#it took a long time for him to accustom to the controls at first but now he’s got the hang of it

[awearywritersworld]

she mumbled that i was peculiar

sukuna x reader summary: impressively, sukuna is still trying to find ways to deny his feelings for you. nevertheless, he keeps you safe from harm when a late night trip to the store doesn't go as planned. will seeing his violent nature for yourself change the way you feel about him? he seems to think so. w/c: 4.2k (oops) tags/warnings: angst to fluff. attempted kidnapping. canon typical violence. depictions of blood. reader throws up. reader is in shock for a bit. cursing. aged up!yuuji. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. *please mind the warnings for this chapter* a/n: i'm sorry this took so long! im ngl, i struggled quite a bit to write this chapter. i'm still unsure about the pacing, but here it is anyway. thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy! series masterlist // masterlist

it's not often that you go out for the evening, but tonight is one such occasion. you leave around seven, excited to meet nobara and maki for dinner.

when yuuji falls asleep a few hours later, sukuna doesn't take over right away. he spends a while in his domain, engaging in what some people might call sulking.

before long, however, he begins to feel restless and he tells himself it's because he's grown accustomed to his finite hours of freedom. of course, it has nothing to do with your absence.

so he assumes control of his vessel's body and pulls a short novel from your bookshelf. settling on the couch, his fingertips brush over the cover: the stranger by albert camus

it's the first time he's ever been alone in your apartment, a fact he's well aware of, and his eyes wander to the front door. it'd be all too easy to pull it open, to make his way downstairs and out onto the street.

how long would it last before yuuji regained control? are you nearby? would you get caught up in the havoc he'd doubtlessly wreak?

the thought makes him grimace. returning his focus to the book in his hands, time seems to pass by faster as he makes his way through the pages.

even so, he deems the narrative a bit boring. in his (what's the opposite of humble?) opinion, dead mothers and nagging girlfriends don't make for the most captivating story, so his mind begins to wander once he happens upon the quote:

"so why marry me, then?" she said. i explained to her that it didn't really matter and that if she wanted to, we could get married. besides, she was the one who was doing the asking and all i was saying was yes. then she pointed out that marriage was a serious thing. i said, "no." she stopped talking for a minute and looked at me without saying anything. then she spoke. she just wanted to know if i would have accepted the same proposal from another woman, with whom I was involved in the same way. i said, "sure." then she said she wondered if she loved me, and there was no way i could know about that. after another moment's silence, she mumbled that i was peculiar, that that was probably why she loved me but that one day i might disgust her for the same reason.

sukuna thinks about you— the woman who forced her way into his solitude.

although, what if it hadn't been you? what if the brat had been involved with another woman? would he have eventually taken an interest in her too?

are you really that special, or is he just going crazy inside the cage that is itadori yuuji? the latter is much more likely, right?

he supposes he prefers the idea of madness over... feelings for some human.

all of a sudden, your apartment door seems much more inviting. would it be so bad if he were to step through it? what did he really have to lose?

yeah, that's right. he'll get up any second now and act on every horrible impulse he's been repressing. any second now... any second...

he can't quite figure out why he's unable to bring his limbs to move, weighed down by some force that's beyond him.

it's at that moment the door clicks open and for a split second, he thinks it must be his sign to go, but then you come waltzing in.

"'kuna!" you greet in an excited manner, disrupting the peaceful quiet.

kicking off your shoes haphazardly, you make your way over to him and promptly drop yourself into his lap. it elicits a bout of unwelcome clarity for the king of curses.

no, he wouldn't have taken an interest in just anyone, that much becomes obvious. it wasn't through a medium as flawed as chance that he came to... tolerate you. you're much too annoying for that to be the case.

"hello???" you wave your hand in front of his face. "i'm home."

"i can see that."

"welcome home, darling," you say in a deep voice, a poor imitation of him. "i missed you so much— that's what you're supposed to say."

yeah, definitely too annoying.

"but i didn't miss you." one of his hands comes to rest on your thigh, a betrayal of his preceding assertion.

"you're sitting alone reading—" you pause to inspect the book lying open beside him. "existential fiction about a nihilistic frenchman. of course you missed me."

he changes the topic rather swiftly. "you're drunk."

"i'm tipsy, at best." you roll your eyes. "can't i just be happy to see you?"

"you'd be the first."

"i don't mind making history."

you place a kiss on his lips, casual and affectionate in way that makes sukuna's body stiffen, and stand up.

"i need to get ready for bed, then we're gonna watch tv together because i missed you— gosh, see how easy that was?"

you run off to the bathroom and his body doesn't fully relax until he hears the shower turn on.

the thought of missing someone is a strange notion to him, because it implies eagerness and desire. for as long as he cares to remember, those emotions have been reserved for proclivities much more sinister.

so he hadn't missed you. he just would have preferred it if you stayed home. that's all.

when you return to the living room around fifteen minutes later, you're wearing one of yuuji's shirts, and as far as sukuna can tell, very little otherwise.

making yourself comfortable on the floor between his legs, you pass a hair tie behind you. "can you braid my hair?"

he's watched you get ready for bed enough times that he's fairly certain he can manage it. taking the tie from you, he still asks "why can't you do it?"

"because i'm sleepy," you frown, reaching for the tv remote.

gathering your hair in his hands and carefully dividing it into sections, he sighs. "you require so much looking after."

"you're not going to die if you can't have cookies tonight." sukuna states dryly, glancing at the clock that reads eleven o'clock.

"please don't trivialize my struggle," you begin, pulling on your jacket. "i want miso butter cookies— my grandma's secret recipe."

most of what you need can be found in the kitchen, but a trip to the store is in order for a few final ingredients.

"my mistake," he huffs, rising to his feet. "how insensitive of me."

"oh, it's alright. just don't let it happen again."

"sure. i'll keep that in mind, princess." sliding the apartment door's chain lock off the track, he does little to hide the vexation in his tone.

just as he reaches for the handle, you stop him and wrap a scarf around his neck, forcing a hoodie into his hands. "put this on. you'll be cold."

he looks at you as if you're crazy. "i don't have to worry about things as insignificant as the weather."

"well, put it on anyway," you insist.

he decides that acquiescing will be easier than arguing for the next five minutes and slips the hoodie over head. when you both step out into the chilly air of night, there are still a decent number of people traveling the streets.

stopping at a crosswalk the next block over, you begin to prattle on about what you need to pick up and the different steps in your recipe. naturally, you completely miss it when the pedestrian sign turns green.

"come on," sukuna commands, his hand wrapping around your wrist and tugging you along with him. "i don't have all night."

you scoff. "to be fair, i didn't say you had to come with me."

"yeah well it's late. you shouldn't be out alone." there's a hint of exasperation in his voice, like he truly had no choice in the matter.

despite that, once you reach the other side of the street, his fingers slide down your palm and thread through yours.

you glance over at him and find he's looking off to the side, so you bite your lip to suppress your pleased smile. is he avoiding your gaze intentionally? you decide that bashfulness suits him better than you would have expected.

offering him a light squeeze of the hand, you hope it conveys your appreciation of his small display of affection.

"so, are you going to help me make the cookies?"

his lips press into a thin line. "as thrilling as that seems, i don't particularly have a penchant for baking."

"you think you'd humor me a little! you know, since i'm your only friend and all."

"if anyone else asked me such a ridiculous question, they wouldn't live to see tomorrow." you ponder whether he's joking and quickly decide that he isn't. "this is me humoring you."

"you're so mean to me."

"hardly."

"fine," you pout. "then you can't have any!"

"now, hold on." the threat does make him hesitate. you've come to learn that if there's one thing he loves as much as reading, it's food. "let's not be hasty."

you're approaching the store, the sliding doors just a few strides away.

"it's only fair! besides, you're not going to die if you can't have cookies," you throw his earlier words in his face.

he exhales deeply. "have i ever told you how irritating you are?"

"woah! now you're definitely not getting any, mister!"

"alright, alright," he groans as you step inside. "i'll help you bake your stupid cookies."

"perfect!" you exclaim as if you knew he'd give in eventually (you did). "then you can start by finding the miso paste while i get everything else!"

you scamper off before he can tell you not to order him around like some common servant. he's never even been grocery shopping, how the hell is he supposed to find anything in here?

wandering the aisles, he stews over how domestic this is. for god's sake— the king of curses, shopping for ingredients and making baked goods. what have you reduced him to?

just as he considers giving up, he spots the item he's looking for and grabs it so aggressively that it knocks a few packets of instant miso soup to the floor. wrinkling his nose in distaste for the entire experience, he sets off looking for you, though his efforts are to no avail.

he wonders where the hell you could have gone off to when a flickering light catches his eye, filling him with a strange sort of unease.

it's emanating from a narrow hallway tucked away in the back corner of the store. at the very edge of the hall, a phone with a familiar case is lying on the floor, the screen shattered.

his blood runs cold, a sensation that is fully unknown to him, and the miso paste slips from his fingers. he appears in the hallway the very next second and the sight that greets him ignites a furious hostility in the center of his being— heavy and consuming.

you're struggling against one man as he drags you out of the backdoor and into an alley. another man is holding the door open, urging his partner to hurry up.

the hand over your mouth keeps you from yelling, but you're unsure you would have been able to make a sound regardless.

one second you're cast into darkness, and the next, the light seems blinding. the flashing is unceasing and it makes your head hurt.

two limbs are wrapped around your torso, keeping you firmly in place, and your arms are trapped at your sides. you might be kicking your legs, but they may just be dragging along too. you really can't be sure.

there's a thrum of a heartbeat at your back. it's pace is unforgiving, the intensity mirroring that of your own. you've a vague concern that your heart may very well beat right out of your chest.

then there's an abrupt shift in the air and a sickening crack echoes through out the night. crumpling onto the concrete, you think it must have started raining before you realize that the droplets on your face are warm.

you wipe at your cheek and your fingers stain crimson, the color matching that of an increasingly large puddle seeping across the pavement beside you.

there's a heap lying a few feet away and you recognize that it's wearing clothes. it's a sight you struggle to make sense of.

needing to focus on something else, your eyes find sukuna and the expression he's wearing is fierce and unreserved. "tell me what you wanted with her."

you've never heard him speak in such a way. his tone is low, his cadence nothing short of threatening.

"s-s'kuna?" your own voice sounds foreign to you and it goes unheard by him.

he has your attacker pressed against the brick wall of the alley, both hands wrapped around his throat. he's too livid to realize the pressure on his windpipe is preventing him from answering.

sukuna throws him to the other side of the alleyway out of frustration, the man rolling onto his back and wheezing to appease his lungs.

"tell me!" sukuna commands again, louder this time. less collected.

the man scrambles away from his looming figure. "th-they sent us, told us they needed her for an important matter."

"who?"

"they'll kill me if i tell you—"

sukuna crouches down, laughing dryly. "and what do you suppose i'm going to do?"

his eyes are almost unrecognizable to you. they're frenzied— a few shades deeper than the scarlet you've grown so fond of.

"you'll k-kill me either way, so at least i'll die with honor—"

"tch. useless." sukuna waves his hand, and you can hardly comprehend what happens right in front of you.

neat red lines appear across the man's body, then it ruptures into nothing at all. the only evidence that he was ever there in the first place is his blood.

the stench of which is perhaps the worst part— intense, coppery, and hot. it makes your eyes water, and before you know it, you're hunched over and emptying the contents of your stomach onto the ground.

sukuna is at your side in an instant, pulling your hair away from your face, but while one of your hands is braced against the concrete, the other endeavors to push him away.

his body doesn't budge at the contact, but he takes a step back anyway in an attempt to respect your wishes.

your mind is a mess filled with racing thoughts— what the fuck? this cannot be happening. what the hell even happened in this first place? that man was there and then he wasn't.

inhaling sharply, you wipe at your mouth and shift to pull your knees to your chest.

"what..." you trail off, surveying the unutterable, incomprehensible scene before you. "what did you do?"

he doesn't respond, though his features noticeably soften. somewhere in the back of your mind, you know very well what he did, but you can't help repeating. "what did you do?"

"we need to leave." it's not that sukuna couldn't handle whoever might show up, but seeing as this is your reaction, he has no desire to. "if you let me touch you, i can take us home."

you take a moment to think about it, then nod wordlessly. as soon as his hand falls on your shoulder, you're met with that same sensation you felt the night gojo teleported you and yuuji home after one too many drinks.

though this time, the sick feeling in your stomach isn't caused by liquor. you don't stand up, you don't so much as move a muscle when you feel the surface beneath you shift from concrete to carpet.

sukuna breathes out your name, his uncertainty evidenced by the way he's shoved his hands into his pockets. meeting his eye, you reiterate the same inquiry once more. "what did you do?"

it's almost as if you want him to tell you that he didn't do anything. that the whole experience was some disturbing nightmare.

"those men would have hurt you."

"that doesn't mean they deserved to die." you choke on the final word.

"yes— it does."

with that, silence hangs in the air like a suffocating miasma.

looking to your hands, you're reminded of the blood you've been spattered with. "i need to wash up."

you still don't move from your spot, too fixated on your flesh and the dreadful hue that it's been painted with. sukuna notices now that you're trembling.

he approaches you hesitantly before extending his hand. "let me help you."

you decline his offer, shying away from him. "i think you've done enough already."

god, the look in your eye is utterly despondent. he struggles to swallow the lump that forms in his throat.

his arm falls limply to his side and he looks across the room, your copy of the stranger earning his attention.

he's overcome with chagrin when he realizes that his concern brought about by camus' quote the other night was wholly misguided. he'd been focused on his own feelings, whether they were genuine or simply wrought by his isolation.

how foolish was he to ever question what you truly mean to him? with the anguish that's settled in his chest at the sight of your current state, the fact he ever doubted it makes him feel like a hopeless idiot.

had he any sense at all, the part that resonated with him would have been—

she mumbled that i was peculiar, that that was probably why she loved me but that one day i might disgust her for the same reason.

disgust. is that what you're feeling now? he's certain it is.

it was just last week that he relayed the story of his past. you're the only person alive to know the truth of how his wickedness came to be, and you met him with unconditional sympathy and understanding.

you pulled him close and embraced him, but now that you've seen him for what he truly is...? you can barely stand to touch him and it's like a knife to his heart.

you're so fucking warm— like the sun against his skin after weeks of endless rain.

and if you're the sun, surely he is the moon— cold and barren on his own, but brilliant when in the presence of your light.

to be without that? to be without you? it's a prospect too terrible for him to bear. it makes his stomach twist miserably.

you're startled (as is he) when his form falls to the floor, his knees meeting the carpet with a dull thud. he calls out your name again, but this time, his voice cracks as he speaks. "please."

he doesn't have a clue what he's even asking for. a chance to explain? forgiveness? a way to turn back time?

you don't say anything, but you do shift your gaze to him. he knows that he needs to fix this, so he wracks his mind for the right words.

