries spill from your lips, intermingled with weak babbles of his name. You’re so breathtaking like this in your post-climax haze: fucked out and cloudy-eyed, panting into the cool air as his slowed thrusts still rack up an aftershock of shudders.
Neuvillette bows his head, once again trailing wet kisses across your collarbones, before pausing to hover his lips right over the juncture of your neck and shoulder, his warm breath a familiar spot of comfort in this maddening pleasure. Perhaps it’s some sort of sixth sense unique to only the most attuned of lovers, ones whose souls seem to harmonize in perfect resonance, but there’s hesitance in the way he suckles at the spot, fangs ghosting over your tender skin.
“S’okay… you can do it.” Your soft, dreamy sighs of approval are accompanied by the languid tilt of your neck, jeopardizing more of your delicate skin to the dangers of his teeth. “You can mark me… w’nna be your mate…”
Choking back a moan, Neuvillette pistons thrice more into your cunt—pulling out until just his tip remains, and then plunging back into your gooey insides, sending you into another round of dizzying convulsions. His own orgasm follows, seeing stars as he places an amorous bite to the crook of your neck using only the flat of his teeth. 
With how deep he’s buried, ribbons of his cum shoot right into your womb, spilling out into every cavity, and painting your interior white. Warmth blossoms from the inside out. Your heart is full, mumbling happy nothings of ‘mates’ in between sniffles, while a creamy ring forms around the base of his cock, thick liquid oozing from where he ends and you begin. His own chest rises and falls in jagged patterns, but his only want is to seek your lips, to drink in your mewls, and exchange sweet kisses, so that your soul and his, may meld together as they dance in the shape of your breaths intertwined.
He strokes your hair, planting easy kisses all around as he unplugs himself, letting loose the flood of cum that seeps out of your hole, but you whine at the loss, wanting nothing more than to be ever close to your newly consummated mate. Neuvillette only nuzzles into your neck, deep purrs of content reverberating from his chest as he lazily rubs his scent all over you. Meanwhile, a quick swish of his sapphire tail up the sticky underside of your thigh, teases another pulse from your cunt, and by reflex, you push out another dollop of white. 
A small tap tap to his shoulder distracts him from his scenting, and he looks up with a tilt to his head and a small furrow to his brow, his normally sharp eyes full of earnest concern, relaxing only once he finishes reading through the bleary, dulcet tones of adoration that glow in your half-lidded eyes. You poorly suppress your little giggles—although he often disagrees, your lover really can be quite adorable. 
Fontaine’s Iudex Neuvillette is elegant, poised, and meticulously polished… but here in the quiet night hours, in the privacy of your hearth, your Neuvillette is unruly-haired and damp-skinned from satiating the beastly desires of his still tender heart. You reach out a tired arm, first brushing back the pieces of hair that cling to his skin, then wrapping your palm around to cup his face. 
“Was I a good mate?” Your hand slips down from his cheek to play with the tips of his silvery hair. “W’nna be the best for you.”
“You already are the best for me.” His hand, no longer clawed nor scaled, brings yours back up for a kiss to your knuckles. “The only one for me.” 
He rolls off of you, sweeping you into his embrace, as he carries you off to the bathroom. Your head rests heavily against his chest, but your happy hums and quiet murmurs of ‘good,’ tell him that you have not drifted off into slumber just yet.  
“You truly are a wonder,” he breathes, dipping his head to place a soft kiss to your forehead. “And it would be my honor to have you as my mate… but not tonight.”
His instincts had urged him to do it, to permanently claim you as his, and mark you as a dragon would, but his heart vehemently disagrees. The most sacred bond known to his kind is an ultimatum in your relationship, and it is one he refuses to be the sole architect of, so perhaps the two of you can revisit this conversation again once you’re more clear-headed; his answer would remain the same anyways.
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a/n2: writing this took years off my life, but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless ! as always, thank u sm for reading, and reblogs + feedback are very much appreciated ♡
© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform
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hwaitham · 6 months
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𝓯𝓸𝓷𝓭𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝓫𝓪𝓫𝔂 𝓭𝓸𝓵𝓵 𓈒 ˖ ࣪ 𝜗𝜚 ‎
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wriothesley x sub!f!reader . nsfw — mdni . rewrite + repost from old blog ノ established relationship ノ daddy kink ノ breeding ノ oral [ m -> f ] ノ dirty talkin' ooo finger suckin' ooooo (๑ ˃̵͈́ᵕ˂̵͈̀ ) ノ infantilization + mindbreak ノ praise ノ lotsa petnames [ babydoll + little girl + princess + sweetheart + baby ] ノ sappie wuvie dovie sex bcos ! ! well :3 it's me !
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the fortress of meropide’s pankration ring is vacant now— three hours after the stronghold’s annual boxing spectacle, two hours after champagne showers, one hour after all the prisoners and gardes have made their way back to their sleeping quarters.
the fortress of meropide’s pankration ring is vacant now, nearly— it’s pitch black, nearly, save for the warm yellow flickers of the half-functioning light fixture hanging above the ring’s canvas, the image it casts on the rusty steel walls of two bodies pressed together.
a dancing shadow of your back curling into a perfect arch off the floor, the tilts and turns of wriothesley’s head as he fervently suckles on your clit with alcohol-stained lips, the heels of your frilly-socked feet digging further into his shoulder blades, toes wriggling within the lavender fabric.
“daddy—!”
“pussy tastes so good—”
“pleasepleaseplease— won’t last if you keep— h-huuughh…”
“so fuckin’ sweet— shit, babydoll.”
it’s not like your lover to dirty talk you like this— obscenely and unabashedly and so greedily— licking and sucking and slurping and huffing, blunt nails digging into the plush of your thighs, past the white stockings he’s fortuitously torn off your legs where he now leaves little mauve moons upon your skin.
your lover is usually all grunts and groans and whines that get tangled in his throat— but you adore it when he gets like this. you adore it when he gets all touchy and clingy and desperate for your love after he’s knocked back a couple drinks, you adore the carnivorous growl in his voice when he tells you, fuck, princess, need you so bad, you adore the shower of praise and kisses and bold touches where his heart lies in his fingertips and he smudges lines of pink and red all over your flesh.
“pretty little pussy’s all mine… look at you, sweet thing practically drooling for daddy, yeah?” wriothesley moans, speaking more to your cunt instead of you, and pulls away, slick strung in a thin ribbon that connects his lip to the pearl of your clit. he watches how your hole twitches and clamps around air as it searches for something that only he can give you— hungry and ready with how much of your sticky cream oozes from it and drips down the globe of your ass, soaks the silk of his scarlet boxing robe that you lay atop of.
and your daddy’s right— it is practically drooling, so pathetically leaking for him. 
“fuckin’ gorgeous.”
a glob of saliva builds under his tongue at the sight, and he gathers it in the purse of his lips before spitting it out onto your pussy, watching the frothy bubbles cling to your skin, laughing lowly when you begin to whimper and writhe beneath him, knead biscuits on his chest in a weak attempt to push him away.
“daddy, ‘s embarrassing when you look, o-oh—!” your protests are shushed when he collects the stringy mixture of his spit and your slick from your pussy and moves back up to meet your lips, kiss you messily.
“ah, ah, ahhh… don’t get all shy on m’now, sweetheart.”
the peach champagne on his tongue hits you after the sugary saltiness of your release, and evidently, you realize he must be drunk by the slur of his words, the greedy paws that cup your pussy, and then grab at your hips, your waist, your breasts.
a sharp glint of bright white has one of your eyes squeezing shut when wriothesley shifts to look down at you, his smile nothing short of beguiling. his frame is wide— broad shoulders and a strapping chest and sinewy arms that you’re caged under, the gold of the medal hanging loosely off his veiny neck reflecting the light from above.
and, oh, wriothesley thinks you look so pretty when the heavy metal thuds against your cheek amidst his soft swaying— he thinks you’ll look even prettier with his victory wrapped around your neck, because what’s his is yours, yours is his; you belong to him and he belongs to you.
he wouldn’t have it any other way.
bringing the gold up to his lips, he places a sweet kiss on it, lowering the medal back down to you so you can place another one right on top of his, baritone voice losing it’s primal growl and replaced with something more silky, loving. “fuck, couldn’t have won this without you.”
your fingers scrabble at one of wriothesley’s hands, holding it tight to your chest— to your heart— because you think the sheer sincerity in his voice is enough to have you losing balance and falling into an abyssal love. but that’s okay, that’s where you belong, deep, drowning in it, because you love him, you love him, you love him.
“love you, i love you, daddy— so, so much; love you forever…”
and the fortress’ duke thinks you just might kill him, with that admission.
with that milky, fuzzy, adoring look in your eyes, and how you press his palm to your heart, serve him your entire soul on a diamond-embedded platter— it cuts into his chest and carves deep into his flesh. your words are flames, and they are but dew on his skin, soothing and healing. 
something knots in his throat; and all of a sudden he feels overwhelmed— by the rush of alcohol in his blood, by how sweet you’re being for him, by the painful ache of his leaky cock as he slides the length up and down your folds, each of his movements decorated by a tiny whimper that’s pried from your throat.
“fuuuuck, haha— love your daddy that much, huh? well, i love you, princess. love you even after forever.” wriothesley hunches over so close to you, cupping your cheeks with such delicate care— as if you’re crafted from the finest porcelain— before he kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you, shoving an eternity’s worth of promises and secrets down into your lungs.
he pulls back shortly thereafter to admire your kiss-swollen lips, wiping the pearls that dew at your lashes from just how achingly painful your weeping cunt feels— from how awfully you need to have your daddy inside you.
“inside— nghhh, wanna feel you inside, wanna—”
“i know, i know, but can you be a big girl ‘nd wait a little longer? can y’do that for daddy?” he shushes you with a sweet coo and prod of his thumb at the swell of your bottom lip, gathering the drool that sits there, before you obediently take the digit into your mouth. his cock jumps against your clit and wriothesley doesn’t realize that his mouth has been watering at the show you’ve been putting on for him until a drop of spit lands on your shoulder— your smaller fingers lightly wrapping around his wrist to hold his hand in place, sucking and swirling your tongue around his thumb, licking the tip repeatedly and hollowing your cheeks, giving his thumb the same attention and care you would his cock.
