#he had no choices and no knowledge and no idea what to do so maybe if he ignores it it'll fix itself? he'll understand better? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

puck-luck · 30 days

Note

okay since you wanted requests to switch it up a bit.. could you write trevor zegras x fem!reader smut where his gf is less experienced than him and wants to give him head but she’s never done it before so he guides her through it 🫣

other requests: “could you write a smut with some fluff in it too, with trevor zegras walking his gf through giving him head because it’s her first time and she’s nervous/doesn’t know what to do”, “obsessed with the idea of trevor zegras talking his gf through how to give him head when it’s her first time and she’s nervous about not knowing what to do.. like literally giving her instructions throughout, with lots of praise and reassurance, but also dirty talk bc let’s be real, it’s trevor.” warnings: oral (f and m receiving), dirty talk, inexperienced reader x experienced partner, praise, coming on face, masturbation joke warnings: tw: los angeles angels (i prefer the dodgers), in a world where tz never broke his ankle during the 2023-2024 season… pairing: trevor zegras x inexperienced!fem!reader summary: see requests above. wc: 3089

Trevor Zegras was the most giving, patient man you had ever known. Maybe his patience came from having younger siblings, but it was more likely that it came from years and years of working with teammates in a cutthroat sport. You had grown up watching hockey, gaining intimate knowledge of the sport when you had started dating Trevor. Trevor, in exchange, found himself more than knowledgeable about baseball, the sport of your choice, than he ever needed to be.

You two had met when you came to Anaheim, having graduated a year early from college with a degree in Sports Marketing. You had landed a job with the Los Angeles Angels, which had relocated you to the area, and you couldn’t imagine your life going any other way. There were times when you missed your family and missed home, but once you had gotten settled into your job and you had met Trevor, Anaheim started to feel like the home you’d been destined to find.

Anaheim was also an escape from your hometown– a place where, despite your best efforts, you did not feel welcome. You had told Trevor early in your relationship about your lack of experience sexually and tried to explain it away with a long-winded story about being a “weird kid,” but Trevor had brushed it off and told you he didn’t mind your inexperience. He was happy, he said, to teach you everything he could. All you had to do was say the word.

So, you’d worked up to it. You’d slept in the same bed, touched him, and he had touched you. Hockey season had helped the pace of your relationship, with Trevor traveling almost every other week. He was gone for two weeks straight in January, traveling from coast to coast, and it was then that you had shyly admitted to him through the tinny speaker of your phone how badly you wanted to suck him off.

He had fumbled with the phone, groaning at the idea alone of your mouth around his length, and it had resulted in a long FaceTime call in which you watched him fuck into his hand, telling you how much better it would feel if it was your mouth.

It was the Monday night after they had come back. Trevor had had a game on Sunday at Honda Center against the Rangers and spent the night at his place because it was closer to the rink. As much as he was itching to see you, and your heart was beating out of your chest at the idea of seeing him and going through with blowing him, you were scared. Trevor knew that you were nervous, the anticipation was getting to you, just from the way you were texting. The messages were shorter. You weren’t initiating conversation as much. The times between your responses were longer.

It didn’t matter, though. He was coming over tonight.He was going to cook you dinner. He was going to set the mood. He was going to make you comfortable if it was the last thing that he did, and if it meant that you wouldn’t get your mouth on him at all, he was okay with that.

Trevor arrived at your apartment about an hour after you got off work. Spring training was starting in just a month, so things were starting to pick up for you. You were stressed, plenty of tasks on your plate and most of them half-finished. A relaxing dinner with your boyfriend was going to provide a needed distraction.

Trevor had let himself into the apartment and was already pan-searing some cubed potatoes when you got out of the shower. He was in complete boyfriend mode, having stolen your apron and thrown it over his bare chest. You could see his tattoos from where you were standing, the ones littering his arms and the delicate one on his ribs, and you smiled.

He seemed like a tough guy, your boyfriend. He had the tattoos, the athletic ability, the sculpted form and ridged muscles of an athlete. Anyone who saw him in the supermarket might think he’s an asshole, but the second they get a good look at him, they’ll realize that he’s just a softie. He tied a delicate bow around the curve of his waist in your baby blue and frilly apron.

“I can feel you looking at me,” Trevor said. You watched his bicep ripple as he moved the potatoes around the pan with a spatula. He threw a glance over his shoulder. “Oh, good, you’re actually there. Could you imagine me saying that to the air?”

“I can, actually,” You replied with a laugh. You walked over and hugged Trevor from behind, arms wrapped solidly around his figure as you squished your cheek against his back. “I bet you did.”

Trevor sputtered out a denial, shaking his head. He relented just seconds later, unable to keep up the bit. “You’re right. I thought you were there like two minutes before you actually were.”

You giggled and pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades.

Trevor placed the spatula down on the counter, then turned the burner off and moved the pan to a different spot on the cooktop. He turned in your arms, inching over just a bit so that you were trapping him against the counter, not the oven. He gasped, reaching up and cradling your face in the palms of his hands.

“What?” You asked.

“You’ve gotten even prettier in the two weeks that I haven’t seen you,” He marveled, tilting your head from side to side as you rolled your eyes.

You pushed away from him, walking out of the kitchen.

Trevor trailed behind you like a puppy.

“You’re a loser,” You said.

“I love my pretty girlfriend,” Trevor replied.

As you passed the couch in your living room, Trevor tackled you over the arm of the object and you fell onto the cushions. You shrieked at the contact, at the fall, and squirmed in Trevor’s grip as he kissed over your neck and face. His fingers were digging into your sides, causing you to giggle and snort between breaths. Trevor was relentless, until he decided to plant a kiss on your lips.

He captured your lips with intent, slowly slotting your bottom lip between his. Trevor always kissed you with purpose, slow, like he was trying to memorize you. He slid his mouth into your tongue like he was trying to lap up your sweetness, keep it on his tongue until he could place your taste and replicate it in a dish or a drink, something he’d be willing to consume every day for the rest of his life. You liked most when he nibbled on your bottom lip before pulling away, something that was so trademark Trevor that it made you breathless. He would always pull back just to look at you, to push your hair out of your face, before diving back in.

He kissed you so gently, so sweetly, that when you felt his bulge press against you, you were almost caught off guard.

“Been thinking about you,” Trevor purred against your lips. “About what you said the other day.”

You froze and Trevor pulled away, hovering over you. He searched your face carefully.

“We don’t have to,” He reassured you. “You know we don’t have to. I’d never make you.”

“I want to,” You replied, voice small. “I’m just… scared.”

“Scared of what?” Trevor asked.

“What if I gag and I throw up all over you?” You cringed at the mere thought. “I’ll die if that happens.”

Trevor stifled a laugh. “I’ll shower and I’ll wait two weeks before letting you near my dick with your mouth again,” He answered, an easy smile turning up the corners of his mouth.

You pouted at him. “You’re not taking this seriously.”

“I am!” He protested. “Baby, you’re not going to throw up on my dick.”

“What if I do?”

“I just told you what we’d do if you threw up on my dick!”

“Okay, well, you’re not being very supportive of my fears.”

Trevor sighed and placed his hands on your shoulders. He stared deeply into your eyes. “I understand you are afraid of vomiting on my penis. I assure you, that will not happen.”

“How can you be so sure?” You whined.

“It’s never happened before,” Trevor said. He leaned down to kiss the spot under your ear. “Plus, baby, I’m going to go so slow that you’ll be begging for more by the end of it.”

A shiver ran down your spine at that, the way he whispered the words in your ear so his hot breath danced over your skin igniting a flame between your legs.

“Why don’t,” Trevor began, his hand making his way to your clothed mound, “I show you just how good getting head would make me feel?”

His deft fingers rubbed in circles over your clit, the pressure just intense enough to make you moan.

“Would you like that? I’ll get my tongue on you, make you come once, maybe twice…” Trevor kissed you, his lips sliding over yours, his tongue teasing its way into your mouth then out of it. “And then we can revisit the idea of getting your mouth on me?”

“Yeah,” You agreed lamely, the heat between your legs growing more slick with each circle of his fingers and each wet kiss.

Trevor stood from where he was lain on top of you. He untied your apron, which you had almost forgotten he was wearing, and tossed it to the side. He grabbed under your knees and dragged you down towards the arm of the couch, throwing one leg over the arm and setting your other foot on the floor. He kept a hand on that knee, rubbing smooth lines up and down your skin with his thumb. With his other hand, he traced the line of your folds through the fabric of your sweat-shorts.

They were a loose pair, gray and almost threadbare after years of washes and use. The fabric of the shorts was the thinnest barrier Trevor could have faced. You could have put on panties when you got out of the shower, but had opted just for these shorts instead. They were more comfortable. Now, they were just something stopping him from getting his mouth on you.

Except, it didn’t stop him.

Trevor mouthed over your clit, giving it an open-mouthed kiss. You whimpered at the shock that it sent up your body, causing your fingertips to twitch at your side. He ran his tongue over the length of your pussy and chuckled to himself when your hips jumped beneath him.

“Relax, honey,” Trevor said, his words muffled because he was still pressed against you. “Relax and enjoy.”

His fingers came up and moved your shorts out of the way, revealing you to him. Chastely, he kissed your folds, then pointedly blew cold air over your entrance.

“Trev,” You let out, reaching a hand towards his, still rubbing on your knee. He intertwined his fingers with yours, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

Trevor licked his way up to your clit again, capturing it between his lips and sucking. He rolled the bud on his tongue, causing your hips to lift again. “Be good,” He told you, voice low. His eyes were closed as he continued to lick over you, practically french kissing your lower lips the same way he would the ones on your face.

It was a gradual build, the coil in your stomach tightening. You squeezed Trevor’s hand and ground down on his tongue. He flattened his tongue against your clit, letting you hump it, before he tensed it at your entrance and prodded his way into you. He flicked the muscle fast, and the sensation was all too much for you.

You came undone with a loud cry, your thighs closing around Trevor’s head involuntarily.

He continued to lap at your release, cleaning you up and only stopping when you relaxed beneath him and pushed him away.

“How was that?” Trevor asked, his face level with yours.

You reached out and looped your arms around his neck, dragging him forward until your lips crashed against his. This kiss, at your direction, was much more passionate. You could taste yourself on his tongue and you moaned into his mouth. You turned, pushing at Trevor until he was the one seated on the couch. You found yourself on his lap, grinding down on his bulge.

“So you liked it?” Trevor asked.

You let out a laugh and sucked a hickey under his jaw. “Teach me how to make you feel good like that.”

Trevor shuddered when you scraped your teeth over his pulse point. “On your knees,” He told you. He guided you, with a hand on your shoulder, between his legs.

The sight of you there, feet tucked prettily under you, hands clasped in front of you, has Trevor’s dick twitching in his pants.

“Take my dick out, baby,” Trevor said, his voice soft but firm.

He lifted his hips as you pulled at his shorts. They pooled around his ankles, leaving him in just his briefs.

“Give me your hand.”

You reached up and he took your wrist, guiding your hand toward his bulge. He let your hand rest just to the side of him.

“Touch me. Over my pants.”

You traced the line of his dick over his pants, biting your lip when it jumped under your finger. You palmed him, fitting your hand over the curve of him and beginning to rub him up and down.

Trevor’s head tilted back and he let out a groan. “Faster.”

You sped up, just as he had asked you to, bringing your other hand up to cradle his balls.

“Fuck,” Trevor moaned, inadvertently tipping his hips up into your hand. “Take it out.”

You rushed to do so, scraping your nails against his sides when you pulled at his waistband. Trevor hissed at that, but didn’t say anything. When his dick was revealed to you, standing proud and dripping from the tip, you took it in your hand and leaned down to hesitantly lick his slit.

Trevor’s hands flew to your hair, the strands falling between his fingers. “Again,” He breathed out, eyes wide.

You licked his tip again, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“Oh my God,” Trevor drawled out, borderline whimpering. “Baby, fuck, please.”

You smiled, proud of yourself for reducing him from someone who was so sure of himself and so loud to someone who is whining just from your touch. You circled your lips around his lip, sucking lightly.

His dick twitched. “So good,” Trevor praised. “Can you take more?”

You nodded out of instinct, but the sensation made him garble out an unintelligible string of words. You sunk down lower on his dick, feeling your lips stretch as you take him down your throat. You bobbed your head up and down slowly, feeling how he slid in and out of you. The taste of him on your tongue was addicting– salty and just so man. You moaned, the vibrations enveloping Trevor’s dick in a way that made him buck up into your throat. You gagged, a tear forming on your waterline.

Trevor grabbed your hair and pulled you up, just barely off the head of his dick.

“You okay?” He asked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you gag.”

You cleared your throat and nodded. “You taste so good, Trevor.” Trevor’s jaw dropped at the tone of your voice, light and innocent and sexy because it was worn with use.

“Fuck, suck me again, just take it,” Trevor encouraged, gathering your hair into a ponytail.

You lowered your mouth onto Trevor again, tracing your tongue over the vein on the underside of his dick. You used one hand to pump the part of his dick that you couldn’t fit into your mouth. You bobbed up and down, covering your teeth as best you could, but Trevor relished in the ghost of a scrape over his member when you got caught up in the moment.

He was groaning, babbling above you, his abs flexing as he drowned in pleasure. His face was flushed and you whined when you saw the mark that you left on his sharp jawline.

“Baby, you’re so good,” Trevor groaned. “You’re gonna make me come.”

You reached a hand down into your shorts and fingered furiously over your clit, swooning with the sensation there and of the weight on your tongue.

Trevor leaned forward and spotted your movements, saw your hand moving from inside your shorts. “Oh my God, fuck, yeah, make yourself come, too, baby…”

You gave it your all, twisting your hand around the length of Trevor that wasn’t inside your mouth. Drool slid out of your mouth, offering plenty of lubrication for your hand, making it easier to jerk him.

“God, fucking– baby, let me come on your face. Please, wanna see it on you,” Trevor begged.

He said it right as your fingers teased your entrance in just the right way, and you came for the second time that night, kneeling on the carpet for your boyfriend’s pleasure.

You pulled off of Trevor, but kept your mouth open, sticking your tongue out. He took his dick in his hand and jacked himself off quickly, hand flying over his length.

“Close your eyes,” Trevor warned, panting like he couldn’t catch his breath. “Don’t– fuck– don’t want to get my come in your eye.”

You obeyed him, reluctantly losing sight of his figure. There would be plenty of other times where you could watch his face contort with the bliss of his orgasm, but it’s nothing compared to the feeling of his hot, sticky come fall on your cheeks before Trevor aims his release at your tongue.

“God, Y/N,” Trevor groaned out. “I kind of want to take a picture of you like this.”

“Can I open my eyes?” You asked, “Wanna look up at you.”

“Yeah,” Trevor agreed, eyes fluttering as he took in the sight of you with his come on your face. When your eyes opened and met his, he felt himself starting to harden again. “Now I really want to take a picture.”

You wiped some of the come off of your cheek with your thumb before licking it off the digit. “Next time. I believe you promised me a home cooked dinner.”

notes: dear trevor zegras, i <3 you and think we could really get up to no good if you'd just give me a look. also, i wrote this at work. also, also, my coworker was sitting next to me and one of the elderly ladies asked me what i was typing. no comment.

#puck-luck's fics #trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras x y/n #trevor zegras smut #nhl smut #nhl x reader #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #andy writes anything🍄#tz11 #hockey smut

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byuntrash101 · 3 months

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booksmart

f!reader x switch!mingi smut | mdni 3.1k maybe mingi didn’t make the smartest choice picking a stem major? because the classes proves themselves to be rather difficult especially when mingi as to learn about the female anatomy without having any “field knowledge” on the subject. but as his tutor it’s your duty to help him study, by all means necessary. nsfw tags under the cut

loser virgin!mingi with the glasses (i love him so much it hurts), also switch sub leaning!mingi, tutor!reader, use of anatomical terms (reader takes her tutoring job v srly) + clueless mingi (he's cute), exhibitionism/voyeurism, masturbation (f), oral (f), mingi gets pussy drunk fassstttt, pet names (baby, good boy, babyboy), squirting, cum eating, cumming untouched

a/n: wrote this in a fever dream as i was crawling out of writer's block. i kinda love it did you know i loved mingi? yeah i do. he's cute and im weak for him. enjoy this <3

ateez masterlist | navigation

Why? Oh why did Mingi have to choose a STEM major? Why didn’t he go towards something that was a little easier or, failing that, at least a little more fun! Like music! He liked music. Why didn’t he go to a more artistic major? He could be learning about different types of harmonies or the life stories of his favorite composers or even the advent of the greatest musical genres. But no, instead he was stuck here in his small student flat, pulling his hair out trying to cram his brain with the reproductive system. Hunched over the thick and worn out second hand textbook.

“I can’t” he said, calling it quits, whipping his big glasses off his nose and throwing his hands in the air in a rather dramatic manner. Which made you chuckle.

Of all your tutees Mingi was easily your favourite. Sure he was one of the most difficult ones because studying didn’t come naturally to him but still he was very endearing. There was something in the way he looked at you with round eyes when he was confused or how his lips curled on his teeth and made an asymmetrical smile when got the right answer. Mingi was just cute without even trying, despite his towering height, his low gravelly voice and his eyes that turned sharp (maybe even cold) when he was focussing. He was just cute. He may look cold but as soon as you get to know him he turns out to be an endearing goofball.

He might even be the sole reason you kept on tutoring this year even with your thesis coming close to the deadline, the research for internships and the immense amount of reading your professors required.

“Yes, you can!” you said pointing at the schema on the yellowed page.

“No I can’t! I’m not book smart!” Mingi said again, this time a little more whiny. “How can I memorize that when I've never even seen this…” he gestured to the anatomical sketch of the female reproductive system. “In real life.” He exhaled, seemingly not conscious of what he had just admitted, taking his head in his big hands.

Your head was spinning with the unprompted confession. And you both sat there in silence for a couple of seconds. Mingi in oblivious desperation and you in speechless astonishment.

But an idea sprouted in your mind. If this lack of practical experience was the reason behind Mingi’s memory troubles, you reckon nature gifted you with everything that was presented in this textbook. Maybe empirical science would help in this case. The least you could do was try, that was only your duty as a tutor.

Mingi was startled when he felt you lift from under his bent elbows and close the heavy textbook, making him look up through his fingers. You sighed deeply before continuing softly.

“Mingi,” you started, a kind of heaviness about the voice Mingi never heard before, the contrast with your normal “patient teacher" tone made him finally realize what he had said to you in a fleeting moment of desperate academic honesty.

Mingi started to stammer, his heart rate skyrocketing, his eyes darting to every corner of the room trying to come up with an excuse to why he still was a virgin loser or better yet a quick lie that would make him appear like a totally cool guy that definitely pulled girls, yes, multiple girls. But nothing came to mind and he was completely silenced when you laid your hand over his thick thigh.

“Mingi…Do you want me to show you?” you said, barely above a whisper, you felt his thigh tense under your touch as Mingi looked back at you, mouth agape like a fish out of the water and round clueless eyes. So you cleared your throat and talked in a more assured tone. “If it can help you study, I'm willing to show you mine” you said in one breath.

Mingi was no longer agitated. He wasn’t wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans or stammering or looking everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Now, his eyes were locked with yours, and he was an immovable statue. But it was only because he was absolutely dumbfounded. He was stunned into silence, his thoughts weren’t coming through, they were completely silenced by your voice, this weird combination of words that made the sentence you just spoke infinitely reverberate in his blank mind until he faintly nodded, unable to form a coherent train of thought anymore.

You nodded and smiled softly at him. Mingi didn’t even return the smile he kept on staring in disbelief. Even when you got up and pulled your chair from under his desk and turned it so you would perfectly face him and even when your hands slipped under your pleated skirt and pulled down your underwear. You glanced over at him when you tossed to the side the crumpled up piece of white lace and you smirked when you saw him finally close his mouth to thickly swallow as his eyes zeroed in on the undergarment discarded on his bedroom floor.

Before his eyes snapped back to you when you seated yourself on this chair, your hips scooted to the front and your back comfortably leaned on the office chairback. His eyes followed your every move as you placed one foot on the edge of the desk and the other leg bent and hanging in the air. You took a deep breath before lifting your skirt.

Mingi thought he was going to pass out as he fumbled to put his glasses back on, not even trying to put them on straight on his nose. His face was burning hot and his heart was absolutely hammering against his ribs, and rattling in his ears. He felt the frantic muscle doped with adrenaline pumping blood not only to his brain, making him lightheaded but also to his groin.

Mingi had never laid eyes on anything more beautiful ever. You were so perfect he couldn’t describe it but he didn't want to look anywhere else ever again he wanted to keep on staring you right between the legs until he eventually died from thirst, hunger or sleep deprivation. He wanted to keep looking forever and ever.

You cleared your throat once again and ignored both the tingle in your lower stomach as you felt Mingi’s scrutinizing gaze on your most private part and the tent he was visibly pitching his jeans by now.

“See here is the labia majora” you started, making your voice as steady as possible. You looked up at him but it seemed like you were speaking to a brick wall, Mingi was entranced and wasn’t listening to a single word you were saying.

“Mingi!” you called his name firmly and his eyes snapped to yours. “Focus!” you scolded him.

“Yeah… s-sorry” he apologized sheepishly, his cheeks and ears going to an even deeper shade of pink.

“As I was saying, this is the labia majora and here is the labia minora.” you said as neutrally as possible trying to overlook the need that was bubbling in the pit of your stomach the more Mingi looked at you.

“M-majora and minora” Mingi repeated as diligently as possible.

“Good! Let’s take a closer look” you said before spreading your lips with both hands, offering Mingi a breathtaking view on your entrance.

Mingi had to repress a gasp. He felt himself twitch as he saw your pink hole being spread open, he could quite literally see inside you. And as you did so some translucent liquid oozed out of you. He was pretty sure that wasn’t part of the anatomical drawing that was in his textbook. He never saw that even in the porns he had watched. All he knew was that the sight made his cock jump inside his tight pants and he bit his lip to keep a low groan behind his teeth as his pants were rubbing on his sensitive cockhead.