"i didn't enjoy killing those men." he's somewhat surprised to find he's telling the truth.

"you didn't?" your voice is so small and timid that he can hardly decipher your words.

"no. my only concern was to keep you safe— to make sure they never put their hands on you ever again. all i felt was rage and... and... guilt. i should have never left you alone and it's my fault—"

"stop," you interrupt him.

there are tears welling in your eyes, making it difficult for sukuna to breathe. he's positive you're going to tell him that his intentions were of little consequence and that you never want to see him ever again.

instead, you push yourself forward and collapse against his body, your own wracked with violent sobs. the reality of the situation is only just now hitting you. it'd been much easier to focus on what sukuna had done, rather than what almost happened to you.

"i was so scared, 'kuna."

and still, despite the way you're clinging to his shirt and burying your face in chest, he's under the impression that it's him you were afraid of.

"i'm sorry," he tells you earnestly. "i never meant to frighten you."

"n-not of you. those men." you're struggling to speak in between desperate gasps. "why did they do that? what did they want with me?"

"i don't know." though, he is going to find out.

sukuna is not a man well versed in comfort, so he's not entirely sure why he begins rocking you back and forth, but he does it anyway.

when you finally start to breathe a little easier, he mumbles into your hair, "come on. let's get you cleaned up."

he doesn't give you a chance to respond before he scoops you up in his arms and carries you to the bathroom. setting you down on the counter gently, he searches the linen closet for a cloth.

it's quiet, save for your intermittent sniffling, as he runs it under warm water and wrings it out. his free hand moves to rest against the side of your neck and he dabs at the blood on your face, rinsing the washcloth every now and then.

he tries his best not to show it, but sukuna is agonizing over what might be going through your mind.

do you still feel safe with him? have your feelings changed? do you still love him, even when you've been so harshly reminded what he's capable of?

when you speak for the first time your words are hoarse, barely above a whisper. "thank you for saving me, sukuna."

he thinks about telling you not to thank him, not when it shouldn't have happened in the first place. he left your side, an error in judgement he'll never forgive himself for.

he considers your mortality— your weakness— in relation to his feelings for you. he's always seen this exceptionally human quality as despicable.

but now? all it does is terrify him.

"in the past, i was only concerned with my own whims and desires." his hand moves to cradle your face, his thumb running over your cheekbone. "though after tonight... you have to know..."

it's clear that he's struggling. his eyebrows draw together and his mouth twitches as he ponders his next words.

"i care about you, angel." his voice is hushed when he adds, "very much."

your eyes widen briefly and you murmur his name, but your mind is still reeling from the events of the past twenty minutes and you can't think of anything more to say. you're emotionally exhausted in a way you would have never thought possible.

it's plain to him too, so he knows his next question is selfish, but he can't go on without knowing. "does what you saw tonight change things between us?"

the silence preceding your answer seems to stretch on forever.

"i thought it would," you confess eventually. it was as if you'd put up a wall in your mind separating sukuna the king of curses from sukuna the man you spend your evenings with.

and it's difficult to reconcile the fact that the hands you saw used to murder two men are the same hands that are caressing your face so delicately.

at some point, however, you realized that the only time you felt fear tonight was when you were without him. his arrival and ensuing actions inspired shock and apprehension, though in some twisted way, you knew it meant you were safe. "but it doesn't."

the next question tumbles from your lips thoughtlessly. "does that make me a bad person?"

he chuckles and some of the tension in the room dissipates. "i think i'm the last one on earth that can pass moral judgement on you."

he tucks your hair behind your ear and scans your face, relief coursing through his body when he sees you smile. in this moment, there isn't anything else in the world he would have asked for.

"i guess you're right."

and now, the hand over your mouth is your own, an attempt to stifle your tired giggles. the light of the bathroom is warm and steady. sukuna's hands rest atop your hips, his touch firm but comforting. while you can't feel your own heartbeat, you're positive it must be beating in time with his.

when you crawl into bed that night sukuna pulls you close, your back pressed to his bare chest. you're thankful for the softness of his demeanor, because you need it tonight more than ever.

he doesn't recede to his domain until yuuji wakes up the following morning. he's determined to keep an eye on you as you sleep, to watch the slow rise and fall of your chest with newfound gratitude.

he knows he needs to speak with the brat about what happened. someone is after you and while he hates to admit it, he knows he can't ensure your safety alone.

and he will keep you safe, no matter the cost.

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[iznsfw]

Manic Robotic Dream Girl

IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 4 - Choi Yena

IZ*ONE's Choi Yena x Male Reader Smut

8,311 words

Neon lights dance like flames around you. There’s no need to touch them when you’re already burning. Burning with something that’s not a fever but a kind of pain that never goes away. 

Sweat pricks the sides of your face and you’re aware of the blots of perspiration running down your jawline. Nights at the Rogue are often hot, but then they surprise you with a sudden burst of windiness, so you never bother to take your coat off. Whatever and wherever, you’ll always be here yet you’ve not once been able to predict the temperature.

That’s what happened when WAKE12 took over. 

Apparently, they decide if people are under the weather by controlling it by them-fucking-selves. Kwon feeling shitty? Looks like rain then. Maybe she’s feeling happy? Alright, let the clouds find balance. Angry? Take a fucking hailstorm. What a privilege, one bigger than the lives of the rich men in the North. But everyone forgets about that fact after she sends out minimal alms—canned goods, a Bible, something. Then it’s back to President Kwon is the best! President Kwon can never fail us! President—

“Vodka.”

“Same as yesterday?” asks Yuri, smiling a little bit. 

“Same as yesterday.” For a hologram, Yuri can be quite the social butterfly. 

Online wallets are all the rage nowadays. The AI voice in your head offers you said option to pay, and you can hear your balance privately spoken. Somehow your brow prevents from creasing as you hear it. You lack funds but somehow have a few extra bucks to drink. 

Choose that. You want to save your Wizes for other things. Lock eyes with Yuri and your balance goes down. You’ve paid. 

Online and digital wallets modified with embedded signals and readers were in use before you were even born. Of course, there were already such payment options in the twenty-first century, but how WAKE12 changed everything, not just ordering options with telepathic payment, can easily be read in a sixth grade history textbook. 

In October of the year 2918, Kwon Eunbi rose in the ranks as a scientist and soldier for Kang Hyewon, former president, and ended up working her way into dictatorship. The textbooks and classrooms teach that she proposed a law to the court and got herself a position for her wit and intelligence. But early first accounts challenge that, saying that she caught the eye of Kang and had a sexual relationship with her. WAKE12 branded this as propaganda that sullies the name of not only the dictator but the one of the late president, who died mysteriously before Kwon rose to power.

Massive backstory for cashless payment, but you know there’s more to it than the government would like to let on. What happened to Kang? What made Kwon so evil the moment she sat in her presidential throne?

“Thank you, sir.” Holograms all have different voices; Yuri’s sounds like she’s singing. At least the bartender slash boss hired her instead of those with monotone, emotionless ones. It’s cheaper to have hologram workers than humans anyway. Less money, less emotional labor, less of feeling like a normal person.

A beggar curled up below the counter holds his hand out. Not an uncommon sight in the Auster, but it’s a pity to see. The world has advanced with its telepathic wallets and 3D holograms yet there will always be individuals who haven’t caught up with time. While the North Rogue leads worldly lifetimes, the Auster is a home for the rejects. The poorest of the poor. The somewhere-in-the-middles. It can never be truly a perfect world if advancement doesn’t include everyone.

Give him a Wize. Back then, that would have been worth a hundred or so dollars, a currency long gone. Not that you’d know of it; WAKE12 claimed leadership way before you were born so the cheap value of the coin studded with the bust of Kwon Eunbi is all you’re accustomed to. 

Take your drink and thank Yuri. 

The cobblestone is rough beneath your feet. You take your seat at your usual table. Float your fingers around your shotglass. Pour the contents down your chapped mouth almost all in one go. Anything to feel something. Anything to feel anything. 

You’re not an alcoholic by any means, though that’s certainly up for debate. But there’s a need for the liquid that rages more than the need for oxygen (the fucking shortage of it) or food (the fucking expense of it). How else could you be less numb? You’re welcome to every feeling at this stage, just not this empty neutrality that slumbers your senses.

Pain? Your throat seizes up when you drink and brings tears to your eyes, so there's that. 

Happiness? Hm, none. You’re barely smiling. You’ve no family, little friends, and no partner for the last few years. There’s nothing to be happy about.

Anger? The displays of people fined harshly for their crimes on the big as life advertising screens stir some defiance in you. WAKE12 doesn’t take kindly to hacktivists and young coders dabbling in creating their own AIs. You have your own anti-government opinions, but what’s a human mind against an artificial one? Plus, and probably a less serious reason (tell that to the thousands who flock to the hospitals because of asthma), the air is almost always polluted here in the Rogue. It’s dirtied by car smoke and factory remains. You’d think that robots taking over the labs would improve it. Perhaps they weren’t programmed that way. 

Loneliness?

You look around. See the glitching phantoms of new world technology make the drinks breezily. Watch the light-studded train filled with commuters from the Auster. Kwon Eunbi managed to build an underside track for additional trains to run and still the commuters—young students, old grandparents, not young but not old workers whose jobs belong to WAKE12—wear the same tired look you saw yesterday. All you could hear are buzzes and uncanny valley voices from holograms.

The second chair paired with your table is empty. You’re suddenly lucid to the fact that it’ll always be like this. These nights of drinking and walking in the Auster Rogue will be endless, and just the same, you’ll be endlessly alone.

Sometimes mortality could be so depressing.

So depressing that it makes it all so meaningless.

A man stumbles over to the outside bar, breaking your thoughtless reverie. His clothes are as black as the night you spend but you can see blood on the fabric. The skyscrapers provide enough light for you to see his red face from anxious internal and worrying external blood. The pleading look grips his expression like a malfunctioning robot’s limb. 

He’s looking back as if afraid of what might be there. The rain-soaked road is tread on roughly by his shaking knees as he crawls his way to the bar. “Please, help me!”

“Warning,” comes the voice in your head, and you know the other visitors hear it, too, “a criminal of the state is in your proximity. Proceed with caution.”

WAKE12 always keeps an eye on those who threaten them. They have goons everywhere. The kindly grandfather down the street could be a veteran waiting for the chance of a medal. They have ears everywhere as well. Undercover cops stay in both crowded and clear spaces to identify possible threats. When it all comes down to it, you’re not safe in your own head at all. The implants can detect when you dream up something terrible. That’s how millions lose their reputation. Their jobs. Their families.

Their lives.

He staggers to the counter, crashing glass that shards his palms, and lets out this wail you’d hear from an abused pup. “Please,” he croaks. “Don’t listen to them. I just need somewhere to hide. I did nothing wrong, nothing!”

The implanted voice in your brain says otherwise. Everyone was given one when the Cyber Age came. That’s what makes a tiny difference in seeing who’s human and who’s not: the tiny, diamond scar below their hairline from the operation. Close inspection can’t always be done, however. Nowadays, too many of these robots and holograms pass the Turing test. You can never truly trust someone.

“Offenses include: playing the role of an accomplice in theft of government data, distribution of terrorist propaganda—”

“Get the fuck out!” says the bartender, having burst out from the back. As a longtime visitor, you haven’t seen him this angry, but you know it stems from fear. No one wants to associate with a criminal. No one wants the association to lead to arrest and the arrest lead to god knows what. Hundreds of people go missing after they’re taken under custody. What Kwon does to them, you don’t know. “Leave or I’ll call the cops!”

Like you said, they lurk everywhere. You’re surprised they haven’t caught up to him.

The bloodied man shakes his head, like please, please, someone believe me. “No, I’m not a criminal! Listen to me, please, I don’t have enough time! They just wanna—cut down” 

Rapid footsteps. Sigh and put your glass down. There they are.

The man reaches for him, but the bartender shoves the whole table into his face. He falls back on the ground and cries out for help that never comes. Men and women wearing tight black uniforms and vests pull him up. Their lit helmets that opposingly disallow a view of their faces make them look emotionless. Like robots.

Huh.

While resting your head against the metal chair, you listen to the struggling shuffles of the police and criminal, and see the glitching robots walking down the road. No real emotion, no real living.

He scratches and screams and sobs, but that doesn’t matter to them. They pull him along the rocky cement and recite his nonexistent rights to him. There’s the right to remain silent (he’s screaming), the right to an attorney (nobody in the Auster can afford a good lawyer much less an honest one), and the right to live freely if found innocent of the crime (someone getting convicted happens more often than being released).

Besides, it can’t be called living when it’s in a place so completely devoid of any humanity.

“In more ways than one,” you say. Fuck it, you’ll drink to that.

-

Like always, you take more than you should. You believe by now you’ve built some kind of immunity. That’s what they all think, you remind yourself, before an inevitable death that buries them in the ground one bricked shot at a time. You swear you’re not dizzy at all or feeling the acid build to your throat, so the sight gathering just a little away from you is real. 

Stare at your glass. Space out if not for what you see: behind it, a shapely form of a woman in purple. The blue and violet lights make it difficult for you to distinguish it from her clothes so she actually looks naked. That shocks you more than the arrest. You’re sure she’s got a little modesty in her because why else is she making her way to a table?

Your table?

It’s like she teleported when she’s suddenly seated before you, filling the chair that’s been empty for the last more or so years. You don’t even get the chance to look up at the right time, but the moment you do, you think keeping your eyes on your glass would’ve been better for the sake of your heart.

YENA.