“a-awhhh, shit— you’re such a good girl, mhm?”
your hips grind up mindlessly against your lover’s cock at his praise and your mind fogs up in submission, taking the digit deeper, deeper, suckling and licking until you’re drivelling spit down your chin, giggling stupidly and coating his heart in fondant. “mhmmm, hehe—! wanna be your good girl, daddy…”
“yeah? archons, you’re so cute,” he chuckles with you, shaking his head at how you’ve already gone featherbrained from so much as a mere suckle of his finger, pinching your cheek softly within his thumb and forefinger. “gonna put it in now, ‘kay? gonna give you your cock ‘nd you’re gonna take it; like my good little girl.”
with his free hand, he holds the heavy weight of his cock in the palm, tapping it over your clit and thumbing at his slit to coax more pre out from it, using the glossy cream to lubricate you further as he slowly pushes his aching, flushed tip past the tight ring of muscle lining your entrance. there’s a lewd, wet pop that follows when he gets his bulbous head settled in between your sticky walls, and he can’t suppress the noise— something in between a groan and laugh— that escapes him.
“fuuuck me, y’hear that?” squelch, squelch, squelch. “haha, that’s my liquid luck.”
“uh huh, ‘s yours, daddy— ‘s all yours, i’m all youuurs,” your voice comes out as a sweet, broken keen, one that dizzies wriothesley and has blood flooding his cock.
“a-ah, you’re gonna be the death of me, i swear…” his breathing picks up as he shallowly thrusts himself deeper into your cunt— it hugs him like a vice— like it loves him, his cock, like it wants to milk it dry. 
and without warning, he sinks fully inside of you until he’s buried deep in your sopping cunt— it’s a perfect fit. where his oozing tip is pressed up snugly against your cervix, every ridge and vein hitting all the right spots that line your walls. 
you drawl out a pitchy whine of his designation at the sudden split of his cock, hiccuping on your breath as he leans his whole weight on you and pushes your thighs back to meet your chest until the backs of your knees land on his shoulders, hips gyrating to grind his pubic bone down on your puffy bud. it soothes the sharp tremors of pain ripping through your core, washing them over with waves of pleasure, and you can only arch your chest up into his almost instinctually, fingers finding his face to trace sloppy stars over high-set cheekbones. 
“daddy, daddyyyy, i wanna k-kiss…”
your boyfriend smiles adoringly in response, not ignoring the heavy throbs and twitches of his cock within your drooling cunt at how fucking stunning you look underneath him: pouty and glassy-eyed as you weakly tug him closer by the lanyard of his medal, all ditsy and limbs pliable like the sweet little baby doll of his that you are, head near empty with nothing but daddy, daddy, daddy on your brain.
wriothesley finds himself unable to do anything but indulge your desperation, brushing his lips against yours softly— once, twice, until he feels your velvety breath settle in his lungs, and then he’s left craving more. 
“ohhh, baby, so tight.” his hips begin to rock against yours, and with each drag of his fat cock along your gummy walls, a hot knot begins to boil in the pit of your stomach. 
your lips break free from wriothesley’s when his thumb finds your clit, feeling him trace his name over the sensitive nub, gazing up at him through your dumbed out doe eyes, tongue caught in between your teeth in a dreamy little smile. because he looks so handsome like this, so, so gorgeous with raven and sleet slicked back by his fingers and the small strands that bounce and fall and curl around the pinch of his brows— it’s like he’s made of stardust and moonshine and tufts of clouds from the celestial skies.
“you won me this gold medal, what d’you wan’ in return? a ring? fuck— i’d give you the whole universe if you asked. put the fuckin’ oceans in the sky for you.”
an erotic mewl escapes you from how romantic he’s being and you’re almost certain he doesn’t realize the effect his champagne-kissed words have on you— your toes curl and hips grind up mindlessly into his, pussy throbbing on his cock when your clit brushes against the cream-frosted hairs at the base.
the hard clamp of your walls peels a low groan from him, head hanging low and medal gently slapping your cheek with each slow, deep stroke, “s-shit, you like that, huh? tell me what you want, sweetheart—"
“want your cum— want it inside— in here,” you cut him off with needy babbles as you bring his palms to your tummy, laying them gently over the love bites that scatter your flesh likes the stars scatter the night sky— an eternal reminder that you’re his. “please, pretty pleaseee— wanna make you a papa— mhnn!” 
and then he’s plunging into you deeper than ever before, cutting your words short, breaking them off into pitchy little pants as he presses his crotch flush against your messy, web-coated folds and swirls the tip of his dick deliciously over that one spongy spot where you’ve been needing to feel him the most.
“awh, you wanna make me a daddy? but i already am one, aren’t i?” he teases, runs his knuckles under your jaw and tugs on the plump of your lip with his teeth.
flustered by his words, you whine, shake your head petulantly and try to hide your face from him with the back of your hand. squeeze your eyes shut bashfully. melt his heart into icing and frost cupcakes with it. “nuh uhhh, you know ’s not what i mean…”
it’s staggering— how adorable you’re being for him, with your sweet pleas and darling little whines, he can’t help but huff out a growl through gritted teeth before leaning down to gather your lips in a kiss; it’s filled with so much love and so much fervour when he swallows your pretty cries with his tongue in your mouth and, fuck, he’s certain that even the mere thought of stuffing you full of his seed is enough to bring him down to his knees.
“perfect— you’re my perfect little doll, yeah? gonna make you a mother, gonna make you my wife, gonna make you the happiest girl alive.” 
and it’s all so much, too much, the thumb he has pressed flat against your tongue to pacify your sobs, the promises he washes your tears away with, the sound of gold thudding harshly against the canvas of the floor when he thrusts into you at a different angle— one that has the tip of his cock knocking at the sponge of your cervix in a way where your hips rock up into his own. “daddydaddydaddy, please, ‘m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cuuuum—!”
“my sweet girl’s already fucked silly? got nothin’ but cock on your little brain, uh huh?”
“uh huh, uh huhhhh— wan’ daddy’s cock, wan’ daddy’s cum, wanna— mmph!”
your mindless babbling pulls a harsh guttural noise deep from wriothesley’s stomach, his vision doubling at the shaky lilt to your voice, at the manicured nails that dig into his biceps and claw red wings there— an eternal reminder that he’s yours. “oh, baby, that’s it, there you go— c’mon, be a big girl and cum all over my cock.” 
“n-no! nonono, wanna cum with youuu—” you cut him off with a sharp keen, wailing out when you feel him start to thrust harder, faster, pearls of your slick and his pre spluttering out to fall as dewdrops on your thighs. doing your best to wrap your arms around his neck amidst the jostles of your body, you pull wriothesley in closer, closer, until his lips meet yours and there’s no space for air between the two of you. 
he can’t help but crumble to ashes as you weep into the kiss, as you cling to him— it’s heart-wrenchingly cute how badly you need him. your slurred whimpers of, daddy, daddy please cum— wan’ it in me f’ever, remind him of just how much he loves you, so much, it reminds him that he is the only one for you in this timeline and every other, he is the only one that can ever make you feel this way— and, fuck, it fills him with a rush that he’s certain he’ll never find in anything else. the knot of fire that treads up his spine coils tighter on itself at the sound of your pitchy breaths and pathetic whines. 
it brings wriothesley to the heavens, and soon enough, he’s prattling on and tripping over his words just as you had been, drooling drivelling from his lips like a fucking dog.
“shiiit, all those pretty fuckin’ sounds you make, h-hah, gonna make me cum, baby— you want that? wanna make daddy cum? want his seed so deep inside ya? yeah, ohhh, i know you do, c’mon then, milk this fuckin’ cock, ’s all yours.”
and so, you moan and whimper and cry out for your daddy, goaded by his words and his cock moulding your cunt to the shape of him, toes curling and tapping helplessly over his shoulder, your orgasm flying through you from head to toe. “fuck, fuck fuck, daddy— ‘m cum’ng— cummiiiing, daddyyy—!”
it’s nothing short of endearing, how you clutch at the nape of his neck and whimper in the junction of his neck, little incoherent mumbles falling onto deaf ears. because when you cum, wriothesley cums too, seeing white, a strangled whine ripping from his throat when tiny squirts push past your hole where the creamy base of his cock sticks to your cunt and thick ribbons of his milk paint the walls of your womb.
your heart dances with wriothesley’s when they meet on the tip of his tongue, his nose brushing against yours with so much delicate care and a boyish chuckle pushing past him when your hips swirl in cute little motions to catch your clit on his pubic bone, grinding up and chasing his cock to keep it plugging you full. “wrio.” 
it comes out as a sniffle, and he can’t help but blush at the small pout you send his way. 
“yeah, princess?” he moves back to pull out of you, but your legs slip down from his shoulders in between his arms to wrap around his waist, ensuring his full length is kept inside your stuffed hole.
“if you move it’ll all leak out,” you whine, pitchy and puerile, “don’t want it to— wan’ it to stay in me forever and ever…”
his seed as a sliver of him in your tummy, a sliver of his love kept in your body until the end of time— his head falls forward into your neck where he can only bring himself to huff out an endearing laugh and repeat your words, “forever ‘nd ever, huh…?”
“mhm… forever ‘nd ever ‘nd even after that.”
you tug on the medal’s lanyard to prompt him to meet your gaze, absolutely cockdrunk and bambi-eyed with your bottom lip tugged coyly into your top teeth— wriothesley knows that look well, you cheeky little minx; and you giggle when you clamp down around him once more, coaxing another tiny rope of milk from his slit, evident by a sharp moan that escapes him mid-breath.