“And here-”

“Ex-excuse me” Mingi interrupted you hesitantly, “what is this liquid?”

Fuck.

You did your best to overlook the excitement and arousal that came along with the exercise and the way Mingi was eyeing you down, devouring you with each look and trying so hard to keep his hands at his sides. But your body eventually betrayed you.

“That’s a lubricating fluid that is secreted by the Skene glands to facilitate coitus,” you said as steadily as possible. “That happens when a woman is aroused.”

Those words hit Mingi like a truck launched at full speed on the highway. You were aroused? Like right now? You were enjoying showing yourself like this to him? You liked having him look at you? He was feeling dizzy. He couldn’t imagine you (even if he was in fact witnessing it with his very eyes) getting hot and bothered because of him. That was all a dream. It had to be.

“Aroused?” Mingi repeated, more to himself than anything as he fixed his askew glasses pushing them up the bridge of his nose absentmindedly.

“There are other signs too”

Mingi’s ears perked up.

“Other signs?” He swallowed thickly. “C-can you show me? P-please” The last word was soaked with desperation and dripping with such despair, he sounded like a parched man begging for the sip of water that was going to save his life and when his eyes met yours you realized he was also looking the part.

“O-okay” you said, failing to maintain the self assured tone.

“When a woman is aroused more blood is pumped to her private area which causes swelling and changes in color.” you said drawing a sharp gasp as your fingers dipped to your entrance to spread your wetness over your folds. “See, right now” you pulled on the skin of your pubic bone, pulling on the hood of your clit, uncovering the swollen bud. “My clitoris is swollen”

“Fuck” Mingi let the whispered curse slither thought his teeth as he looked at the swollen bundle of nerves being revealed to his very eyes. At this point he felt like his cock was going to rip through his jeans but still he behaved accordingly and refused to acknowledge the poor member's pleas for attention.

“I have a question.”

“Y-yes” you breathed out, spreading more arousal on your touched starved pussy.

“Is it true that girls get the most pleasure from their clit?” he stated in one surprisingly coherent sentence.

“Yes” you replied simply, your breathing becoming uneven.

“Can you show me that too?”

Mingi was ready to risk it all. At this point he wasn’t thinking about tomorrow anymore. To be exact he wasn’t thinking at all anymore. He only knew he liked looking at you. He wanted to keep looking. He wanted to see it all.

“Okay” you started. “I’ll show you how I make myself feel good”. Mingi thought he was going to explode, spontaneously combust in front of you as he heard those words coming from your mouth.

You started to draw small and slow circles on your swollen clit and Mingi could tell the enigmatic little nub loved the attention because you elicited a moan that hit him right in the chest. A sound he will never forget. Nothing like the pornographic high pitched screeches he was used to. This one was lower, more sultry and slower. Like the sound caught in your throat but eventually made it out into the world against your will. And you bit your lip right after, your eyes growing heavier, hazier. You looked so beautiful.

He looked at you rubbing your pretty pussy and drawing out all these beautiful sounds out of yourself, more slick gushing out of you as your pretty pussy pulsed and tensed. He was mesmerized, completely entranced by you

“Does it feel good?” he asked as his eyes went back up to your pretty face being contorted by intense pleasure.

“Yes, it does. I like when you look at me” you confessed looking up at him with hooded eyes.

“Fuckkk” he sighed, his weeping cock twitching between his heavy thighs. “I like looking at you.”

You moaned again and picked up the pace, dipping to your entrance again to gather more wetness and dragging it up to your throbbing clit. The patterns you were drawing on your pussy were quicker and tighter, making you moan louder.

The squelching wet sounds erupting from the act made Mingi dizzy. How bad did he want to bend down and taste you, how bad did he want to get his tongue on your cunt, feel you throb under him as he lapped at you clit. He wanted to see you cum. He wanted to make you cum.

But he didn’t dare to touch you when you hadn’t asked. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable so he stuck to the script. He didn’t even succumb to the desire to take his own cock out to stroke it as he looked at you and to be completely honest he was scared to be distracted from the breathtaking show. Even for a single second he didn’t want to take his eyes off you.

“See how my pussy… mnph… is clenching?” you struggled to say, short of breath, your hand not slowing down. Mingi nodded quickly, his eyes darting from your cunt to your face back to your pussy. “That means I’m close to climax” Mingi’s eyes grew twice their size as he nodded again, expectantly.

“When a woman orgasms… oh f-fuck… the vagina spasms” you said, inching dangerously close to your release. “if you want you can put a finger inside and feel it”

Mingi was not about to turn down such a generous proposition and nodded hastily. He hesitantly approached his hand, he didn’t really know what to do though so you took his wrist and guided his index through your fold, coating it in your juices and jolting at the contact before pushing his digit inside your tight heat with a low moan, it was just a finger but the stretch made it that much more pleasurable and you went back to rubbing your clit.

“Fuck… yess” you breathed. “Don’t move it”

Mingi couldn’t believe how warm and wet and tight you were, your pussy was lightly clenching around his finger everytime your fingers circled your clit.

“Do you feel it?” you asked, a little squeaky. Mingi nodded again.

“Yes. Y-you’re throbbing” he said peering at you over his large glasses you smiled.

“Yes it’s cause I’m very close” you kept on teasing your bundle of nerves. “Some women squirt when they orgasm” you started.

“Can you do that?” Mingi asked hurriedly, his eyebrows arching on his forehead, curious eyes close to bulge out.

“Y-yes.”

“Fuckkk… Can I please drink it?” Mingi blurted. “Please I wanna taste it so bad” He couldn’t stop the question that burned his tongue. He had been curious about that ever since he first saw it in a porn video and to see you do that. He couldn’t let his chance pass.

Seeing him like this, begging you to have a taste of you almost had you crossing the line but you held on.

“Yes, come closer” Mingi threw himself on his knees without thinking twice. “Open your mouth baby” Mingi bent over you, opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out, his dick twitching again at the novel term of endearment. You entangled your fingers in his soft locks of hair and pushed on his face until his lips were pressed against your folds, making him moan against your cunt, his finger still stuck inside your heat.

“Such a good boy. So eager to learn” you praised and Mingi started to instinctively buck his hips against nothing, the wet patch in his boxers growing larger with each pathetic and useless thrust.

“Fuck” he said, finally getting some of your juices in his mouth as your fingers rubbed your clit and occasionally brushed on his tongue. “Tho kood” he said, keeping his tongue out of his mouth, patiently waiting.

“Fuck keep looking at me touching myself for you babyboy” you grunted, pulling on Mingi's soft hair. The dull pain made him whimper against your soaked little cunt, urging him to rutt his hips faster.

“Fuck I'm gonna… fuckkkk… m’cumming” you said, finally slipping over the edge as a powerful stream of translucent liquid spurted out of you making Mingi instantly wrap his lips around your folds and drink as much of it as he could as he continued to pathetically hump the air. The wave of intense pleasure radiated your whole body making you shake and moan under Mingi’s hungry lips, your cunt taking a vice grip onto Mingi’s finger. You continued to circle your clit until the pleasure wore off and you finally came down from your high, out of breath but utterly satisfied.

When Mingi emerged from between your thighs he was disheveled, dazed. His face was a mess: his lips were swollen and his glasses were crooked and spotted with droplets of your release. He was completely dazzled but he looked content.

“Are you okay?” you asked hesitantly, closing your legs and flipping your skirt back, sitting back up straight.

“I came in my pants” Mingi declared, looking down at the dark blue wet patch on his jeans. “You looked so hot, you tasted so good… I- I-...and you called me a good boy… And I- lost it. I’m sorry I-” Mingi stammered again and you chuckled. You weren’t wrong about him. Mingi was definitely very cute.

“I hope you learned a lot today” you said, smiling warmly at him, and Mingi felt like his heart was going to fall out of his chest. How can you look so heavenly, so undoubtedly innocent when two seconds ago you were pulling his hair, shoving his face in your wet pussy and making his virgin ass cum without even touching him?

“Yes. I learned a lot. More than I ever hoped for”

“Maybe next time we can practice what you learned today. Okay?” you smiled again, but there was a mischievous glint in your innocent doe eyes.

“You mean we-” Mingi started but you cut him by jumping onto your feet, grabbing your purse and heading to the door of his room. On your way you bent down and picked up the white lace panties before throwing them at Mingi.

“That's a little gift for you” He caught the undergarment and looked up at you through his wet lenses just as confused as ever. Classic Mingi. “Use it as study material okay?” He nodded again, without saying a word and you headed out the door.

“Class dismissed”

a/n: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. MINGIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII. thats it.

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obessedwithfictionalmen · 2 months

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You want my jacket?

John Egan X W.A.C! Reader

Summary: Y/n wants Bucky's jacket, but they have a little competition before...

Warning: Swearing/ sport inaccuracies (Wikipedia stats)/ use of Y/n/ flirting/ mention of erection/ kiss/ sexism (little bit)

Word count: 1.1k

The music was loud, Y/n and her friends made their way through the room, it was a party in their honor, and someone’s 25th mission. The W.A.C division Y/n was in just got transferred to Thorpe Abbotts. Y/n was a weather broadcaster, she was going to brief the men on the conditions they were going to fly. She liked her job, sure it was boring sometimes, but she got the insight on big mission and her job was important. She felt like she was truly having an impact on the war, not a big one, but still.

When John Egan learned that W.A.C were coming on the base, he was like every man on the base; excited. Unlike Buck, he didn’t have anyone to write to at home, he was single and loved woman! When his eyes stopped on Y/n, he knew that he needed to talk to her. Her uniform fitted her so good; her curves were highlighted, and he always loved woman with curves. So, when he walked up to her, he was a little nervous, but he tried to hide it.

‘’Hello ladies’’ he said, looking at all the woman, then he looked at the one he wanted. ‘’Hi, I’m Major John Egan, but please call me Bucky, what’s your name, gorgeous?’’ he flirted. Y/n blushed and hid a giggle. ‘’I’m Y/n, nice to meet you’’ she extends her hand for him to take. The other girls were a giggling mess. When Bucky took her hand, she felt something pass through them, maybe she was just nervous, but it felt weird. They went to sit at a table and Bucky ordered drinks. ‘’So, Y/n, what are you doing here?’’ he asked, looking at her. ‘’I’m the new weather broadcaster, so we’re going to see each other a lot’’ she flirted. Words of his reputation had got to Y/n’s ears, when the Colonel briefed them on the attitude of the men at the base, the woman were warned about Major Egan. Y/n was curious to see if his reputation was true. ‘’You’ll be Miss Sunshine?’’ he asked, with a grin on his face. ‘’Exactly, but with this English weather, I’ll be Miss Cloud, Rain and Fog’’ she joked. He laughed at her joke, he always thought English weather was shit. ‘’Maybe your presence will bring more sun over the base’’ he took a sip of his drink. Y/n tilted her head, before taking a sip of her drink.

‘’I highly doubt that, but hey I’ll probably die of cold, you on the other hand, you’re going to be okay with that beautiful jacket’’ she smiled. He looked at his jacket, then looked at her. ‘’You like my jacket?’’ he asked, with a crooked eyebrow. She nodded as she finished her drink. ‘’Yeah, they didn’t give us any jacket, they didn’t have the money for us’’ she chuckles. A wicked idea came to her mind, she was a fan of baseball, so was he… ‘’Okay, what about a quiz, on the subject of your choice, if I win, I get your jacket, if you win, what do you want if you win?’’ she says. ‘’I want a kiss’’ he grins. ‘’Then if you win, you’ll get your kiss. You in?’’ she asked. He nodded and called Curt, he was a fan of baseball and knew the Yankees. ‘’I’m on, and by the way, I hope your baseball knowledge is good, you know the Yankees, sunshine?’�� he teased. He was 100% sure he was going to win; nobody knew baseball as good as him, but that’s what he thought. Y/n was grinning like a devil, she was getting that jacket!

‘’Ok, last question since you’re both equal in points, Spud Chandler broke the record for what this season?’’ Curt asked. Y/n thought for a second and then took the apple, it was their buzzer. ‘’Y/n?’’ the room went silent; money was changing hands around the bar. Their little competition was the main entertainement right now, soldiers couldn’t believe that someone knew baseball better than Bucky. ‘’ Lowest earned run average in a season’’ she said, smiling. Curt pushed his tongue on his cheek before looking at other guys. ‘’That’s right, you officially win!’’ He exclaimed, making the woman and some guy’s cheer for her. Bucky’s jaw was on the floor, that woman knew baseball, was supporting the Yankees and she just beat him. Now he had to give her his jacket! Bucky looked at the woman, she was smiling proudly. He smiled as he shook his head. He went closer to her. ‘’Let’s get out of here, sunshine’’ he said, she nodded, and they went outside.

‘’How come you know that much about baseball?’’ he asked. They started to walk around the base. ‘’Weather girl wasn’t my original plan, I wanted to be a sport reporter, but because I’m a woman, it’s impossible, but I know a lot about sports’’ she explained. He thought he was dreaming; this woman was surreal. ‘’That was really impressive, even though you beat me, it was amazing’’ he said, he truly meant it, he was in awe before her. ‘’Thank you, but I think you owe me something’’ she grins. Bucky rolls his eyes before taking his precious jacket off. ‘’Take care of it’’ he said, before giving it to her. ‘’Can you help me put it on?’’ she asked. Her back was facing him, he helped her put the jacket on, smelling her perfume properly for the first time. She smelled good, too good, it was going to be stuck in his mind now. Seeing her in his jacket kina turned him on, he didn’t know why, but it was a problem. ‘’Thank you, Major’’ she smiled proudly. ‘’I wish I could say it's my pleasure, but that would be a lie’’ he said, laughing to hide his pain. Y/n giggled as they continued their walk.

‘’That’s me, I have to go to bed early. I’m waking up at 0500 tomorrow I have to do my job’’ she smiles. Bucky nods quickly, expecting her to walk to her building, but she stays in front of him. ‘’Since we were equal, it’s only fair that you get your part of the bet’’ she says. Before he could process what she meant she quickly kiss him on the lips. By the time he acknowledges what just happened, she’s already at the door. ‘’Good night, Bucky, thanks for the jacket’’ she says, his name sounding like a prayer on her lips. ‘’Good night sunshine’’ he said. She blew him a kiss before entering the building, with his jacket on her. Yep, his problem was definitely growing more…

#callum turner #callum turner x reader #callum turner imagine #master of the air #john egan x reader #master of the air imagine #major john egan #john egan

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diamondsunbursts-and-marblehalls · 4 months

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At the end of everything Percy chooses to be on Luke's side, not Kronos's, not the gods' but Luke's. Luke, who was just a kid forced to grow up too soon, Luke, who has been angry his whole life, forced to protect people he cared about without any resources, forced to go on the run, forced to flee to a place that's supposed to be safe only to find out it reeks of generations of kids who were abused and mistreated by parents who didn't care, taught that love was transactional, taught that glory is everything and forced to reach for an impossible standard of glory to achieve that love.

I think ultimately Percy is the child of the prophecy because he was taught from a very young age that love should be unconditional, but he also learned from a young age that not all love is. He WAS Luke. The same anger towards the gods, the same desperate need for change, the same feelings of helplessness. Luke sees himself in Percy, and I think part of the reason Percy made the choice to give Luke the knife is because he sees himself in Luke. Everything Luke has ever said about the gods, about demigods, about the system, Percy has said those same things. Out loud.

The difference is that Luke consistently chose anger over love. From the very beginning of his story, he compromised the safety of those he was supposed to protect by picking fights, and he turned to a darker force to combat the helplessness of his existence, maybe he still cared about Annabeth and about family at the beginning but it didn't take much time for that to change. He discards Annbeth's life; the one person he promised to stand by and protect, he's careless with the lives of other half-bloods, he's cruel.

I love the effort that they are making in the show to portray Percy as a mirror to Luke from the very beginning, way before new viewers even know what's going to happen at the end. Percy is saying, "The gods have done nothing for me, they have done nothing but hurt the people I care about, we would be better off without them". Luke is undoubtedly the villain and the choices he made were his own, but at the same time, he was just a kid who felt helpless and alone. Because of that, he chose the anger he felt towards the gods over the love he had for his family, and that's where Percy is different.

Athena once said to Percy that he would let the world burn just to save a friend. His love and his loyalty are so strong that he couldn't sacrifice anyone he cared about if it meant saving the world. Unrealistic or not, there is something beautiful about the idea of someone who cares enough about you to think that a world without you in it isn't a world worth saving at all.

Kronos tries to paint loyalty, family ties and love as a weakness, when we all know that it was the only thing that had any power against him. Luke allows himself to be corrupted to the point where he sees those things as weaknesses as well until Kronos loses everything because of one little girl and what she represents. Annabeth's reminder of Luke's promise was the one thing that gave him enough strength to take control. The reminder that he loved someone and that he promised to be her family has the power to break him from the control of the most powerful evil.

It's the reminder of the love he had before he chose anger that gives him the strength to defeat that anger. And it's the love he always had for the demigods seeping back in that gives him the strength to stay alive long enough for Percy to promise to protect them.

I don't know that he would have had the strength to destroy Kronos without the knowledge that Percy would be there to finish the fight that he had lost sight of. He spent years fighting Percy, and he watched him choose the half-bloods over and over again, Luke saw how much anger he had, and saw him choose love instead. Luke knew that Percy would be able to do something that he had never been able to do, choose to protect the people he loves before hurting the people he hates. Everything Luke did, he did to punish the gods for the way they treated their kids, and everything Percy did, he did to protect those kids. Luke couldn't have destroyed Kronos if he didn't know that someone who cared about those kids as much as he did would be there to protect them the way he tried and failed to.

#unfortunately i've been a luke castellan apologist since birth #and now i have to suffer #rip hater you're not going to like this one #you know who you are #percy jackson #luke castellan #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #the lightning thief #the last olympian #pjo tv show #pjo series #pjo tv series #annabeth chase #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson spoilers #pjo spoilers

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cheapshrimpysheep · 10 months

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First Date - Diasomnia

SUMMARY: What would your first date with him be like? I know first dates might not go so well, but let's pretend these are different. ;)

CHARACTERS: Malleus Draconia; Silver; Sebek Zigvolt & Lilia Vanrouge

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Flirting; Kissing

WARNING: None. Except maybe a little spoiler about Silver that he tells in Twisted Halloween: Spectral Soiree

WORD COUNT: An average of 710 words per character.

Heartslabyul / Savanaclaw / Octavinelle / Scarabia / Pomefiore / Ignihyde / Diasomnia

COMMENTS: I think Diasomnia is the hardest dorm to write for me. That's because, apart from Malleus, I don't have many romantic feelings for the others. I like them, I love Lilia, but not in that way. But I still try my best to write something that I think you will like. I just hope it's good enough.

I hope you enjoy ;)

Aaaah, the day has finally arrived. Malleus already wanted to ask you on a date for a long time. But with his status, doing something like that in public wasn't a good idea. Something like that being public knowledge could be bad for him and especially for you. After all, he learned from a young age to deal with rumors and social pressure. Besides, no one in their right mind would mess with him. But not only are you human, you can't even use magic. He doesn't even want to think about how your life could be affected because of him. At least for now.

So your first date would have to be discreet and even a secret. Fortunately, you two are quite fans of secrets. He doesn't tell you where he's going to take you. You only find out when the two of you are already in the front yard of the ruins of an abandoned mansion. If you also like abandoned places like him (and me) you will find that mansion fascinating! If you're not a big fan, maybe you'll be a little scared. But either way, you'll find it a strange and perhaps a little disappointing choice for a first date to say the least.

“Something the matter?” he asks you. You say no, that you're just intrigued and curious to know why he chose that place. He smiles, amused. “Then we must enter, to satisfy your curiosity.” he takes a step in front and extends his hand to you. “Shall we?” You take it and the two walk hand in hand through the undone front yard.

That place make you feel a little unease, so you end up squeezing his hand and taking your other hand to his arm, like hugging it. It makes him happy, knowing that you see him as someone who will protect you.

As soon as you walk through the front doors, you see that, despite being slightly run-down, the interior is magnificent. A mansion so gorgeous that seeing it in ruins even feels like blasphemy. He can see it in your face which makes him laugh. You are still holding hands, so he leads you to the dining room while he tells you a little about the history of that mansion. Nothing too scary. People had to evacuate many years ago and just never came back.

The dining room still had the long table, the chairs, the furniture, a few damaged paintings and even a vase of dead flowers in the middle of the table. He pulls out one of the chairs for you to sit on. This one was in bad shape, but as soon as he touched it, it instantly restored itself. You sit down, and he loves the way you're looking at him, intrigued to know what he's going to do.

Standing beside you and smiling at you, he snaps his fingers. And the entire room is restored with his magic. As if time were turning back to his state of glory. He never took his eyes off you. Your smile is the most beautiful thing in the entire mansion. And you are surprised again when the three ghosts of the Ramshackle Dorm appear as butlers to serve you dinner. Malleus asked them for that favor. Of course, your favourite dishes.

He sits right next to you. “Tell me, is this good enough for a first date? Should I restore the entire mansion and the garden as well?” You tell him how you feel, that it's more than enough, that it's one of the most beautiful things anyone's ever done for you. He takes your hands in his and look you in the eyes “I'm glad this pleases you so much. But something inside me wants a little more than this. I'm looking forward to the day when we'll be just like this, but in my castle and with my grandmother, the queen, getting to know you and seeing you as I do.” and he caresses your cheek.

You tell him how much you look forward to that day too, while smiling and bringing your forehead closer to his. After these touch each other, it's your lips' turn.

It will probably have to be you asking Silver out on a first date to wait for him to do it. Not that he didn't want to ask you, but he's not exactly the best in that department. He can be a little... clueless. You will catch him by surprise with your invitation. “A date? No, it's not that I don't want to go on one with you. It's quite the opposite. I'm sorry I didn't express it in the better way.” He gives you his sweetest smile and blushes a little “I-I would love to go on a date with you.”