Her name appears in your mind and she hasn’t even introduced herself. But it’s right there, emblazoned in lights in all capitalized four letters: YENA. This girl is Yena. And this girl—this fucking guilty pleasure of a girl—is gorgeous.

The ends of her hair are tinged with blonde, and it’s hard not to give attention to that with how her locks are gathered into twin tails. She smoothes them before looking at you quite seriously, like she’s about to propose a challenge you’d lose.

Blue shining eyes. There’s something odd about the way they twinkle below her bangs—almost like something not human. 

Yena dances her fingers around her jawline, elbow resting on the table, and tilts her pretty face. Lets her fingers play with her lips that are made for things the Auster’s known for providing (she can’t be from here though; those crocheted coordinates look costly). That’s how you notice that fine feature. Naturally thick and casually jutted out in a distinctive pout, your eyes are glued to them. Can’t take your prolonged stare away if someone helped you. 

“Are you waiting for me to start talking?” Yena asks. She’s not angry, just amused—her voice is smooth and clear, with a tiny pitch that makes her all the more cute. 

You shake your head. “Was just trying to figure something out.” 

“And that is?”

“A lot of things,” you state. Things you’d keep a secret forever, lest you spill them out to a girl all for the payment of being beautiful. “But I’m not sure pretty girls like you would want to know.”

You try to keep your curious peering at her normal, but it’s difficult when she just attracts attention. She’s a glowing lightbulb in a flutter of moths. Yena doesn’t flicker weakly; she shines, and it’s honestly why everyone else is “subtly” looking at her, this gorgeous stranger who came in and somehow chose the alcoholic who came from places more rock bottom than the Auster.

She laughs. It’s sobering—you think you’ll get drunk on her rather than the cheap alcohol. “Is that what you think of me? Too beautiful to think too much?” 

Look her up and down. Yeah, you want to say, that’s about it. It’s not out of offense but rather the instinct in you that wants to tell her you don’t want to put her in a worried state. She’s too… ah, she doesn’t know what you’d do for a girl like her—someone too unreal to be human but too genuine to be the “living” dolls lonely men purchase. Someone who can keep a conversation going without fearing a low blow. Someone who’s out of your league in the Rogue’s mixed pool but chooses you anyway.

“I’m just saying you might not want to hear a stranger boring you with his hard problems.”

“Oh please,” she says, waving it off with a flick of a pointed wrist. “You know my name. I know yours. We’re not strangers anymore.”

How did you—how did she—

Her eyes twinkle again. They’re… violet? You could have bet they were blue. But then you see the suspiciously smooth and clear skin, with the perfect lines of her eyelids, which curve as if manufactured in. She’s definitely not human. 

“Besides,” adds Yena sweetly, “you’re really underestimating how good I can take certain hard things.”

Swallow. You opened the door, now you’re locked in. 

Yena catches the bob of your Adam’s apple and smirks. Traces her fingers over yours. She can’t be human for sure yet you feel the softness of her hand, the only thing giving you doubt being how chilled her touch is. It's humid here, so where did that come from? Goosebumps pop up in masses across your skin—note how nothing shows up on hers.

Maybe she’s just a confident woman.

“Come on, I dare you.” 

“Only if you go first.” 

“Yes, sir,” she says. A cutesy saluted hand positions itself before her temple. Her hands are tiny, could be dainty, while her cheeks lift to support an adorable smile. 

Your knees tremble. You don’t know where that came from either. Yena just knows what to say to get to a guy. Almost like she was made for it. There’s that question again, resurfacing in your altered brain: is she human or not?

You lean back. Cross your arms. Here you go, on your way to find out. “What’s your story?” 

Yena shrugs, her shoulders bare and smooth. And you’re thinking of how you’d like to see the rest of them, the rest of her body naked by pulling down the crocheted strap of the purple coordinates. How you’d like to touch those puffed up cheeks and not care if they’re real or not when you pull her close to kiss her. How those lips—

“Don’t have one.”

“Sorry?”

She laughs. Even the way she giggles is attractive.  “No, seriously,” she replies, licking her lips. “There’s nothing interesting about me. I’m the most normal girl there is.”

There is nothing normal about her. Everything she says is too prepared. The largeness of her eyes gives everything away. Her hair is combed too finely that you’re not unconvinced that it isn't human hair at all, though you can see them connect at the roots. It’s like someone drew a cute animated girl on a notepad one lonely night, sent the idea to a rich bastard, and brought her to life.

So no, you’re not buying it.

“So you’re saying you’re just a blank canvas.”

“If you put it like that, I guess.” Yena rolls her eyes. You’re a bit obsessed. “Guys want that, right? A blank piece of a girl they could shoot more than a shot at? Maybe paint her white?”

You’re thankful you didn’t continue drinking. Otherwise, your surprise would be visible and audible with the lodge of your throat as you wineboard yourself.

The side of her mouth raises. A soft dimple exceeding cuteness—it’s deeper, brighter, shinier. You imagine her as a college student, charming boys into submission just with a wink and a smile that can melt hearts and bring guilt to lust-addled minds. 

That’s what she’s doing: Yena is melting you because of how adorable she is, but then you take a look at her body, note the fine curves it boasts, and feel the need to go to a confessional pastor. You’re not supposed to repeats in your mind, but you’re you—if you aren’t supposed to do it, then of course you’ll do it anyway.

“Woah,” you say with a nervous laugh. “Woah.”

“Look.” She rests her forearm on the table and talks so casually one would think she weren’t just talking about getting cumshots. “I‘m not taking that back, so do with that what you will.”

Under the table, behind the scenes, her leg is curled around one of yours. Her ankle glides along your skin teasingly. Not a speck of hair on all of those flawless legs, but you’re shivering anyway from the contact. Hence, make a show of closing your coat around yourself. You can’t fool her when it’s not even chilly.

Recover, piecing together the brokenness of your confidence she tore apart.

“My story is, uh, weird.”

“Tell me.”

“This might be too personal but—” You lift your shoulders awkwardly. “I used to date a girl who looks exactly like you.”

Kim Chaewon—short auburn hair, soft cheeks, and a tiny figure. She’s a memory you didn’t think of returning to today, but then Yena came here, and now you’re back to your youth.

“She was a cop. Cutest officer I’ve ever seen, but a real bitch, for the lack of a better word. Then she left me.”

“You broke her heart, didn’t you?” 

Sputter. “No!” you immediately deny, shaking your head. “I—I didn’t hurt her, she was—”

A filthy lie. You became nonchalant, undeserving of a sweet woman who’d do anything for you, even give up her well-paying job. Again and again, Chaewon expressed her concerns: why were you talking to Minju? Where have you been? Why are you so mean? You disregarded them all the same. She deserved the ignorance; she was too fucking controlling, too fucking jealous.

Yena knows you’re lying. It’s like you’re a wound she can peel back to see all the ugliness, all the damage underneath. Her smile tells you everything.

“Oh, come on. I don’t care. Except for this.” Yena intertwines her fingers. Rests her chin on top of the formed platform. “Was she a good fuck?”

Your laugh is forced, trying to make a good deal out of this situation. A girl is flirting with you right after you saw someone disappear. Now you’re wondering if she’s a robot. Now, through some way, she knows you’re lying about your ex. Coincidences meet yet you refuse to connect them—parallel lines they shall stay, forever. 

“Yena, what exactly is up with you?” you ask. “You just met me. And come on now, why me?”

It’s begun to be hotter in this space. Loosen your coat. Perspiration isn’t because of the atmosphere, so you find out (and what a surprise). It’s because of the woman across you, a midnight sun. If the painful sun was actually a symbol of good in the Rogue, Yena would play its role perfectly. She’d scorch through you and you’ll enjoy every second. Yeah, you’d get all sorts of tans and burns and cancers if you bask in her without protection, but my god, are you willing to take the risk.

“I just don’t like seeing pretty boys have problems,” she replies easily. “If they want, (and I know they do), I’ll take them all away. Soon, all you'll think of is me. Like I’m the sun peeking in your room and you just can’t get enough sleep because of it.”

You tense up. Millions of questions, a void empty of answers. Once again, how was she so spot on? You’re not breathing quite well, and your clothes are tighter tonight. “Yena, look, I-I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Don’t be, not because you aren't, but because she said so.

She pouts. “You’re not gonna buy me a drink?”

“You sound disappointed.”

“Nope. Remember what I said? I’m a blank canvas. So do whatever you want with me. Buy me a drink. Or not. Tell me to fuck off. Or not. Force me on my knees.”

Yena kneels.

There’s no mantle on the table to cover up what she’s about to do. You gasp, then try to mask it as a poor cough, but you’re distracted by how she pulls your pants down effortlessly. The button sealing your coat is busted open and gone.

So is your dignity.

Yena’s tongue sticks out at the side of her mouth as she looks up at you with excitement and mischief in her eyes. 

“Or let me do the job. I’m a big girl after all.”

She seals her teeth around your zipper and tugs down. It’s embarrassing how hard you are for her. But Yena doesn’t care. Adoration is clear on her face as she stares at your shaft, the worshipful energy in her eyes so overwhelming that she has to do something about it.

“Yena—” What a way to go out: screaming a stranger’s name.

You knew those lips were up to no good the moment you saw them. She’s provided evidence, too. Her soft lips embrace your boner and suckle fervently while dragging themselves upwards. It’s a caress that tenses you up rather than comforts you. It works you up, tying you down with the little weight Yena has. You could kick her away right now and tell her to go away. File a case against her. 

You don’t.

The joined duo of careful teeth and wild tongue gets you whimpering. Shivering. Begging. How is she so good at this?

Her mouth is perfectly wet. It’s not copiously soaked to have you cringing but the perfect balance of wet and ready, coating your rod again and again. She gives you too much and just right. It would be a cruel violation if you were asked to choose one and only one.

“Baby, what the fuck—” you stammer. 

Her throat’s an expert in taking you because one push of her lips to your base welcomes you in its tight hole. Your knees shake; Yena places her hands on it, not to stop their trembles but for leverage during the dip of her head. 

Close your eyes, look up, and stare at skies that provide no reprieving stars. Think of how she’s infinitely bett—

“Better than any pussy, huh?” Yena asks. The third time is no coincidence, so you’ve heard. “And it’s just my throat.”

At this stage, you don’t care if she’s a robot or not, because either way, that mouth is a fucking treasure.

You lift your hips and start slowly working yourself in Yena’s face. Her lips pucker and pout to allow you inside with pleasurable friction. Those eyes—there aren’t any planets in the sky because of the pollution but you think you can see their sparkle in them. 

The amazing part is that Yena doesn’t choke. She endlessly takes you in, receiving every inch like a blessed gift, but you don’t hear her wheeze. No sounds of complaints escape her. You have a feeling it’s not because of your cock sliding in and out of it. She only gags on occasion, and those already sound fake. It’s like she’s doing it just so you can get worked up hearing her moans.

While others might be impressed, you’re dumbfounded. She tightens and loosens and pushes and pulls just for your pleasure. 

“Yena, I– you’re doing so good,” you compliment her in gasped breaths.

Her cheeks hollow. The suction strengthens and it now feels like your soul’s being swallowed down her neck. She knows how to tease you with light pandering from her teeth, generous licking, and strengthened swallowing. Her mouth is warm but you are more so. She’s making you feel hot in all these layers, an additional one played by her perfect lips.

Perfect hair, too, you note.

Hungry impulses take over your body and now you’re pumping your core into the girl’s face with the help of her pigtails. Yena’s hair is thick and silky, and it’s another enjoyable factor: feeling how it slips between your fingers and how each pull directs her lips to press firmly to your crotch.

She doesn’t gag with that either. She must have had a lot of experience; she did say she can take hard things fine. That is, if she were human. If not, whoever built her had dirty ideas: the lack of gag reflex surely brings in the five star ratings.

Bright star-like eyes, cute ruinable face, mouth that can take the largest.

Yep, perfect.

“Good—fucking—girl.”

Your cock weeps white. Yena feels the first drop and immediately pulls away. She pumps your shaft with a strong, urgent fist. As she hinted, you blast all over her face. Your orgasm grips you and shakes you like never before, and of course, the little brat enjoys it. She’s nearly laughing.

“There,” says Yena after she drains you. Her duck-like lips are sticky with cum. “Canvas painted.”

What a pretty painting you’ve made. Here, shown to the public, is the manic pixie dream girl, semen on her chin to symbolize how each word she utters has you climaxing; hair disheveled to show your subtle but messy rule over her, because you own her although you weren’t there when her mechanical limbs were assembled and her face drawn; and a smile on her face to show that despite all this: she likes it.

You laugh, short blunt breaths wisping in the air. “There really is something wrong with you, Yena,” you say.

She’s a girl who’s extremely pretty, good at blowjobs, and likes public sex and oral. She can also read minds. Oh, and she might not be real. 

“You could say that again.” She wipes her mouth. “Though I do think I could use a little fixing from you.”

-

You take her home. Your mother would have been disappointed in you if she knew you violated the first law you were ever taught: don’t talk to strangers. Most of all, don’t ever let them in. But Yena is no stranger—like she said, she knows your name and for some reason, you know her own. You’re not strangers. And your mother isn’t around to command you not to kneel for a pretty girl.

This home of yours isn’t fancy, but if people from 2024 saw it, they’d be mesmerized. You’re not rich enough to afford the penthouses the North offers; this one is alright for you. The stories of the building aren’t aligned with each other, separating a few yards with floating floors that defy gravity. That’s right; WAKE12 somehow found a way to disobey the rules of physics. The ends are lit up with bright lights that blind you from miles away. Wide windows encircle the areas along with al frescos and convenient malls. Back then, this would have been classified as the house of the wealthy—you can’t say you agree with the sentiment when you’re not at all rich.

“Hi,” says Yena brightly at the front desk. She’s so smiley, always grinning like she’s just told a really clever joke. “Where’s the elevator?”

“I, uh…” 

The manager looks at her oddly. Your ears redden; she still hasn’t cleaned her face up. Evidence of your deed lies there on her nose and chin and cheeks, even in her perfect hair. 

“Well?”

The manager lifts the phone immediately. Before he could dial a number, Yena sighs loudly. 