“you’re killin’ me, sweetheart.”
he's dizzy— either from all the alcohol or the intensity of his high or a mix of both, but he still manages to bar you to his chest with two steady hands against your back and raise you both so that you’re sitting upright on the floor, and you cry out at the shift in position, at how his cock is nestled so incredibly deep inside that you swear you can feel him piercing your womb.
and it’s a sound that so sweet, so tooth-rottingly sweet, because wriothesley can’t help but mutter out small proclamations of his love as he lays them all over your face, can’t help the excruciating ache in his limbs and muscles and the uncomfortable twist and turn of his organs because, archons, he loves you.
“gold looks good on you, wrio,” you whisper, cheeks burning with warmth and popping like corn from how wide your smile is, from the accidental tickle of his fleeting touches.
you’re floating— high on his love, floating higher, higher, until you’re swimming in the oceans he put in the sky for you, the waterfalls up in the clouds. 
the loss of his touch brings you back down to earth— his fingers are sticky, sweet and salty with drying champagne and a mix of your releases, but he could care less when he removes the medal from his neck and hangs it around yours, carefully laying the gold flat on your sternum, right above your heart.
and maybe he jumps the gun a little when he rubs your ring finger and searches for something that’s not there— his soul fanning across your face in sweet breaths when he starts thinking about white picket fences and a little angel with his hair, your eyes, his nose, your smile— the most beautiful blessing of all.
“well, i think it looks better on you.”
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do u evr hate a character so much you wnt to write the most unabashedly horny smut for them . bcos i do ♡ anw hehe :3 tusm for readin ! ! ‎٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و i hope u liked dis n' it made u just as flustered as i felt when writing ⭐️ pls consider commenting ノ reblogging if u enjoyed aaa ( =v= ) it wld make mi so happie yayayayyy ! !
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yuutx · 2 months
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ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐑 , 𝐈 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ! (𝒜𝐿𝐻𝒜𝐼𝒯𝐻𝒜𝑀)
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al haitham x f!reader . 18+ content. ⟆ student - teacher / modern au ⟆ nsfw + unprotected sex/raw sex. public sex (?) spanking (belt). degrading kink. praise kink. size kink. creampie. ⟆ mdom + fsub ⟆ not proofread ! /ᐠ - ˕ -マ
i think im becoming alhaitham crazy recently,, i can't stop thinking about him 'n writing 4 himmm . . agghhh hes soso perfect . . alsooo, art credits go to @/eriimyon ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !
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You could only focus on the sound of his footfalls, his presence so strong it made you quiver. His hand was a heavy weight against your shoulder, the other gripping your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes. They were so pretty, even now, a darkened, stormy green that had you melting, your pussy clenching around nothing.
"Look at me," his voice was soft, yet his tone was authoritative, making you squirm in your seat. You were practically dripping, the need to feel him inside you becoming almost unbearable. The smirk on his face only served to make your cheeks flare, and your eyes darted away, trying to find a distraction. A mistake, really, one that had you gasping, the sharp sting of his hand meeting your cheek causing you to jolt. "Eyes on me, brat. Don't make me ask you again."
Your head whipped to him, and he chuckled, a deep, dark sound that had your heart skipping a beat. He leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, breath warm and ghosting over the sensitive skin.
"What should I do with you?" He asked, his tone mocking, and his grip on your chin tightened. "You've been so distracted in class, always squirming in your seat." Your eyes squeezed shut as he nipped at the lobe of your ear, teeth tugging gently. You could hear the buckle of his belt unclasping, and your breath hitched, anticipation flooding you. A sudden lurch, and your body moved, your cheek hitting the table, the wood cold against the warmth of your flushed skin. You felt his hands tugging at the hem of your skirt, pulling it up over your ass, and the sound of his belt whistling through the air only served to make your pussy pulse.
"So needy, aren't you? You're dripping through your panties." His hands caressed the flesh of your ass, squeezing and kneading the soft skin, his fingers digging into the pliant muscle. The cool leather of the belt traced along the curve of your ass, and you sucked in a breath. Your mind went blank when the leather met your skin, the crack of the belt sending a wave of pleasure down your spine. "Count for me, brat." He demanded, and you managed a nod, the sting of the first lash still lingering. Another crack, and a strangled moan left your lips, a gasp and a stuttered 'one' tumbling out. By the fifth lash, tears had started to gather in your eyes, and your voice had grown hoarse, a puddle of drool gathered below you.
"Good girl." He praised, his thumb rubbing against the sore flesh of your ass, a low, content hum leaving him. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to each asscheek, his thumbs spreading them apart, and you whined, his gaze boring into your exposed cunt. "So wet for me. Such a good girl." His praise sent a fresh wave of slick pouring out of you, a soft cry leaving your lips. You felt as if you could cum hands free, the throb of your neglected clit almost painful. A sniffle, and he was there, his body draping over you, the heat of his chest a welcome presence. He hushed you, his fingers carding through your hair, brushing away the strands that clung to the tear tracks on your cheeks. You nuzzled against his palm, turning your head to press a kiss to the inside of his wrist. "That's it. What do you need?"
"Sir," you whined, his name coming out more as a gasp than anything. You ground back against him, his bulge meeting the curve of your ass, the friction of the zipper causing you to moan. "Sir..need it..want your cock, please.." You begged, the haze of lust nearly taking over, your words barely intelligible. You heard him groan, and you felt the warmth of his body leave you, the absence almost too much. You let out a noise of protest, your hips canting backwards, desperate for some form of relief.
"Stay put." He ordered, and you managed a nod, not trusting yourself to speak, the lump in your throat far too much to push through. You squeezed your thighs together, the wetness making your skin stick, and you whimpered, the stimulation not enough. A hand met the curve of your ass, and a yelp left you, your head snapping to him.
"Don't move. If you want my cock, then be a good girl, and stay still." The promise was almost too much, and you buried your face in your arms, a muffled 'sorry' leaving you.
"Good girl."
He pulled his length free from the confines of his pants, hissing at the relief, the fabric of his underwear almost too much to handle. Precum dribbled from the head, and he smeared it over the pink, glistening head, his eyes rolling back as he stroked himself, gathering up the bead of precum that collected at the tip. It was only after his length was covered with his own slick did he move, lining himself up, his free hand grabbing a fistful of your hair. He pulled, his fingers tangling in the soft, silken strands, a cry leaving your lips.
"Ready, brat?" He asked, a breathless chuckle leaving him, the sound turning into a low moan as he pressed the tip of his cock against your entrance. "Filthy girl.. Is this what you've been thinking of during my lectures?" You were embarrassed at how quickly you nodded, a moan leaving you as he teased you with the head of his cock, the sensation enough to drive you insane.
With a sharp thrust, he sheathed himself inside of you, the tight heat of your cunt sending his head spinning, the groan that left him nearly animalistic. You keened, the sudden intrusion almost too much, his length filling you far better than any toy ever could. He didn't give you time to adjust, and the burn of his cock stretching you open was almost euphoric, your hands clutching the table for dear life. He pulled back, the drag of his cock nearly too much, before he slammed back in, the desk jerking with the force. The sounds of skin slapping filled the room, and you cried out, the pleasure overwhelming. You could hear him cursing under his breath, his own moans intermingling with your cries, a chorus of pleasure. You were sure that someone would hear, the obscene noises far too loud to be concealed, but the thought only spurred you on.
His hips pounded against yours, the pressure of his fingers holding you in place, the bruises already forming. Your fluttering, gummy walls hooked around him, as if refusing to let him leave. He could feel you pulsing, the rhythm of your cunt squeezing him, trying to milk him for all he had. He was so close, the urge to paint your walls white driving him on, his grip on your hair tightening, forcing you to arch, a wail leaving you, your pussy clamping around him. You were right there, the knot in your belly tight, the pleasure almost painful. You could feel your release building, his name falling from your lips, a litany of curses and pleas for him not to stop. Each thrust of his hips was met with a roll of your own, your body working towards your release, the head of his cock pounding against the sweet spot that had your vision going white. His fingers found their way to your clit, and it was enough to send you spiraling, your cunt spasming, clenching around his cock as your orgasm wracked through you. You could vaguely hear him groaning, his pace stuttering as his own release took him over, his cum shooting deep into your throbbing, clenching cunt.
He continued to rut into you, a shaky sigh leaving him, his cock twitching with each spurt of his seed. "Haah.. fuck, you take me so well," he murmured, and a weak moan left you, the sensation almost too much. With a final groan, he pulled out, and a hiss left him, his own cum dripping from your used pussy. "Such a good girl." His praise had you preening, and his fingers slipped inside of you, pumping lazily. A squeal left you, your oversensitive body jumping at the sensation. He chuckled, and you could feel his lips press against the back of your neck, his tongue dragging along the sweat-slick skin. "What do you say?" His tone was mocking, a knowing smirk on his face, and you felt the blood rushing to your cheeks, a whine leaving you.
"T-thank you, sir.." You mumbled, and he let out a laugh, his thumb finding its way to your clit, pinching the swollen nub between his fingers. The cry that left you was almost shameful, the sound bordering on a sob, your body jumping. You could feel him press a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, his voice a soft murmur.
"My pleasure."
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angelltheninth · 9 months
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Nsfw, smut, 18+
Sex-Ed Professor!Zhongli who finally decides to reward you for your hard work by taking your virginity. It was on a late say when the two of you were once again alone for extra classes, except this time, when you were about to come from the dildo he pulled it out and pressed the fat tip of his cock against your entrance instead.
"Are you excited, darling? You're finally getting rewarded for all your hard work. You'll finally feel your professors cock in your pussy. No more fingers, no more toys, my raw cock. I think you're ready enough. Shall I put it in and claim that virgin cunt as mine?"
Sex-Ed Professor!Zhongli who despite teaching you how to put a condom on his cock doesn't want to use it for the first time. You'll get the best experience if you feel him fully, screeching out your tight virgin hole further, even more then the toys you used. It hurts at first, your legs snap shut around his hips to stop him from moving, your fists clench around his sleeves, a painful expression on your face while he holds still and kisses your face gently, his thumb rubbing little circles on your hard clit.