When you ask about what you could do on this date, he asks you to let him be the one to prepare everything. Since it's the least he can do for not being the one inviting you. That and since he's from Twisted Wonderland, he might have an easier time figuring out places you can go together.

He's a simple, sweet guy who made the mistake of asking his dad for ideas. Luckily he is aware that bungee jumping would not be a good first date idea. Okay, okay, but after messing with his son for a bit, Lilia still manages to give a good tip: go to a place with animals and work your magic... Not your real magic, dummy.

Well, the only thing he can remember is a picnic. He just hope it's not too boring for you. He doesn't do anything too elaborate. Like I said, he's a simple guy. But the place he chose to take you was beautiful. a small glade in the forest on the edge of a small peaceful river. You can hear the water of the river mixed with the birds singing.

You hold the basket as he spreads out the picnic blanket. And suddenly, at the two opposite ends of the blanket, two little birds appear to help him spread it out. You can't hide your surprise and it makes him smile in amusement. You sit down and start your picnic. And some animals appear while you are distracted by each other.

You begin to notice that new birds of other colours have appeared. Squirrels, with both those big fluffy tails and the short-tailed ones. And rabbits, some gray and some brown. Silver sees the way you look at them, the face of someone who wants to pet them. So he uses his "magic" to make the animals approach him and you. Thanks to it, you can pet all those animals, birds, squirrels and rabbits. You may not realize it, but he smiles while seeing your own smile.

Suddenly, those animals start running away. But you don't know why. Until you hears very heavy footsteps approaching. Silver automatically stands and takes a defensive position in front of you to protect you. From the middle of the trees a big bear appears! You get scared, but Silver doesn't. In fact, he even relaxes a little. The bear itself is not even standing, it is standing on all fours and does not look angry.

Silver turns to you, smiling and extends a hand to you who were still sitting on the blanket. “Do not be afraid. I know this bear.” You look at him in shock. “Everything is fine. She just know I was here and wanted to say hello. Would you like to meet her?” You take his hand and he helps you up. He slowly approaches the bear, without taking his hands off your shoulders. He takes your hand and holds it out to the bear, who sniffs it and then lowers her head to let you pet her. A few seconds later you hear some small grunts near your feet. Cub bears!

His father was right. You were so happy playing with those cute little cubs. And even Mama Bear thought she should help you two out a little bit. She pushes you with her muzzle so you fall into Silver's arms. And you take the opportunity to hug him and tell him how amazing that date was being. And if you kiss him on the cheek, he'll kiss your cheek right back, until the two of you are on each other's lips.

(Lilia may or may not be spying on you two and celebrating in silence.)

How did you do that? All people who know Sebek are incredulous! It took a long time to arrive this moment. And meanwhile, the way he treats you has changed. He still calls you Human, but this time it's more like a pet name, a bit like Malleus calls you Child of Man. And he smiles at you a lot more, although most of the time he still has that serious grimace of his. And how did he invite you on the date?

“HUMAN!” he catches your attention and approaches you. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” The two of you move away from the others to speak more privately. And he starts to blush “I... um...” he takes a deep breath “Would you like to come with me on a date?” You often hear people saying that phrase in another word order, but still you accept, laughing a little. “You... EXCELLENT!” he smiles at you, the kind of smile he only gave Malleus. And says he will pick you up the next afternoon.

He knocks effusively on the door, so much so that it scares you. When you open the door, the first thing you see is a huge bouquet of chrysanthemums in your favourite colours. You pick it up and hold it in your arms. You look at Sebek and... um... I mean he looks very handsome and elegant, but was a suit like that needed for a first date? He looked more like he was in the new Operation Proposal group. Nonetheless, the sight of him in that suit could make you blush. He had a confident smile on his face until he looks at your clothes. Well, he didn't warn you that it was going to be that kind of date. So you dressed for a "normal" one.

“WHAT IS THAT? Don't tell me you don't have date clothes! You should have told me! I would have provided you with the best outfit for the occasion!” You argue with him a bit about there being different types of dates and he didn't specify the type of date because he wanted to surprise you. “*Sigh* You’re right. I apologize for not giving you enough information to choose your outfit correctly.” Fortunately, you had more suitable clothing for the occasion. You go up to your room to change and when you come down, you can see his smug face blush.

He takes you to... Diasomnia. He takes immense pride in his dorm and wanted to get you to the best place possible. He has prepared a room especially for the two of you. With the help of Lilia, Silver and maybe even Malleus. (Let's pretend in this "reality", Malleus isn't that attached to you) And, surprise or not: a candlelit dinner. In this case with green fire. Lilia told him it was a classic.

The main course was a typical traditional Briar Valley dish. But dessert was your favourite. Yes, there were times when he spoke of Malleus. You cannot change it on him. And later, somehow, you ended up talking about his parents. You start to tease him about his mother falling in love with a "mere" human. Couldn't that be a parallel with the two of you as well?

“Do not be ridiculous! I would never fall in love with a mere human! My standers are reasonably higher than that.” And if you ask him why you two are on a date: “Weren't you paying attention to what I was saying? I said that I would never fall in love with a mere human. I cannot believe you identify as one! Do you really believe that a mere human would do everything you've done? There are humans capable of using magic, who would never reach your heels. So, never again believe that you are on such a low level, do you hear me?!”

You smile, more flattered than ever. Which makes him smile too. This is your chance to challenge him to prove how special he really thinks you are. How? How about a kiss? After all, this is a date, isn't it?

The way Lilia asked you out on a date was so... him... that you didn't even know if he was just joking or being serious. Either way, you accepted it. Which seemed to surprise him a little. “Khee hee hee. Very well then. A date shall be.” If you ask when, he'll smirk at you. “You enjoy surprises as well, correct?” then he kisses your cheek and disappears.

You would be expecting him to show up at least the next day, right? And that's why he only appears the day after that. Or rather, the night after that. You hear knocking on your window, you draw the curtains, but you see nothing. Until he suddenly appears upside down outside. After the scare he gave you, you open the window.

“Khee hee. Good evening, prefect.” He looks at the pajamas you have on. “It's not what I expected you to wear for our date, but it sure is different. Khee hee, worry not. I'll give you time to change. I'll wait for you in the living room.” Before he leaves your room, you try to ask him where you are going so you know what to wear. “Um... very well, I'll give you a hint: dress to have fun.” And that's the only clue he gives you. Just in case, you dress in a little more sporty style, but still pretty.

He tells you it's an excellent choice and how good that outfit looks on you. You walk to the Mirror chamber for, through the looking glass, him to take you to... an Amusement Park. And since it's already night, the park is all lit up with the colours of the rides and food stalls. Coming from a kingdom solely reliant on magic, this sort of things are fascinating to him. And better, since magic is not necessary to have fun there, nothing prevents you from having as much fun as he does.

He will try to take you to the most crazy rides. If you like that, great! You are going to be the bravest couple in the entire park. Which will contrast with how cute you two are on the outside. If you don't like these rides. There is absolutely no problem. He will ride with you wherever you want and feel comfortable riding. The priority is you. If you are having fun, he will be having fun with you. That and, let's face it, this guy probably already did crazier things than riding a roller-coaster. Which means your fun is more important.

After the rides, you have dinner together at one of the food stalls. He offers to pay for everything. Old chivalry. After eating and before leaving, he suggests that the two of you take a look at the prize booths. He would like the two of you to carry away some good memories of that day.

A small plush of a black and pink bat catches your eye and you tell Lilia how much that plush reminds you of him. Not just for the colours (and the size) but also because both are so cute! “Would you like to try to win one? I make a point of paying for your attempts.” he doesn't want you to worry about money, just having fun.

The prize is a target shooting stand. You have to blow up the balloons with a dart. You have three tries, you need to get at least two right to get that bat. But everyone fails. Lilia notices that the prize booth guy is using magic to make you fail, but doesn't comment. Instead, he pretends not to have noticed and offers to win the plush for you himself.

Fooled by his cute appearance, the guy does the same trick on him, but it fails miserably. With just a quick gesture, he hits the three balloons in a row. Which surprises/scares the booth guy. He could get the highest prize, but he just wants the little bat. “Oh, actually I have a proposal for you.” he says with his cute smile. “What if, instead of the highest prize, you gave us those two stuffed bats? Maybe that could also redeem you from using magic against my dear date. Surely you regret using such a low trick?” he's still smiling, but his bright red eyes are menacing.

He got the black bat with pink details for you and a pink bat with black details for himself. Now, he also had something that reminded him of you. “I hope that trick of his didn't make you sad that your attempts failed.” You say maybe at first, but after seeing Lilia in action and scaring that guy, you're even glad you failed the balloons just to see that. “Khee hee hee. Your way of seeing the positive side of things is undoubtedly irresistible.” and he kisses your cheek “Um? Why that face? Were you expecting another kind of kiss?” he smirks, as an invitation to be yourself and get what you want from him.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

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baldursgate3tempobsessed · 7 months

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so I saw your requests are open. It seems that Astarion believes- at least in the beginning- that his purpose is to give pleasure. He does it to survive, he does it to gain Tavs trust and affection... what if Tav takes it upon herself to pleasure him. I HC Astarion is more dominant as he regains his autonomy, after centuries of having no say or control hiw would he react to Tav gently kissing him, asking him to let her make him feel good for a change. He's spent all this time giving, he deserves to receive for once. Expecting nothing in return.

Yaaas, let's go. I think I may have made this a lil fluffier than what you had in mind but hopefully it works! Playful/Sweet Tav! This is set before he admits his feelings but still in act 2 so he's like close!

TW: They bang and it's graphic under the cut with some mentions of his backstory, which is fucked up. But yeah, sexing is occurring. 18+ That's it. Pretty sweet outside of his backstory.

Astarion was aware the sex could be enjoyable, despite the centuries of the act being used against him. There had been glimmers of genuine pleasure through it all, mostly poisoned by the knowledge of what happened to all of his conquests when the job was finished after, but still. They were there.

Enough for Astarion to be somewhat prepared for the loveliness of being with you. When he had made the choice to seduce you, he had done it assuming that sex would be mediocre at best, and unpleasant at worst.

But no. Instead it just felt... wonderful. A word that Astarion was not used to associating with the deed. Though he supposed it made sense. He did like you after all, even outside of the protection he could get out of you. You were intelligent enough to make for good conversation; you were fun, mischievous even. Enough to match up with his own bitchy little quips. But you were also... sweet. Caring even, though it seemed you had a habit of giving that care to the least deserving mortals in the realm.

Not that that was a bad thing. He had been more than ready to use that kind nature against. It was so easy to worm his way into your heart. And the sex was good? Astarion's luck was almost certainly on the edge of running out, but he'd happily take advantage of the streak while he could.

You were just... so submissive. So ready for him to take the lead. Astarion had developed many personas in bed over the centuries, cultivating them for whatever situation he may need. But they were always tools, it had little or nothing to do with what he wanted. Just what he could use to lure them back to their deaths.

In all honesty, he had tried to do the exact same with you, and he would have too if he hadn't lost control on that first night. But then you had to bare your neck to him, the siren song of your blood screaming at him to bite. And then he just... lost control.

Was it the best sex of Astarion's life? Yes. Was he about to tell you that? No.

And it kept being good. Even on the nights he didn't drink from you, he liked it. Borderline loved it, if he was emotionally capable of associating that word with you. And he wanted to enjoy it while he could. He knew deep down that this was temporary, for more reasons than one. Soon enough he simply wouldn't need you anymore. After you defeated the demon for Raphael, Astarion would have some idea of Cazador's plans, and maybe enough to figure out a way to secure his freedom for good. And unless you planned on killing the man yourself, he... wouldn't have any reason to keep the facade going. Not to mention the obvious fact that you could wake up from your lust-induced stupor and break things off at any moment. Astarion wasn't looking forward to either outcome. But how else would this end? It's not like the two of you could set off into the sunset together, like some inane fairytale.

... right?

Astarion wasn't quite sure anymore. And he certainly wasn't going to figure it out any time soon. It was easier just to push the whole thing out of his mind. Especially now, when the two of you finally had a private room at the Last Light Inn, thank the gods. One more night of calm before they rushed into a temple full of horrors.

It was hard to hide his excitement as he pushed you onto the bed, his fangs already sharpening in anticipation. He wanted you to be marked head to toe by the end of the night, bites, bruises, anything and everything to remind you that you were his.

At least for tonight.

"Wait, wait!" You laughed as Astarion crawled over you, wasting no time in trying to claw your clothes off.

But the ask was enough to make him pause, a flash of worry running through his when he asked, "What's wrong? Did I- are you okay?"

You shook your head at him with a smile, your legs suddenly wrapping tightly around his waist "Nothing sweetheart, I'm fine. But..."

The next thing Astarion knew you were always flipping him over, so fast that he couldn't help but be impressed. He always underestimated just how strong you were. You grinned down at him as you sat atop his thighs, your hands rubbing over his chest through the thin fabric of his shirt, "But I think it's my turn to spoil you for a change."

Astarion furrowed his brow, sincerely confused for a moment. And maybe even a little self-conscious, "Why? I mean-do you not like how-"

"You're very good darling," You gently interrupted with a laugh, your hands already working to pull his shirt over his head, laughed as you sat atop his thighs, doing the work to unbutton his shirt, "Best I've ever had, sincerely. But don't you think that things have been a bit one-sided?"

He hadn't, not for a moment, but he sure as hells wasn't going to complain. Not when he had a gorgeous woman on top of him, one who was already doing the work of taking his cock out.

"Let me take care of you for once," You murmured as you started to stroke his length, pre-come already dribbling at the tip, "Anything you want is yours tonight. Just say the word."

Astarion blinked up at you, momentarily at a loss before regaining his usual confidence. Or at least some of it, "Taking your clothes off would be a fantastic start."

You laughed as you did just that, light and airy while you tore your shirt over your head. Astarion didn't waste any time in surging forward, latching his mouth around your nipple with a groan.

He wrapped his arms around your bare back, pulling you closer as you moaned.

"I'm supposed to be pleasing you," You panted as you slipped your skirt down your thighs, tossing it to the side as he suckled on your chest, "Remember?"

"Pleasing you pleases me," Astarion popped off with a chuckle, looking up at you with dark eyes, "Lovely thing that you are."

You softly smiled down at him before pressing a tender kiss to his lips. And then you were squirming away from him. Ducking out of his arms and lap.

He just hadn't expected you to sink to your knees in front of the bed. You rubbed at his thighs, so close to him that he could feel the heat of your breath against his length.

"Can I?" You asked coyly, the question sweet enough to make him shiver. He would never get tired of that, you always asking for permission for the smallest little things.

Astarion sat up with a smile and a nod, tangling his fingers in your hair as he said, "Of course my sweet, go right ahead."

And off you went. You wrapped your lips around the head, suckling on it like the little minx you were. You looked beautiful down there, your hair in disarray as you swallowed around his cock; more than happy to let him take the lead and force your head to take him fully down your throat.

You were drooling around him, staring up at him with your big wet eyes as you worked your tongue around him. It felt wonderful, amazing even. But it wasn't enough. As lovely as your throat was, it was only his second favorite place to store his cock.

"Get up here my love," Astarion ordered, his voice rough and his mind too preoccupied to notice his own slip. He tightened the hand in your hair, easing you off of his cock with a groan, "As wonderful as your mouth is, I want to be inside you."

You grinned up at him before gracefully standing, your breasts on full display, pretty enough to make Astarion's mouth water. You pushed him back first onto the bed before crawling over him again, the heat of your wet cunt so close to his sensitive cock. You gripped the base of it before rubbing the head over your folds, whimpering as you used him to circle your own clit.

It felt amazing, and it looked even better. But Astarion was nearly out of patience. He gripped your hips, his nails just on the edge of piercing your skin as he growled at you, "Are you trying to kill me darling?"

"Just the opposite," You breathily laughed as you finally started to sink down onto his cock, brokenly moaning all the while, "J-Just want to make you feel good."

You were so wet, tight and perfect around him. And the noises you were making, all of your little whimpers and whines. They would be haunting his dreams for years to come. But it still wasn't enough. Despite how lovely it was to have you bouncing in his lap, he couldn't help but thrust up inside of you, matching your movements in tandem.

You gasped as he really started to fuck into you, hard and deep enough to bring tears to your eyes. You were clutching at his chest, hard enough to make him bleed. Not that he cared. How could he when he had you like this? Desperate and needy as you pussy leaked slick onto him, so soaked that Astarion knew that you had to be close.

It had been a long instilled habit of Astarion to be sure his partner always reached their peak first. It was nearly ingrained in his DNA at this point, a pattern that he had no intention of breaking anytime soon.

But then you were leaning in to kiss him, something that shouldn't have caught him off guard, yet it did.

The press of your lips to his felt so soft, so sweet, nothing like the way he was savagely fucking into you. It was gentle, loving even. And before Astarion knew it he was coming, his end abrupt and explosive. It felt like fireworks bursting behind his eyes; he barely even had the wherewithal to move his hand to rub at your clit. But he managed, and soon enough you were crying out above him, your pussy clenching hard around his still leaking cock.

You were still kissing him in that same tender way, softly licking into his mouth as warmth overtook him. He felt... good. Too good even. Enough so where he barely knew what to do with himself.

You pulled away first, but you didn't go far. Thank the gods, Astarion wasn't... he didn't know if he could handle being apart from you at the moment. You rested your forehead against his, smiling down at him with a smitten look, one that made his heart clench.

"Did you like that?" You asked softly, wincing slightly as you pulled off of his cock, "Because I sure did."

I love you.

The thought came sudden and unbidden, screaming into the front of his mind without his consent. He didn't-he wasn't-why had that come into his head at all?

Astarion tried to stomp the wayward thought down as he gave you a strained smile.

"I loved it," He answered sincerely, the truth of his feelings far too close to the truth of his idiotic heart, "I-thank you darling. You really are amazing, aren't you?"

"Such a charmer," You sighed as you laid down next to him, reaching out to tangle your fingers together, "I really never stood a chance against you, did I?"

That was almost enough to make Astarion break out in hysterical laughter.

But instead he squeezed your hand, his eyes turned to the ceiling while a conflicted smile graced his face, "No. You never did."

He could only hope that continued to be true.

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #asks #four more to go!!!!!!!!!!#is this a sad ending?#I don't think so #unknown #nervous little guy #queued post

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depravitycentral · 8 months

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Yandere! Uvogin NSFW Profile

Yandere! Uvogin x fem! reader

Tw: mentions of non-con, masturbation, non-consensual aiding of masturbation (? not sure what to tag this but you'll see what I mean), excessive cum-play, snowballing, facials, stalking, kidnapping, mentions of degradation, exhibitionism, implied that Nobunaga jerked it to you I'm so sorry for your loss, kind of allusions to breeding but nothing explicit, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 10K

HABITS:

In general, Uvogin is no stranger to sex. He’s had his fair share of hookups over the years, and while he’s never really had a long term partner (being a criminal and always on the run makes it a bit difficult), he’s got a good, solid amount of experience under his belt.

And so, while he may be intimidating and a bit scary, there’s always plenty of drunk women at the local bars or clubs who are more than willing to take their chance at managing to take him.

And for the most part, Uvogin is completely satisfied with this – hookups and flings are fun, and he’s able to get his rocks off whenever he pleases.

However, once you step into his life, his frequent sex with strangers take an abrupt and very strict hiatus. Not only does it feel wrong to sleep with any woman besides you, he simply doesn’t find the allure anymore – if he were to sleep with anyone aside from you, he’d spend the entire time focused on all the things that are different from you rather than actually enjoying the experience.

Maybe their hair is different – yours is prettier, he thinks.

Maybe your voice is different – it’s not as annoying and shrill and whiny as the other woman’s, and Uvogin can very confidently say that he likes yours much, much more.

Maybe their body is different – your curves are different, better for him, and you’re softer and warmer and just better.

Hookups are out of the question once he really decides that he wants you – but unfortunately, the same can’t be said of his hormones. He still craves sexual contact and release, perhaps even more so now that he has you to actively imagine and think of and desire, but his tried and true method of finding someone random to relieve some pent up stress isn’t an option anymore.

And so, once his obsession develops, he finds himself masturbating much, much more often.

It’s not as nice as having a living, breathing person there to help him out, but it’s his only option – you’re not an option yet, as much as he desperately wishes you were, because while he’d give anything to sink into what he’s sure is your tight, warm, soaking wet cunt, he doesn’t want to reserve the progress he’s made in worming his way into your life all for one night of pleasure.

And so, he falls back on pleasuring himself with a bit of an aid – it’s not enough to simply fist himself and imagine your body or your sounds.

No, it’s not nearly enough – so instead, Uvogin finds a way to seamlessly involve you in his self-pleasure, all with the wonderful caveat of you having absolutely no idea of your role.

Uvogin’s already reaching for the hem of his shorts as he plops down onto the ratty couch in the living room of his current hideout. He’s quick to shimmey them down, all the way down to his ankles, only to unceremoniously kick them off to some corner of the room.

His cock is already semi-hard, the knowledge of what’s coming next unconsciously exciting him. He sighs and lets his head roll back slightly, resting on the frame of the couch, his hand sneaking down the plane of his abdomen and settling lightly over his cock.

Idly groping at his balls (just soft, teasing squeezes – nothing too serious yet, not when the action hasn’t begun), his free hand reaches to the next cushion and picks up the cheap burner phone Shalnark had provided him with last week. There’s only three numbers saved in it – Chrollo’s, Shalnark’s, and yours.

With a sharp swallow, Uvogin presses on your contact listing, listening as the familiar dial tone rings through the speakers. Your voice is surprised as you pick up, a delighted little oh, I wasn’t expecting a call from you!

It makes him bite his lip, squeezing at his balls just a bit harder.

Yeah, sorry, but I was bored and wanted to hear your voice. He smirks at the soft little sound of surprise you make at that.

Oh! Oh, sure, yeah! Okay, well, uh, how has your day been?

And although you’ve said absolutely nothing even remotely suggestive, Uvogin’s cock twitches against his forearm, making his thighs tense slightly.

Good, drank some beer and watched the hockey game, the usual. I want to hear about you, though. Tell me everything about this week, yeah?