“Look.” She silences the telephone with a slam of the device down on the keypad. The man’s hand cringes. “I’m about to fuck this guy’s brains out and I promise your little backup bosses can’t do anything about it.”

He stares at her. 

“I’m gonna use his dick until it’s limp as a balloon, then ride him in bed, then bend over on the kitchen table so he could breed me like a common whore.”

You lift an index finger to apologize, but put it back down. Did she just say you can breed her?

His jaw tenses. The teeth behind those unsmiling thin lips grit, not in annoyance but in fear. Yena’s bouncy and sweet, but apparently she’s excluding people who cockblock from her cute attitude.

“So,” finishes Yena, lowering her gaze, “where is the fucking elevator?”

The elevator has no pulley or doors. It sits at the side of the uneven floors and rises with nothing but a sizable pod. You’ve had to watch your weight to be able to enjoy the freedom from staircases. 

Yena steps on it with no worry. As you look at her, you realize how positively tiny she is. That’s why she isn’t doubtful about fitting in the claustrophobic space. Her violet clothes can slip off at any time at her pull of a waist and slim thighs. All the fullness goes to her cheeks, painted with fake tattooed stars and minimal doodles. 

She’s the kind of girl you could just pick up and do whatever to. You’re the kind of guy who really, really likes the idea.

Holding your hand is a thing of the past. Yena clutches your cock over your jeans as the elevator lifts the two of you up. 

The first thing she does the moment you enter your home is not kiss you, or slam you to the door, or whisper dirty nothings in the hollow of your ear. Yena looks around and says, simply, “Doable.”

You chuckle. You’re not offended. It’s a tidy, minimal apartment with glass that spans a viewing pleasure of the artificial forest and the hills. Glass lost its value but skyrocketed in purchases when Jo Yuri, first activist recorded in the history of WAKE12’s domination, was imprisoned. People compared her name to glass (yuri was 유리 and 유리 meant glass) and since then, it has been used everywhere. High demand, low price. Her symbol and namesake is used the way the public wants her to be used: cheap thing convenient only to the eye. They always said she was too pretty to talk too much.

“Here, doable is the best compliment,” you reply. You go to your bedroom to clean the place. If you want to fuck a rich girl, make sure the bedroom is at least up to her standards. “You have personal maids there in the North?”

Yena continues looking around. She’s mildly fascinated by everything, especially in the big window placed on the ceiling that lets stars peer down at you. For some reason, all the ejaculation on her face is gone. You don’t remember her bringing a washcloth.

“I’m not from the North, you know.”

“You’re not?”

“Nope. I don’t come from anywhere.”

You come out, having cleared your bed from clothes and the floors of trash. You fed the trash to the connected chute that all apartments have, which leads down to the Southern Auster. The word may be Latin and is already defined as south, but there’s places poorer than the part you live in. You’re lucky to be here. The Southern Auster’s where it’s much more dangerous. The people there scavenge for food and money, and their cries go unheard in the night. It’s the biggest criminal capital of the Rogue.

You come out and Yena’s sitting on the kitchen table with a knife.

Stop in your tracks. 

See the blood running down her arm. 

“Oh, don’t worry,” she says dismissively. “It doesn’t hurt.”

You still don’t know what to say. The wound on her skin’s dissolved to a scar that looks more like a scratch on metal. Why would she do that? Why would that do that?

“In fact, I think it’s kind of cool.” Yena slides the blade on the strap of her top. It falls apart, right down to her braless chest. A pink, perky nipple is clear in the moonlight shining from above. “When people see me, they usually want to hurt me, so I might as well do it myself, right? They want to slap me, pull my hair, choke me. They say that and figure I’m totally flattered.”

You want to say that you couldn’t blame them. Yena’s got this innocent but naughty aura about her that you want to completely ruin. There’s her hair, all dolled up and her quirky makeup that brings attention that eventually switches down to the body she doesn’t bother hiding. 

But it looks like she’s doing the ruining. Aren’t those the best stories? Boy corrupts girl when it’s the other way around in reality? 

To use the word “reality” when you’re with Yena is laughable. She can read your mind like a Rogue Times newspaper. You get that things you thought were impossible have a chance of happening in these days, but you don’t remember wounds healing that fast. The knife slices right through the fabric, revealing swoon-worthy curves of her waist and hips, making her bleed only not for too long. Who would want a scar-ridden skinny girl anyway?

“Well,” you say after a dutiful swallow, “are you?”

Yena examines the knife. Her crimson blood dripping from its edge is a worthwhile watch while she considers this. 

She finally puts down the knife, much to your relief. “I don’t know. What about you, handsome? Do you want to hurt me or fuck me?”

“I… I’m not like them. I don’t wanna hit you or make you cry or anything. I want to fuck you, that’s completely different.”

First confession of the night that didn’t need saying when it’s clear. You let her blow you in public. You took her home. The intention is staring you in the face: you want to have sex with a girl you just met. 

Yena smiles. “You’d be surprised how blurred the lines are.”

Yena‘s hands fall on your shoulders and make you  fall to the kitchen chair and make your pants fall on the floor. Falling, falling, falling for her—it’s all you’re able to do provided that she’s stunning. She’s tiny with her thin arms and legs but her breasts are surprisingly supple. The cleavage her top subtly shows off hinted to that and you’re still shocked.

She’s a hot desert, and the only source you can drink of is her core. Her pussy is slick, making her thighs glue together only for them to part as she sits on your lap. 

The first grind has you both breathless. The second renders a duet of moans. She’s so wet that it’s excessive enough for her to drip down your cock and completely cover it with her. Yena’s pussy lips splay and clasp your shaft with slippery friction.

She curses. “You’re so hard. Big, t-too.” She aims your cockhead at her clit and sighs at the toe-curling pleasure. “You think you can fit in me?”

“I guess we’ll have to see.”

Yena smirks. She continues soaking you with her wetness. Her juices pour from your head to your balls. Then, without warning, she sheathes your rod inside her. 

You gasp. It’s so easy to slip yourself in and all too difficult to cope with how tight she is. Her walls, perfectly textured and sloppy, trap you and let you out, giving you false hope of escaping, only to imprison you again. It’s the best punishment you ever had. 

Her throat was already better than the other cunts you’ve spent yourself in, so what does that make her pussy?

The best. Her overflowing waterfall lets her ride you easily. It seems like there’s a million spots inside her you can target for she quivers and cries with each bounce. Her hair flows photogenically while her chest does the same erotic motion. 

“So fucking good, fuck,” Yena groans. Her round butt lands on your lap and you think you’d like it to stay there forever. Curl your hands around her cheeks. Draw a healthy moan from the throat you used.

Yena’s pussy curves and opens in every best way. She makes it so easy to mold her into the shape of your cock, to rearrange her insides. Was she made for dick? She’s so wet that you’d think she’s a nymphomaniac who won’t let you go, the same way her vagina won’t let you go as its grip curls around you and threatens to milk you to your wits’ end.

You wouldn’t mind that.

Her riding accelerates to an unbearable point the moment you start to spank her. She’s right about hurting and having sex being almost the same—you want to leave red handprints all over her jiggling ass. You want to pull her hair until she screams. You want to fuck this perfect cunt of hers right up to when she’s creaming all over you, flooding your sexes with her naturla nectar.

And the crazy thing is: she’ll actually let you.

“Fucking brat,” you say, hitting her butt again. She yelps coquettishly. “Are you really this thirsty for cock?”

“God, yes…” Her head throws back. Yena’s eyes shut and although her vision is blocked she sees stars. “Wanted to know how your dick would split me open. Fuck, keep doing that!”

Her core tightens with each blow you expel on her bouncing ass. Her hole’s already so enclosed so when she squeezes more, it’s close to having your cock tortured. You’re suffocating inside her.  You’re waterboarded again and again with her waterfall of wetness. 

You guide Yena’s motions with your hands on her behind. She’s so light that you’re practically using her as a doll, fucking her on your erection and letting yourself enjoy how her tits recoil. Her moans turn on a part of your brain that you don’t know, but it transmits to you these thoughts: fuck her senseless.

You raise her as high as you can, her weight nothing even to your long-untrained muscles, then slam her down. She sinks deeper into your lap and takes longer inches. Yena’s screams bounce off the soundproof walls that ensure only you can hear them. Those walls were fucking expensive, so of course you gotta let them have purpose. Slap Yena’s thighs down on yours and let her pussy envelop you right up to the point of bruises appearing on your skin.

How does she not sweat? Your hands wander all over her tight body and still you don’t find a drop of sweat. Her pigtails are still secured. You guess she was just made to be eternally pretty. 

She is pretty, under any circumstance—her smooth skin possesses zero blemishes and her winged eyes remain lamp-bright. She’s pretty, even when she lets out the pitchiest sounds, even when Yena’s lips rise into a devilish smile before sealing on your neck. She nibbles on your skin and rakes up your sensitivity. 

“Holy shit, Yena…”

“Yeah, that’s right.” She licks behind your ear and you nearly lose it. Maybe you already did. “Say my name. Because I’m all yours. This pussy is yours to use and abuse, so do it.”

Rub her tiny pulsing clit. Yena’s cries deafen you. If that’s not enough, she drowns you with her cum. There’s no raft to save you. You’re all alone. You’ll drown here and never see the light of day again.

Electricity runs through her body as the pleasure ramps up. Her fingers weaken on your shoulders. Her gasps are split off by larger, more surprised evolutions. Yena’s close.

“Fuck, no, I can’t!” Yena’s riding is furious and borderline abusive. The noises between your two crotches are louder than before. 

“You can,” you insist. You throb inside her while her pussy becomes smaller despite the many thrusts you perform. “Take it like a good girl, Yena.”

“Fuck me, use me, I’m just your cute little helpless girl, fuck me!”

She couldn’t be more correct. She’s just a useless doll, thin and adorable and tight—so why not use her like one?

You’re surprised your limbs have any power in them, but they impress as you lift Yena up. During your walk to the counter, you don’t stop thrusting in her. She’s wet and ready, just waiting and begging for it to happen. Her pretty face is smudged with tears. There’s sick satisfaction in you from seeing how the confident girl at the bar is now just a fuckhole to use. 

“Oh, oh, ah!” Cute little whines come out from those lips. Her mouth used its power to pick you up, make you cum, make you scared. In this second, all that is gone: she’ll only ever use it to wail in pleasure.

Knock her against the kitchen counter. Her thighs press to the curve. You spread them open and continue spending yourself to death in her. Her sides that slant to make the physique you love are perfect handles to thrust. 

You’re completely soaked, but she’s completely defiled. The dream girl is not just any dream but a wet dream. She’s the fantasy you never had but will constantly think of now. And you don’t care if WAKE12 knows you’re fucking her. They can read all the thoughts you have about Yena as much as they like, and you wouldn’t care.

Instead of giving a fuck, you twist her around, her smooth back in front of you, and fuck her harder while you’re at it. Admire the way your hips slap her ass and give her the spanking she deserves. One spank, that’s for being so tempting. Another for the price of her promiscuity. Three one-after-the-other’s because she’s too wild, too free for a girl with that face.

“God, please, harder!” Yena cries. “Make me your little cocksleeve cumslut!”

She does not take pain to heart, physically and mentally. In spite of your rapid pumps and the slap of your stomach to her bent and ready ass, no bruises or scratches appear on her skin. You say all these degrading words and rather than mope about it, she gets more turned on. She forces you to give all your might in railing her in this apartment where the open windows give you away rather than the sounds. And you’re nodding along, saying:

“Of course.”

Of course you’ll grab her tits and pinch their nipples as hard as you can. Yena’s skin might not be humanly warm but these boobs are real. They’re soft in your palms and plentiful. Is she a masochist? You tweak and slap and squeeze; in response, she’s… smiling?

Of course you’ll slip your touch all over her body. Appreciate every perfect curve, every fine fullness. After fondling her tits, you slide your hands over her smooth pits, then to her arms that struggle to remain stable. She’s sensitive all over; it’s evident in the way she babbles each time you caress her. 

Of course you’ll take her hair and pull as hard as you can. She won’t get mad. Nothing ever gets to the cool girl.

“Oh my god!” Yena shouts. 

Those pigtails are there for a reason. Thrusts become easier to do with her hair curled in between your digits. Her ass meets your crotch easily and you find yourself excavating her cavern, hitting her in all the good places. Yena hums and screeches and sobs. 

“Bad girl.” Her hair plays the role of your reins. They’re convenient in spreading Yena apart with your shaft, tearing at her tightness. “You’re nothing but a filthy cocksucking slut.”

“M-mhm, yes, just for you, just for this perfect dick, ahh! I’m cumming!” 

Yena’s core flexes and contracts. It holds you like it never wants you to go but you let go anyway. You can do nothing besides that especially if it’s her, someone who’s so cute but so seductive, so challenging but submissive. Each part of her—those blowjob lips, her blooming face, her cockiness—makes you wish this could never end.

The first sign of the end of this pornographic one-reeler is your semen raining inside her, setting a storm in her guts. You pant, legs weak, while Yena’s seem to go on forever although she’s smaller than you.

The second sign is the mess she made. Those aforementioned desirable legs are painted by obscenity. She squirted all over your floor and herself. Your cum coats her vulva plus spills down freely.

Yena looking back at you with a tired smile is the last one, along with her asking, through shattered breaths, “Better than your whore ex?”

Because that’s the thing about girls like Yena. They’ll do everything to please you. Perhaps she’s a good dresser, but really, this is your style, not hers. This type of fashion is what you like on women: modestly revealing. Girls like Yena will give you everything, make you discover yourself, and when all this happens, she’ll remain the thoughtless, forgiving girl. She won’t complain about things that will set you off and say coy, clever things, the kind men like to hear.

All just to be better.

She is.

“Yeah.”

Yena chuckles. For a moment, she looks like the sweetest girl in the world. The happiness overtakes her face and makes her smile reach her ears. 

It disappears as fast as it arrived.

“Wrong fucking answer.”

Alarm sounds of every kind—natural disaster, fire, robbery, whistles—blare in your head. You can’t hear anything except the thin screeches of emergency. But for what?