"The real thing feels quite a bit different, don't worry, you'll get used to it soon, I promise you. God, how are you still so tight? Am I still too big for you? I need to make your cunt adjust to my size, get it used to being fucked day in and day out. Hm? Yes, I'll make sure you make up for all this time you weren't being a slut. You need to know how good of a cocksleeve you can be."
Sex-Ed!Professor Zhongli who would love nothing more then to shoot his load inside of you, but you're still his student, and his favorite one to be exact. You're not nearly ready enough to be a mother, not for a long time, not until the day he makes you his pretty wife. But until then he will spend every day fucking you till your legs don't work.
"Stop begging for my cum. You got a taste of it and now you can't get enough of it. I knew from the moment I saw you that you would make for a lovely cumdump for me. If you want it so much you're gonna need to suck it from my dick. But first lets get that pussy coming around my cock hm? You deserve to know how it feels to come with your professor's big cock in your pussy."
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onemillionvolts · 2 years
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genshin men + threesomes
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18+. MDNI.
ft. cyno+tighnari, thoma+ayato, childe+zhongli
warnings: f!reader, threesome, oral sex (m. + f. receiving(separate)), creampie, anal, double penetration
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☆ CYNO + TIGHNARI
with cyno behind you, you take tighnari's cock into your mouth, eyes lidding lightly as you slowly begin bobbing your head up and down. as you do this, cyno rubs the head of his cock against your slick cunt, earning muffled moans from you, moans which vibrate around tighnari's own length. the forest ranger lets out a soft groan, hands gripping tight at the bedsheets on either side of him.
you let out a whine against tighnari's cock as cyno pushes into you, bottoming out before grabbing a handful of your ass. he gives you no more than a few moments to adjust before his hips start moving, rutting back and forth, pushing his length deep into you—dragging against your gummy walls with each thrust. you find it difficult to focus, yet manage to continue sucking tighnari off.
cyno is far from gentle, his hips slam against you with seemingly more vigor each thrust. you take fistfuls of the sheets whilst cyno ruins you like there's no tomorrow, your lips still wrapped around tighnari's stiff cock, trying to give him as much pleasure as you're getting from cyno.
it seems that all three of you approach your climaxes at a similar rate; tighnari is the first to finish, hands combing through his hair as he cums in your mouth—you swallow every drop, despite the way cyno harshly treats you with the velocity of his hip ruts. it becomes too much, too quick; you let out a desperate moan around tighnari's cock as you cum, clenching around cyno's cock as he reaches his own high, hands taking a firm grip of your ass as he cums deep inside you.
☆ THOMA + AYATO
you're practically sandwiched between them; straddled atop thoma, facing him as ayato presses against you, their cocks filling your holes to the brim as tears prick at your eyes. thoma is quick to reassure you, kissing away your tears as they flow down your cheeks, "shh shh, it's okay, take your time, sweetie..." thoma coos.
you give your go-ahead once the pain has fully subsided. ayato controls the pace, using his hands to guide your hips up and down on thoma's cock while he fucks your ass. it's so overwhelming, so warm between the two of them on either side of you that you can't help but crave more, erotically chanting their names.
they stretch you out so lewdly, each time ayato moves your hips. it isn't long before you can feel your orgasm swiftly approaching, your hands clutching thoma's bare shoulders in a futile attempt to keep yourself straight while their cocks bury inside you. your body can't take it anymore, all that leaves you is a jumbled mess of half-words as you cum, rendered entirely speechless from the impact of your climax.
they're close, too—you can feel and hear it. both thoma and ayato's groans pick up in frequency, their hips moving with less rhythm and more desperation. ayato finishes first, pulling out to spill his warm cum on your back. with his hands still on your hips, he pushes you all the way down on thoma's length as he finishes, cumming deep inside your cunt thanks to ayato's help.
☆ CHILDE + ZHONGLI
your thighs are on either side of zhongli's head as you ride his face with reckless abandon, lips wrapped around tartaglia's aching cock. below you, the geo archon is devoted to pleasuring you, that much is made clear by the way his tongue worships your cunt with each rut of your hips.
yet, you stay diligent in your effort to satisfy ajax, taking his cock down your throat with each bob of your head, his drawn-out groans motivating you to keep going. as you do so, zhongli's hands take a grip at your hips, fingertips digging into your sides so that he can guide you along as you ride his face.
tartaglia's composure is long gone, his hands white-knuckling the sheets as shameless groans escape him. zhongli's tongue is enough to blur your mind, and sucking ajax off becomes like second nature—a passive action. that is, until the harbinger reaches his sudden climax, pushing your head forward and cumming down your throat.
you keep sucking even after he's finished; partially to watch him squirm, hips bucking upward as whorish groans leave his lips—but mostly because it's all you can do to suppress your own sounds as zhongli laps up your slick like a man deprived, coaxing you through your own orgasm, hips stuttering to a halt as he does his best to messily lick up every last drop, letting some drip down his chin.
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kuni-is-daddy · 6 months
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Scaramouche/Kuni NSFW Alphabet(Fem READER!)
Word count: 1.1k.
Today is my Birthday 📷🤠 I wonder what scara would give Y/N on their birthday. Something besides a 'nice vantage point' view I hope🤨💦
CW: Minors do not interact past the cut! this is a NSFW POST!
ScaraMasterlist🤪
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A: Aftercare- after you first had intercourse you awoke to rather clean and organized room. Your clothes weren't on the floor and we're replaced with a fresh set by the edge of the bed with a note ontop. Scratching your eyes you flipped the note over and read a small 'Hurry up and go to the dining hall when your done.' So you did, smiling ear to ear gleefully, barely getting out the bed and falling on your butt from a sting in your lower body, and a variety of bite marks trailing up your thighs.
B: Body Part- your neck and cleavage. Scara loves to bite on your neck while stuffing you full. He's Moaning, biting and licking so passionately along your neck he could practically feel your heart beating through it. When you make out he can't help but quickly run his hands under your shirt and tug at your bra fabric hiding your boobs. "Mn..fuck your such a tease~" he mutters out.
C: Cum Shot- Scara is pretty possessive, and now that "He's indulging you more often." Besides a hickey he makes sure to coat you everywhere. Your face, fingertips and especially your boobs. Whenever you wake up in the morning and practically stumble into the bathroom your met with bite marks all over your chest. Taking a picture of you covered in his sticky load is his favorite way of claiming you.
D: Dirty Secret- Sometimes he'll take pictures of you and your fucked out expressions, Fresh tears and bite marks along your beautiful body drives him crazy, Especially after your covered in his sticky seed. When your out for a while or he's on missions and extremely needy, he'll seclude himself just to desperately fist his cock to the many pictures of you he's saved. "Hnh~ S-shit~ that's it, Such a good- mnh~ slut taking my cock so well."
E: Experience- Very little or even none, He didnt care for sex as he's so worked up over Inazuma and dottores constant nonsense. Hearing childe talk about 'Hot People he's seen' on trips nearly made scara push him off the boat entirely. You get the honor of being the only one touching his 'godly' body.
F: Favorite Position- face down. Ass up. He loves rubbing his hands along your back then trailing down your body towards your ass. With his smooth fingertips Its almost like a massage. Once he notices you sink into his touch and arc your back like a cat, he's immediately slapping your ass and gripping onto your hips to pull you closer. Grinning at your surprised moans.
G: Goofy- Scara is way too focused on getting himself or you off. But if you made a sly remark about how gentle he's being...he'd flip you over on your tummy, then smash your face into a pillow and call you a needy slut before fucking you rough.
H: Hair- He's a pretty boy, always keeping it trimmed. But since you have the 'honor' of touching him. He'll let you decide how you want it.
I: Intimacy- messy at the beginning. Since your his everything now scara didn't know how to react. He's never had a long lasting or any relationship like this before. Even with aftercare only your panted breathes and 'small talk' would fill the silence.
Walking through the forest or quiet paths always made scara feel at peace which is why he brought you with him. Not because he was bored. His tone would change completely from 'destroyer of nations and Lord sixth' To the blissful innocence he's had as kabukimono. The second you take the opportunity to interlock your hand with his he nearly goes bug eyed as if you Disturbed his peace. He'd Scoff and sigh as if your needy. So you pulled away with a slight frown and immediately he's grabbing tight on your hand. "I never said for you to let go, did I?" He implied and you immediately shook your head and held his hand again with a bright smile on your face while he tippee his hat and looked in another direction, hiding the rosey red blush coating his cheeks. After a couple of days out, scara would be the one holding your hand as soon as you get out the door for a date/ outing he's planned. Everso tightly and even wrapping his arm around your waist so your under his umbrella ((Or hat)) on rainy days.
J: Jack Off- He wouldn't need to unless he's oversees for a mission. He'd fuck you whenever he felt like it. In public, at home. It didn't matter. If you really insisted on waiting until you both got home he'd still pull you over to a alley and kiss you deeply at the very least.
K: Kinks- KUNI!!! CALL HIM KUNI and it practically drives him INSANE!! He loves how sweetly you say his name, either moaning or just calling out for him. You could try kabukimono but He'd get sensitive over it.
Degrading, "Your such a slut~ moaning and pleading for my cock. Want me to give it to you? Then give me more, let me hear more of your pathetic moans. How much do you want your master to fill you up?" Corruption, if it's your first time he'd give the most devilish smirk you've ever seen in your life it would give that weirdo doctor a run for his money. He gets to claim and stuff your pussy full , molding you to perfectly fit his cock and his alone. Breeding, oh for you to have his children. He'd kiss on your belly and abandon his fatui duty's without a second thought. He loves kids and once it was brought up He'd stop at nothing to fill you up with his seed. Just say the word.
L: Location- he prefers the bed, couch, anywhere in your shared home or his palace designated by the tsaritsa. His office however is a favorite of his so he can see you spread out for him and your body jolting back and forth while the desk creeks from his fast pace. But if he was really turned on like at his meeting with Kujou Kamaji..he'd have you stuff your mouth with his cock from under the desk and even pretending to "drop something" just to see your teary eyed face.