And with that, he settles back further against the couch, truly getting comfortable as you start telling him about how this week you’ve done this and that, then this, then that…

He’s not really listening, and some part of him – the part not currently imagining the way you’d look with his cock down your throat – feels guilty about not giving you one hundred percent of his attention, but as you suddenly gasp and say oh then this happened he finds himself not caring.

Soon he’s transitioning from groping his balls to wrapping his fingers around his length, careful not to hiss into the phone receiver as he slowly, almost painfully slowly brings his fist up to his tip, squeezing a bit, then bringing it back down.

Your voice is a constant through the phone, the familiar lilt and pace of your words only slightly distorted through the device, and as he slowly works himself, he closes his eyes to listen more carefully. He likes the way you pronounce things – occasionally you say his name, and his hips jerk up a bit to fuck up into his fist each time you do, making him hold in a grunt each time.

Slowly he picks up the pace, moving his wrist a bit faster with every sentence you say, letting his eyes flutter closed again while his head lolls back slightly, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

He can practically imagine you here with him – the way you’d be straddling him on this couch, your soft thighs pressing against his hips, your pussy rubbing and grinding against him because you want to tease him, your hands splayed across his chest as you tell him that you want him, that you need him, that you need him to touch you and taste you and feel you and fuck you –

Uvogin? Uvogin? Are you okay? You sound like you’ve just run a marathon…

Your voice brings him back to reality, and immediately his eyes are snapping open and his hand freezes, his heavy breaths ringing through the receiver. After a beat, he swallows and reassures that he’s fine! Sorry sorry, that stupid neighbor of mine just stood outside my front door – you know how loud he breaths. Don’t worry about it, keep going. I like listening.

You seem a bit hesitant, but you keep going, and Uvogin makes sure to mute himself this time. Now he can listen to you talk and not worry about being too loud. Immediately he’s picking up where he left off, hips coming up to help fuck up into his fist, grunts and groans of your name slipping past his lips all the while you chatter on about last Wednesday.

Uvogin’s feet plant flat against the floor as he uses them for leverage to thrust up, pretending you’re perched in his lap with his cock buried between your legs, your pretty tits squished up against his chest while you gasp and moan and cry out his name, his thrusts only getting deeper and harder and stronger, the desire to truly fuck you and mold your cunt to the shape of his cock getting the better of him.

Soon he’s fully groaning out phrases into the phone, going on about how you’re so damn tight, fuck baby just like that, shit clench just like that, oh fuuuck! His hips are making an audible sound as they smack back into the couch cushions with every thrust, and with wild eyes he stares down at his lap, imagining the sight of his cock sinking into your cunt over and over, your slick spilling down your thighs and getting everything wet and sticky, the sound of his balls clapping against your ass over and over.

He's close, feeling the trace edges of his orgasm approaching, his toes beginning to curl and his abs starting to tighten and his balls starting to clench and oh –

I missed you that day, Uvogin, I wish you’d been there.

He comes with a near shout of your name, his hips pistoling into his fist as ropes of cum spurt onto his chest, his breathing heavy and uneven as he shakes, his hand trembling slightly as it grips onto the phone so tightly it nearly breaks.

You’re still speaking, but Uvogin’s not listening as he replays your words over and over in his head – you wanted him there, wanted to see him, wanted to be with him. He’s still saying your name over and over, his breathing slowly calming down as his cum slowly dribbles down his chest, and he lets a smile sit on his lips. Running a hand through his hair (still slightly stained with cum, but the euphoria swimming through his veins makes it hard to care), he swallows, saying your name one last time with a small chuckle.

Fuck, only you can make me like this, huh? You’re making me into a real loser, you know that? Fucking himself and pretending you’re here with me. God.

Soon, once he’s gotten enough of a grip on his breathing, he unmutes himself, just in time for you to finish up your report.

That’s about it, sorry for rambling! But anyways, what are you up to?

He smiles at that, giving his cock one final squeeze and licking a bit of cum off his finger.

Just wondering if you wanna get dinner tonight, how about that Italian place you were talking about the other day?

And when you agree, eventually hanging up, Uvogin can only sigh and slap his thigh.

Soon, very soon, he’s sure he won’t have to imagine anymore – soon it’ll be your hand instead of his.

Just the thought makes him groan, blood already rushing south again.

FAVORITE BODY PARTS:

Your Ass

Uvogin likes every part of you, but he’d be lying if he said he doesn’t have a special spot for your ass.

It doesn’t matter the shape or size – it’s yours, and by extension, Uvogin wants to touch It and squeeze it and grope it.

Constantly.

He’s generally a touchy person, both in and out of sexual contexts, and while his handsiness is often innocent regarding you, his hand finds its way to your backside much too often to be considered truly accidental.

He’s a bit fan of idly groping you, letting a hand wander down and give a playful squeeze, only to feel you jump a bit out of surprise.

(He’ll always send you this toothy grin afterwards, telling you that he can’t help it baby, it’s just right there and it’s so damn cute and fuck, if you could see it you’d understand.)

He likes to come up behind you and hug you, pressing himself directly against your backside – your heights likely mean that his cock doesn’t directly sit against your ass, but even feeling his legs against the soft area makes him lick his lips, already imagining the way the soft skin would feel under the rough pads of his fingers.

He likes to smack your ass when you walk by him – it’s always, always light, of course, just enough to startle you but not enough to actually hurt.

He likes the way you get irritated and swat at him, telling you with a cheeky wink and grin that you can always return the favor, babe.

And when you’re actually intimate with one another, this habit of his certainly doesn’t change – he’s always slapping your ass when he’s fucking you in doggy style, going on about how you look so pretty from this angle, all the while groping and squeezing at your poor cheeks until they’re nearly purple.

He’s always cupping your ass when you’re riding him, helping move you up and down with a palm on each cheek, squeezing and holding you so tightly you nearly have no control over your own movements.

He’ll fuck you in a prone bone position, all the while staring at how your ass jiggles with each smack of his hips against it, his fingers (that he’d intertwined with yours above your head) clutching onto yours even harder at the sight.

He’s just genuinely in love with the way your ass looks and feels, and although he wouldn’t bring it up unless you wanted to, Uvogin would love to have you sit on his face, letting your pretty ass be the only thing he sees as you grind and scoop and use him, letting his tongue brush across your clit over and over again all while he gets to admire.

(He wouldn’t even mind if you wanted to scoot forward a bit, letting your pussy rub against his chin while his tongue works diligently at the tight, taboo little hole you don’t normally let him touch. He’s sure it'll feel good, that you’ll enjoy it, that he’ll enjoy it, because it’s just another way to be close to you, another way to claim something of yours as his his his.)

Expect your ass to fondled and groped and smacked at least twice a day, if not more – he just can’t control himself, and surely you understand?

If you were as deeply obsessed and attracted to yourself as he is, you’d have to understand that he physically can’t help himself – not when you’re so goddamn tempting.

His mouth

Because Uvogin is such a pleaser in bed, he’s very quickly exploring the variety of ways he can utilize to get you off.

Of course, he likes the tried and true fucking, making you melt on his cock, but something about it feels a bit barbarian, a little bit too rough sometimes, even if he’s addicted to the feeling of your pussy.

Even his fingers are sometimes a little too much, just because you always tense up so much, your walls clamping down on him and making it difficult to move, the stretch from them alone feeling like the size of any of your previous partners.

Of course, he still likes fucking you and fingering you, but there’s something about using his mouth on you that he simply can’t get enough of.

Maybe it’s because it’s so much more intimate, like something special the two of you are sharing. He’s tasting the most private part of you, a place only a handful of people have ever gotten to see (much less taste), and something about that knowledge makes him swell with pride, a smirk settling across his lips.

Regardless, Uvogin takes every opportunity to use his mouth on you that he possibly can – the two of you are sitting on the couch while you read one of the few books he picked up for you and he watches TV, and suddenly he’s between your legs and pulling down your lounging shorts, looking up at you and licking his lips with a positively feral expression, murmuring that he’s feeling a little hungry, yeah?

Every sexual encounter between the two of almost always including Uvogin’s lips against your cunt in some capacity – he’s a very firm believer in the necessity of foreplay (particularly due to his size), and he spares no expense in making sure that you’re properly wet for him, that you’ve come at least once his tongue, that you’re as prepared and ready as possible in order to take him with minimal pain.

And Uvogin is good with his mouth, too – he’s got amazing stamina, and is able to stick with a consistent speed and tempo.

His fallback is to lick small, tight circles with medium pressure, but he’s always stealing glances up at you to check your facial expressions, adjusting anything and everything he think she needs to in order to get your eyes rolling to the back of his head.

He’ll start with light kisses spanning along your inner thighs and all around your core, pressing butterfly licks against your folds that are barely there and leave you wanting more more more.

He’ll press kisses against your clit, coming down to kitten lick and stare at you the whole time, a smirk sitting on his lips each time you bite your lip or keen.

He'll slowly add more pressure, building up the pace a bit too, until he’s licking shapes against your bud and occasionally sucking it into his mouth lightly, feeling the way your thighs tense up a bit around his head, loving the way your eyes flutter closed and you grasp onto the pillow underneath you.

He’ll occasionally dip down to lick long stripes along your folds, dipping his tongue in to tease your entrance, making lewd, obnoxious slurping noises just to hear you get embarrassed.

He loves it, and as soon as he gets to a pace he thinks you’re liking, he’ll stay down there for as long as it takes to get you coming, whether that be five minutes or an hour – it’s worth it, because when you get all doe eyed and shake and writhe and cream on his face, you look so fucking pretty, so perfect he can’t help but grind against the bed, anything to relieve some of the ache.

DRIVE:

In general, his sex drive is high. It’s always been that way, really, even before you stepped into his life – the thrill of combat and sex are two of his guiltiest pleasures, and he’s absolutely no stranger to hook ups.

He’s not unbearably horny, but he toes the line quite well, needing to get off at least two times a week in order to stay functional and sane.

So really, once his obsession with you forms, sexual thoughts revolving around you are very, very quick to follow.

Frankly, when he first realizes that he’s drawn to you, that there’s just something about you that he can’t seem to leave alone, he genuinely believes it’s simply a sexual attraction to you that’s messing with him. He rationalizes these infant stages of his infatuation with you as simply wanting to fuck you, rather than wanting to have you.

And Uvogin is a man of opportunity – he can’t not imagine stripping you bare and cupping at your tits, smacking your ass, perching you on his lap and bouncing you up and down like you’re just some glorified sex toy.

The images come quickly and startingly easily – too easily, really, because imagining all the different ways he wants to get you screaming his name and gushing for him really should’ve clued him in to the fact that his feelings for you go way beyond physical.

And eventually, once he decides that you’re more than just a hot piece of ass, he can’t just forget about the multitudes of nights he’s fantasized about spending hours with his face between your legs, or the number of times he’s soaked his fist with cum from merely thinking about how you’d look with your pretty face pressed into the mattress, his form caging you into a prone bone position while he absolutely destroys your tight little pussy.

He can’t – won’t – forget, and so as his obsession becomes richer, deeper, more hopeless, Uvogin’s sexual fantasies revolving around you become harder and harder to control and fight. Because really, how can he not imagine even more once he’s realized he’s in love with you?

Sure, he still wants to shove his cock down your throat and hear you choke and struggle with his girth, but now he also wants to trace his tip along the shape of your lips, to see your pretty eyes sparkling up at him with a few tears dotting the lashes, to feel you moan around him at his taste.

Sure, he still wants to bend you over and feel that perfect, tight little pussy of yours, but now he also wants to thrust softly and sweetly, to get deeper and brush against the spot he knows you like, to make you cry out his name rather than just scream and gasp.

The sexual fantasies are still explicit, but they’re more loving, more like making love rather than just animalistic fucking – and of course, once these thoughts develop in their entirety, Uvogin has to exercise an extreme amount of self-control to not act them out.

He’s painfully aware of the fact that you likely aren’t clamoring to sleep with him, partially because you’re infuriated at him for kidnapping you, and terrified of him because of his physical stature and criminal status.

He’s sure you don’t particularly want to be with him in a sexual way (though he hopes, desperately, that one day you will), and the last thing he wants is for you to be even more afraid of him, or to hate him even more.

And so, Uvogin won’t force himself onto you.

He won’t force you onto your knees or strip your clothing off of you or anything of the sort. He wants to, of course, so badly that it nearly drives him insane, but he won’t do it out of respect for you and a selfish desire to get you falling in love with him.

What he will do, however, is make it perfectly, abundantly clear that if you’re ever in the mood, he’s more than willing to oblige.

He’ll tell you, pretty much from the beginning of your captivity with him, that if you ever desire absolutely anything physical at all, he’ll be naked and eagerly waiting for you within seconds.

And that includes everything: simply using those massive palms of his to grope and squeeze at your breasts, calloused fingers gently rolling a nipple between them and listening to the way you sigh out.

(He’ll approach you with this particular offer when he knows your menstrual cycle is nearing, when you’re bloated and soar and desperate for any kind of reprieve – you need someone to hold those for ya, babe? They’re looking awfully heavy, and you’d be surprised how gentle these fingers can be.)

He’ll offer to finger you when you seem stressed, that grin of his wolfish and eager but also strangely genuine, as if the prospect of pleasuring you isn’t just some sexual urge and rather something he wants to do, as if it pleasures him, too.

(This offer is always accompanied with a rather showy wiggle of his fingers, making sure the veins and tendons in his hand are visibly flexing, just to try and entice you even more – and it works, because although you shake your head and tell him that you strongly pass, he can see the way your eyes are glued to his fingers, how your thighs press together ever so slightly, how you can’t hide the desire swimming in your eyes.)

He’ll offer to let you sit on his cock when you’re feeling lonely, telling you that he’ll be there the whole time, how you can’t possibly feel lonely when there’s literally someone inside of you, patting his groin – with pants barely holding back his straining erection – and telling you that he won’t try anything funny he promises.

(And he’ll stay true to that promise – it’s actual torture to not fuck up into you, to not bounce you up and down in his lap and feel the way your walls desperately clench down on him, but he holds himself back. Besides, feeling you slowly, slowly work your way down his length is a treat enough, each inch stretching you further than you though possible, your little hisses and whines and whimpers making him physically throb inside of you.)

He’ll even offer to fuck you when the mood feels right, telling you that he’s never left a partner unsatisfied, that he knows how to treat you, that he’ll be slow and gentle and soft and sweet, something that he means with every fiber of his being.

(At least, he’ll be all those things the first time he gets you naked in his arms – after that, anything goes. He can’t always be expected to control himself, after all.)

It’s mildly intrusive and will make you uncomfortable in the beginning, but as time passes and he doesn’t actually force anything onto you, merely offering, slowly your walls will start crumbling.

If you’re stuck with him, maybe it isn’t the end of the world if you get something out of the ordeal – you’re trapped with him, but does that mean you aren’t allowed an orgasm?

Sure he’s kidnapped you and keeps you locked away in a modestly furnished home, but is it really so wrong of you to accept the pleasure he seems more than happy to give you? Does that make you a bad person, or a selfish person?

With time you’ll start thinking no, that perhaps letting Uvogin eat you out for hours and bring you high after high wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world – and he’ll be very, very happy to oblige.

(And you can tell, too – the way he groans and growls against you makes it hard to ignore, as does the way something warm and wet and thick splatters against your thighs when he’s got you hovering over his chin.)

MAIN THREE KINKS:

Size Kink

Uvogin is more than aware of the size difference between the two of you.

It doesn’t matter how tall you are, or how large you are – he is bigger than you, both in stature and presence and every other measurable way. He’s a hulking figure that takes up the entire side of the dining table you share meals at, needing to wear shirts that literally fall off your frame, dominating and bigger than you in every sense of the word.

And he knows this - he’s completely aware of how you’re so small compared to him, so tiny and adorable and breakable, and when it comes to really anything between the two of you, he has a tendency to take this fact to heart, to be beyond careful in making sure that he does absolutely nothing that could ever put you in harm’s way.

Though he won’t admit it, having you hurt or afraid of him in any way is genuinely one of his worst fears, and although he knows he can do nothing to change his physical appearance, he takes care to come across as least threatening and as welcoming as possible.

And when it comes to the bedroom, Uvo is even more hyper aware, because when he’s buried inside that tight, cute little cunt of yours, his orgasm rapidly approaching, it’s almost disturbingly easy to lose control, to just pin you down and fuck the absolute shit out of you, until you’re nothing more than a quivering, split open mess below him.

He has to keep an incredible amount of focus when his orgasm looms near to make sure that he doesn’t dig his fingers into your skin too hard lest he leave bruises, or that he doesn’t fuck into you at the pace he truly wants to lest he push a little too far and tear something.

He doesn’t want to hurt you, so he tries his absolute best to keep you on top, to keep you controlling the pace and everything else in order to keep you safe and feeling good.

(Besides, he’s got a great view when you’re on top – he can see, all in the same glance, your pussy sucking in his length over and over, your breasts bouncing and jiggling, even your face all twisted up in ecstasy as you ride him as hard as you can. He’s not particularly hands-off during sex, but often he’s tempted to simply lay back with his arms crossed behind his head, content to watch your show and let your cunt bring him steadily closer to orgasm. His desire to see you gasp and stare wildly at him in shock and pleasure often outweighs this urge, however, because he almost always settles his hands on your hips and helps guide you, suddenly thrusting just a hair deeper into you and hearing your cry of a-ah Uvo too deep!)

However, that isn’t to say that Uvogin doesn’t enjoy the size difference between the two of you – on the contrary, he thinks it’s beyond cute, that it’s adorable just how tiny you are in comparison to him.

And while the fear that he could hurt you is very much omnipresent, he can’t deny how it makes his heart race and blood pump to his cock when he sees how just one of his hands engulfs your entire thigh, how you struggle to straddle him because his waist is just so muscular and wide, how your breast is completely engulfed by his palm when he roughly fondles and kneads at it.

It’s endearing in a way, how cute and small you are beside him, and even more obvious when you have your hands wrapped around his cock, your fingers not able to close completely around his girth.

Seeing you struggle so much to simply jerk him off makes Uvo smug, a smirk falling across his face while he groans, little murmurs of your name tumbling past his lips while you work at him, trying desperately to get him to come, to get him to tell you how you’re a good girl, fuck look at your hands, ngh wanna – gonna stretch out that tiny little cunt with this fat cock, you want that?

It’s most definitely a guilty pleasure, something that makes him feel big and strong and important, and in the context of your sexual relationship, there’s just simply no way to get around the fact that Uvogin quite literally towers over you.

(Especially when you’re on your knees, staring up at his imposing stature and the large, swollen, veiny cock sitting at eye level, his voice teasing as he tells you to go on, it won’t bite, I promise. Only I do that.)

Praise

Generally Uvogin isn’t particularly derogatory in bed. He’s not a big fan of degradation in general, both in and out of the bedroom, partially because he’s not a naturally mean person (aside from the criminal activity and murder, of course), and partly because he really does cherish and love you. He thinks you’re beautiful and perfect and everything he could want in a woman, and his honesty bars him from ever saying anything to the contrary.

He doesn’t want to tell you that you’re just a slut, that you’re a hole for him to fuck, that you should stay quiet and let him get what he wants – he wants you, in more ways than one. He loves you, in his own twisted, fucked up way, and he wants your time in bed together to reflect that sentiment.

And so, Uvogin falls on the opposite side of the spectrum from degradation – that is, there’s a nearly overwhelming amount of praise in the bedroom.

Comments about how pretty you are or how good at something you are constantly slip past his lips, his voice gruff and low as he tells that you look so damn pretty on your knees baby.

He’s got a compliment or praise ready for every possible situation in bed – you’re undressing, struggling to get the giant shirt Uvogin had forced you into this morning up over your head? He’s chuckling, grinning, slapping your ass and telling you that you’re so damn cute, princess, makes me go crazy when you wear my shit.

You’re kissing him, pinned below him with your wrists over your head? He’s licking his lips as he pulls back, planting kisses against your neck and telling you that you taste so good, you’re so fucking pretty.

You’re biting your lip and carding your fingers through your hair as he sucks and playfully bites at your nipples? He’s burying his face between your breasts and vigorously shaking it, laughing and telling you that these tits are so perfect babe, god I always wanna touch ‘em and kiss ‘em, how about no more bras around the house? Or maybe no more shirts at all – don’t expect me to control myself, yeah?

You’re sinking to your knees while he sighs and grabs the base of his cock, running his tip over your lips while he stares down at you? He’s telling you that you look so pretty babe, can’t wait to see these lips with my cum on them instead.

You’re perched on his lap, his tip barely nestled inside you while you wince and bite your lip? He’s running soothing hands up your sides, cooing at you that you’re doing so good baby, ‘m so proud of you, fuck you’re tight, feels so damn good.

You’re on your hands and knees, chest and face pressed in the mattress while he mounts you from behind, hips flush with yours and pummeling into you with no mercy? He’s leaning all the way over you and growling into your ear that you’re mine, babe, fuck don’t you ever forget, god this pussy is so good, y’so damn tight and wet, gonna make me come baby, you want that? Yeah? You want my cum?

You’re underneath him, tits bouncing every which way and body physically thrusting back and forth as he fucks into you with a sturdy hand pressing right over your naval? He’s laughing breathlessly, using his free hand to push back his hair and telling you to take it baby, fuck yeah just like that, you look so damn hot like this.

Even when he’s in the middle of coming, thick spurts of white shooting from his swollen, red tip, he’s praising you – telling you that you take him so well, that you always take – fuck, take it all, look so damn pretty with my cum in you.

He just genuinely believes that you’re beautiful, and because he’s naturally quite talkative, this shows in the bedroom – he can’t not comment on how you look, how you feel, how smell, how you taste.

It would be wrong to not let you know how much he’s enjoying being with you, how badly he’s dreamed of fucking you, or how long he’s dreamed of touching you – so really, even if his constant praise embarrasses you, you’d best get used to it. He won’t stop, and if you were to return the favor?