Yena loses her brightness. Everything that made her shine shuts down. She smiles, that same one full of mischief, before she breaks, too. Her eyes turn pitch black, the ones you see in crows, the sign of bad luck. She disassembles part by part before you. The light girl is suddenly so heavy that she forces you down. Suddenly, her torso above yours feels colder than before. 

What the fuck? 

Escape is your first instinct. You push the remains of the girl away. Your feet kick the broken parts as if you’d break, too. You brush past the fringe of her bangs. Below it, no diamond scar rests on her forehead.

Stare down at her. Yena truly is not real. Your manic robotic dream girl is dead. She was never alive. 

“You have been found guilty,” says the implant. You used to hear it when WAKE12 arrested people and now it talks to arrest you. The alarms are loud but you understand every fragment. 

The implant’s emotionless voice now sounds a lot like—

“Chaewon?” 

Bad luck comes just like the consequences of the law, personified by stilettos clicking on your floor, a shadow in the moonlight, and the face of the woman you swear you never wanted to see again.

And yet here she is.

Chaewon looks so much like Yena. Yena looks so much like Chaewon. Their chins, their eyes, their bangs—who is who? Their faces mingle and mix in your vision. You think you’re going crazy.

She puts away a remote control and places her hands on her hips. Her black bodysuit is all you see as she approaches. Her smiling lips don’t utter a word. You hear her voice, all in your head.

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything and everything you do shall be punished by WAKE12 accordingly. This is the price you pay for your crime.”

There’s a gun in front of you. It’s aimed at your chest, determined to crush what keeps it beating. Raise your hands, but not in surrender. You’ll die before you try to be Chaewon’s toy again.

“What crime? Being your ex-boyfriend?” you spit. This has got to be a joke. “Chaewon, I said, what crime?”

She can’t abuse her authority. She couldn’t have done all that just to get back at you. And for what? Being a bad boyfriend when you were younger and dumber?

You hear her speak. That striking smile looks more terrifying than beautiful. It dissolves into darkness to pronounce your wrongdoing. 

“For the crime of fucking existing,” she snarls.

You hate Chaewon. You swore you never did yet now you do wholeheartedly. You tried to love her and reciprocate her efforts. She’s a busy woman so she should have understood you had other commitments.

This is the last time you ever want to hear from her. 

A bullet you don’t see coming. It soars in the wind and finds its home sweet home in your skull.

She’s the last thing you ever heard.

#kpop smut #smut #kpop fanfic #fanfic #kpop fanfiction #fanfiction #girl group smut #female idol smut #izone smut #soloist smut #choi yena smut #yena smut #izone yena smut #male reader #x reader #reader insert #idol x reader #idol x male reader #kpop x reader #kpop x male reader #pov smut #kofimission #commission #iz days of christmas #iz days of christmas 2023 #iz days of christmas 2023 day 4

[yandereworlds]

I can't remember if I already sent you this ask but can I ask for each of your yans' reactions to a darling that loves sitting in their lap?

<3

Dae-hyun; Oh, he'd love you to sit with him! While you being on his lap would surely make him flustered, he doesn't mind anything you'd prefer. Though, due to him being so deprived of human touch for so long, maybe don't jump into it right away and scare him off, allow him some time to get accustomed to the feeling of simple hand-holding, kisses and so on, but after the curve he'd love to hold you in his lap while you watch his favorite movies, or taking a break in the shop.

Lukas; He'd be very confused at first, also within the touch-starved boat. It would make him uncomfortable at first, he was practically told his whole life that affection like this was frowned upon. But, he can't deny that he liked it, and would try to grow used to the feeling. And once he does, you practically can't get off the man. He'll force you to sit with him as he does his boring paperwork, during casual nights in, and so on. He feels a lot more in control of you this way.

Dr. Laurence; Oh, he'd be buzzing with joy the moment his sweetheart plops down on his lap for the first time, especially if it's unprompted. He would be subtly nudging his darling to sit on his lap before, but they probably just brushed him off. But when you actually go for it, man, he's gonna be all kinds of red-faced and awkward. He already turns into a tomato when you grab his hand or give him a kiss, so you claiming a seat on his lap? That's a huge deal—like, he might just faint from the thrill of it all!

Demetrius; At first, Demetrius probably wouldn't be all for it. The couple of times his sweetheart took a seat on his lap, he probably gave them an earful. It's not that he hates getting some love from his darling, but it's more like it throws him off his game. Most of the time, he just can't focus when they're perched on his knees—for a bunch of reasons. But, if his darling keeps on trying, he'd probably cave after a bit of grumbling—then he'd pull you in tight, even if he's still muttering under his breath. While he wouldn’t admit it, he loves it.

Dantae; He'd be on cloud 9 if his sweetheart plopped down on his lap on their own accord. No way he'd let that moment slide, and as soon as you're there, he'd probably go all in, murmuring all sorts of romantic stuff to you and kneading your shoulders. He's all about treating you like royalty and dishing out the love, doesn't matter if he's swamped. Having his darling chilling on his lap is pretty much the highlight of his day, and chances are, he's the one who's usually trying to get them to sit there from the get-go!

#yandere #yancore #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere oc #yandere x reader #male yandere #//mun kiki #yandere drabbles #yanderecore #yandere headcanons #yandere art #dae-hyun #lukas #dr.laurence #demetrius #dantae #mun rose

[akutasoda]

Yay! Requests are open!

Can I please request BSD men with an eerie fem! s/o? Not gn.

Like, breathing is always very light, footsteps are silent and even the sounds of her internal organs (heartbeat, blood flowing through her veins) is very faint, she's always smiling and is almost mechanical in her movements and actions. She's her most genuine when giving them affection, is a very pleasant and sweet person but there's just something....off..about her. Like a subconscious feeling they can't quite place but ignore because they love her.

-Sincerely, 💋

mechanical affection

synopsis - how are they when they s/o is eerie and rather ominous

includes - dazai, ranpo, fyodor, jouno

warnings - fem!reader (no pronouns mentioned however), fluff, wc - 900

osamu dazai ★↷

↪dazai had met his fair sharre of 'creepy' people throughout his youth, but none of them ever actually scared him or made him slightly uncomfortable. you were the first.

↪what scared him the most was how mechanical you seemed. your actions and expressions seemed too robotic to be your genuine feelings and movements. no part of it seemed biological.

↪he cared little for how quiet your heartbeat and such was. he normally couldn't hear people's heartbeats and he could control his own so that probably was the least eerie part about you.

↪ however the lack of sound when you moved or breathed did put him on edge to begin with. it was too silent for him to let his guard down but when he got used to your presence - and your more sweeter side - he didn't mind too much.

↪ speaking of sweeter side, it did surprise him at first but he loved it. a weird sort of happiness surged through him when you gave him genuine affection for two reasons. one, the fact that only he recieved this sid eof you and two, he'd never recieved this level of affection before and getting it from you? it became a great comfort.

↪if the mafia raught him anything, it was that he should always be on guard around suspicious people. whenever you were around he couldn't help but want to apply that to you.

↪a constant nagging voice telling him to run or be careful was around when you were near. but maybe this one time he'd ignore it.

ranpo edogawa ★↷

↪the world's greatest detective was known for solving cases and everything to do with his work. a part of that would make him great at reading people and so he barely feared anyone. but when it came down to you and the nagging fear you implanted in the back of his head, he felt helpless.

↪your presence made him uncomfortable to be simple. it was a nagging put of dread that he couldn't get rid of because he couldn't read you. your silence to eerie for him to be comfortable anyway. he sometimes compared you to a ghost or some sort of spectre because of this.

↪he also hated the fact that you acted so unnatural and mechanical. everything about you from your expressions to your movements was so eerie. but weirdly enough he became accustomed to it.

↪he started veiwing it as a challenge. he became motivated to be able to finally understand you and rid himself of thsi dread you installed in him. and a good starting place was when you showed him genuine affection.

↪yes it did catch him off guard, but he quickly became accustomed to a more genuine and affectionate you behind closed doors. you became not so eerie and instead rather sweet. he still didn't fail to notice the fight or flight in his brain around you still.

fyodor dostoevsky ★↷

↪it took a vey long time for fyodor to come to trust you even a tiny bit. it would be the first time somebody's presence would cause him to be on edge, to think something was wrong and that made him distance himself from you.

↪but eventually that fear turned into a weird, sort of morbid curiosity. why did you cause him to fear you? was it the mechanical actions you would show. or was it how every part of you was eerie and too irregular.

↪fyodor only liked people he could read. they were predictable per say, easy to understand and therefore caused him no threat but from time to time some people could change that. your seemingly mechanical actions made you impossible to read and he wanted to know why.

↪he became even more curious when he gave him genuine care. your once eerie aura seemingly melted away as you showed him a sweeter side that he weirdly loved. but even when you showed affection that nagging fear still lurked.

saigiku jouno ★↷

↪ it's safe to say he barely knew you existed to begin with. he couldn't hear your heartbeat and such unless he really focused on the faint sound - leasing to him sometimes having the uncomfortable feeling someone was with him if you were around.

↪he hates it really, he can't hear your breathing or footsteps either so he truly has no idea where you could be at any given time. it really threw him off guard as it made him feel vulnerable around you.

↪he had heard from others how they'd complain about how mechanical you looked and some twisted part of him found some joy in knowing how some people feared you for this. sometimes he'd actually wish he could see it.

↪ however he did still indulge himself in your more sweeter side - the side he felt pride in knowing only he recieved. your genuine kindness did throw him a bit at first but he accustomed to it and enjoyed it.

↪he even ignored the constant nagging pit of dread in the back of his mind telling him to run, to fight, to get away from you just so he could indulge himself in your kindness.

↪the only time he could ever hear your heartbeat was when you two were hugging. and so this made the action treasured and all the more endearing for him.

#💋 anon↩ #x reader #x fem reader #x female reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bsd x you #bsd x female reader #x fem!reader #bsd dazai osamu #dazai x reader #dazai x fem reader #bsd ranpo #ranpo x reader #bsd fyodor #fyodor x reader #bsd jouno #jouno x female reader #jouno x reader

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Beyond the 305 || LS2 {4}

Summary: Australia GP - need I say more?

Warnings: nsfw, fluff, implied smut, angst

WC: 2.8k

One || Two || Three || Four

There really was a new appreciation for the effort Logan put in everyday for not just his team but for you too. You never understood how exhausting it must have been for him to balance his training and race preparation, media and sponsor duties, and flying home to you every spare moment. Now that you were travelling with him full time you finally got to see just how much added pressure it had put on him.

The London apartment, no, flat, as they called it here, was spacious enough for two people and one large dog, but it was a quarter of the size of your home in Miami. It took some getting used to, walking the length of the space in a matter of seconds or catching your toe on the furniture to avoid stepping on Sooty’s tail. But you wouldn’t change it for the world when you got to curl your body around Logan’s every night and wake up to his kisses.

“What’s your plans today, sweetheart?”

The sunrise here was watery and pale compared to Miami but it still managed to catch the blonde streaks of hair on Logan’s head. He was already dressed and ready to go for his morning run and you could hear Sooty’s paws on the wooden floor as he paced by the front door with his leash between his teeth.

“Not a lot. At 3 I have to take Sooty to the V.E.T.S,” you spell out knowing the black labrador would start sulking if he heard the word. “He has to have some extra shots now if we want to take him to Shanghai.”

Everything took more preparation when you didn’t have the usual support people around. There were different certificates needed for Sooty and new regulations for each country. It wasn’t like you could just drop him off at Dalton’s for the week. The usual help was across the Atlantic and Lily would probably be happy to have Sooty except she would be able to take him to her uni classes. Your big baby needed companionship or he would whine and howl to get attention.

“I’ll come with you,” he said with a kiss before grabbing his AirPods from where they were charging beside the bed.

“I thought you had your podcast today?”

“It’s a long flight, Alex figured we could record it on the way.”

You smiled at the thought of going to Australia for the first time. You pictured warmth, beaches and sun like you were accustomed to. It was more exciting than the other destinations so far this season. Your smile faltered as you remembered you really needed to finish packing for the evening flight and you tossed the blankets back.

“You can go back to sleep, sweetheart,” he said as he pulled his shoes on. “It’s only 6.30.”

“If I don’t finish packing now I will lie awake stressing about it anyway.”

The suitcases were already on the floor of the closet, his clothes folded neatly inside. One half was William’s team uniforms, the other were his personal clothes. The second suitcase only had a garment bag with a cocktail dress for a night out before the circus began.

“I thought you said you started?” he asked as he grabbed your waist and looked over your shoulder.

“I did start,” you pointed out. “Just didn’t get much past there. Someone distracted me.”

Logan’s hands started to roam your body exactly like they had the last time you tried to pack. “You should have more self control,” he teased.

“I’ve never been good with that around you.”

Logan turned you in his arms and grinned. “And I’m goddamn glad.”

His head started to dip down and his lips were already pursed for the kiss he was more than happy to distract you with, when Sooty started to cry at the front door. A deep groan exhaled as he dropped his forehead to yours, the moment stolen from him.

“I’m coming, Soot,” he said over his shoulder before looking back at your lips. “I’ll see you in an hour, honey.”

Logan stepped away with hesitation in his eyes and your hands fell back to your sides as you sent him a flirty wink. “Run faster.”

His lips kicked up and he returned the wink. “Yes, ma’am.”

—

Logan found you sat on the floor in the closet when he returned with a sweat soaked shirt in his hand and a very happy dog at his side. The smell hit you as Sooty bounded into the room and you understood why he was so happy when you almost gagged.

“Sorry, sweets, he rolled in something at the park.”

“Something seriously dead,” you coughed, waving your hand to try to get some fresh air. “Oh my god, Soot, that is rancid!”

Logan caught his collar before he could jump onto your lap and started to guide him out of the room. “Come on, buddy, showertime for both of us.”

The water started running and you heard Logan’s soothing voice through the walls as he calmed Sooty down. Like most dogs, he loved water but hated baths. While they were busy, you finished off folding the last items you were taking and closed the suitcase with a satisfied huff, just in time to hear your name being called.

“We’ve got a runner!”