M: Motivation- That mouth of yours. Whenever you talk back it amuses him, even during arguments he'd always say things to get a reaction out of you and see what you could come up with just to shut you up later if he loves your answer. (Mention his mother or '3 betrayals' and he'll use you as much as he wants for the day.) Either starving you of an orgasm or deep throating his length and force you to swallow every drop of his cum. If you send a picture of you in black lingerie or any clothing he's bought recently, he'd make it a priority to fuck you as soon as he got home without a care in the world.. he probably left the door open🤭
N: No(turn offs)- Scara would love to try anything with you, either him being top or bottom he always found a way to dominate you or be a brat about it. So it didn't really matter what you did. But if theirs 1 things he didn't care for was wax play. The thought of possibly burning your skin with a mark like that gives him bad memory's.
O: Oral- he loves it. When he plunged 2 of his fingers inside of you and licked at your clit, you came all over his fingers and tongue. You apologized for being so messy but the first thing that came out his mouth was for you to sit on his face like a good girl.
P: Pace- it depends on the mood, he couldn't live watching you walking the next day without stumbling or your legs wobbling. But if it was a long day with fatui work or he hasn't seen you in weeks. It's slow and passionate. He missed feeling your beautiful body. He wanted to explore it just like your first time.
Q: Quickie- Down for it anytime, anywhere.
R: Risk- since he could have you give head right Infront of a colleague. He'd do it Infront of the tsaritsa for all he'd care.
S: Stamina- he's a puppet....and on top of that his 'Creator' is the electro archon. He could go for hours before Overheating 🤭🤭Turning into a sensitive moaning mess. But 'unfortunately' your a human. 2 Rounds minimum.
T: Toys- catching you playing with a toy in your room? He'd watch as you begged and cried from frustration for him to touch you because the toy wasn't enough. How pathetic of you to result to such things while he was away..
U: Unfair- He’s so unfair. he’s brought you to tears almost everytime you did it, he needs you to beg before cumming. Whenever he feels you reaching your climax he'd slow down just to hear you whimper. If you try to tease him he'd indulge it only until he got impatient. Grazing his tip on your folds before riding him? He'd slam you onto his shaft by grabbing your hips. Licking around the tip? As soon as you blink your deep throating his length.
V: Volume- Get as loud as you want, it'll only edge him on more to go faster, to degrade you more, to fuck you harder. As for him he'd mimic your moans just to make fun of you. "Oh shit...You Ah~ like my cock that much? Yes.. faster? Beg for it..cry louder baby~"
W: Wild Card- somnophilia. Only if you give him permission.. if you couldn't wait for him to come back from a mission and we're passed out in his bed he'd flip you over on your back, spread your legs and begin licking and biting at your thighs. When he has a wet dream he'd spare no time and have you waking up to him grunting and groaning in your ear while he folded you like a chair. Also.. electro play..when riding him he'd shock you to go faster instead of slapping your already red ass.
X: X-ray. how big🤨- 7-8 inches and thick. Grinding on him feels so good it's almost as if he's inside of you already~ making you wet and ache for it. When he shoves it deep inside you there's always a bulge, sometimes he'd even grab a marker and label your tummy. He'll stretch you farther next time.
Y: Yearning- if you want it bad he'll always comply. But ONLY if you want it bad. Keep begging, he needs to know you want It. If you dont beg he'll just swat you off like a bug. Or lazily take you.
Z: Zzz- he'd watch you fall asleep after gazing into his indigo eyes long enough. It was a weird yet comforting feeling as you both laid in bed. Your warm body against his. You'd even lay on his chest to his soft breathing making you rise uppp and downnn. It used to creep you out how he wouldnt breathe sometimes but you got use to it. He'd sit there just observing your body. Even trailing his thumb along your soft lips and cheeks.
-- FIC NOTE 🧍
For those confused on turn off 'Bad memory' with the wax play, I considered it for the 3rd 'Betrayal' When the child died from his illness and Kabukimono burned the house down and most likely buried the kid within it.
But this is all head cannons so I hope this is good food for thought with scara!!
"Didn't you post a scara alphabet before?"
Well yes thank you for remembering 😃☝️ The other one got flagged 🧍
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aetheternity · 2 years
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Fucking & Fighting
Synopsis: Play fighting with your archon boyfriend is something you should always assess the consequences of before doing.
A/N: Ok so if you're following me and you see this you'll know where it's from but for everyone else here's the post that gave me the idea to write this. (Yeah I write too much Venti smut what do you want from me??)
Disclaimer: This is afab reader x Venti. MDNI. brief mentions of being rough in this work.
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"Windblume~" Venti's spirited voice echoed down the hall until it found your ears. You hear the call of your partner again followed by the faint sound of a door opening then immediately shutting quickly after.
You weren't exactly hiding. Of course not, you'd never hide from Venti. But the sound of his voice getting closer made your stomach churn with a sort of anticipation.
"Are you.. here??" Followed instantly by a disappointed sigh. A new door, only a couple feet away soon being shut as well.
It was pretty understandable. All the rooms in the mansion looked alike and it seemed Venti's elder brain had its moments of disorientation. His footsteps trekked ever closer and when he stopped in front of your door, you found yourself tugging the blankets up over your head. And yeah this wasn't something you did often. In fact you found yourself taking a back seat to reassess for a moment. But things had already fallen into motion by this point.
The familiar creak of your door welcomed a singsongy and oh giggly tune of, "Windblume~" followed by a faint noise of surprise. Affirming blink perhaps maybe even another gesture you couldn't quite see with this blanket on top of you. A click of the door's confirming shut ringing across the completely silent room.
A chuckle, then an overly dramatized sigh and, "Oh where oh where might my Windblume be today?" The clicks of his shoes across the hardwood grew louder and a little faster as he stopped just beside your bed grabbing your waist so suddenly that you gasped. The blanket flopped off your head as you jolted away from his touch.
"Found you." He muttered, grin impossibly bright.
"Ve-" You nearly bounce off the bed. Those same fingers once idle on your waist dig into your back. Your hips wriggling around till he receives a full joyous scream as you writhe in his hold.
He really is far stronger than he appears. His grip only growing tighter as you slip and slide along the sheets, kicking your feet with each new beg for release. At some point you twist around far enough in your mess of limbs to grab a pillow from the edge of the bed launching it at full speed. The hat once sat atop Venti's head quickly falling to the floor behind him. He pauses now, lips parted in awe and you almost apologize, that is until his hands yank the pillow clean from your hands whacking you far harder than you'd hit him.
"You little.." The bed huffs in agony as you crawl up to the headboard.
"No, wait! You started it!" Venti chokes as he's soon assaulted with a pillow, covering his head with the one he'd snatched from you earlier as you rapidly thwack him.
You momentarily stop, "No I didn't! You were tickling-"
In your moment of restraint he ceases the opportunity. Your legs suddenly wrenched from beneath you. The pillow in your arms and the one he'd been using as a shield falling to the ground as he crawls atop you. You don't miss a beat, bracing for what you assume will be his revenge. Shocked to instead find your wrists captured and quickly pinned above your head. Before you can react Venti's lips are slotting over yours. His thumbs so soothing against your warm skin. Yet still firm anytime you tried to free them.
"Venti.." You sigh into his mouth. Adjusting with him as he splays his legs on either sides of your waist. "Venti, I-"
His braids tickled your cheeks as you gaze into those darkening green/blue irises. The heat of it all feeling as though it were settling on every inch of your skin. His resolve broke, crumbling as he drew ever closer to you. Breath fanning the bridge of your nose.
"Someone's not wearing a bra." He whispered with a low hum. "Were you trying to tease me, Darling Windblume?"
"Is that why you decided to start a fight with me?" You giggle against his lips. "Cause you wanted to touch them?"
"Perhaps, or perhaps I just really felt like tickling you today."
"Pervert." You fake pout.
His laugh is breathy, gentle as the fingers running along the curve of your spine. He traps you in yet another kiss drifting his hands slowly upwards. Your shirt sliding up as they're pushed along by his wrists. You arch your back allowing for the warm fabric to fall away, revealing taut nipples just beneath. Your grin almost childish at the sparkle that glints in the corner of his eyes. Nothing he'd never seen before but that look and that deep shudder of a breath that escaped him never failed to excite you. In more ways than one.
He dips his head to trap your right nipple between his lips. The slick suction so quickly intense on one side while his free hand busied with the left areola. This one spot on your body always had been his favorite. The perfect distraction to allow for your leg to drift along his inner thigh. Adjusting ever so slightly to slip just between his legs.
"Aww Ven, you're practically bursting out of your shorts." You sneer, taking into account the way his eyes flick up to meet yours. Flinching and grappling at the hand that soon replaces your leg between his thighs. But he doesn't bother to remove the touch. "Is this my influence on the great Anemo Archon at its finest."
He doesn't respond. With words that is. Now detached from your chest aside from one hand still affectionately squeezing your tit. His head hangs as he greedily circles his hips back and forth and round and round in the perfect tempo to make his jaw slack. Just the right motions for his chest to cave and his bottom lip to quiver. Your wrist trapped between his clenching thighs while his tiny whimpers alight flames in the pit of your stomach.
"Don't you want these shorts off, Ven?"
It had been quite a while since Venti had come to see you last. Judging by his reactions and how hard up his body seemed for even your smallest touches it might have affected him far more than he was admitting. You noted in your mind how much easier it was to undo his corset than when you'd first done it, happy to watch the article of clothing fall to the floor. Followed by his cape, blouse, shoes, stockings and lastly his shorts. Which were the quickest to go, his drooling tip bobbing around as he moved to help you undress as well.
When he kisses you again it's far rougher, filled with need as his incisors nip at your bottom lip. Tugging it open for his tongue. Meanwhile you found your hands sliding over every lithe curve of Venti's stomach, hips and back. Delighted by how warm his skin felt as though it were your first time with him all over again. His body was so incredibly soft to the touch. Every expanse so firm and nearly any drag of your fingertips made him shiver in ecstasy. Especially the tiny pinches you administered to his nipples.