Well, his ego isn’t particularly fragile, but he can’t deny how it affects him any time you moan out about how good he feels or how big he is or how you’re close – oh god, ‘m gonna come, oh god Uvo Uvo Uvo-!

He can’t deny the way his cock jumps, how it twitches and pulses and oozes out precum at just hearing your voice and words, hearing his name and feeling the way your body seizes up all because of him him him.

He’s a sucker for it, so expect sex with him to be loud and full of compliments – even if they’re a little vulgar sometimes (fuck babe, these tits – I wanna fuck ‘em, get them all messy and covered in my cum fuuuck-) or oddly specific (god you taste good, those panties of yours don’t even come close…).

He just can’t help himself, so get used to it – he won’t stop, even if you beg him to.

Cum play

He’s possessive, and it shows in the bedroom.

He’s always got a hand on your body, hickeys bruising your throat, collarbone or inner thighs, handprints decorating your ass, or even a light bite mark here and there along your thighs and stomach.

He likes the concept of claiming you and physically showing that you’re his, and while this presents itself in normal ways like previously mentioned, Uvogin’s favorite form of showcasing that you belong to him is by getting his cum absolutely everywhere on your body.

He produces an insane amount of it with every orgasm – it just keeps coming, spurt after spurt shooting from his swollen tip and landing on your body or the sheets underneath you, all the while he’s groaning and his hips are involuntarily thrusting, making everything even more messy.

His orgasms last easily twenty seconds, with a constant stream of white, and Uvogin loves nothing more than to absolutely paint you with it.

When your hands – so small and cute and soft compared to his calloused skin – are wrapped around him, pulling and tugging, the slick sound of spit and lube clicking in his ears, he’ll give a warning of here it comes, shit baby take it – and immediately your hands are covered in it, pools of cum dribbling down onto your fingers, slipping down your wrist and leaving everything sticky and wet and warm, Uvogin’s chest rising and falling with both the force of his orgasm and the sight of his cum against your skin.

(He’ll always grab your hands afterwards, slipping your fingers into his mouth one by one and licking away his cum, only to kiss you afterwards and push it all into your mouth, entertained by your surprised sound and the way you squirm against him.)

When you’re struggling to fit him into your mouth, only able to take the first few inches and leaving your hands to deal with the rest, he’ll dig his fingers into your hair and hold you there, biting his lip and telling you to swallow every last fucking drop, don’t wanna see any wasted babe before letting go, listening to the way you gag and eagerly swallow everything he’s giving you.

He’ll pull away with harsh breaths, watching the way you eagerly suck in air, your lips wet and glistening with spit and cum, your tongue still painted a white color.

(Sometimes, when he’s feeling particularly possessive, he’ll instead pull back right before letting go, telling you to stay sitting on your knees while he stands, fisting his cock at a near inhuman speed before pointing it right at your face, letting go and watching as ropes land across your cheeks, nose, lips and forehead, your entire face streaked with him in a way that makes his knees weak. Often, he’ll shake his cock a bit right at the end, eager to get every little bit out and onto you, groaning in satisfaction when the last, weakest little spurt lands right on your outstretched tongue. He’ll lean in closer and smear the cum across your skin even more, his voice sounding genuinely awed as he tells you that you’re so damn beautiful baby, fuck, get on the bed, I need to fuck you. Now.)

He loves to have you take his cock between your breasts, regardless of their size – he wants you suckle on his tip and rub your skin against him, feeling your pebbled nipples and the soft plush.

When he gets close, he’ll pull back and finish himself off, having you lay on your back while he straddles your waist, painting your breasts white and paying special attention to smear it across your nipples, pinching and twisting and pulling at them.

And even when he’s actually inside you, his penchant for being picky about where his cum goes doesn’t change – nine times out of ten he will come inside you, pushing his hips all the way the hilt so that he can finish as deeply as possible, the groan he lets out sending pleasure racing up your spine.

You can often literally feel it inside of you – something warm and wet filling you up, his cock spasming with every spurt, his balls clenching and tightening against your ass as he whispers your name under his breath.

(Most of the time, there’s simply too much to keep inside of you – it just never seems to end, and eventually there’s some dribbling out of you, smearing against your folds and dripping down the curve of your ass, sometimes even leaving a small pool against the bedsheets. Uvogin is equal parts proud and irritated when this happens, though – proud because god, you look perfect with his cum leaking out of you, but irritated because all of that really should be inside of you, not wasted and sitting on the bed. So, he'll scoop it up with his fingers, pushing it back inside you and fucking it up into you until he’s satisfied, the wet shmucking noise making him grin.)

Sometimes, though, he’ll pull out right at the last minute and instead come onto your cunt, letting the white settle against your inner thighs and coat your folds, leaving everything in a layer of opaque cream as he growls out your name.

He’ll often have you keep your legs spread even after he’s finished, moving closer to peer at his handiwork, getting so close and staring so hard that you inevitably get embarrassed, especially when he uses both thumbs to spread your folds and watch the cum dip down inside, even a few drops dribbling down inside you, the sight making him inexplicably satisfied.

Really, Uvogin just likes seeing you with his cum – whether it’s on you or inside you, he will find a way to incorporate it – it helps quell his possessiveness, and he can’t deny that the sight just looks so right, like something carnal and primal and natural.

(Unfortunately, though, he is a bit sensitive about you trying to clean it up – he often won’t let you shower after sex, telling you that it's better if you keep it on you or in you, and if you were to complain about it, he’ll just grab a pair of your panties and force them up your legs, the mess he’d left between them soaking into the fabric and making them damp every time you sit down or move. Again, don’t try to fight it – you won’t win, and Uvogin will often reach down between your legs just to ensure that you haven’t cleaned up – it’s a waste, he’d say, and he knows his girl isn’t wasteful.)

OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE:

Overstimulation

In general, Uvogin loves to please you.

He’s by no means submissive, but there’s something about bringing you pleasure and watching you fall apart for him that gets him harder than he’s ever been, all the blood rushing to his cock so quickly it nearly makes him dizzy.

He just loves the way you look on the brink of an orgasm, how you look at him with such wide eyes and need, how you clutch onto him and chant his name over and over. He likes how your hips twitch and jerk in his grasp, how he has to physically hold you still so that he can keep his tongue working over your clit or his fingers thrusting into you.

It’s addicting, honestly, in some ways even better than his own orgasms – and so, Uvogin finds himself making it a priority every time he gets you naked that you find your high, unwilling to stop until you come at least once.

And that’s really the key – at least, because any given sexual encounter with Uvogin generally results in you having at least three orgasms. He absolutely loves to overstimulate you – watching you come is one of his favorite sights, those dark eyes of his always hyperfixated on your pretty face as you fall apart, and the face you make when he doesn’t stop?

When he keeps his fingers on that cute clit of yours, still rubbing and pressing and making you feel good even as you gasp and whine about how it’s too much?

Well, it makes Uvogin grin, pearly teeth on display as he tells you to take it baby, be a good girl for me, yeah?

He likes the way you squirm and beg for him, your legs shaking like crazy and your abdomen visibly clenching and unclenching.

He likes the way you get so sensitive and grasp onto him like he’s your lifeline, pushing him to get you off twice, three times, four times, sometimes even five in a single session.

Of course, he likes seeing you pleasured, but there’s a bit of selfishness at play too – because when you’re holding him so tightly and moaning out in that perfect voice of yours please – please Uvogin (he’s not sure whether you’re begging for him to stop or for more – and he suspects you’re not sure either), how can he not feel utterly self-satisfied?

How can he not feel like a good lover, not feel like your dependence on him is growing more and more with each orgasm?

He views it as a good way to simultaneously get you a trembling mess for him and to also solidify your growing feelings for him - plus, he gets to lick his fingers clean of your wonderful taste while also getting to sink himself inside your soaking wet, twitching, hypersensitive cunt already practically milking him for everything he’s got…

It doesn’t take him long to come after that, and the sight of you exhausted, twitching, and leaking thick, white globs of cum is positively droolworthy.

Femdom

But in a very specific way – you’ll never be truly in charge in bed with him, if only because there’s not a single submissive bone in Uvogin’s body.

Sex with him is under his terms and conditions, but he’s generous enough to care about your pleasure and your desires, too.

That said, Uvo is incredibly entertained by your attempts at dominating him – it’s not necessarily hot or attractive, but it’s incredibly endearing and sweet, and serves to make his heart melt and his cock swell with the knowledge that eventually he will be shattering this fragile illusion of control you’re creating.

He likes when you get on top of him, your poor hips struggle to straggle the expanse of his own, his cock pressing harshly and insistently against your ass while you bite your lip and steel yourself.

He likes the way you try to move his arms over his head forcefully (you aren’t actually moving them, even if you think you are – he’s letting you, manually moving them for you, letting you believe that you’re doing it when it reality it’s all him), seeing the way your eyes light up and your thighs squeeze around his hips tighter.

He likes the way you lean down to kiss him, your tongue rushing into his mouth, your kisses noticeably more aggressive than usual but still nothing particularly dominant.

And yet, Uvogin lets you take the lead, letting you control the pacing, the angle, everything just to maintain this illusion of dominance.

He’ll let you tie the blindfold around his head, limiting his vision but not hindering any of his other senses, conveniently forgetting to mention to you that he can still feel your every breath, hear your every movement, practically taste what you’re going to do next.

He’ll let you slowly sink down onto his length, pulling back every few moments to tease his length and leave him wanting more.

Uvogin will take it all in stride, entertained at the way you try to be dominant and in control, only to shatter it once he decides you’ve had your fun, once you pull off of him one too many times and leave his cock wet, throbbing and needing your pussy so badly it hurts –

It’s not hard to rip his wrists out of the dingey bindings you’d placed them in earlier, fingers immediately digging into the plush of your hips to force you back down onto him, setting a brutal pace combined with his own thrusting hips and moving your body up and down so that every brush of his cock into you leaves you gasping, panting for air because it’s all so unexpected and he’s just so deep and big and god…

You can try being dominant all you want, because he finds it entertaining and endearing, but know that at the end of the day you will be the one at his mercy, your body simply his to toy with and tease as he sees fit.

BIGGEST FANTASY:

It's no secret that Uvogin is possessive – you’ll learn this from the very moment you become aware of his feelings for you. He firmly, whole-heartedly views you as his, just as he is yours.

And in the context of your sexual relationship, this mindset of his is only more apparent, more blatantly obvious with the way he clutches onto you and tells you how much he loves his little pussy between your legs, the way he leaves bruises on your hips and ass from smacking you or holding on just a bit too tight while he’s fucking you, or even sinking his teeth lightly into the flesh of your shoulder so that you’re marked as his.

It satisfies the intense desire he feels to keep you by his side and away from everyone else, all with the added benefit of getting you writhing and moaning his name.

And so, most of Uvo’s fantasies in the bedroom tend to branch off from his possessiveness – specifically, while it would be unlikely to happen, he desperately, desperately, wants to fuck you in a semi-public space so that his fellow Troupe members can hear.

He wants them to hear you screaming his name, your pleas and cries sounding like music to his ears and showing them exactly who gets to touch you, who makes you feel good, who’s allowed to dump fresh, potent cum in your cute little hole.

It makes him giddy, genuinely, excitement brewing in his chest because he loves the idea of publicly claiming you, about making sure that everyone knows that you’re his, that every part of you belongs to him.

He likes everyone knowing that only he gets to touch you and make you moan and scream, that it’s only ever his name that’ll be leaving those pretty lips of yours.

Plus, this fantasy fulfills that possessive urge without actually letting other people see you – he can’t stomach the thought of any of his fellow Troupe members actually seeing your naked body or the way you look at the height of your pleasure – Shizuku can’t ogle like she does, Shalnark can’t fist his cock to the sight of your tits bouncing, and even Franklin can’t swallow and ghost a hand over his crotch at the sight of your body taking his too-big cock.

It’s perfect, a fantasy that he’s harbored since the early days of his infatuation with you – and while it’ll take a while for him to actually act out, he wants nothing more than to utterly claim you all while his friends can hear.

“You gonna scream for me baby?” Uvogin grunts, his hips snapping into yours just a bit harder.

Everything feels like too much – he’s holding you up against the wall, the cold brick digging into your back just mixing with the onslaught of pleasure his cock is giving you, bullying its way inside you and leaving you clenching down on him with every thrust. He’s so big – stretching you out nearly past your limits, making you drool and moan and shake, thoroughly destroying you long before he’s even bothering to reach for your clit.

You’re a mess already, and Uvogin knows it. It makes him smirk, staving off his own orgasm in favor of making sure he fucks you just right, just to make sure the rest of the Troupe can hear you on the other side of the wall.

“I can’t hear you.” He growls, burying his face in your neck and biting his lip to hold his release at bay. It’s hard to – you’re so damn tight and warm around him, and each time he pushes just the tiniest bit deeper inside you, you squeeze up like a vice, massaging and pulsing around him so well that it makes his knees weak.

“Fuck, Uvo Uvo Uvo Uvo -!” You’re chanting his name, the words slurred together and sounding strained, and it only makes him thrust into you harder, enough force landing on each push of his hips that it physically gets you bouncing, even mid-air.

He can hear faint, muffled talking from the other side of the wall, and it only makes him bare his teeth, lightly biting the shell of your ear. His fingers dig into your thighs, his grip on them firm and tight.

“Shit baby, tell them who’s fucking you like this,” He starts, only to cut himself off with a groan when you clench down on him particularly hard. His hips stutter for just a moment, and you claw at his back at the sensation.

“It – it’s you, Uvogin!” Your voice is strained and slurred, and it makes Uvogin grin.

“Who’s cock is this perfect little pussy taking? Who’s it belong to, huh?” His voice is gravely and deep, husky and making your toes curl as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Uvogin Uvogin Uvogin!” You’re practically screaming at this point, and he hears a dull thud from the next room over.

He barks out a laugh and buries his face into your neck, forcing his hips to go faster, harder, deeper, anything to get you louder.

And it’s working – you’re physically trembling, hips twitching and jerking wildly in his grasp, a non-sensical slurry of words spilling from your lips that make his heart and cock ache, each sound you make sending him closer and closer to his end.

“Tell me what you want baby, fuck fuck fuck, tell me where you want it.”

“Inside! Please Uvo, inside, need it inside me –“ You’re blabbering, but he doesn’t mind. A finger comes down to roughly press circles against your sensitive clit, and your reaction is immediate – you tense up, every muscle in your body seizing up as the pleasure mounts and mounts, his hips never stilling and drilling into that spot inside you over and over and over again –

You come with a scream of his name, your cunt fluttering wildly around him, squeezing and pulsing and massaging him in a way that gets his knees scarily close to buckling, his own orgasm right on the brink as he presses you even tighter against the wall, leaving no space to breath as he literally fucks you into the brick.

“Don’t you dare stop,” He warns you, each word punctuated by a sharp thrust.

Another loud bang comes from the other side of the wall, and Uvogin freezes for just a moment as he hears the faintest sound of panting, of someone cursing under their breath, of something muttering out an oh fuck…

He comes with a loud groan of your name, spurts of warm, thick cum settling inside you and making you cry out again, the sound music to his ears. A muffled groan sounds from the other side of the wall, and pride swims in Uvo’s gut as he watches you try to recover, your body shaking and your lips all swollen from biting them. He kisses you, hard, his tongue slipping into your mouth immediately, before helping you stand on your own and paddle to the bathroom to clean up.

Once the shower starts running, Uvogin sighs and slips out the door, walking into the other room with a smirk spread across his lips. Feitan, Phinks and Nobunaga all look at him, the first with a disgusted look, the second with a noticeable blush, and the third with dazed eyes, clearly in the aftershocks of his own pleasure.

Uvogin laughs, settling a hand on his hip. “Like what you heard, huh?”

Nobuanga nods, Phinks’s blush only settles deeper, and Feitan snorts.

Uvogin’s smile drops at that, his nen flaring up. “Too bad you’ll never even touch her.”

His cock twitches at the mere thought, and soon he’s sliding open the glass door of the bathroom, pressing your chest against the tile wall, determined to see if his friends can still hear you over the sound of the rushing water.

#yandere hxh #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere uvogin #hxh smut #_hxh #_uvogin #_lee's profiles

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rizsu · 5 months

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professional guide on how to boyfriend jujutsu kaisen ( men ).

⤹ list ﹢ gojō satoru, sukuna ryōmen, chōsō.

﹙ syn ﹚ having near-to-zero experience with serious romantic relationships, it's time to teach them how to romance. the journey won't be easy, but the results will hopefully be fruitful.

extra. songs: betcha (bbh), seven (jk), very nice (svt).

week one : how to flirt as if you were shakespeare. note. refrain from using big words because they sound ‘cool’.

GOJO SATORU — "you're hating on my vocabulary?"

slowly, but very surely, you can feel your stress-meter rise to its peak. if someone were to animate your current expression, there will be three veins protruding out on your forehead to show your stress. it's almost as if it's second-nature for satoru to be annoying. he isn't doing it on purpose, unfortunately, it's just the way he is.

i should've ignored his call, a voice in your head speaks, i really should've. you were enjoying your own presence, simply lazing around during your off-day when three rings disrupted the peace. groaning, you reluctantly picked it up.

"hello—"

"come to enha's bakery, PLEASE," satoru's rushed voice spoke, immediately ending the call after his request-demand.

annoyance dawned and slowly transitioned into confusion. first, he needs to fix his habit of cutting you off. second, with the tone of his voice, maybe you should go.

big mistake.

not only was he chewing your ears off with talking, he also ate half of your pastry. you weren't able to get a full sentence in, he just kept going. dressed in suit and tie, hair styled and gelled up, satoru looked handsomely professional. according to what you've gathered from his rambling, he's been set up with one of the higher ups' daughter for business purposes. he needs to woo her or he's gonna lose a significant amount of pay. the problem? well, his flirting skills aren't all that. his confidence can help him, but it'll only help for a fraction of the date.

"what's the issue? you're handsome," you started, sliding your pastry back to you. "you should be able to woo her with your face alone."

"you are not wrong—"

"i'm never wrong," you cut him off.

"let me speak. anyway, i was informed that she isn't one for looks alone. i don't care about her, but she's the daughter of some high fucker," his voice reeked of defeat.

you weren't well-knowledged in satoru's field of work, but you knew he had it against the "higher ups." well, you had no choice but to know. satoru often thought of you as someone he can be free with — so, in conclusion, you were the victim of his word-vomit moments.

the two of you fell silent, thinking about solutions to save satoru. eyeing the pastry, you pondered your brain. there has to be a way to help satoru. perhaps some walkie-talkies? no, those are too loud. follow him into the restaurant and monitor his behaviour? no, that's too much work. crash his date and ask him why he's cheating on you? no, that'll probably end in your death.

satoru himself is deep in thought, already annoyed at the date that's going to become the bane of his existence in eight hours from now. should he bring you with him? maybe, but you'll deny his offer. should he ask you to pretend to be his girlfriend? no, he'd rather ask without the "pretend."

oh he's fucked.

i'm so fucked.

"wait," you leaned into the table, sporting an expression that says 'i have an idea'.

"yes?" satoru mirrors you, eyes speaking 'tell me'.

"what if i teach you how to flirt? we should have enough time to teach you how to boyfriend, right?" your idea was good. it turned the gears in both minds.

satoru opens his mouth but presses it into a thin line. there's an obstacle in the way of making this idea perfect.

"sounds good but.. the date's... tonight."

"you are fucked."

he nods at your response, feeling the salt rubbing in his wound. i guess i should just—

"but, if we go now we'll have enough time. it's 11AM, we can do it," you tapped your index finger twice on your phone's screen, showing satoru the time. if you move now, success is evident.

"let's go then," agreeing, he stands up, stuffing his car keys into his pocket and opening his wallet.

—

you've run out of pillows and whiteboard markers. the last two hours were spent either scribbling nonsense on a mini-whiteboard or throwing objects at satoru. the teaching isn't working. every lesson you've gone through ended in satoru's failure. is it on purpose? you hope it isn't.

"satoru, for the last time, that does not sound like a real word!" your hand slapped the table, physically showing your frustration.

groaning, satoru throws his head back, "you said use poetic words!"

"what part of scrumdiddlyumptious sounds poetic to you?!" you deadpanned at him.

he slouches further down the couch, grabbing his phone to search the word on google. it took him only one minute to find the word and its definition. raising up from slouching, he leans over the coffee table, stretching an arm out to show you the word.

"scrumdiddlyumptious — adjective · informal 1. (of food) extremely tasty; delicious. 2. (of a person) very attractive."

reluctant to admit defeat, you weaponized the word being informal against him, "it's not formal! you will not use it."

satoru's high of being right dies down immediately. his mouth twitches, eyes looking at you with disbelief.

"babe, you cannot be serious right now."

"babe, i am so serious right now," you mocked him, not thinking too deep into his nickname. there's no meaning behind it anyway. you, too, use babe as platonic name.

eventually, satoru tuned out your voice. he returned back to his previous slouching position, staring at you blankly as your words go in one ear and out the other.

it didn't take long for you to notice his dejected aura. does he hate it that much? you wondered, feeling a slight pity for him.

"don't worry, satoru. it's just one date."

"i will be worrying," satoru counters you, already sour at the date-to-come.

if he were to be honest, the date isn't the problem, nor is the flirting. he believes his flirting skills to be at a decent level. he also doesn't mind spending money on others. it's just that he doesn't want to entertain her. maybe, just maybe, if it were you, he'd be more excited.

you didn't say anything after him, only shooting him an annoying smile. seriously, you don't know what's worrying him. he's basically every girl's eye candy — not to mention, he looks so much like a boyfriend right now. that doesn't make a lot of sense, but if others can see what you're seeing, they'll understand. his white fitted tee accentuates his upper body's muscles, the black sweatpants do its job, his hair that's still styled, and the silver wristwatch on his hand. simple, yet sexy.