You dashed out of the room and grabbed an old towel from the linen cupboard before making chase. Logan’s towel hung precariously low on his hips and he struggled not to slip as he ran through the flat behind Sooty. Your laughter filled the room as Logan tried to herd Sooty into the towel you held open, but he was too agile and skidded out of your reach. Logan wasn’t as lucky and failed miserably as he tried to avoid the collision.

“I’m so sorry, are you okay?” he gasped as he pulled you onto his lap and felt your body for any bumps.

“I’m fine.” Your giggles grew as Sooty bounded back over and shook out his fur. “At least we don’t have to dry him now.”

Logan laughed, holding you tighter as he realised his towel had been lost and he was sitting naked beneath you. He swallowed deeply and your eyes started to follow a rivulet of water as it rolled down his chest.

“Soot, time for a nap,” he ordered, his voice dropping with the heated look in your eyes. Paws padded across the floor before his cuddly toy squeaked under his head and Logan rose to his feet, your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you back to bed.

Pillowy kisses warmed your neck as Logan’s hands lifted your shirt up, breaking away only long enough to pull it over your head. Dropping to his knees, he dragged your leggings down and left sweet kisses on your hips before he kissed his way back up your body.

“I love you,” he whispered as his lips finally met yours and he stole your breath with his tenderness.

“I love you too, always.”

He smiled at the promise. “I’ll hold you to that, sweetheart.”

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pulled him closer until your bodies were flush together and you felt his hard length press to your core. “Or you could just hold me.”

—

The atmosphere was jovial and Logan was relaxed going into race week. Oscar had escorted you and Logan around his hometown with Lily, showing the best spots to eat and the quieter beaches to visit with Sooty. The boys hadn’t been able to resist karting at the track Oscar had learned to race after media day ended. They had tried to get you and Lily to join but you were happy to play referee to their on-track battles.

“Logan looks more relaxed this year,” Lily commented as you both enjoyed a lemonade ice block in the shade of a tree.

“He’s got some experience now but I think that’s going to come with its own pressure. People are still expecting a lot from him, I just hope he has a car that can help him meet those expectations. He was just starting to get the hang of the last one and then the season was over.”

“It sounded like the car was going to be better this year from what Osc said.”

“I'm sure that’s what Alpine told Gasly and Ocon too,” you said with a laugh.

“Serves them right,” Lily giggled. “Alpine, not Pierre.”

“What about Estie Bestie?”

Lily wrinkled her nose at the nickname. “I only met him a couple of times but I definitely wouldn’t call him that.”

It took a lot for Lily to struggle to find something nice to say about someone, she was the sweetest, most soft spoken woman you knew. So it was enough to suggest he was someone you probably wouldn’t go out of your way to meet anytime soon.

“I do wish the guys would include Lo more. I know it hurts him to see pictures of the others getting together. Not that he says anything, he’s too polite,” you said with a sigh. “He was so happy when he was invited to play padel at Testing.”

Your eyes found his blue helmet as it raced around the track, neck and neck with Oscar’s orange one. It was amazing what he could do when given an equal piece of equipment, you would never have been able to tell that they were on opposite ends of the driver standings when watching them call a draw at the finish line.

The boys abandoned their helmets and dropped to the grass beside you and Lily laughing about something Oscar had said on the walk over. Sooty was in heaven as he rolled onto his back and welcomed the fresh hands for belly rubs.

“We should get a dog.”

Lily didn’t look impressed at Oscar’s suggestion and you distracted yourself by offering Logan some of your ice block before it completely melted.

“Just something small, like a Jack Russel,” he continued. “They can’t be that hard to look after, right?”

You barely contained your laugh as you shared an amused look with Logan that he returned, but Lily caught it.

“Just ask them,” she pointed out. “It’s like having a child, isn't it? I’m studying, you’re working and travelling, who will look after it?”

“It is a full time commitment,” you agreed. “And it takes a lot of planning to have everything prepared for travelling. I actually think a child would be easier, they only need a passport to get on a plane.”

Logan nudged your knee with his and winked. “Should we test that theory out?”

“We haven’t even set a date for the wedding so calm your loins, babe,” you said with a pat to his thigh that triggered Oscar to snort.

“Okay, no dog,” he conceded, a relief to Lily’s ears. “You guys wanna get dinner?”

You were about to take up the offer but Logan shook his head and said, “we have somewhere to be.”

“We do?”

“I didn’t ask you to pack a nice dress for it to get left in the hotel. I have something special planned,” he teased. “And no, I’m not telling you, it’s a surprise.”

Try as you might, he didn’t give you a hint of what he had organised.

“You look gorgeous, sweetheart.”

Logan was struck by your beauty and his luck as you stepped out of the room in a dress that accentuated all of your features. His mouth went dry at the thought that he had the pleasure of spending the rest of his life with you.

You stepped closer and ran your palms down the clean lines of his dress shirt that had the top two buttons undone. The baring of skin showed the necklace he wore, a gift from your first anniversary. He had far more expensive pieces of jewellery but he favoured that one the most because it came from you.

“Are you sure we have to go? You’re too handsome for your own good.”

His eyes traced the peek of your tongue and it rolled across your lips suggestively and he felt his pants tighten. He did debate cancelling it all to take you straight back to the bedroom you had left but he finally wrestled his thoughts back under control. “Unfortunately, but I might cancel dessert and have you instead.”

A town car was already waiting at the front of the hotel and as it drove along you watched the city as the sun set and the street lights brightened. Melbourne was beautiful.

“We should set a date for the wedding,” Logan suddenly said as the car pulled up at the city waterfront. “Everything is so uncertain this year but you’re the one constant in my life. If I lose everything else I’ll survive, but I will always need you.”

You laced your fingers with his as you stepped out of the car and thanked the driver. “You’ll always have me, wedding or not.”

He smiled and kissed your ringed hand, leading the way to a yacht moored at the pier. “I know, but I kind of look forward to calling you my wife.”

“Kind of? I hope you’ll have more enthusiasm with your vows.” Your words were light and your smile teasing before you released his hand to board the private boat.

The light mood lasted well into the night and your heart was as full as your stomach when the boat finished its harbour cruise. You wished that mood could last all weekend, but the universe had other plans.

yourusername

yourusername date night with my favourite human @/logansargeant 💙 thank you @/lilyzneimer for babysitting our boy, Sooty, not Oscar.

You knew that look of defeat when he emerged from James’ office, it saturated his soul and leaked out through his pale blue eyes. You could count on your hand the number of times Logan had cried in front of you and your heart ached at the thought of adding another to the tally. Without a word, laced your fingers with his and walked back to the privacy of his driver room. The door shut, the sound as muted as the mood, and you opened your arms to let him fall into your embrace as he confirmed the rumours were true. Logan’s hands clutched the back of your shirt in his fists and he buried his face in your neck. “Alex is racing.”

Your heart broke at the despondent tone and you drew soothing circles across his back. He had known it was a possibility going into the meeting but had hoped his principal wouldn’t put him in a position to give up his seat for the race. Unfortunately his prayers had gone unanswered.

“I’m so sorry, my love,” you murmured as his tears hit your shoulder. “I can’t believe they are even allowed to do this.”

“James didn’t want to ask, but he’s right, Alex has the best chance for points - his history shows that clearly,” Logan rasped through the lump in his throat. He felt humiliated, disappointed and angry all at once, but he was expected to grin and bear it for the team as a united front.

Your brows knitted together and you cradled his face in your hands so you could look him in the eyes. “He gave you the choice?”

Logan shrugged. “I mean, it didn’t feel like it, but I did say yes.”

“Yes means nothing if it’s under duress,” you stated bluntly, a familiar fire warming your stomach at the thought of his kind nature being taken for granted. “Just say the word, baby, and I’ll take him to church.”

Logan shook his head and the gaping wound that had been cleaved into his chest closed a little at your protective nature. He knew you would march right back into James’ office and argue until you were blue in the face, but he feared it would only make things worse for his future prospects in the team. This was his battle to face and he was going to play the long game, even if it took playing the fool for one race.

“I know you would, sweetheart,” he said with a sniffle, wiping his eyes and swallowing down the emotion. It would have made his father proud. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you said with a kiss, tasting the salty tears on his lips. “Tell me what you need.”

“Just…stay with me?” Logan took a few steadying breaths and rested his forehead on yours as he screwed his eyes shut. “The cameras, I can’t deal with them alone. I can already feel them zooming in on me, wanting a reaction.”

You draped your arms around his neck and tangled your fingers in his hair with a reassuring smile. “Let’s disappoint them all then. Shall we?”

He took a deep breath and forced his lips to tip up into a hesitant smile that slowly grew more substantial the longer he looked at you. “Yes, ma’am.”

#logan sargeant #Logan Sargeant fanfic #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #f1 x reader

[genshindsau]

Summary: Dom/sub Universe. Aether always prided himself on following your rules - never one to break them. Yet, two weeks without you left him teetering on the edge until he finally wasn't able to handle it. However, what he didn't expect was for you to get home a few days early, much less to catch him in such a compromising position. He knew begging wouldn't help, neither would false promises, he was going to be punished regardless.

Cw: sub!aether, dom!reader, dom/sub relationship, sexual rules, non-sexual rules, masturbation, spanking, voyeurism, degradation, commands, anal, light degradation, dubious consent (Aether is in pain but he doesn't ask reader to stop), everything is consensual, safewords are implied, oral (Aether receiving), pain from overstimulation

Aether trembled under his own ministrations. Even with one hand focusing on jerking his weeping cock and the other stuffing two fingers inside of him, he couldn't get past the barest amount of pleasure. He fell forward, his face pressed into the pillow as he tried to mimic the movement you would do. Curling his fingers, grinding back against them and clenching around them as they failed to reach deep inside of him. He tightened his grip around his cock before moving to swipe his thumb over his slit, toying with the small entrance.

Fuck, he internally cursed, tears burning behind his eyelids. If it were your hands doing this he already knew he would have come at least twice but now because he was so accustomed to your touch he was unintentionally edging himself. Hanging right on the edge left him sensitive and he couldn't help the flood of shame washing over him. He shouldn't be doing this, he was breaking a rule and it wasn't like him. He took pride in following your rules, sure sometimes he would playfully tease you but he never once outright broke your rules. But you've been gone for so long. Its been over two weeks which is the longest the two of you have ever been separated since getting together.

He could recite the rules you gave him before leaving without any hesitations. One, make sure he eats three proper meals and drinks at least two glasses of water; two, that he gets at least seven hours of sleep; and three, no touching himself. The first rule was easy to follow especially since you meticulously preprepared meals that would last a while for him that he could easily heat up or cook. The second one was a little more difficult for two reasons. He couldn't sleep as well without you and would wake up sometimes in the middle of the nights and other times work got in the way. However, he managed to fulfill these two rules.

For the third rule, the first week was easy - he was busy with a project for work so it wasn't exactly at the forefront of his mind. However, as the second week rolled around and he finished his project he had time to relax. One night he was mindlessly scrolling on his phone and came across more intimate photos of the two of you. The arousal that swirled in his gut left him curling into himself. Even while staring at a picture of your blissed out face and his cum covering your stomach he refrained from touching himself.

One day, turned into two, turned into three, then as the forth day hit he spent the entire day trying to redirect his focus from the hard-on in his pants. He finally crumbled after the two of your talked for almost an hour over the phone that morning. Hearing your voice and the subtle teases that he knew you were doing on purpose caused his control to slip - it didn't help that when he called you, it was nighttime where you were so he had fully view of your sleepy look and raspy voice. As soon as you two hung up he made his way into your guys shared bed, clothing being flung onto the floor. He fell onto his stomach and his hips jerked against the crumbled up sheets.

That led him to where he was now with his own fingers stuffed inside of him and his other hand letting go of his cock to grip one of his butt cheeks, pulling them apart to try and reach deeper.

"hah - mgh," his cock dragged on the comforter beneath him, his hips lurching forward. The pads of his fingers were pushing against his walls seeking out that one spot you always hit with such precision and left him sobbing and shaking underneath your own body.

The thought of you learning about his rule breaking had completely vanished from his mind. He bit down on the pillow and his tears finally fell - one drop cascading down his cheeks before another followed and then another…

"Seriously," your voice cut through the room and he froze, his hands stilling.

"Y/n," he stuttered. Scared to turn around he brought his hands to the pillow.

"That’s all you've got to say?" You ponder as you took him in. His head was angled down to stare at the bed sheets and his fingers were clutching at the sheets tight enough that his knuckles were whitening. "Couldn't even last two weeks without needing something inside of you, could you?"

He burned underneath your gaze and the words you said. Embarrassed that what you said had some truth to it.

"Not to mention the fact that you broke one of the rules." Due to his head being downcast he couldn't see you as your stalked towards him. "I only gave you three and yet you broke one of them."

"I," he hesitated on what to say. "I'm sorry." He whispered out, his voice cracking.

"Its hard to believe that pathetic apology, especially with the way you dripping all over the sheets and well this," Two of your fingers delicately ran over his rim which fluttered underneath your soft touch.

His breath came out in harsh pants. You let out a small whistle, "Must have been going at it for a while, considering how open this is." Two of your fingers easily slipped inside of him. His hips jerked forward and he tried to pull away, "Don’t move."

He body froze as the command settled over him. The feeling washed over him, traveling up to his head causing his body to go lax.

"did you cum?" You asked in such a condescending tone that it left him shriveling underneath you. You knew that answer. You knew that he was conditioned to your touch and your touch alone.

"I - agh - i…" He tried to gets words out but with your fingers spreading him out, stretching him so that there was just bearable sting his mouth hung open, tongue hanging out.

"You.. You," you repeated back to him, mocking him.

"ahh," the resounding smack to the back of his thighs left him trying to squirm away, his hands cling onto the sheets trying to pull himself forward and away from your hands.

"Answer me."

It was a command. He had to answer. The command left him lightheaded as his mind failed to follow through right away.

"no," You rewarded him with a curl of your fingers as he answered. "nono. I didn't. couldn't." He gasped out in one breath, the feeling of being on the precipice of an orgasm wrecking his mind.

"Couldn't?" you repeat back to him. "Why not?"

You were teasing him with your words while your hand inched in another finger.

"be-because - nghh," Feeling your fingers (was it three, or was it four, he wasn't sure) curl inside of him he couldn't finish speaking. His thighs shook as his bottom lifted from the sheets, spasming around your fingers. "It wasn't," a breath was forced out of him, "it wasn't you."