It'd distracted you so well you weren't privy to where his fingers had moved until they were tugging a moan from your throat. Your cunt welcoming his fingers with no resistance. He straightened up keeping your hips locked in with his thighs, your legs already beginning to quiver as he scissors your flexing pussy.
"Windblume.. I don't want to be gentle anymore." He states firmly
"I'll take it, I promise."
The gasp you let out is noisy, reverberates in a clash off the walls of your bedroom as he adds a third finger. Pounding all three into your spot until you're squirming, inching away from his touch. The sensation gathering in your belly like a clash of pain and pleasure so deep your eyes shut. Then as suddenly as it arrives Venti's retracting his fingers.
You don't even begin to fully exhale before his cock is penetrating your sopping opening, not even bothering to stop until he's balls deep. His moan of your name so throaty and filled with contentment that it almost sounds like a thank you. Followed almost immediately by open mouthed kisses to your face.
"Love, I can't.. can't stay still anymore.. I wanna fuck you." He whispers
The tip of his cock instantly ruts harshly against your spot, so dangerously near your cervix. You find yourself clinging for dear life as Venti only speeds forward, his breathing so harsh against your ear canal. Your nails scrap skin up from his back trying desperately to find any kind of purchase with the way he's so violently fucking inside you.
The pounding of the headboard just behind you two continues to feel louder and louder but it still doesn't out do Venti's pants of your name. The way he chokes and whimpers with every clench of your cunt.
"Windblume.. you're sucking me in so deep.." You can nearly feel the roll of his eyes. "Did your pussy forget me?.. I've been gone.. too long.. because this feels.. so much better than I.... remember."
You can barely form a coherent reply, only his name floods off your lips as you scream for- who knows at this point.
His face dips into the crook of your neck. Sucking sections of your damp skin until it bloomed a bright pink. His free hand cupping and massaging your breasts. Switching between the right and left to give each side an equal amount of attention. Your nails soon leave his back, traveling up the nape of his neck to guide his head.
"I'm gonna cum.. love.." He whimpers, moving the hand that once fondled your breasts to your stomach as he abuses only your spot till you're sobbing and shaking.
Your own orgasm fast approaching with every slide of his cock. He leans back over your lips letting every noise in his body escape against the wild clash. Every second you squeeze him only making his movements that much more harsh. Your orgasm hits you like a truck, white flashes burning into your retinas. Your back arching away as you were hit with immediate overstimulation.
"I'm there, I'm there, Windblume!" Venti's cock twitched with every drop of cum that escaped him. His exhales fluttering over your chest. A couple of quieter moans filtered from his mouth now as his climax ended with your pussy still softly squeezing around him.
His lips pressed against the crown of your head. "Sorry, did I get too carried away?"
You sighed eyes threatening to shut, "Maybe a little at the end but you clearly needed me sooner." A quick kiss to his chin then cheek. "You should've come."
"I wouldn't have been able to stay for long." He whispers "I don't want your mind to drift until you talk yourself into believing I only want, no, need sex from you."
"I've never thought that, Ven."
"Please never think that.."
You give a light chuckle, "I don't."
"Good." His palms slide up to your face coming up to rest on your cheeks. His kiss is far softer yet still a touch needy. "I can buy you breakfast while I'm here, I raked in extra mora from performing. So whatever you want tomorrow is yours."
"Apples and cheese then?" You giggle at the crease of his eyebrows.
"How dare you try to ruin a perfectly good apple.." He snorts playfully
"How about this: pillow fight, loser has to go out earlier and get whatever the victor wants for breakfast."
"Better proposition we just have sex again because that's what would inevitably happen anyway annnddd fight about who's gonna get breakfast tomorrow, tomorrow."
"Sounds like a fair trade."
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oceisastar · 8 months
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MDNI
neuvillette x reader; reader has a d*ck, no pronouns used, top!reader, somnophilia (pre-discussed + consented to), romantic sex
do NOT re-post / re-use / translate my work in any shape or form. rb’s are fine.
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thinking abt neuvillette. coming home to see him undressed, splayed across your bed with hardly anything on. his breaths are soft and he’s lying on his stomach, hair fanned out.
you climb onto the bed with graceful movements, careful not to wake him. his plush ass looks so inviting, so you gently shimmy down his underwear. your breath catches when you realize that his ass is wet with lube.
he was preparing himself for you. almost as if he was expecting you to come and do this. your gut clenches with desire. kneading the soft flesh, you revel in the quiet sound that it earns you from the man below.
you slowly run your hands up his back, watching carefully as he tenses. his skin is soft and smooth, cool to the touch. almost like an instrument, you play him wonderfully.
the soft foreplay has you hard—you fish out your dick, and wet it with lube, slowly easing it into him.
“mm,” he moans softly. he’s the hydro dragon, and yet he has the voice of an angel.
you lean down and part his hair, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. you move experimentally, getting comfortable inside him. you start to move your hips, savoring the comfort of his body.
you watch as you fuck him, the way his hole needs you, even if he doesn’t know it. how his body always calls to yours.
you rest your body weight atop his, careful not to crush him, but for him to feel the warmth of your body.
he stirs, gripping weakly at your arm. you press your lips to his ear, licking up the shell of it.
“m-my love,” he says breathlessly, voice thick with sleep as he grinds back against you.
“good evening, beautiful.” he blushes at the term of endearment.
“I came home expecting you to be asleep, only to find my present nearly unwrapped, presenting himself to me. I am so lucky.” you murmur.
“I knew you would be late so I... I didn’t want to keep you waiting.”
“such a considerate darling.”
he leans back, craning his head for a kiss. his hole clenches as your lips meet his, a soft, warm dance between your tongues.
“you were made for my cock,” you say into his mouth. by the way he tightens around you, you’d say he agrees.
you rock into him, burying your face into his hair, sniffing deeply. the scent is clean and fresh, the care with which he treats himself evident in how soft it is.
he’s perfect—so sweet, and so very gentle.
“I missed you so much.” you’d say, wrapping you arms around his waist and pressing yourself against him fully.
“I missed you as well, my dear...” he sounds so fond it aches.
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wriothesleysgf · 1 year
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cw p*ssy inspections, perv alhaitham, afab reader, petname 'bunny'
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thinking about alhaitham who's secretly a massive pervert. every time that he's away on a business trip for the akademiya, he informs you that you're not to touch yourself no matter what. if you did, he would know and there would be consequences.
the very moment that he got home, as soon as he stepped over the threshold, your clothes were gone. alhaitham wanted you spread on all fours, with your ass up and wearing something pretty. he pulled your panties away before beginning to inspect your cunt, asking whether or not your been a good girl in his absence. of course, you lied through your teeth, nodding and promising that you'd been on your best behaviour.
however, you were dumb to think that he wouldn't notice how your cunt was practically leaking at this point. you couldn't help yourself, you didn't know when alhaitham would be home and you convinced yourself that he would never know if you came just once ! but then that turned into two. . . three. . . orgasms as you grew distracted.
"bunny? what's this. . ." the questions were always rhetorical when he interrogated you. alhaitham then leaned over so that his face was level with your bare cunt. he spread your folds with his index finger and thumb, revealing your puffy clit. in that moment he knew that you'd disobeyed his orders, and very recently at that.
deciding to toy with you, he blew a breath of hot air against the sensitive nub, watching as you tried to maintain composure despite the very clear overstimulation. your boyfriend only took it further so as to test the true strength of your facade. he spat on his fingers before easing two of them into your hole, digits instinctively curling in pursuit of your sweet spot.
fortunately for him, you were positioned just across from your vanity, which allowed for him to see the cracks in your expression begin to form. your lip quivered, tears welling in your eyes. a few more pumps of his wrist and you were mumbling how it was too much, to which he only bent down to whisper in your ear.
"you broke the rules, bunny. since your whore pussy is dripping onto the sheets already, maybe i'll opt for a kinder punishment."
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bazthefirstborn · 1 year
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helloooo baz !! can i ask for sub bottom dotty and pantalone hcs 👉🏼👈🏼 (with male reader)
Have a great day!
HEYYYYY HI HI HI - of course I can do that for you lovely! one subby dottore and pantalone comin (hehe) riiiight up~!
also I disappeared again lol I am currently recovering from a surgery, so I should be doing better soon!
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smut under the cut minors dni!
tw's: crying, (A LOT) spit, sensory deprevation, rp, bj's, (m reader recieving) just general gay men activities
Dottore:
he's a little skrunkly ngl
but he's MY little skrunkly
would 100% get jealous if his clones touch you
wants alllllll your attention like a lil baby (doesn't admit it)
I feel in my nuggets he would love if you spit in his mouth
his fav position is anything from the back bc he's insecure about his face plz be nice about it
make him cry!!!! sob, hiccup even!!!!
experiment with him, maybe roleplay or bondage
SENSORY DEPREVATION (i am going feral)
loves being bitten and marked
has pretty low stamina, give him funny lil plants to help him with it
please edge him. plEASE. he'll get such a pretty crying face and his voice will break and it'll get all squeaky<33333 hhhhhhhh I'm fine i'm FINE
he likes it rough if you get all soft with him he will cry (he's cute when he cries)
will totally tighten around you when you point out how pretty he is
gets so flustered when you ask him to sit on your face, will scream if you tongue fuck him
Pantalone:
momma didn't raise no bitch but she DID raise me to destroy pretty boys!!!!!
he's one of those elegant bottoms in the pretty lingerie and the fluffy robes and i love him for it
fuck him until his glasses fall off!!!!
likes giving head more than recieving, but loves it when you eat him out
is the prettiest crier, his lashes clump so nicely and he sounds so nice begging for mercy <33
he wants to hold hands with you no matter what he has to touch you to ground himself
so pretty when he gets on top, his hair is so flowy and his tits bounce, top tier
long hair = pullable hair/facefuck helper
he will get fussy if he doesn't at least get a bath when you're done, he hates being dirty
if you plug him up before a harbinger's meeting he'll get all flustered and his legs will be shaky before he even gets done
don't let him finish and just edge him until he's crying and gasping
fin.
a/n: can you tell I like crying lolz hope you enjoy!!!!