SUKUNA RYOMEN — "i'm too old for this shit."

sukuna, your sweet sukuna. your sukuna who's most likely weighing out which option is the better one to shut you up. he doesn't know why he agreed to listen to your rambles at midnight, but he's too far in to call it quitsies.

according to what you told him, you gained the idea of teaching him how to update his romance. it all came crashing to you when you were in the third-quarter of an episode of some random dating show. you blanked out most of the episode, not paying attention as the main objective of watching it was to not stare into nothing while eating.

the show itself didn't interest you, but the concept did. the participants were blindfolded, being told to use their judgement of character to choose their date. they'd have to rely on their personalities and voices to attract someone — a pretty neat idea. looks aren't everything. unfortunately, they might just be for sukuna if he doesn't work on his attitude.

often does sukuna act like he's a fifty-five-years-old office worker named penelope in the management department: old, easily annoyed, and always has something to complain about. you're probably the only human on earth who can handle sukuna for more than a day. of course, this is due to you being similar to him — if not then exactly like him. your attitudes fit together like jigsaw puzzle pieces.

sukuna's hands are clasped together behind his head, one leg raised on the bed, and torso out in the open for everyone to view. he's actively listening to you, giving his judgement here and there.

you're sitting with your legs criss-crossed, a pillow in the middle of your thighs, and hands speaking their own language. the habit of using your hands expressively when talking will never leave you.

"...so, if you were to find a girl, you neeed to be kind! no one likes a man with a stick up his ass," you warned sukuna, moving your index finger side-to-side.

"you do," sukuna says, raising an eyebrow at you.

unfortunately, he left you speechless — but not for long! you soon regained your speaking skills after realizing you don't have a good comeback.

coughing two times, you started your lesson again, "anyyyway, always tell her she's beautiful, gorgeous, breathless, or whatever. everyone loves a little compliment about their appearance!"

almost as if it's an automatic setting, sukuna replies, "what if she's facially challenged?"

"OH—" your jaw dropped. "sukuna, you can't just say that!"

he re-positions himself, this time laying on his side with his arm supporting his head.

"if someone's visually impaired i'm telling them."

you sighed, feeling disappointed at his brutual honesty, "what do you even mean by visually impaired?"

"they're ugly," he shrugs.

his tone isn't serious, implying that he's joking but you know he isn't. sukuna's a man of his word; the truth is what leaves his mouth every time. you shouldn't worry — you really, really shouldn't, but what if that's what he thinks about you? are you facially challenged in his eyes? you've gone silent, allowing yourself to drown in the thoughts.

sukuna notices your silence, sighs, and jabs your side with his foot.

"if you're thinking that i believe you're ugly, then stop," he begins, continuing the foot-jabbing-at-your-side-movement when you don't respond. "you're beautiful, believe me. you know i don't lie."

that catches your attention. you feel a sudden heat creeping up the back of your neck. keeping your voice low, you questioned him, still unsure of whether he's being truthful or not, "are you lying?"

"i swear," his voice is firm, reaching his free hand out to your thigh. physical contact to him is very important!

you return to the silence, only this time you lock your eyes in sukuna's. it's up to you to believe whether he's lying or not, and honestly, you don't care. you know he never lies, and you rather enjoy your fantasy instead of the harsh reality ( if he's truly lying ).

CHOSO — "man, fuck all that."

throughout your entire life you never expected to meet someone like choso. he is, in your words, a bitch boy. acts like a bitch, very expressive with his facial expressions, sarcastic, a male, and the worst of all, a little thief.

you humbly thought baking with choso would've been a good idea for celebrating the end of your finals. oh you were so wrong. he's messy, ate half the chocolate chips, and has been stealing spoons of cookie batter. when you confronted him, he simply said, "we can always make more," and shrugged. the audacity!

there's only so much choso someone can handle before they explode.

"you dumb fuck, how can you get a wife with this behaviour?!" you scolded, slapping his hand away from the freshly baked batch of cookies with a whisk.

he immediately retreats his hand, looking at you with an expression that says 'have you gone insane?'

"don't look at me like that," you warned, raising an eyebrow at his very well-hidden annoyance at you.

choso rolls his eyes, this time reaching the uninjured hand for the sprinkles. he sneakily slides the packet to him, intensely watching you to make sure you don't happen to see him committing such a crime. mouthing a little "yes!" at his victory, he empties half the sprinkles in his hand and throws it into his mouth.

"an’ wha’ if i ‘on't care about a wife," his words are muffled due to his mouth being filled with the sprinkles. he tries his best to hide the crunch sound, lowering his head each time he needs to crunch on some.

your back's still turned to him, simply too busy with monitoring sugar-soon-to-be-caramel on the stove.

"you're gonna have to care soon. you don't wanna die alone!" you nagged, making a point to him.

his right eyebrow raises at your words, lips ready to move at your hypocrisy, "you yourself said you don't want a partner!"

"at this point," you stopped, turning around to face choso. "i'm gonna have to teach you how to be a romantic young man."

"what are you implying...?"

"it's time for dating lessons."

"no, thank you."

unfortunately, choso has no say in this household. he had to listen. you sat him down on the chair, making sure he focuses with all his attention and doesn't steal any of the desserts. believe choso when he said he tried to take you seriously. he really did, but your messy apron along with vigorously hand-mixing batter with a serious expression as you talked his ear off caught him off-guard.

"sometimes you even have to get on your knees, choso! i'm telling you."

"i'm not doing all of that," he disagrees.

"oh, trust me. when you're in love you will," you spoke, resting the hand-mixer down to draw an invisible heart in the air.

he doesn't give you a verbal response. instead, he squints his eyes at you. when one's gone, another is born. when one stress is gone, another is born ( your nagging ). he doesn't like it one bit, but at least it's coming from you. he'd rather have you down his ears — whether it's by using your vocals or channeling your inner mother and scolding him.

#+ rizsu: jujutsu kaisen.#jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna fluff #choso x reader #choso fluff #choso x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x you #sukuna x you #jjk x fem!reader

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matrixbearer2024 · 3 months

Note

Can you do something with Vox and the reader and the reader listens to like sus or like nsfw songs (Think like Wheeler Walker Jr. (he’s a country music artist if you didn’t know, be warned)) and/or like morally questionable songs? Idk I’d think it’d just be funny with like the reader listening to a song and it’s just like really explicit😭🙏

Once Bitten, Twice Shy

Vox x CollegeStudent!Reader

A/N: I'm making a drabble out of this cuz I don't wanna go through the whole song for now- but this is way too funny of an idea to pass up. PLUS, I've got like the perfect song after the audio just popped up on my YouTube feed yesterday. Like, the song has two versions too- one explicit and one clean. Also, I am aware that the idiom in the title means being more cautious- but it kind of applies to Vox when he actually has to make a valiant effort to stop falling in love with you. He absolutely sucks at it but we're not gonna stop him LMAO.

youtube

Despite having prior knowledge to the songs you liked and listened to, Vox was still a bemused mess when guessing your music preferences. Sometimes he couldn't understand why you'd have a certain song in your playlist that just... didn't really fit. He'd even worry that something happened when a depressive song was randomly at the top of your 'most played' tunes for the day. Yet you were completely fine, actually just peachy- which confused him beyond belief.

All the more when he found you at the hotel teaching Angel some popular dance routines from when you were alive. The overlord didn't seem to mind what you were doing, hell- it was a little cute to watch. Even if he had a few qualms about your song choices, a lot of them bordering suggestive, it wasn't anything he hadn't heard before.

That was until the chorus of this specific tune started playing.

You wrap around me and you give me life~ And that's why night after night- I'll be fuckin' you right!

WHAT. THE. FUCK.

WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND WOULD WRITE SOMETHING LIKE THIS?!

It didn't help that you seemed completely unbothered by it?! Huh?!

Vox hadn't ever heard that song in your playlist before, if he had the lyrics and melody would be familiar- but no! So you had just decided to add this all of a sudden?! WHY??

He didn't realize his claws were digging into the bar top where he was leaning against until Lucifer pointed it out. Even then, he didn't react to the king of hell's teasing or jabs- merely crossing his arms as his brain tried to catch up with what was happening.

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday- a week! Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday- Seven days a week!

Were you trying to tell him something?? Wha- how did you even find a song like this?! Much less know enough about the dance of it to teach! He was starting to overheat as his fans whirred loudly. Though at this point, it was mostly embarrassed confusion with a dash of lust.

Husker and Lucifer were sort of having a laugh at Vox's expense where they were standing near him. It had been clear as day ever since that the technology overlord had a thing for you-

This just pretty much confirmed it.

Maybe he totally wished to direct the song at you, if his pink screen was any indication. The guy even had small bolts of blue electricity just running across him, you were seriously sending Vox into overdrive and you had no idea!

Every hour, every minute, every second, you know night after night~ I'll be fuckin' you right, seven days a week!

By the time you had finished dancing with Angel, you picked up on some boisterous laughter by the hotel's bar. Only to see Lucifer and Husker actually losing it because a certain flatscreen companion of yours was bluescreened and sparking where he stood.

What the hell?

You were so confused.

But that just seemed to make a certain king and bartender laugh all the more.

#hazbin hotel #vox x reader #vox #hazbin hotel vox #get off my screen series #hazbin vox #vox x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader

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savnofilter · 12 days

Text

Guilty | a. shouta

Plug!Shouta Aizawa x [FEM]Reader

WARNING(S): sexual content, mentions of weed, drug use (cannabis), high/inebriated sex, infidelity (don't do this y'all), it's consensual tho they both suck, Reader is a "older-sister deals with a lot mess" tease, fingering (m -> f), lube, making out, light petting, barely any foreplay besides that, p in v sex, protected sex, unestablished relationship.

COUNT: 2.5k words.

READ MORE: masterlist | adults masterlist

A/N: this is funny cuz ive never been high a day in my life. ive never gotten high or drunk... ive tried but. 🤷🏽‍♀️ 😭 if i get sum wrong with the terms, SORRY. my knowledge is only extensive to what i hear my friends be saying okay?! okay. sorry weed heads lol. this was originally gonna be car sex but it ended up... not being that so maybe next time. 👀

You

▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. 0:69

‘Just come upstairs plssss, I’ll slip you extra’

[✓] 23:56

Aizawa huffed at your whining. He knew better than to do it but tonight he wasn't being stern with himself. The last time you had come down to his car to get what you normally did, it went in a whole other direction that wasn’t intended.

You were a good person.

Meaning you were currently in a high level of schooling, soon to graduate and finally full send into your desired career. You were dressed somewhat modestly in your day to day life, avoided using unnecessary swear words and was always polite when needed. You were a model student, rounding up to be on the dean's list as the final exam period rounds the corner. You often helped out with your community and even volunteered in a soup kitchen.

Not to mention, you were the kid parents dreamed of. Being the first born you didn't really have that many choices. You were already in a serious relationship, the guy you were with had a lot more destined for him as well so it only made sense for you two to be together. You had met them through your parents, actually. Thankfully they weren't ugly nor was they that bad to be around. But did you really want to marry?

To everyone else, you were a “good person”. But your underlying secrets said otherwise.

Aizawa was starting to question it himself. The last time you two had crossed the line hadn't been the first. You see, your “good” reputation was only merely an act. You weren't the worst person on the planet, no, but there was a lapse in your judgement as you slowly felt like your life was a lie. The somewhat arranged relationship and the hand held future into what you should desire instead of what you actually wanted to do caught up to you eventually.

You had met Aizawa a little bit more than a few years ago through a friend of yours. At that time, you were single and his romantic situation wasn't any knowledge to you. Not that it was any of your business to begin with. That night you had bought from him was your first time smoking, ever. Your friends had convinced you to do it and you weren't entirely against the idea so you went along with it.

It was at some beach party that he could only care so much about and he was in a mode operating strictly for business despite knowing the party owners himself. Though when you had first come up to him, weary and looking the prettiest you've ever been. Shouta had seen so many people in his lifetime, but looking at you for the first time had him starstruck. It was almost embarrassing how he nearly zoned out when you two caught eye contact. The way your lips moved and how you hugged your body as a sign of needing direction in the whole process intrigued him. You stuck out like a sore thumb between you and your friends that accompanied you, even though you all clearly arrived together.

The moment he first saw you replayed in his head as he stood at your door, waiting for you to let him in. He knows he shouldn’t be doing this, interfering with your life but it wasn’t all his fault; it took two to tango.

“Leave your shoes at the door,” Your voice called out to him. His eyes refocused as you turned around, eyes taking more than enough time to take your appearance. A hoodie that fit your figure in a way he knew wasn't yours covered your torso while a small pair of shorts hugged your ass all too well and only a pair of socks to keep you comfortable in your warm but drafty apartment is all you wore. Focused, that's what he needed to be. That's what he should be reminding himself of. This should only be for business.

He absentmindedly does as you say though, the process of removing his shoes easier than usual since he adorned a comfortable pair of designer slides (gifted to him by someone close to him, of course). You instruct him to rest the grams on your living room's coffee table, already giving away how many times Shouta shouldn't have been in your apartment. Still, he wordlessly pads his way to the room, his feet covered in socks also thudding against the padded floor.

Shouta follows your instructions on placing the bag on your table and promptly attempts to leave before making any choices he'd regret later. Your plans were different as you stood in the doorway, not blocking the walkway at all, but for sure trapping him. You glance at him with a pout full of confusion and longing.

“Could you help me roll one? You know I struggle with it.”

His eyes were glued to your plump lips as you talked, mesmerized at your words. That was a damn lie and both you knew it. Though he couldn't hold back the gulp as he nodded his head in hesitation, glancing towards the door behind you, reluctant to the idea of a special someone waltzing in that door. As if reading his mind, you smile and walk towards him, shoulder briefly checking his even with the amount of room that should've been left between you two.

“My fíance is out of town, they usually help me.” You get yourself comfortably sat on your couch and beckon him over, and pat the free seat next to you for him to sit. You don't wait for him as you rest your rolling tray on the table. “Come sit,”

And so he does.

With his hands stuffed in his pockets and eyes glued to the product he brought to you. He walks around the table to not interrupt you and gingerly sits as requested. If anyone walked in on you, there would be no mistaking the tension in the air. Shouta’s body posture was more than stiff as he tried not to pursue you. He clears his throat once you've finally pulled your gram out, getting your shredder to help mince the plant.

“None of your friends are available?” Shouta asks, leaning back in to your sofa as you busy yourself with preparation. You shrug and glance at him with a grin.

“You're a friend, no?” You tease him as you beckon him to get closer and move the tray in front of him.

He rolls his eyes as he gets busy, glaring at the rolling paper as he lines up the sativa. “You know what I mean.”

But you have no answer for him. Instead he watches as you purse your lips and cross your arms, body language closing him out without you having to verbally say it. He feels a little smug though, finally being able to turn the tables on you in this situation instead of the opposite.

He sits back as he finally finishes up the roll and glances around for the lighter. Although at this time you refused to make eye contact, you read his actions pretty well and dig into your hoodie’s pocket for the pink lighter. You hold it out to him once your fish it out, palm open with invitation.

“Open.” Shouta says curtly, but you understand what he meant all too well. He holds up the blunt and you grin happily in content. You scoot closer to him, the two of your bodies now touching each other as you leaned closer to his hand. You look up at him as he gently places the blunt to your mouth, your hand quick to top off the process by lighting it up.

You take a deep drag from it and lightly pull away, holding in your breath before puffing it out in a soft breath. You hum happily as you lean back against your sofa, still sitting close to him as he takes his own turn in having a drag of his own. The exchange is continued in silence minus the bustling city noises and people outside to accompany it. As the air grew thicker in scent with weed, so did the tension between both of you.

As you sat back with your body language open and muscles relaxed, his large and heavy hand rested on the inside of your thigh, squeezing every few moments or so. The light movement had you giggling—mixed between the airy headed sensation filling your senses and the tips of his fingers itching for more had you eager to receive it. Sharing another puff you gently pass it to him and use both of your hands to guide his wandering one straight to your clothed core, the only thing stopping him from properly touching you is the thin material or your shorts. His hand palms your pussy through the material, his unabashed groping bringing a light moan from you. You open your legs further in an attempt to encourage him further, the gesture working.

Though, Aizawa pulls away, ignoring your whine in protest and snubs the end of the tiny end of the blunt onto the rolling tray. He finally sits back and pats his thigh for you to climb up on it, and you happily follow his lead. In a few seconds you're climbing over his lap comfortably, and sitting across it as your hands find his neck in solace. Your eyes are lidded and already heavy with arousal, needing nothing more than to take him.

He isn't in the mood to play coy either as his hands slip down to hold your ass and thigh respectively. He gives your skin a squeeze and you finally lean in to plant a messy kiss against his. It takes everything in Aizawa to hold back the groan that threatens to leave his lips, mouth moulding to yours as you both try to develop a rhythm that worked for both of you. You were a grinning mess trying to get into the motion, pride already swelling within you as you could feel him poking at the side of your body. Of course without hesitation you palmed him, needing not to shy away from him anymore.

You tease his lower lip by giving it a small bite as you pull away and look down to watch yourself palm at his building erection. Usually at this time you'd drop a remark but you were too thirsty to even do so. It'd only been a few days since you've gotten some and you were fiending for him. As his eyes flicker back up at yours, you glance back at him and lean in to take his lips with yours again. It's intoxicating how he has a soft dominant nature to him; the way Aizawa’s mouth overtook yours was so natural and steady. Not too much nor too little. You were so lost in his kisses that you didn't even notice you were switching positions with him until you were properly straddling his lap and your hands were resting on his shoulders.

“Ride it.”

He had said in a haze, glaring eyes staring back at yours with no patience behind them. Despite you two only making out and petting for only so long you feel giddy to finally get on with it. You slowly nodded your head as you carefully tried to get off his lap to remove your shorts. Aizawa did his part in reaching into his back pocket and only letting down his pants only enough to let his cock out. Due to his inebriation he wasn't the hardest as he typically is, but that'll all change once the real part comes in.

Your eyes quickly scanned the scene as you reached under the cabinet of the coffee table for your lube to help slick you up, not having much foreplay beforehand. Once you grabbed it you happily straddled him again and put a healthy serving on his awaiting cock. Thankfully he had already wrapped himself up so you didn't have to fumble with that this time around. Once you put the amount you were comfortable with, you got in position and lined yourself up on his tip. You toyed with your lip as you slowly sunk yourself onto it, you two pulling in a deep breath as you continued to do so. It wasn't until you had basically taken in most of his length did you two exhale in relief, the sensation so much better than you remembered.

Aizawa's hands find your hips to help guide you once you start to move, a heavy moan escaping your lips as his sizable hands gripped your skin. You dared to look back at yourself, out of breath and riding off pure ecstasy and lust. You watched as he grew more greedy, instead of going with your original pace and speeding you up as he sunk himself deeper into your greedy cunt. Because that's exactly what you were. Greedy.

You lean your body more against his as you try to adjust, the sound of his cock hitting up into you growing louder by the second. Skin slapping against skin, with the occasional sound of his hand slapping your ass for good measure. He wasn't discreet in checking you out either, every so often glancing towards the mirror you had in your living room that perfectly gave him a view of you riding his cock like no tomorrow. Or at least he was making you do so.

Your whimpers filled the room as you were starting to get overstimulated by the second. You were mumbling his name and cursing as if you were trying to rid of him, eyes closed in bliss and hands tightly fisting the couch that sat behind him and his sweatshirt. Against your better judgment and his, you didn't even think to question him sucking and biting your neck, leaving evidence with his kisses that he was claiming someone that will never be his. A sharp nip on your skin is what catches your attention, a frustrated groan coming from you once you realize.

“Ngh…” You start to speak but fail miserably. As best as you could lean away from his lips without sacrificing your position didn't work as Aizawa wraps his arms around your waist and effortlessly flips you two over on the couch.

With his cock still in you, he pounds into your wet pussy, mouth once again on yours and swallows your vocal sounds. Your hands are tangled in his black hair as you have completely forgotten about your complaint, legs wrapped around his hips to help lock him in. You try your best to gyrate up against him, head tilting back as you near your first intimate high for the night.

You breathe out his name in the form of his nickname, the sensation of hearing you whisper for him against his ear bringing a guilty shiver down his spine. He even lets out a small groan as you manage to clench unbelievably tight around him as you come undone, the feeling almost unbearable. He dishes out a few more thrusts of his until he's filling the condom he wore. Unlike you though, the kisses you delivered onto his neck had him sobering up fast and quickly coming to terms with tonight's exchange. Aizawa couldn't bring himself to judge you as a person, either.

Knowing he has his own partner waiting at home, oblivious.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #eraserhead x reader #aizawa smut #plug!aizawa #plug au #bnha imagines #mha imagines #n/sfw #sav's sinning

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grxmreaperx · 7 months

Text

Professor Hoffman

Pairing: (professor!) Mark Hoffman x (f!) reader

Word count: 3.1k (oops)

Warnings: 18+!! this is absolute filth. Daddy kink, choking, oral (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), dirty talk, p in v penetration, creampie, age gap (everyone is over 18!!), praise/degradation. Mark being a bastard. I’m so sorry

Summary: You weren’t expecting much from your criminology class. But when you see your professor for the first time, you realize the class may be much more interesting than you were expecting.

I went so overboard with this. I do not know where this came from. I apologize for my actions. Also, all of my knowledge comes from Jim Can’t Swim and Explore With Us interrogation analysis videos, so don’t come for me if some of the criminology stuff is wrong!!

You walked into the lecture hall, bag digging into your shoulder after a long day, trying to find a seat. You sighed. Almost every seat was full, people congregating in the back. You set yourself down in the second row from the front, one of the few empty seats.

You pulled your laptop out of your bag, trying to keep yourself awake. This was your last class of the day and all you could think about was getting back to your apartment and having a nice dinner.

You stifled a yawn, eyes unfocused on your screen.

“Welcome, everyone.”

The deep voice jolted you from your haze, drawing your eyes up from your computer, and onto him.

You felt a jolt run through your body as you took him in. Dark hair neatly pushed back, full lips, chest straining at his suit.

“I’m Professor Hoffman. I’ll be your criminology instructor this semester.”

Shit, maybe you weren’t so ready to go home anymore.