He heard a small laugh leave you and then the angling of your fingers grazing the inside of him and pressing the pads of your fingertips - "ahhh" he wailed out as his body heated up, cock bobbing and spilling out all over the sheets.

"There you go," your other hand rubbed the small of his back, a false comfort even as your fingers refused to stop their movement. "Good boy."

He wasn't even able to come down from his first orgasm because your continued to curl your fingers, pressing insistently inside of him. "You really didn't think I'd just let you get off with breaking the rules?"

His mouth opened to reply but all that came out were harsh pants. "no. I just - I thought - mhh," his body trembled and spasmed as he came again, this time falling against the sheets, your fingers slipping out of him. In turn, your hands went to his butt cheeks, opting to palm them. "I thought you wouldn't let me," he hesitantly whispered out, embarrassed at having to voice this thought out.

Instead of replying right away, your hands moved to his hips and forced his body to turn around so that he was on his back. It was the first time since you've found him that he was able to properly look at you. The desire in your eyes left him stunned. "Is that so." You hummed and he nodded.

"Perhaps I shoudn't." You ran one finger down his softening cock. "Afterall, do you know how shocked I was that Aether, my Aether, was touching himself when he knew not too." You feign a sigh and shrugged your shoulders. "I mean you breaking my rules, that’s practically unheard of."

He sniffled, upset with himself and the despair that came from your words.

"You're usually so good," As you finished talking your wrapped one hand around his cock, perhaps a bit too tight but a punishment wasn't suppose to be all pleasurable. "Who knew that you're actually a slut who couldn't even keep his own hands off of himself."

"I'm not." His voice wobbled, tears beading in his eyes. His hips lurched up, cock slowly swelling up one more. "I'm good," he corrected himself, "I can be good."

You pulled your hand away and licked the tip of your thumb before bringing it back down to his own cock. With the swipe of your thumb, you picked up the lingering wetness seeping out of his slit. The feeling of your finger rubbing at his head left his back arching, the arousal building at an almost painful rate.

Hands scrambled downwards, trying to grab at your wrist. A smack filled the room as you slapped his hands away. "Keep them to yourself."

A sob was stuck in his throat. Your second hand came down to cup his balls, squeezing them and rolling them in your palm. His stomach tightened underneath the warmth of your touch, mouth falling open. The pressure continued to build in him and as the recurring jolts of pleasure shot through him, he emptied onto himself, some of it coming to land on his own cheek.

With the pleasure still coursing through him, he was dizzy with his lust. The aftereffects of the orgasm continued to wrack his body, leaving him twitching underneath you. He wasn't even able to recognize your hand which continued to jerk him off, even as he softened once more.

His upper body lurched up, trying to curl up into himself but he was stopped by your own body. The warmth emitting from your body left him defenseless as he collapsed against you. You slowed your movement but continued to run your hand around his cock. His thighs trembled and tried to close but was unable to due to you sitting in between them.

"mghh, I - ah," his head fell to your neck, breath coming out in uneven pants. "y/n, pleaseplease," he wasn't even sure what he was asking, his mind muddled with the pleasure and the pain starting to bleed through. Your free hand wrapped around his waist, keeping him close to you.

"c'mon love, one more, you can do that for me right." You cooed and bit down on his ears. "Don't you want to be good for me." It was manipulative but all he could hear was the words repeating in his head 'want to be good for me, good for me, good for me'

He nodded, "I do," he gasped out. "I'll be good." He jerked in your grasp, his hips trying to squirm away, the aching and itchy feeling sinking in. "bu-but.." his body hurt, his cock wasn't working right, he wasn't hard and the pleasure was quickly be replaced with pain. "I don’t th-think I can," his voice broke in between.

His arms came to latch around your shoulders as he was overcome with the need to cry out. "It hurts," he whimpered out. "please."

He felt your chest move as you sighed and your hand retracted from him. His chest burned. In his hazy mind he took that sigh as a sign that you were disappointed in him. One hand came to pull his head back and away from your shoulders. You cupped your palm to his feverish cheeks and he practically melted into the touch.

"I'll give you a minute to calm down but this is a punishment, its not suppose to be completely pleasurable." You reminded him. "You remember what to do if it truly gets too much, right?"

He took in a few deep breaths and nodded. The pain and pleasure were lingering but not nearly as strong and as encompassing as before.

"Alright, lay back." You put your hand on his chest to push him back down onto his back and he couldn't help the pout that formed on his lips. A small smile formed on your lips and you ran a finger over his bottom lip.

Your hands ran over his chest and down his stomach and his body squirmed at the soft touch. His stomach was soaked in sweat and lingering remnants of his previous orgasms. He tensed, expecting to feel your touch on his cock but instead you passed it, picking up all the remaining mess on his stomach and traveling to his thighs.

You pushed his thighs further apart, letting him feel the uncomfortable tightness from his muscles being pulled. You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his thighs. He relished in the soft touches and the wetness that came from your lips.

Once you were satisfied you moved to the other, making sure to sink your teeth in enough to leave lasting marks. He flinched at the pain from your teeth but that pain quickly morphed into pleasure.

When one of your fingers prodded at his hole, his legs jerked, moving to bend them so that he feet were flat on the bed. Three of your finger slid right into him and Aether let out a pleasurable moan. This touch was much more bearable compared to the direct contact on his cock.

While curling your fingers inwards, you moved to pull your fingers back before thrusting them in. Whines filled the room along with wet sounds as your fingers moved. If Aether was more aware, he would be embarrassed but all he could feel was the tightening all throughout his body, his legs kicking out as his hips jerked up. His whole body felt like it was lighting up, the arousal wrack through every crack and crevice through his body.

"y/n,y/n,y/n" it seems like all he could say was your name as he spilled over himself. His eyes were half lidded, wanting to shut due to the pleasure but also not wanting to look away from you.

He wailed out as you slowed down your fingers but continued to move them more purposefully inside of him. You knew exactly where to aim and hit and it seems that you were done holding back. He felt your other hand pressing his waist down, ensuring that he couldn't squirm away.

As the third orgasm hit him, his movements lost the force behind them, allowing you to easily maneuver him or hold him down however you wanted. His head was resting against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling through blurry eyes. Tears cascaded freely down his cheeks and fell off of his chin. His lips were dropped open, pants and cries passing through them.

As you leaned down, your lips passed over the skin of his cock. You could tell he has finally fallen into that blissful headspace as he barely reacted, if anything he moved as if to get more of the stimulation despite the dull pain of the overstimulation registering in the back of his mind.

You ran your tongue from the bottom of his cock up until you got to the head. When you wrapped your lips around the tip and sucked Aether keened, his back arching and hips twitching. He let out a soft whimper, his voice not stable enough to do anything too loud. You continued to suck and twirl your tongue, inching a little more of him down your throat.

He couldn't even warn you as he came, his cum filling your mouth as you drank it down. There wasn't much, not even enough to fill your mouth, indicating just how many time he had came. As you pulled off you suspected that by the next orgasm he wouldn't have anything left inside of him.

He was shaking, the pain setting in and becoming more prominent as you continued to play with him. His tongue was heavy in his mouth, unable to form any words.

You pulled back all forms of contact. Aether trembled underneath your gaze. Even without you touching him, his body felt like all the nerves were exposed, red-hot heat bubbling underneath his skin threatening to burst at the slightest touch from you.

You leaned forward, pushing back the sweaty strands of hair that stuck to his forehead. Looking at his spit-slicked lips, the glossy shine on his face all you wanted to do was kiss him but you refrained. You would only kiss him after his punishment was done.

In a daze, his eyes fixated on your form hovering above him. He instinctively tried to lean up, chasing your blurry frame. It was amusing to see him try but his body felt like it was floating and yet at the same time, held down so he struggled to even lift his head.

A chuckle filled the room as you used one hand to press down on his forehead causing him to fall back. His breathing had calmed down, regulating to a normal speed. You took this moments to let your hands travel around his body. Your cupped his neck, letting your thumb graze his jaw, trailed down his chest, smiling as he jerked when you twisted his nipples, and then his stomach.

"Easy love," you cooed out as he jerked as your touch got lower and your ran your nails around his base, where the skin met.

He heard the words, could tell that you were speaking but they didn't compute. His body reacted on its own, squirming and trying to move away from the feeling.

"huhh - nnoo - ungh," Aether tried to speak despite his muddled mind but only small sounds left him. He felt the stretch of his rim as you reinserted four fingers.  

"Just a little more sweetheart," the pain steadily built up, encompassing the pleasure this time. His hands flailed around, trying to grab onto you but you easily smacked them away. "One more love, just one more then we'll be done."

You roughened your movements, curling finger into him and your other hand moved to his softened cock that was resting on the mess on his stomach. A wail was punctured out of him, his voice cracking. He could barely feel the pleasure, instead he ached deep inside and yet his body continued to build up to his orgasm. His stomach was wildly tensing and contracting.

The uncomfortable feeling continued to build until his back arched a final time, mouth dropping open in a silent scream. His body spasmed and you watched as nothing came out of him. He wasn't able to calm down, shaking as sobs left his lips. "sorry," he hushed out, voice barely audible. "sorrysorrysorry," he shook his head rapidly. "wo-won't do it ag-again."

You gently shushed him and maneuvered him into your lap, his body pliant underneath your hands. You dragged his head to rested on your chest, letting him listen to your heartbeat. You brought your other hand to cover his free ear, ensuring that he could just focus on the one thing.

"You did so good love," you littered kisses to the side of his head. With how badly he was trembling you thought about giving him a command, wanting him to calm down when he was obviously struggling but you opted against it. It could also make things worse. His mind, as dazed as it was, would unconsciously recognize the words and do what you said but if his body reacted faster than his mind did it could cause problems in the future with his response to commands. Instead you just held him close and worked on doing everything you knew from past experiences that would help him come back to himself.

--

With his head on your chest, "I did follow the other rules though." He quietly added, finally starting to come back to himself.

You laughed and then pressed a kiss to his forehead. "That’s good sweetheart."

#genshin au #dom reader #sub character #genshin smut #sub genshin #sub genshin impact #d/s au #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #sub aether #sub!aether #aether smut #aether x reader

[lanasblood]

VIVID DREAMS | neteyam x reader

dedicated to @andraga12​ just because she’s el amor de mi vida who always inspires me to be better, and I wanted to give back some of the love she generously spreads in this fandom with her personality and her writing! 

neteyam artwork by my talented @cinetrix​ (click here to see more) 

pairing: neteyam x female reader (wc: 1.2k)

summary: what do you call the phenomenon, where you cannot control the longing in your eyes or the fire in your loins, where you consistently fall in love with someone every time you see them? as for neteyam, this someone is you. (proceed with caution, his thoughts are unhinged, 18+ mdni)

Being the son of the clan leader had its benefits, but it also came with its downsides. There was immense pressure to be the best in everything, pressure he put on himself, so much that for quite some time — too long for him to admit — he was accompanied by intense stress and sleepless nights. The days blended together, no longer offering a sense of overview, no longer dividing day and night for him. He was a breathing, working mess, alive but barely living, like the remnants of a walking corpse, whose reflexes still functioned. His body was accustomed to it, his strong physique, sculpted by years of discipline, was used to worse actually, but slowly the burden was taking its toll on his mind for he began to see things, hallucinating, as Lo'ak had called it. It had reached such dimensions that his father had sent him on forced leave, a decision that was infuriating in such critical times, but protest was not tolerated, because deep down Neteyam knew his father was right; some days — the most exhausting ones — it was difficult for him to distinguish his dreams from reality as it all blended together, and that was the last alarming sign for him to know he had to fix his work-life-balance, especially when it came to you.

she's a celestial inferno in his mind  the flames consuming him cannot be denied   as every carnal desire burning his skin  raw illusions rise, awakening divine 

The mere thought of you already numbed his senses, consumed him whole, so looking at you right now how you danced along with your friends, your body effortlessly swayed to the rhythm, accompanied by the traditional instruments, did things to him he did not dare to say out loud. There was an undeniable connection; he was longing for you, needing you in ways that couldn't be described. 

Watching you from afar as he leaned against a rock, originally trying to avoid the festivities following the victorious war party he hadn't been allowed to participate in, it was mesmerizing to him how you moved your hips with such sensuality, it took his mind to places. His eyes aglow like molten gold, were glued to your body, followed your every move, refused to leave your enchanting features even for a fleeting moment. The forest immediately dissolved around him into a big blur of dark green, slowly fading into a hushed background, leaving only you as the focal point of his existence, as if completely bewitched by your presence. And for the first time in his life, despite the unyielding strength he commanded in battle, he found himself powerless, absolutely disarmed and vulnerable against the allure you possessed.

He couldn't control the vivid imagines that flooded his mind in the next second when you bend down to gather the empty bottles from the ground so that no one would trip on them, his hidden wants messing with his reality in an instant. His hands on your waist, the rhythm of your bodies in perfect synchrony, the rolling motion of your hips against his, skin on skin, teeth clinking, lips smacking with each hungry kiss. He couldn't help but picture the way you'd respond to his touch, your soft flesh yielding by the firmness of his grip, your head thrown back in ecstasy, your eyes rolling in pleasure, the breathy moans escaping your lips like a siren's call, pulling him closer to you, deeper and deeper into the depths of desire. 

Wishful thinking. 

He knew that he couldn't resist the gravity of his passion any longer. With every breath, every beat of his heart, he discovered a truth — he was falling, falling, falling, and he couldn't deny it.

Neteyam's breath quickened even more when you met his eyes, only for a second before you quickly looked away, his heart pounded in his chest like the loud drums next to the table with drinks, as he fought to control the raw desire that surged within him. The fire in his loins burned brighter as he felt the energy radiating from you, a magnetic pull even, that defied reason, defied control, defied the chaos raging within him, that became a force he could not contain. And even if the yearning in his blood vessels and the longing in his eyes spoke volumes, his lips remained silent for he had not once dared to confess.