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rosedom · 2 months
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ga-ming is so good with kids . . . building the kite with shuyu, and all i could think about was how i want to breed him full <33 thirst format for now, until i get the motivation to do my requests (⁠˘⁠⌣⁠˘⁠ ⁠)
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ga-ming would be so pretty, spread out on my bed, stuffed full of my cock, my cum. his small cunt'd be stretched around me as he'd be grasping at my arms, my shoulders—any part of me that he can reach to ground himself.
he's such a chatterbox, too; i can't wait to see how that'd translate in bed. except instead of small talk—of yapping about small, tiny things that really don't mean much—, he'd be whining and crying and babbling mindlessly with each deep, tender thrust <;33
it'd be all, "o-oh, so good," and, "mm! please, please! 'm so close!" and, your favorite, "f-fill me, cum in me!"
i want to melt his pretty brain 'til all he can do is babble, begging me for my cum. the sweet thing wouldn't even care about his own orgasm; he just wants to be filled to the brim.
and, just. wow. his little cunt would squeeze and clench and milk me for all my cock's worth, wanting so badly to be dripping with my spend. he'll orgasm himself at the feeling, a milky white stirring up between his thighs.
he'd finally slur a mumbled "th'nk you," contentedly mewling and purring like a kit at the warmth deep in his belly. he's so warm, so full, so cock-drunk and cum-filled.
in my heart, i know ga-ming would be a creamer, too. imagining a mix of sticky white dripping down his thighs when i pull out, a mess of our cums together slicking up his mole-smattered skin.
however: "please," he'd surely whine, wrapping his strong legs around my waist to bring me back in, bring my cock sliding back in, soft and smooth. "s-stay?"
"of course, little dragon."
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i promise i'm getting to the requests . . . but breeding kink goes hard !!
11 FEB. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .
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silkjade · 6 months
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CLASSICAL CONDITIONING !
featuring— wriothesley x reader ⤀ cw: fem!reader, 'good girl', established relationship, unprotected + rough sex, overstimulation, use of handcuffs, lil bit of dom!wrio — ꒰ mdni ꒱ ⤀ summary: careful how you tease the duke a/n: i blacked out and when i came to, this was written && sitting pretty in my drafts
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for the duration of your relationship, you’ve made it a habit to bring wriothesley tea every afternoon. it’s something that’s become so ingrained in his routine, that when the noon bell chimes two, he’s compelled to sit a little straighter, exchanging unrequited glances with the large double doors of his office.
as the minutes tick by, he finds himself a little more irritable, finds it admittedly more difficult to focus on the paperwork at hand. you're late and it's not until a quarter past, that he finally hears the familiar tap tap on the door, that indicates your much anticipated arrival.
by the time you make it to the top of the stairwell, the fragrance of freshly brewed tea has long filled the room, yet your boyfriend's eyes remain trained on the documents before him. unbeknownst to you however, he's been reading through the same line for the umpteenth time, clearly distracted without your little midday pick-me-up.
“for your hard work,” you hum, setting the teacup to his side before stepping away and just missing—though in his opinion, dodging—his expectant lips.
wriothesley blinks. it’s neither the tea nor the pastries that he looks forward to everyday, but the kisses that always follow—until today, apparently, where you’ve left him with the terrible notion that his lips are to remain grievously untouched.
he clears his throat. “aren’t you forgetting something?”
“hmm,” pouting, you tilt your head, brows loosely knitted with cluelessness. “i don’t think so.”
your duke leans back in his chair, arms crossed, before he huffs in amusement. “single handedly halting the productivity of the warden,” he lets out a low whistle, “could be a pretty hefty crime you know.”
“s’that so…” you seat yourself on the edge of his desk; it’s the playful little grin twitching at the corners of your lips that give you away. “well what’re you gonna do about it, your grace?”
it's quite cute how you giggle at the way he’s wrapped around your finger, and given the lovestruck look in his eyes, he truly does not mind at all. however, that's not to say he finds it fair.
because although they say it’s unwise to bite the hand that feeds you, this is not the nation of wisdom; here in fontaine, justice demands an equitable arrangement, and as the formidable duke of meropide, it's in his right to enact his own... so it really should be of no surprise when wriothesley shows no remorse as he drills into your gushing cunt, hellbent on conditioning you to cum on his cock and his cock only.
he makes sure to imprint the very shape of him into your walls: from the fat mushroom tip that first slips through your sticky folds, to the large bump of each vein dragging across your velvet insides—your little hole greedily swallows every thick inch of him. over and over, every thrust sheathes him to the hilt, and the heavy sounds of skin against skin echo through the room.
the sudden cold of his fingers on your clit sends a shudder through your core, jolting as he begins to press and toy with the nub, legs twitching while his heavy balls continue to slap against your puffy pussy lips. you squirm in his hold—far too sensitive to cum again, but you're so close.
your hips bounce back and forth, alternating between the hard edge of the desk that presses sharply into your skin, and the merciless ruts that penetrate so deep inside. but like the doting lover he is, wriothesley takes note of your woes and makes a decision for you. he presses his weight into you, grazing his teeth lightly down the nape of your neck.
"ah ah," he coos, "c'mon you can take it. be a good girl for me, yeah?"
it's a shaky, dreamy imitation of your voice, that nods along to the thin facade of agency; with your wrists cuffed behind your back, and body bent over, imprisoned between the warden and his desk, the only thing you can do is to take it.
still, your walls tighten around him nonetheless, prompting him to angle his hips, hitting that spot with a precision that only comes with experience. you keen beneath him, spiraling into yet another dose of exhilarating bliss as you cum again, creaming all over the girthy shaft still buried in your wet mess of a cunt.
and as you're still shuddering from the intensity, consumed completely in the pleasure, wriothesley continues to grind your insides. he's far from finished and intends to carry on until you’re blissed beyond any semblance of sane, drunk on the memory of being molded to his fat cock.
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a/n2: reblogs and feedback appreciated, as always ^^ ty for reading !
© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform
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hwaitham · 7 months
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𝓲'𝓵𝓵 𝓫𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵 𓈒 ˖ ࣪ 𝜗𝜚 al haitham x f!reader. nsfw — mdni. established relationship ノ inexperienced al haitham ノ a teensie bit of nipple play ノ spit :3 drool :3 ノ dry humping ノ you call him ' haithie ' quite a bit ꒰ᐡ´˃ ˙̫ ˂ഃ`ᐡ꒱ ノ this is a rewrite + repost from my old blog !
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the akademiya’s scribe is in heaven.
at least, that’s what it feels like—with your whimpers and keens and pretty, pretty pleas, legs caging either side of his hips, and your panty-clad cunt weighing down heavily on his crotch; he can’t seem to bring himself to paint you as anything but some sort of celestial body.
and it’s his first time in heaven.
it’s the first time his angel of a girlfriend is sat on his lap like this: the lace straps of your dress sliding off your shoulders and digging into the supple flesh of your arms—the arms that wrap around his neck to pull him closer, closer, until there’s no room for air between your bodies, or your lips. your mouth moves languidly against his own—softly, sensually, each wet smack decorated with a small whine that sends a painful throb to his cock.
his lashes flutter sporadically as you continue to kiss him, and for the first time, al haitham can’t seem to think straight. 
because you kiss him like that—so gently, so carefully, fingers curling at his nape—every kiss to his lips feels like the first but you kiss him like it’ll be the last. tilting your head to press against him even deeper, deeper, and then he drowns. in the roses that bloom in his chest and the lose petals stuffing his mouth full, in the scarcity of your sweet voice when all you can do is call out for him, wanting al haitham, your al haitham.
“h-haitham… mmm, haithie…”
he's in heaven—on cloud nine, and he doesn’t want to come back down.
perhaps it’s the intimacy of the moment, of your fingers in his hair and your warm breath settling in his lungs that has him harder than ever before, but al haitham’s stomach is in his throat, his heart pounding with lust and mind racing with feelings so foreign—fear, embarrassment. he grows horrified by the thought that just maybe you can feel his raging boner through the thick fabric of his pants.
“please, p-please…” your voice pulls him out of his head and you run your hands down the grooves of his biceps, the veins that line his forearms, and then your fingers find his own, loosening his fist before smoothing his palms up your torso to your breasts, squeezing gently, “can you touch me here…? pretty please, haitham?” 
the way you say his name is hypnotizing: a soft, needy mewl against his lips and he has no choice but to cave in, nodding along with a deep hum when you wrap your fingers around his thumb and run them over your pebbled nipples. “f-fuck… i… yeah, baby.”
and as if that isn’t enough to send your boyfriend’s mind reeling, when he feels your tongue dip into his mouth to massage his own, when he feels your saliva mix with his and collect at the swell of his bottom lip—dribbling down his chin in slow, teasing ebbs—he moans: a smooth, drawn-out assonance that travels straight to your clit. 
you can’t help the reciprocated sound that al haitham swallows and the slow roll of your hips that follow as you search for friction to ignite the tightly wound coil inside you. a mewl pushes past you when you feel his hard-on through your movements, grinding your sex along the outline of his cock, “haithie… feels really nice…”
your sweet keen overwhelms your lover—a heavy dizziness carrying from one ear to the next and it stokes the embers in his gut—he’s sure he won’t be able to control the flames if you continue on like this any longer, clinging onto him like some guardian angel who's nothing short of head over for her human, nuzzling your cheek against his, making those pretty, pretty noises.
he doesn’t want to cum— at least, not yet— not until he sinks his cock past your wet folds, deep, until his leaking slit brushes that one sweet spot that makes you arch your chest up into his and you’re calling out his name like it’s some sort of prayer. 
he can’t cum, he won’t allow it— at least, not until you cream around his cock, tears wetting your cheeks that he can wipe away, loving you through your high just as you’re loving him now: purely, tenderly.
the thought sends his mind into overdrive, his pulse picking up when he starts to hear it ringing in his ears, and so he pulls his lips away from yours hastily, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. his brows knit tightly and his molars grind in frustration as his fingertips move from your breasts down to your waist, digging them into the flesh to stop the slow rolls of your hips.