That was the one class you didn’t find yourself dreading. Your other psychology and criminal justice classes were a bore, lecturers talking monotonously for an hour and twenty minutes as you tried desperately to stay awake. Professor Hoffman’s class was actually interesting, it challenged you, made you think. He didn’t force you all to listen to him talk the entire time, even if you wouldn’t have minded hearing that voice for hours on end. He had been a detective before switching to teaching a few years back, so he played interrogation tapes, having you all watch the body language, the word choice, the facial expressions of the suspect.

And it was nice to have something pretty to look at while he taught.

You were a bit embarrassed by how many times he had caught you staring at him. You had never looked at a professor as anything more than a teacher, a mentor, before now. But during his lecture, you found your mind drifting. What his voice would sound like in your ear, how his hands would feel roaming over you, the noises he would make.

You had had your fair share of adventures in college, going out with your friends and ending up in someone’s bed every once in a while. But none of them had been anything to brag about; frat boys only in it for themselves, guys who had no idea what they were doing, or didn’t know how to make it last.

You needed something more, something satisfying.

“So, tell me, do you think this suspect was guilty or not guilty? And tell me why.”

His voice shook you out of your daydream, bringing you back to your reality. Your eyes scanned over the screen, trying to remember bits and pieces of the interrogation you were supposed to have been watching.

You raised your hand; as much as you hated it, you wanted to impress the man. You wanted to show him that you were smart, that you knew what you were talking about. And that you were paying attention, not just staring at him the entire time.

He nodded towards you, telling you to go ahead. “Not guilty. He got angry when you accused him, which is a very typical response from someone who is being falsely accused. And he didn’t use any hedge words when he was talking, which would be unusual for a guilty person. And there’s no obvious motive.”

Your professor smirked, nodding along as you answered. “Very good. That’s exactly right. Another clue to tell you this was…”

You zoned out, trying to contain yourself at his praise.

He scolded himself, his gaze continuously falling onto you throughout every class.

He had left the police department a couple years ago, looking for a job with shorter hours, more time to relax, less frustration.

But now he had a different kind of frustration.

Every class, there you were. Sitting right in front of him, eyes watching him intently as he spoke. He saw the way your face changed every time he walked in the room, your tired face lighting up a bit. He saw the way your gaze lingered on him when you were supposed to be working on an assignment, or watching one of the interviews you were meant to be dissecting.

He noticed your attempts to impress him, always eager to answer his questions. You were always there early, even when others began to slowly fade out, showing up late or not showing up at all.

And, he had to admit, it was working. You were smart, and he could see how interested you were in this topic, even if you seemed to be a bit more interested in him than the class. He knew you’d make a great detective one day; your understanding of others’ minds would be a great asset to the force.

He almost wished he hadn’t left the department. He would give anything to still be in his position when you were first starting out in the field, eager to learn, to impress, to please. He would love for you to train under him, your frustration growing as he teased you, giving you smaller and smaller tasks, making you prove yourself.

He pulled himself away from his thoughts, shuffling his notes together before the start of class.

“Alright everyone, I’ve posted your grades for your last assignment. Some of you did very well, others seem to be a bit distracted in this course.” He purposefully shifted his gaze, meeting your eyes as he spoke this last part.

He suppressed a smirk as he saw your face flush.

“Now, the rational choice theory…”

“I really don’t know what I’m doing wrong in that class,” you sighed.

Your friend nodded. “I mean, he is a pretty tough grader. I don’t think I’ve gotten above a C on anything.”

“Yeah, but I feel like my work is good! Some of it he seems to really like, and then others he’s super harsh. But I thought this last paper was really good!”

“Maybe you should go talk to him about it. Maybe he could help you out, tell you what you’re doing wrong.”

“Yeah, I guess. I probably should. I really like this class; I want to do well in it.”

Your friend smirked. “Do you like the class, or do you like the hot professor?”

You lightly slapped their arm. “Shut up, I don’t think he’s hot.”

They laughed. “Of course you do! I see you staring at him all the time! It’s ok: he is pretty hot.”

You felt your face heating up. “Ok, maybe I think he’s kinda hot, but I like the class too!”

“I hear you.”

As class ended the next day, you took a breath. You shouldn’t be this nervous to talk to him, he was your professor, of course he would be willing to help you. You lingered in your seat for a few moments, taking longer than usual to stuff your laptop back in your bag. As people filed out of the room, you carefully approached his desk.

“Professor Hoffman?”

He looked up, smiling slightly as he met your eyes. “Yes, what can I do for you?”

“I was hoping that maybe you had time to talk to me about my last paper? I was wondering if you could tell me what I did wrong, or what I could improve next time?”

He regarded you for a moment and you couldn’t help but shift a bit under his gaze.

“Of course. I have another class in a few minutes, but I have time to meet tomorrow, if you’d like.”

You nodded, thanking him as he gave you a time and his office number. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

He smirked. “See you then. Don’t be late.”

“What are you all dressed up for?” your friend asked.

“What? I’m not dressed up. Do I look dressed up?”

“I mean, maybe not dressed up, but you look nice. What’s the occasion?”

“Nothing, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

They smiled. “Oh! Now I remember. You have your meeting with the hot professor today! That’s why you dressed so cute.”

“I did not!”

“I don’t believe you. You better hurry up, don’t you have to be there in a few minutes?”

You looked at your phone, cursing under your breath. They were right, you only had a couple minutes before your meeting. You sped up your pace, telling your friend you’d see them later as they walked to their class building.

“You better tell me all about it! Don’t do anything inappropriate, young lady!”

You hurried into the brick building that held Professor Hoffman’s office, trying to find the room number he had given you. Your eyes scanned the plaques next to each door, looking for the one engraved with his name. When you finally found it, the door was shut. You knocked softly, waiting patiently until you heard a voice tell you to come in.

You pushed the door open, examining his office as you entered. One wall was lined with bookshelves, filled with books on psychology, criminal justice, and what looked like case files. His desk sat in front of the window, his back to the light streaming in through the glass. He sat, leaned back in his desk chair, shirt slightly unbuttoned and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“Take a seat,” he said, motioning to the chair in front of his desk. You quickly complied, smoothing your skirt as you sat down.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you when you walked into his office, closing the door behind you. He should have punished you right then for testing him like that: all dressed up for him, pretty skirt cutting off just above your knees, shirt lower cut than he had ever seen you wearing in class.

“So,” he started, trying to regain his composure. “You wanted to talk to me about your paper?”

You nodded. “Yes, sir.” Fuck. “I was wondering if you could tell me what I could have done better with this assignment. I thought I did really well on it, until I got my grade back.”

He cleared his throat. “Yes, well, it was very well-written. And you have the concepts down. But your job was to analyze the video, not just repeat what I had said in class. Even if you put it a bit more eloquently than I did.” He smiled. “I almost get the feeling that you’re a bit…distracted in my class.

He watched as you became flustered, a smile still on his lips. “Well, professor, I just – I just have a lot on my mind. Sometimes it wanders, you know?” Your eyes darted around, staring at your hands, your bag on the floor, the surface of his desk.

He nodded. “Wanders to what?”

He couldn’t help the smug look on his face as you struggled to answer. He knew what your mind wandered to, he could see it on your face when you were supposed to be paying attention to his lectures. He saw the blush on your face, the way your pupils were blown. And he knew exactly where your mind was wandering to.

“Well, you know, to other things I have to do.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Like me?”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

“You heard me. I see the way you stare at me, the look on your face when I catch you. You think I have no idea what you think about when you’re in my class? You think I can’t read you like a book, sweetheart?”

He tilted his head, watching as you took in his words. You looked like a deer in headlights, knowing he had figured out your secret. He saw the way your body stiffened at the pet name, your legs pressing together.

“I’ll tell you what,” he started, against his better judgement. “You really want to improve your grade?”

You nodded. He told himself to stop, to kick you out of his office before he put his career in jeopardy. But, God, the look on your face, so eager to hear what he had to say, pretty face flushed with embarrassment, legs squeezed together so tight he thought you might explode.

“Cmere,” he said in a low voice.

You slowly stood, making your way around his desk to stand in front of him. “Tell me, sweetheart,” he growled. “Where does your mind wander to during my class? I want to hear you tell me.”

“To you,” you said softly.

“Cmon, baby, you can do better than that.” He knew he was being a dick, he saw how flustered you were, how you were trying to work up the courage to answer his question. And he loved it.

“To you – to you…”

“To me fucking you?” he helped.

“Yes.” Your eyes were fixed on your hands.

“Look at me and say it.”

Your eyes met his. “My mind wanders to – to you fucking me.”

“Much better. Now, you really want to improve your grade, sweetheart?”

You nodded and he saw the eagerness in your eyes, waiting for him to tell you what to do.

“Then get on your fuckin’ knees.”

He smiled, chuckling as you quickly dropped to your knees in front of his chair, hands getting to work on his belt. He watched your eyes widen as you released him from his dress pants and couldn’t help the feeling of pride that swelled in his chest.

“Something wrong, baby?” he asked, cocky smile spreading across his face. You shook your head. “Then go on.”

He let out a deep groan as you took him into your mouth, placing a hand on the back of your head. He wrapped his hand in your hair, guiding you as his dick hit the back of your throat. “Such a good girl.” He leaned his head back against the chair, savoring the feeling of your head bobbing on his cock.

His looked back down at you, eyes darkening as he saw how eagerly you sucked him off, spit coating your lips, tears welling in your eyes every time you took him down your throat. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little distracted during classes too, picturing you just like this.

He pulled your head back by your hair until you were looking up at him. “Get up here, sweetheart,” he said, motioning to his lap.

You shakily got to your feet before straddling his lap, setting your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. He reached under your skirt, hands gripping your ass. He watched as you began to grind your clothed core on his dick, admiring the desperate look on your face.

“What’s the matter, baby?” he asked, hand slowly wrapping around your throat. “So desperate for me. No one been taking care of this pussy?”

You frantically shook your head, grinding down harder.

“Poor little slut. Take them off. I’ll take good care of you, sweetheart.”

You shifted on his lap, pulling your underwear down your legs and tossing them to the side. He slowly ran a finger through your folds, letting out a low hum. “God, baby, this all for me?” Your answer was cut off by him pushing two fingers inside of you, your words turning to a moan. He slowly pumped his fingers, curling them inside you while your ground down on his hand.

“Poor baby, those college boys don’t know how to make you feel good? You’re so fuckin’ desperate.” You quickly shook your head, too lost in the feeling of him working you to form words. You whined when he pulled his fingers out.

He lined himself up at your entrance, the other hand wrapping around your waist, holding you steady. “Go on, baby. Show me how needy you are.”

You slowly slid yourself down onto his cock, mouth falling open as he stretched you out. His head fell back onto his chair, eyes screwing shut, before quickly opening them again, taking in the sight of you full of his dick. He placed his hands on your hips, keeping you steady as you began to bounce. You quickly picked up the pace, grinding yourself down on him, eyes clouded from pleasure.

Your moans filled his ears, eyes roaming your body as you fucked yourself on his cock.

“God, baby, you look so fuckin’ pretty. Such a good little whore for me, hmm?”

“Yes, yes, just for you, Daddy!” you moaned, before quickly catching yourself. He saw your eyes widen, realizing what you had just said.

He wrapped his strong arm around your waist, standing from his chair, still buried deep inside you, before setting you on his desk. He wrapped a hand around your throat, squeezing slightly and pushing your back down onto the surface. “Say it again.”

“I’m all yours, Daddy,” you said softly.

“That’s fuckin’ right baby.” He set a fast pace, roughly fucking into you, one hand still around your throat, the other gripping your hip so hard he knew it would probably leave marks.

He let out a groan at the sight of you underneath him, skirt bunched around your waist, mouth hanging open, hands gripping his arms. He watched your back arch off the table, squeezing your eyes shut.

He froze, abruptly stopping his thrusts. “Look at me when you cum on my dick, baby. Fuckin’ look at me or I’ll stop again. Understand?”

“Yes sir,” you cried, eyes locked on his.

“Much better.” His fingers found their way to your clit as he continued burying himself in you. “Cum for me baby, show me how much you love my cock.”

Your nails dug into his arm as your legs shook around him, moaning loudly as you reached your high. He felt his own end coming on. He leaned down, his face inches from yours. “Tell me sweetheart, where do you want me to cum?”

“Inside…” was all you could manage, still overcome with pleasure.

He smiled. “You want me to fill you up, baby?” You nodded, begging him to fill you.

His pace faltered as he came, gripping your hips tightly. He let go of you, placing his hands on his desk, catching his breath. He slowly pulled out of you, pulling his pants back up and tossing you your underwear. You carefully sat up, legs still shaking slightly.

He settled himself back in his chair, leaning back and running a hand through his hair. He smirked at you, sitting on his desk, completely undone.

“I suppose I can raise your grade on that paper,” he started. “But I do think we should have weekly tutoring sessions. You obviously need some more help with this.” He smirked at you. “Does that sound good to you?”

You never agreed to something faster in your life.

I really liked writing this, if y’all like it I may give you a part 2👀

#mark hoffman x reader #mark hoffman #fanfiction #fanfic #smut #saw #saw franchise

411 notes · View notes

astraariel · 8 months

Text

scarlett love

pairing: sanji x fem!reader

summary: you forgot him, chose to let Sanji go, but was that enough? would the universe leave you alone and let you live in peace?

word count: 4.1K

warnings: cursing; spoilers (?) just mention of a character from the whole cake island arc, it’s a modern!au so I don't mention anything about the actual arc!

tags: angst; fluff; hanahaki disease; modern!au; reconciliation; second chances; unrequited turned requited; slight self-hate; happy endings

author’s note: okkkkay here it is. so many of you guys asked for it so here’s pt 2 to eternal snow! I initially wanted to post the mihawk fic first that i'm working on but I can’t finish writing it for the life of me so I decided to work on this one instead lol.

like I mentioned before, this is part 2 to this fic so obvi read that before you read this one!

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

They say people who have the surgery are doomed for life.

How could they choose to never love again; how could they deliberately go through with the surgery knowing they would never have those emotions again?

But in actuality, it was the choice of forgetting about that love.

People don’t know the grievances and the strength it takes to choose to forget the love of your life. They don’t know the despair of being in love with someone wholeheartedly knowing they don’t love you back.

That you would never remember those emotions for whom you loved.

You saw it as this: if you couldn’t live to love your person, you wouldn’t bear to love at all.

So in that way, you won.

You gained the power to no longer grieve for your love because you simply couldn’t remember him.

Since hanahaki disease was rare, there weren’t too many recovery patients to base knowledge on since many of the victims chose to die rather than to be saved.

So you were honestly going in blind.

Nami would sometimes ask you if you could remember anything, a nervous look on her face, you knew she remembered your past love, but the doctor had told her to not mention anything to you in your recovery period. You think she asked out of curiosity.

Or maybe fear?

But every time you’d just tell her that you couldn’t, your head would hurt if you thought too hard and too long about who you had lost.

If you could remember specific memories, they weren't fully visualized, they were static, like when an old TV was out of range from the signal and would struggle to picture the channel.

All you could remember was his silhouette, his figure blurry and his name was always on the tip of your tongue but you could never place your finger on it.

You remember during your first check-up, the doctor had asked you if you could describe your past love,

“I'm not sure.”

Your voice had been wobbly like you were on the verge of crying. Tears had pricked your eyes, along with the feeling of not being able to breathe even though those damn flowers were gone.

Not being able to understand why?

That feeling went away a week later.

You laugh at yourself now, chiding yourself for being ridiculous back then.

At what point could you have allowed yourself to be so deeply in love with someone that it was killing you? You could never understand.

It was an absurd, abysmal idea that you had ever gotten to that point.

While the doctor said the following months would be difficult getting used to your new life of having one less emotion, you were fine.

It had helped that Nami had stayed by your side, and when she couldn’t Sanji would.

Sanji was an angel.

He tended to your every need, always made sure you didn’t lift a finger even after you told him multiple times you could do it yourself.

But he always reassured you he didn’t mind.

You were sad to hear that he stopped seeing Pudding. It was honestly too bad because she was good for him, he deserves someone who can love and care for him just as much as he cares for others.

Nevertheless, you were glad he was here for you.

The sound of music playing softly in the background comforts you as you shuffle through your kitchen making dinner.

You and Sanji have recently started having weekly dinners with each other, an idea he came up with.

“We can update each other about our lives, good ole fashion face-to-face interaction.”

“I don’t think my life is going to change too much in the week we don’t see each other, Sanji”

The sound of the door ringing pulls you from your thoughts, drying your hands with a towel, you walk over to the front door.

The cool November breeze greets you as soon as you open the door, Sanji’s figure fills your view.

The coat he’s wearing to protect himself from the wind encapsulates him in a way that makes you smile instinctively, you can see his red ears peeking from under his blond hair.

“Come in, come in, I was just finishing up dinner.”

“Oh, can I help you with anything else?” he offers while shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack beside the front door. “Or are you not allowing me into your kitchen again?” he smirks toward you.

You roll your eyes and scoff, “It’s my turn to make dinner, you cook for a living, it's my time to shine now, dude.” He chuckles and begins to set the table for the two of you.

The warm food fills the plate in your hand, placing it on the counter, you grab another plate. “So, how’s work?”

Sanji grabs both of the plates and brings them to the table, setting them down, he looks back at you. “Ah, the old man’s got me working late most days.”

You smile softly at the scene; since you can remember you and Sanji have been able to work in tandem. Back when Nami first introduced you, it was like a pull connecting the two of you, also guiding and leading the two of you in perfect harmony.

It was nice.

Finishing your dinner, Sanji grabs his cup, “That was delicious, thank you.”

“Well I did have a decent teacher,” you say into the glass smiling, gulping down the liquid you set it back down and look at Sanji.

He goes to say something before he’s interrupted by a cough.

Sanji turns his head and coughs into a handkerchief he pulled from his pocket, he quickly wipes his mouth before looking back at you, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

Shaking your head in acknowledgement you begin cleaning up the dinner table.

“Oh I forgot, I bought flowers, they’re in the living room let me grab them real quick.” Sanji stands quickly.

Turning, you watch him walk away, not catching the lone petal falling out of his pocket.

♡‧₊˚

Vinsmoke Sanji has done a lot of things.

Some of which he regrets, but others he stands by, but there was one that met both criteria.

And that was you.

He was glad he met you, that he was able to spend time being with you, loving you, and knowing that you loved him back.

But he regrets hurting you. He regrets letting himself be temporarily infatuated with Pudding. Sanji had laughed in the face of fate, and in return, he got what he deserved.

His impending end.

The petals had shown up the day you went into the hospital.

While you were given a second chance at life, Sanji had just signed his away.

He remembers the memory of Nami telling him what had happened. He had it permanently seared into his brain, never allowing himself to forget the moment.

Her eyes were red, face hot with anger when she pulled up to his house.

“You absolute idiot.” He hadn’t even fully opened the door before she was swearing at him, cursing him to the ends of the earth over what he had done. “You did this. You caused that pain…if I hadn't found her…,” her hands had started punching his chest.

“She would have been gone, all because of you.”

A part of Sanji died that day.

So when he got the same disease you had, he knew he deserved it.

Wasn’t it only right that he got the same death sentence that almost took you away?

It was slow at first, from what Nami had told him about your situation, Sanji knew this was how it started.

The first few weeks were bearable, he could go about his daily life without causing any suspicion. No one would ask if he was okay or anything, just simply being able to cough into a tissue and discard it quickly.

Then the blossoms came.

After one terrible night of constantly coughing up blood and flower blossoms, Sanji did some research. He knew the full blooms were next along with the finishing blow of the roots. It had only been a month since you had your surgery, and yet his hanahaki was a lot more accelerated in comparison to yours.

A month since he had realized he was deathly in love with you.

But he could bear this burden. Who was he to complain about his death trickling closer than it normally should?

Sanji remembered the moment he realized his disease would finish him more swiftly, that he was faster along than he typically should be; whether it was because the universe knew you could never love him back or it was simply his punishment for what he did.

Probably both.

Even though he knew he could easily fix the problem, he didn't have the right to get a second chance.

How could he?

How long did you spend hiding your condition away, not even when he had broken things off, before then? How long were you hurting because you knew he was lying when he said he loved you?

The gall he would have to have to go through with the surgery?

Absolutely not.

But deep in his heart, he also couldn’t bring himself to forget you. He’d rather be a coward and a liar than choose a life undeserving of him.

He would rather die than forget you, to never be able to love you again would be death itself.

He hated himself for what he did to you. The insolence he had to hurt someone as caring as you, why did he take advantage of that?

He himself every day.

If he had to live with constantly coughing up blood and bending over the toilet puking up flower petals just for you to live your life? Yeah, he could do that. He could live with the pain of knowing that you would never love him back.

That you could never love him back.

It quite literally was in human nature that he would never be saved unless he did the surgery, since you couldn’t even love anyone anymore.

Sanji’s hand lifts his handkerchief up to his mouth, his body heaving with a hard cough of petals.

He sighs.

♡‧₊˚

The TV light shines on both you and Sanji’s forms as the movie comes to an end, the ending credits miniaturizing as the screen recommends a shitty Christmas movie that has the both of you turning to the other.

“That was an unnecessarily long movie.” Sanji’s comment makes you laugh.

“Right? God, it was dragging on for a really long time.” Shaking his head he stands up to place the popcorn bucket on the kitchen counter.

You follow him holding the cups that held lemonade two hours ago. “It’s getting late, I should probably go.”

“Yeah, probably, oh wait-I bought something for you, meant to give it to you when we had dinner at your place but I forgot.” Sanji’s voice trails as he goes off to his bedroom.

You stand there for a couple of minutes before checking the time, “Yo, Sanji, did’ya get lost?” laughing to yourself, you walk over into the bedroom. Your eyes immediately meet Sanji’s form hunched over on the ground.

A gasp falls from your lips as you rush over to him. “Sanji, oh god, are you okay what’s wrong-”

You cut yourself off when you bend down to look at him, there you see a pool of blood on the hardwood floor, petals scattered around the scene with a full flower bloom sitting in his hands.

“What?” you can’t breathe.

Sanji says your name but you don’t hear him, your brows knit together as you look up at him. “I don’t understand why are you coughing up petals?”

No? This couldn’t be happening.

Your heart breaks.

Who did Sanji love so dearly that he was cursed with the same disease that had you in its chokehold not long ago?

You would never wish this on anyone, no one deserved to live through the hurt of having unrequited love.

“You weren’t,” he wipes his mouth, “you weren’t supposed to find out.”

“I don’t-why wouldn't you want to tell me? If anything, I’d be the only person able to understand. Sanji, who is it?” your eyes scan his face.

Sanji’s ragged breathing fills the air between the two of you. “I can’t.”

You furrow your brows even more, shaking your head. “Please just tell me so I can help-”

“You can’t.”

“What do you mean, I can’t? You’re not making sense.”

Sanji closes his eyes. “It’s you.”

You stop breathing, the figure in your memory rushes to the forefront of your brain like a tsunami.

In the past the figure was always blurry, never in frame in your mind, only being able to trace his silhouette, but now it was different.

It was like he was right in front of you like you could smell him, feel his hands in yours, his warmth. Feel his lips against your lips when he-

“It was you.” your voice was quiet, “You were the one I loved.”

His eyes snap at yours, a gasp falling from his lips.

“The person I loved so deeply… that it caused me so much pain.”

And there it was, the fog had been lifted.

“How could I have forgotten?” How ironic the entire thing was.

“Why would I ever forget about my love for you, Sanji?” you look at him, “What grief did you cause me?”

A tidal wave of emotions, affections, all poured out of your soul and into your memories. The months of coughing up petal after petal till they turned to full flower blooms. The fear that a root would pop up once you pulled your tissue from your face.

The pain and the hurt that Sanji had caused you.

The pain of knowing that he didn't love you anymore.

It all came rushing back.

“Why would you keep this from me?” you were getting angry, but was it for the right reason?

Hadn’t you done the same with him? Hadn’t you kept it from all the people you loved as well?

“You know why I went through with the surgery? It wasn’t Nami who made me, well not partially, but why I allowed myself to let her drive me to the hospital was because I didn't want you to suffer.” your eyes were burning, the tears threatening to fall.

“I don't understand?” Of course, he wouldn’t.

“You were obviously unhappy, Sanji. If I removed myself from the equation, it would solve everything and at…at first I thought dying was the solution I really did.” your eyes drop, “And maybe Nami finding me was a saving grace but, I originally wasn't gonna do anything.”

“Week after week, Sanji, I was drowning. I wanted to yell at anyone who would listen and ask why I couldn't have anything, why couldn’t I be happy? That the universe had some sort of fucking vendetta against me.”

“So I decided to let you go, to choose to live a life of unknown heartache, and when I finally thought I had accomplished that. The universe just spits in my face by cursing you.”

“Don’t you see it? We don’t belong together, Sanji.” The anger was gone now, all that was left was emptiness.“We have the signs, we need to heed them and move on.”

Sanji says your name with a plea, but you ignore him. “Just get the surgery, stop hurting the both of us.”

“It does us no good if you're dead.” And with that, you walk out of the bedroom and out the front door.

♡‧₊˚

The quiet murmurs of the newscaster talking about the weather for the week could barely be heard from the running water you were using to wash the dishes.

You haven't seen Sanji in a couple of weeks, not since he announced that you were the one whom he was in love with.

And definitely not since you remembered he was the one whom you had loved before.

And while at first, you were angry. Angry at him for lying and keeping such vital information from you.

It later turned to guilt.

Guilt for getting angry at him. Guilt for causing him pain.

But it wasn’t your fault, it’s not like you chose not to love him, you physically couldn’t anymore. You signed that ability off months ago.

But you also missed him. Since you weren’t talking to him, you weren’t having your weekly dinners or your impromptu movie nights anymore.

You missed just talking to him. You missed the lame jokes he’d tell in hopes of hearing your laugh, that smile he’d get whenever he spoke about a new recipe.

You missed him.

But you were also confused.

After he had revealed that he loved you and you had remembered that your past love was him, it became too much for you to handle.

Glancing at the moon, you dry your hands on a towel and walk into the living room. The weatherman was currently informing you of a chance of rain tomorrow during the already cold late January weather.

Sighing you go to sit down before something catches your eyes. A picture frame that hangs on your wall glints as you walk toward it.

It was a photo of you and Sanji looking at the camera with wide smiles on display from Sanji’s birthday two years prior. On top of your heads sat a birthday hat colored blue for the sea theme your friends had thrown together as a joke for the blonde that year.

You remember how you felt that day, the anxiety of wanting to get Sanji the perfect gift and when he finally opened it, he had hugged you which had you blushing like crazy while you swatted his “thank yous” away.

God, where did this deja vu come from?

It was weird, you weren't sure what it was.

It felt like your entire being was full. Full of intense and overwhelming emotions, an emotion you shouldn't feel. An emotion that was eradicated from your life when you stepped out of that hospital.

But here it was, rearing its big ugly face once again.

For Sanji.

You stumble back as if you had been shocked with electricity.

Looking around your apartment you close your eyes.

How could this happen? Why were you still being punished again?

You had endured the pain, chose to get rid of it and now you’ve been having to live with knowing that Sanji also was experiencing the exact same pain.

Sanji.

How could you have been so cold? Telling him to do the surgery? What was wrong with you?

You missed him. You missed your love for him. The feelings you’d get when he’d look your way. Sanji was your ambrosia and you needed him to survive.

But you didn’t miss how you felt when he chose another over you. Those feelings you wished you hadn’t remembered.

You weren't sure how you were still able to feel Sanji's love. But here you were.

An anomaly that you were.

Guess that shows how deep your love truly was rooted.

How could you have allowed yourself to forget?

The drive to Sanji’s apartment was quiet, opting to not play music or turn the radio on so that you could think clearly with your new (re) developed emotions.

Pulling up to the driveway, you step out of your car. The jacket you have on trapping your heat from the cold winds of the night.

The few steps to the front door felt like a lifetime. The moonlight provided a little comfort to your restless self.

Exhaling, you bring your hand to knock at the door, a small part of you hoping Sanji wasn’t home so you could go home and pretend like nothing happened.

The door swings open revealing Sanji. His eyes were wide like he couldn’t believe you were standing in front of him.

“Hey…can I come in?” you look up at him expectantly.

“Yeah, yeah come in.” Sending him a quick smile you walk past him and into the living room.

He shuts the door and faces you, you turn and finally get a good look at him in the light.

He looked worse for wear, his eyes had bags under them, a sign he hadn’t been sleeping if at all. Whether that was because of your argument or his condition, you didn't know. One hand was in his pocket and the other was fiddling with his handkerchief.

“How are you…” signaling your hand at him, “I mean physically, how are you? What stage?”

He looks away, “well…I’m still living,” he chuckles quietly.

You sigh.

God the two of you were truly messed up.

“It all came back.”

“What?” he questions.

Your eyes begin to glaze over, “My memories, everything.” you wet your lips, “All of it, Sanji.”

“It just-all came back…on top of our argument, of you telling me you loved me.” Tears fell down your cheeks. “Of how I felt when you were-when you were with Pudding.”

He says your name.

“And I hated it, I hated remembering how I felt, Sanji. I remember pitying myself, wondering what I had done wrong, why you hadn’t loved me anymore,” he says your name again, “but I also remembered how I felt loving you.” you look up at him with your tear-streaked face.

“And I will never regret loving you, not then, definitely not now. I also don’t regret forgetting, because I understand why I did it. I loved you enough to be able to let you go. To be able to know you’ll live your life happily, whether that’s with me or someone else. I didn’t care. Just that you were happy.”

“But I wasn’t-”

You cut him off, “I knew you didn't love me how I loved you, but I still knew you cared. So if I had died, even from death, I would have hated myself for hurting you. So I chose to forget.” you wipe your cheek, “I just wish you had never gotten that godforsaken thing as well.”

“Sanji I…I love you wholeheartedly. You encompass my entire existence. I live for you. Even now, when I didn't remember how I felt for you. It was there. My love for you was still inside. And it always will be. I think even if you hadn’t told me you loved me now, I would have remembered anyway. Simply because that’s who I am, I am my love for you, you consume my entire soul.” You probably looked like a mess.

“You look beautiful.” Did you say that out loud?

You smile softly, “So when you admitted that you loved me, that I was inadvertently hurting you, I couldn’t take it. I had been the monster I sought to eliminate. So I pushed you away.” you sigh, “I pushed you away because I didn't want to go through the same pain again. I was selfish if you had just done the surgery, I'd be able to forget about this again and you wouldn't even remember.” you walk toward Sanji. “I’ve learned that I can’t run away from you anymore. And I’ve realized that I don’t want to lose you again.”

“So let me save you.”

Sanji’s face was red, his eyes were blurry with tears, his fist clenching his handkerchief filled with petals and blooms.

“I’m so sorry.” Sanji’s voice trembles, “I am so sorry, I caused you so much pain, if I could take it back I would. And I don’t even deserve you, I’m not worthy of your love, but if you allow me, let me make it up.”

You close the gap between the two of you and pull his lips toward your own. They’re slightly chapped and both of your guy’s faces are wet but you don’t care. You feel his fingers carding through your hair, pulling you deeper.

This kiss was different from any others before, this one was filled with desire and want but it was also filled with joy and love.

You were finally happy.

You pull away first, breathing heavily and your face flushed, “You already are.”

“I love you so much, please never forget.” you wipe a stray tear, cradling his face.

You want to commit this memory in your brain. No more forgetting, no more letting go. To make sure that for the night, no cough was to be heard, no petal was to be hidden,

just two lovers finally with one another, forever.

#astraariel♡#one piece #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x y/n

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genshin-side-piece · 9 months

Text

Love Me Tender

Warnings: Yandere Content, Implied Kidnapping, Implied Captivity, Implied Stalking, Somnophilia, Non-Consensual Touching, Sexual themes, not smut (sorry), my bad writing, anything else I missed, 18+, Minors DNI

Maybe OOC for him? It's hard to say.

Neuvillette's favorite time to be with you is in the dead of night. He enjoys the days, in the sense that he enjoys being near you. Watching you from across the room did bring a sense of comfort from the knowledge that you were safe in his care, but that was all. He garnered no satisfaction in it, not when he ached to be so much closer to you than what he is allowed to be. You denied him that. Despite you being in his home, in his care, you denied him the right to be next to or close to you. He was only ever allowed to be near and even that had not come easily. It was the one concession you had made after doing all you could to avoid him.

In the past, outside of meals, you had always left the room the second he would appear. It was in vain of course. Neuvillette would follow you, like a loyal dog follows its master. His eyes fixed on your form, dutifully watching your every move. Room to room, hallway to hallway, until he finally cornered you in a space where you could not escape. From there he would take his appointed place near the door, keeping you where he wanted you until it was time to change for dinner or on the rarest of rare things, he allowed you to take dinner in your room before going to bed early. It had gone on from the day you had entered his house, lasting for months on end. You would run and he would chase. Oddly, he found it fun. The concept of chasing or hunting you awoke something dormant in him. An instinct that had long been buried due to its lack of use. It became a game between you, a battle of wills to see if he could trap you or if you could manage to get away. You never did of course. He had the upper hand when it came to his hunting grounds. If he wanted you in a particular room or to travel a specific path, he knew which keys to hide and which doors to lock beforehand to get you to go the way he intended.

His favorite place to keep you was his study. Unlike the other spaces in his house, the study was on the smaller side. His desk dominated most of the space in the room, leaving either a small sofa or a chair beside him as your only two choices if you wished to sit. Any of the other options you had tried, like the corner that was furthest from him, were automatically dismissed. Seeing you was a luxury he could rarely afford. While he enjoyed his hunts, Neuvillette preferred not to waste what time he did have with you moving furniture every time he wished to see your face. His one insistence on the matter had been that you make a choice between resting by his side or the sofa. He had told you he didn’t have a preference of where, even though it was very clear he did. By his side was always preferable, though the thought of you sitting on the floor that first time awoke something that the gentleman in him tried its best to deny. Just the idea of you kneeling beside him was enough to make his c*ck stir. On the nights he didn’t come to your side, he laid awake, practically consumed by it. Your cheek grazing his thigh, his fingers combing their way through your silky hair, your contented little sigh as you rested your full weight against his leg. It was pathetic to think that fantasizing about the most basic forms of contact were enough to bring him to a swift orgasm, but here he was. After many months together, Neuvillette found himself so desperate for your acceptance, for your love, for your warmth that the mere mention of contact would cause him to make a mess of his hand. Maybe it was a good thing you always chose the sofa. If you did bring yourself to willingly be beside him or touch him, he might cum on the spot.

He had time to work on that or at least that’s how he consoled himself as he cleaned himself up in the dark. The weather had been warm as of late. It had made maintaining a specific distance easy for you. He had to wonder if you would feel the same way once the weather turned cold. His office, like the rest of his house, did have a reputation for being drafty. Since you refused anything beyond the most basic of garments from him, it was only a matter of time before the cold got to you. What would you do then? Would you accept that as your appointed guardian he would have little choice but to punish you for your foolishness by holding you in his embrace as a means to warm you back up or would you suffer the chill for the sake of your own stubbornness?

The answer, to Neuvillette’s great surprise, was neither.

If his study was one of the coldest rooms, then outside of the bedrooms, the warmest place in the house was the drawing room. When the winter months came, the drawing room became a place of refuge for you since your keeper advised you that hiding in your bedroom was out of the question. Even if Neuvillette would happily cover you with blankets and furs should you ask, your pride decided you were better not to. You would rather freeze or in this instance, tolerate him being near you for the sake of staying warm. It had been a small victory for him. One that he relished every time he looked at you. From then on, you allowed him to sit in the same room as you, provided he stayed on his side. If he dared to get closer, he earned himself a scowl worthy of shearing the cliffs of Fontaine into the sea below. That’s if you looked at him at all. On the nicer days, your eyes were always fixed on something else, mainly the windows and the world beyond them.

Your present situation is not fair. He’s been made painfully aware of that through his own experiences with you. In general, Neuvillette understands that humans are meant to be free, or free within the limits that the laws of the land allow. The loss of that freedom should those laws be broken was to remind your kind of their place in this world. You, however, had broken no laws. At least none that were on the official books. In the eyes of Fontaine, you had been a model citizen, therefore you should be free. As far as Neuvillette’s own standards and rules were concerned, your behavior had been less than ideal. Hence his need to lock you away.

Neuvillette remembered the day or rather the circumstances that had caused him to clip your wings. He’d had you on schedule for sometime. You weren’t aware of it, but through his own manipulation of your life, you would wake at a certain time, eat at a certain time, work for a specific length, and finally report home at an appointed hour. Before his influence you had run around as you pleased. Your erratic behavior of running to and fro had made watching you from afar impossible. The schedule he slowly imposed upon you fixed all of that. You being at a specific place, at a specific time made things easier for the melusines to keep an eye on you and report in. Everything had been running rather smoothly, and Neuvillette found himself pleased with the outcome. You were where he wanted you, when he wanted you. Things were as low maintenance as they could be, until you decided to throw a wrench into the machine.

He had been stuck at the opera for days, knee deep in an idiotic dispute. It was on that day, that you had decided to deviate from your normal routine. Thinking back on it, had things ended there and you had gotten back on track, nothing would have happened. In Neuvillette’s mind, one day's worth of deviation was tolerable. You took days off from time to time. It wasn’t too hard to pick up your routine on those days. You generally slept later or ate at different times, but there was one constant; you always kept yourself to the city. The melusines could find you without too much trouble. The only real inconvenience was that the daily reports about you were thrown off their schedule. He didn’t particularly care for it, but in this instance, it hadn’t mattered. This time, outside of one fact, the reports about what you ate, where you went, and who you spoke to couldn’t be made at all. How could they, when you had vanished without a trace?

There had been no warning, none of the usual signs that you were tired or stressed or in need of a rest. The day you had vanished started like all the others, the only difference was that it had begun with your bed being empty. The report that you hadn’t gone to work as you should didn’t reach him at the opera. Neither had any of the others regarding your lack of contact. Instead, the reports had been delivered, as instructed, to his office at the Palais Mermonia. Words like vanished, missing, and lost didn’t find him until he returned to the city two days later. At the time, he had believed you had been kidnapped. His own panic that you were missing had dismissed the concept that you had left of your own volition. The idea that you had decided to go away to the mountains for a few days seemed inconceivable to him. You hadn’t slipped your schedule while he had been distracted. You hadn’t taken one of the water taxis out of the city while no one was watching. No, in his own paranoid mind you hadn’t left, you had been kidnapped. Neuvillette had many enemies. Despite his own discretion regarding you, they must have gotten wind of you. That had to have been it. There was no other reason for the fact you hadn’t returned. You had been stolen. The very idea that you had been taken triggered something in him; something ancient, something primal. He needed to find you. He needed to hide you. He needed to protect you. Your part would be to comply with his wishes. Refusal was not an option.

Neuvillette’s search for you was thorough. He scoured the countryside for you, searching above and below the surface for any sign of you or your abductors. No crevice of Fontaine was left untouched. No stone unturned, no ruin not inspected. It took him an additional three days to find you. When he did, the little house that you were staying in seemed anticlimactic. There were no guards nor was there any real fight. Just your utter confusion at the sight of the Chief Justice standing outside your door and Neuvillette’s solemn vow that he would never allow anything like this to happen again.

Even if it meant locking you away, your freedom could stand the sacrifice.

The contempt and rage that followed was something that took Neuvillette completely by surprise. He didn’t believe you possessed such strong emotions, but they were there. All it had taken was the cage door being locked shut to bring them to the surface. All he could do was listen as your cries and protestations lasted for days on end. Initially he had tried to calm you, calm your anger, but it had only made things worse. Stern or soft words didn't make a difference. You just continued to rage at him, so in turn he met you with silence. It wasn’t that he was insensitive to the situation, he knew taking your freedom wasn’t ideal. Where Neuvillette took issue was that he simply didn’t understand your reasons for being upset. The loss of freedom was unfortunate, but was it necessary. The schedule had been designed to keep you out of trouble. His motive in bringing you to his home was to keep you safe. You had deviated from one, so the solution was the other. Could you not see he was trying to help?

Even with his justifications though, it would be a lie to say that he didn’t feel guilty about what he had done. Your safety was of the utmost importance to him, but he desired nothing more than for you to be at peace with his decision. Neuvillette had brought you here for your own good. The world was a dangerous place and you, well you were far from safe in it. Your little disappearing act had shown him how incapable you were without him. That the schedule he had imposed upon you from afar was not enough. You needed a heavier hand to guide you, to keep you, to protect you. He knew you would be happier if you could be free, but that was no longer an option. Maybe that’s why he could never bring himself to be harsh with you. Neuvillette knows that on the surface, he could make your relationship be what he wanted it to be. Should his patience run much thinner, he could take a firm stance with you. He could apply force. It would be nothing for him to attach a leash to the invisible collar he made you wear and keep you at arm's length at all times. You could be bent, you could be broken, and most of all you could be rebuilt how he wanted you to be. Then, his dream for a life with you might be fulfilled. If he remade you how he wanted, you would smile at him like you do other things. He wouldn’t find himself envious of the sun, the music from the phonograph, the books you are permitted to read, and even the birds that play on the other side of the window. You wouldn’t love all of them more than you loved him. He would be worthy of the smile he yearned for. The same smile he adored from afar and the same one that vanished the second you see him. His very soul shattered every time your lips fell into a thin line across your face, never failing to draw that same line across the room and his own heart.

That's what made the dead of night so special.

In the night, after sleep had claimed you, the hard line that you had drawn between you and he vanished. The darkness that consumed the world hid the truth of the entire situation perfectly. In those precious hours, he could pretend that you loved him. He could pretend that you understood his reasoning for his actions towards you. In his own mind, Neuvillette could make you accept that you were something delicate and rare. That you were unable to guard yourself from a world so keen to harm you. That you needed him to help you. He had imagined your gratitude a thousand times over. Decant thoughts of you thanking him for being your savior, of you falling into his arms, of your sweet lips on his, of your soft cries as he plunged his c*ck into you over and over.

It was untoward for him to think of you like that. He shouldn’t really. It was ungentlemanly to do so. But some things couldn’t be helped. When the night washed away the scowl that was reserved solely for him, Neuvillette found it all too easy to let his mind wander. He embraced the privilege of crossing the threshold of your bedroom and pretending that the smile you often wore in your sleep was for him. He could approach you without hesitation then. He could indulge himself in the feeling of your hair in between his fingers as he brushed it away from your face, the warmth of your skin as he ran his hands over the parts of your body that your nightgown or the heavy comforter refused to hide. He could work out his own frustrations by your side, his one hand fervently stroking his c*ck, while the other traced the lines of your thighs.

The entire charade was a ridiculous one. Something that in the cold reality of day he would dismiss as folly and nothing more. Logic, in this case, would always win out. You weren’t grateful to him. There was no way you ever would be. You didn’t understand his reasons for confining you. You would never understand his reasons. How could you? In your short life span, you had been blessed with peace. The world as you knew it hadn’t been torn asunder. You hadn’t witnessed the destruction of all you hold dear. If you had, perhaps you might share his view that you needed to be kept safe. Then, maybe Neuvillette wouldn’t have to reduce himself to being nothing more than a pathetic figure, pining for you in the dark.

Because god how he wanted you, how he needed you, how he loved you. On his worst days, when the burden of the nation was to the point that he felt the weight of it would crush him, he had you. His corner in the drawing room tied him over until the stars climbed high into the sky. Then, in the darkness of your bedroom, with only the moon light to serve as witness, Neuvillette could wrap himself in around you and wash his own worries away with the tears he spilled into your hair. Whispering a silent prayer that when the dawn came, perhaps today would be the day that you would see that he is yours.

#yandere genshin x you #yandere!genshin #yandere genshin #yan genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere neuvillette #neuvillette #genshin neuvillette #genshin impact neuvillette #this was a bit of a struggle #Neuv is a difficult character to grasp #bravo hoyo

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