“h-haithie?” your voice is sweet when you call out for him, it always is, but he think’s so especially when it’s like this: wobbly and pitchy and teetering on the edge of blubbery sobs.
“i’m fine— you’re fine, just… need a sec,” he pants headily, pulling you into him impossibly close, until your body melts into him and your heart dovetails his through the gaps in your ribs.
you’re absolutely intoxicating, with the sugary, decadent scent of your perfume and the steady rise and fall of your chest, where he can feel your nipples against his own. his forehead is heavy on your shoulder and he tries to smother the flames burning behind his eyes, tries to ignore the dull ache of his cock as his impending orgasm retracts.
al haitham pulls away from your neck and tilts his head towards your lips when he thinks the bright blue flames have subdued to a light flicker, looking up at you through lidded eyes—at the pretty angel sitting on his lap with a halo glowing around her head. 
“you’re the sweetest, haitham…” your palms cup either side of his face, thumb wiping away the remnants of rosy glitter that had fallen from your cheekbones onto his. he sees the way you gaze at him ardently, nothing but love and adoration held in your blown-out pupils before you lean in, lips brushing over his forehead, and then his brows, his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, his chin.
it's staggering—how wanted he feels, how loved. a feeling that wakes something long dormant inside him and flushes his limbs full of warmth. 
he wants to make you feel the same way too.
you’re the sweetest—he wants to say, but he can’t seem to peel any words from his throat with the way blood floods the swell of his cock, his chest caving inwards with a burning desire as he meets you halfway when your lips reach for his.
and it’s in how you two kiss this time around that ignites the fire in his stomach brighter than before—soft, delicate fingers tracing over his cheekbones as you tilt your head and melt your silken lips into his—tiny, satisfied whimpers escaping you when his palms smooth the skirt of your dress up to your hips, run along your thighs and grope at the soft flesh of your ass.
prompted by his warm touch, you grind down into him again, pulling away ever so slightly to breathe out your wants, needs over his lips.
“w-wanna, i wan’, haithammm—“
“c’mon, use your words. i know they’re, h-hah, know they’re in there.”
you whimper, cheeks hot and head dizzy when he asserts himself, “wanna fuck, haithie, want your cum s’bad,” it comes out a pitiful whine, one that al haitham realizes the pain behind when you take his pinky in your hold and guide his palm from your ass to your tummy. “in here… wan’ it in here.”
there’s no way you don’t know the effect your words and the way you say them has on your boyfriend—it’s beyond torturous hearing you say how you want him in you, cockhead knocking at your cervix and balls heavy over the swell of your ass and his seed filling your womb and oozing out of you in creamy globs that drivel and stick to your thighs and—god, al haitham just can’t stave off the orgasm that hits him, “fuck, i’m—!”
before you can ask him what the matter is, he groans, loud and low into your mouth, a tiny squeak escaping you when he bucks his hips up into you unexpectedly, each painfully erotic thrust of his punctuated by the bounce of your body.
you’re quick to realize what’s going on with him when you feel his open mouth puffing out hot air and choked expletives onto your skin, fingers lightly digging into your back as he fists the lace fabric of your dress so tightly you can feel them tremble. 
and then there’s his cock twitching about in this shorts, thick, creamy ropes spilling from his slit; the thought is dizzying, it heats you up, and you can only latch onto al haitham’s arms to steady yourself.
when you look down to where your crotch meets his, you’re greeted by the sight you expected—a dark patch spreading along the seam of your lover’s slacks, the dampness seeping through until you can feel it through the gusset of your panties and slathered as strokes of glaze over the apex of your thighs.
your lover falls back onto the bed almost instantaneously as he comes down from his high, covering up the growing blush on his cheeks and ears with his forearm, shame settling into his bones while he slowly regains his full consciousness from cumming—hard—shuffling his hips around uncomfortably from the hot, sticky feeling in his pants.
it has you giggling shyly—a cute, playfully innocent sound that makes al haitham’s heart skip several beats.
“you… you’re just a little minx, aren’t you?”
nuh uh, ‘m not! is whispered into his palm when you bring his hand up to your lips to place a long kiss to his wrist, trailing them up to his fingers before you lean over him and lay another one to the underside of his jaw. 
he moans when you wiggle your cunt over his still-aching cock. he stills wants more.
and you’ll give him more, you'd give him anything he wanted, pull the moon down to the earth if he’d asked, anything, everything—and so, you lift yourself up off his lap, sink onto your knees in between his spread legs and run your palms up his sinewy thighs. 
he tenses under your sensual touch and you have to bite back a moan when he finds his way to your hair, lithe fingers brushing free strands from your face before he gently takes your twin-tails in either hand. 
kisses follow in the trail of your warm touch: a kiss to his knee, another one halfway up the inside of his thigh, and a final one to the bulge of his crotch, wet salt spreading over your lips that you lick up and swallow with a satisfied hum, smiling at how his hips roll up into the air.
“can i clean you up, haitham?”
he peeks down at you when your angelic voice reaches his ears, and for the first time, al haitham begins to doubt himself.
he wonders whether maybe letting you get on your knees for him was a mistake, because when you let a glob of spit fall from your lips onto his twitchy bulge and lean down to lick it off—the white glow of your halo shining brighter than ever— he thinks he just might cum again.
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yuutx · 3 months
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ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐏𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐘 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 ! (𝒜𝐿𝐻𝒜𝐼𝒯𝐻𝒜𝑀)
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al haitham x f!reader . 18+ content. ⟆ nsfw + unprotected sex/raw sex. praise kink. pussy slapping/pussy spanking (?) . creampie. clit rubbing + pinching. ⟆ mdom + fsub ⟆ not proofread ! (ɔˆ ³(ˆ⌣ˆc)
more alhaithammm ! i know i just recently wrote a fic about him but . . . i just can't get enough. also plsss give me some suggestions on what character i should write for next,, im a little stuck lol ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !
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The slap resounded through the room, the sting of his palm against your aching cunt leaving you breathless. A moan escaped you, your head thrown back, hips canting down towards him, seeking more of the sweet, delicious friction that accompanied the sharp sting. The heat that settled between your thighs was nearly unbearable, your entire body alight with pleasure as he thrust into you, each snap of his hips sending you hurtling closer and closer to the precipice of your own pleasure. Your cunt throbbed, your belly tightening with the promise of release, the tell-tale signs that your climax was approaching. You could hardly contain the gasps and whimpers that fell from your lips, a steady stream of sounds and noises, a lewd cacophony of the sweet, delicious pleasure the man above you was providing you with.
He grunted, his brows furrowing with the effort of fucking into you, his hands gripping your hips as he guided your pussy down his cock, the way you fluttered around him so, so sinfully good. The slap of skin meeting skin rang out through the room, the sounds of your slick squelching with the force of his thrusts and the lewd noises of him fucking into you a melody to his ears. You were absolutely drenched, your arousal coating his cock and pelvis, the evidence of just how much you loved him dripping onto the sheets below you. He groaned, the sound deep and throaty, his head tilting forward to watch the way you took his cock, how your cunt swallowed him up.
His palm met the wet heat of your pussy once more, and the shock that rippled through you had you crying out, a moan tumbling from your lips. You jolted with every strike to your clit, your cunt clenching around him and only serving to spur him on. Your eyes fluttered shut, and he clicked his tongue, displeased by your disobedience.
"Look at me." He commanded, and the sheer force of his voice had your eyes snapping open, your gaze meeting his. He smirked, the look in his eyes positively sinful, his fingers coming to pinch your clit as he continued to drive into you. The pressure that had been steadily building inside you began to crest, the promise of an orgasm looming just out of reach. Your eyes were locked on his, the look of pure, unadulterated bliss written on your features driving him absolutely wild. He leaned forward, his nose brushing against yours as he captured your lips in a bruising kiss.
"Cum for me, sweet girl. Be a good girl and cum all over my cock. I want to feel you fall apart." He whispered against your lips, the sensual cadence of his words sending you spiraling. His pace picked up, his hand working furiously at your clit, his fingers pressing against the sensitive nub just the way he knew you liked it. The way he spoke to you, the low, gravelly quality of his voice as he encouraged you, had your body trembling. You were so close, the tight coil of pleasure in your stomach winding ever tighter, and you chased after your high, desperate for the mind-numbing bliss he was so readily giving you.
Your hips bucked desperately, your body trembling with the force of your oncoming orgasm. Your walls fluttered around him, your body tightening, and his mouth descended upon yours again, swallowing up your moans as you came. You cried out, the intensity of the pleasure too much for you, your cunt convulsing and your back arching. You came with a sob, your climax washing over you, the feeling unlike anything else. Alhaitham's movements grew erratic, his thrusts stuttering as he followed you into oblivion, a low groan spilling from his lips as his release crashed over him. His seed spurted inside you, hot and thick, his hips stilling as he filled you up. You sighed, your body slumping, the pleasure making you feel boneless, sated, and absolutely blissful.
"Such a good girl for me." He cooed, his lips pressing a kiss to your forehead. He pulled out of you, the drag of his cock along your sensitive walls causing you to whimper. You winced as he pulled out, your cunt aching, the sensitivity too much. He chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek.
"Oh? Painful already?"
You flushed, unable to form a response. His hand caressed the wet folds of your pussy, and he chuckled at the way you flinched.
"Poor thing," He said, the smirk on his lips betraying his true intentions. "Perhaps you shouldn't have been such a naughty girl then, hm?"
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angelltheninth · 1 year
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Ok but a feral!Zhongli who tries to stay away from you so bad it hurts him. He wants breed you so fucking bad, be balls deep inside your pussy and bite your neck while he ruts into you but he holds back from fear of hurting you. Cue to him having his wrists tied above his head and a muzzle so he cant bite you but he keeps snarling and growling at you while you ride his cock.
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