That was however until he heard your laugh a second later when one of your friends said something to you; the combination of eye contact and your melodic laugh gave him the courage to approach you, start a conversation, he had done it many times before, so he could do it again, he was good at small talk, he was Neteyam, it was nothing but child's play for him, he would talk to you and— 

"Does Neteyam have any idea how ridiculously gorgeous he is?"

His heart skipped a beat as he overheard your words, spoken with a touch of wonder and followed by a dreamy sigh. The corners of his mouth curled into a soft smile, and his cheeks felt warm as he chuckled to himself, shaking his head slightly. He had never imagined that you would see him in such a light, let alone voice it aloud. It filled him with pride, and he couldn't help but feel a mix of joy and disbelief that he quickly hid with his newfound confidence as he walked the last steps to approach you.

"Well," he said with a playful smile on his lips, "I wouldn't say ridiculously gorgeous, but I do try my best."

Immediately, your eyes grew wide as you opened your mouth to say something but then closed it again, and he thoroughly enjoyed observing the play of expressions on your face. He felt great, his self-doubt vanished in an instant, it was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a version of himself he had never fully embraced before. With his arms crossed in front of his chest and a smug grin on his face, he watched your every move, every flick of your gaze, every tremble of your finger, the color of your cheeks slightly darker than the rest of your skin, every subtle gesture teased his imagination, fueling his fantasies, like your eyes, big and beautiful, a mix of innocence and surprise in them, he couldn't help but imagine the taste of your lips as you nervously licked over them, those lips, oh, those lips looking as sweet and plump as… he gulped and reminded himself to get it together.

And when you turned around, away from him, without any word, quickly leaving the celebrations, vanishing between the thick leaves of pandora's flora, he kept staring at that place and he smiled, accepting the truth that could not be denied any longer: He was consumed by an insatiable hunger for you, a hunger that only you could satisfy, and he swore to himself, in that exact moment, that he would do anything — no matter the time and costs, even if it meant to put the night sky into chains and conquer all the stars — to make you his, for you were his star, his very personal wishing star.

note: thank you for reading, my loves, please don’t forget to leave feedback (I appreciate any form of it, be it likes, comments, reblogs, or just an anonymous message in my inbox) to let me know you enjoyed this 💕

#neteyam x reader #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam #neteyam smut #adult neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam sully x you #neteyam sully imagine #neteyam sully x na’vi!reader #neteyam x omatikaya!reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x omaticaya!reader #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam pov #neteyam fanfic #neteyam x oc #neteyam imagine #neteyam is alive #neteyam fluff #neteyam fic #neteyam rec's #neteyam reader #avatar the way of water #Avatar 2 #avatar twow #avatar the way of water imagine #atwow x y/n #atwow x you #atwow neteyam

[lanitalay]

At sea 

Rhysand x reader

a/n: Hi my loves!!!! I wrote this to break the ice after winter break. It will likely have one or two more parts. Wanted to write some Rhysand fluff after destroying his character in Before I say goodnight lol.

word count: 1k

warnings: none

Summary: reader returns home after months at sea.

Part 2

Salt coated the railings you clung to while walking down the stairs to the main deck. The summer sun had dried up the water that had crashed against the ship all night long. Now small crystals blanket every surface on board. You make it down the wonky steps, map rolled and tucked under your arm. It had been a rough passage last night, the shaking had kept most of the crew on board hugging buckets, unable to control the bile. It was the most dangerous part of the voyage, the captain had to watch out for jagged rocks that were mostly covered by water or mist, towering waves and fog overhead that prevented the guiding stars to be visible. 

It would be a matter of days now. If you squinted you could swear the shoreline of Velaris was on the horizon. This time it had been an entire season. The trek had started the day after the last of the snow melted and you would be back just shy of the summer solstice. You had never been gone this long from your home. The salt air was starting to stink, you yearned for green fields and pine scented breezes. 

You had collected more samples than ever before. The botany in the foreign lands you visited was truly magnificent and different to what you were accustomed to in the Night Court. In your private quarter you had managed to fit around one thousand dried samples of leaves, roots, flowers and a few insects along with some living plants, placed carefully near the port hole and a plethora of seeds. Your favorite treasure was an exceptional plant that you had meticulously looked after because the bright violet color of the flowers reminded you of a pair of matching eyes back home. Rhysand. You tried not to think of him. You really really did. But in the flowers you saw his eyes. In the stars you saw his smile. In dark waters you saw his fury. In the sea shanties you heard his drunken laugh. A sigh escapes your frowning mouth. 

He might have married or mated by the time you return. Not that anything romantic existed outside of your wildest dreams. But he was your friend. You had known him since the head researcher of the priestesses had sent for a field researcher, since she did not feel ready to be outside of the sacred library walls. You had been recruited because your father was a renowned explorer and you had grown up by his side. Every shore in Prythian and the Continent was familiar to your family. Every shore unknown called your name. 

Rhysand was the one who brought you to the library the first time. He had wanted to be present and even gave you a tour himself of the massive sanctuary. Since then, each time you return he flies you to the library and you tell him an abridged version of what you saw on your travels. Sometimes you think that he holds you a little tighter than the last time he saw you and you stop yourself before even thinking that there is a glint in his eyes that indicates something more than polite interest. 

The days pass slowly. Eventually, the familiar cliff sides and hilly landscape come into view. Relief floods your chest. You would be staying a while this time. Cataloging all of the new materials would take at least until the end of summer. Flapping sounds from above and you look up expecting to see the mast ripped but instead a gliding shadow figure high above. An inevitable smile forms on your face. 

It feels like docking the boat took forever. But once all the ropes are tied and the masts lowered, the bridge gets lowered and you all but leap to the wooden platform and to the young High Lord that’s waiting for you. Sprinting you pounce on him, wrapping your arms around his neck and relishing the feeling of being on solid ground. “Welcome home, explorer” his smooth voice soothes your racing heart. Seconds pass before you let go and look at him. He’s beaming, his hair has gotten longer since you’d gone,  his face is clean shaven and he smells of home. You open your mouth to speak but his smile- his smile is making it impossible for you to concentrate on anything other than his mouth. So you stall. Your hands ruffle his hair in the way you knew would annoy him and he laughs. 

“I’m so glad to be back” you finally say. 

Flying to the House of Wind was routine at this point in your career. You would land and immediately go debrief with your head researcher. But today Rhys had asked you if you were hungry. The grumble in your stomach told him you were. So now you were eating a lovely lunch prepared by the house. It felt decadent to eat anything other than fish and potatoes. You moan as you bite and the High Lord in front of you chuckles. 

“What else did you find?” 

“Besides the plants there were incredible creatures there. Some had fur and some had scales. I drew them in my books” you point towards the bag you had brought with you most precious items. He reaches for it and begins to flip through the pages of your findings. 

“This is fascinating” he breathes. 

“What about you? Is there anything new in the Court?” You notice his jaw clench for a fraction of a second.  “Is something wrong?” 

He shakes his head and closes the book “there are whispers of war”. Your blood drains from your face. “What do you mean?” 

His face is now the face of a High Lord, relaying important information to a court member “Hybern has been making some advances, Prythian is too fragmented to stand a chance”. The war that had put the wall between the human realm and the seven courts had ended not one hundred years ago. Villages were still recovering. The Courts were still shifting in new power dynamics. 

“What can I do?” You were no warrior. The amount of times you’d trained with the Inner Circle you could count on one hand and it had always been to appease Cassian. Rhys looks away “nothing, we are trying our best to unify and organize our armies”. Something akin to a thorn nestles itself in your heart “and how are you going to do that?” 

He swallows and looks straight through your eyes “I’m marrying the Princess of Autumn”. 

#acosf #acowar #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #acotar #acofas #acomaf #rhysand #lucien vanserra #rhys acotar #rhysand x reader #rhysand x y/n #fluff #light angst #angst #angst with a happy ending

[ms--lobotomy]

Hello! You've asked for promts, I will give you some

What about something general? Like confessing, reaction to hugs, first kiss?

You can write one of these. I really prefer if it will be for every primarch,but if you can't it's ok.

Sorry for my english, it's not my native language. Good luck!

hi anon! your english is wonderful, even as a native speaker i struggle sometimes haha. i'll do your first kiss with each primarch! i hope you like it :D

LION EL'JONSON- You had to initiate this one. Not because he wasn't interested, but because he genuinely could not tell how interested you were. "Lean down, please." His breath was hot on your face, and his expression was scrunched into one of confusion. You were finally close, you couldn't afford to mess it up now. You wrapped your arms around his neck and met his lips with yours. It took a few seconds for him to reciprocate, but when he did, he pressed you against the ground and began to take control.

???- You kissed them so well they faded out of existence. Oops. Or rather, good job?

FULGRIM- You were in bed together, laying on the finest silks the Imperium could produce. You were idly chatting about something unimportant, and there was a lull in the conversation. His features weren't exactly hardened to begin with, but you could see his expression soften as he took your face in his hands. He just looked at you for a second, before pulling you in for a slow kiss. You could feel him slip into your mouth, only slightly, as you melted in his hands.

PERTURABO- He crankily tinkered with a small machine. You had no idea a man so large could operate tools so small, but he kept surprising you as long as you knew him. "Surely you deserve a break, my lord," you said. "If only so you don't get burnt out." In a moment of tolerance, he picked you up and set you upon his lap, straddling him. His expression didn't change. But he wordlessly leaned down and pulled your face up, and you were locked in a kiss in a short moment of peace.

JAGHATAI KHAN- Remote locations. Grassy planets. Motorbikes. You'd become quite accustomed to these since you began your relationship with the Fifth. You'd stopped to make camp for the night and watched the stars come out, one by one. He put his arm around you, staring up alongside you. You sat there in silence for a while, before you felt him tilt your chin towards him. And before you knew it, his lips were on yours.

LEMAN RUSS- You were arguing. It was over something dumb, something like whether a straw has one or two holes. To make matters worse, it was in front of so. Many. Of his sons. Who were throwing their opinions in left and right. Right after you made your point, he grabbed your shirt with one hand and lifted you close to him with the other. The kiss was immediate, his lips were rough on yours.

ROGAL DORN- He was working on schematics for... something, and you were idly sitting in his lap, watching as he calculated incomprehensible numbers with nothing but pen and paper. He sighed, and scribbled some of them out before turning you around to face him. He buried his head in the crook of your neck and the two of you sat like that for a second before he worked kisses up from your neck to your lips.

KONRAD CURZE- He's so emotionally stunted, he went in for it at the worst. Possible. Time. After he had erected an effigy at the foot of your bed made of... skin and bones, maybe. Tactfully, you asked him if it could reside somewhere else. And then he knelt down, folded you in his arms and went in for the kiss. It was rough and unpracticed, but at least (?) it was genuine.

SANGUINIUS- He was in flight, with you under his arm. You were high enough that you could fall to your death if he dropped you, but his grip was firm. His wings were spread out and his feathers fluttered in the air. You tilted your head up to get a glimpse of your beloved, and you could feel the two of you diving down as he gave you a short but sweet kiss on the lips. You grabbed onto him as the ground approached quicker than what was comfortable, but he steadied himself and you stayed in the air.

FERRUS MANUS- He was busy at work on his next weapon. It was still comparable to a metal rod. He was concentrating, and you wanted to rile him up. So you asked him silly questions. "When would it be ready?" "Why did it look so... rodlike?" He sighed and put down his equipment and the red-hot weapon, at a stopping spot. He said nothing, yet stared at you with annoyance and something else you couldn't quite put your finger on. The kiss came as a surprise, and it was quick, and he got back to work after.

???- Never kissed anyone in their life, and never will.

ANGRON- Oh? You thought CURZE was emotionally stunted? Lol. LMAO. He was recounting his days in the arena to you as you held his hand. If words weren't enough to tell you how angry he really was, his eyes gave it away. You put a hand on his shoulder, something you had to contort yourself to do. He sighed and picked you up after finishing his sentence, gruffly mashing his face into yours. It wasn't much of a kiss, but you would learn together.

ROBOUTE GUILLIMAN- He called you into his office, with papers messily laying around his desk. You watched him pace around the room for a few seconds, his face a scarlet red, before he wordlessly grabbed your arm, cleared a space on his desk, and sat you upon it. You could see him tower over you, feel him tilt your chin up, and you knew that he was deliberating what to do for the final time before his lips slammed into yours.

MORTARION- It started with a hug. One that you had initiated, one that he had hardly expected. You could only wrap your arms around his waist at the highest. You looked up at him. You saw the beginnings of a glare on his face before his expression softened. He knelt down to your level and sighed, contemplating... something. He closed his eyes, his face coming ever so slightly closer to yours. You decided to seal the deal.

MAGNUS THE RED- It was on a private library date. You were looking at him, wondering if you should go in for it, while he was reading an unrelated book. He kept looking back up at you, though. Smirking at you. Toying with you. Your gazes met, and his smirk became a full on grin before he stood up suddenly. He scooped you up in his arms, brushing his lips across yours before he finally went in for it.

HORUS LUPERCAL- You were idly looking out into the stars, lost in thought. Before too much time had passed, though, you felt a heavy hand on your shoulder. You looked up to see Horus, who knelt down to your level. You thought that he was busy, but he must not have been. He lingered there for a moment, taking you in before an "I love you" escaped his lips. He grabbed your waist and pulled you in, pushing a slow kiss onto your lips.

LORGAR AURELIAN- The Urizen spoke of powers above him with religious fervor. Even in the privacy of your quarters, the words bled from him incessantly. The problem was, you were in bed with him and you were trying to sleep. He held you in front of him, and you turned to face him mid-sentence. And before that sentence ended, your lips were on his. He was stunned for a few seconds, but he returned the kiss.

VULKAN- The stove was a little high for you, but you'd decided to cook a nice meal for your lover regardless. You wanted to keep it a surprise, but his large figure appeared in the doorway before you could finish. You gasped, trying in vain to hide the act from him, but he laughed and knelt to your level anyways. His breath was warm on your face, and his kiss was even warmer.

CORVUS CORAX- You'd come to expect him out of the strangest places. His presence was comforting, even when you were unprepared for it. And unprepared you were, as he stepped out of the shadows while you were getting ready for the day. He looked you up and down for a few seconds, before pulling you in for a passionate kiss.

ALPHARIUS OMEGON- You weren't sure whether this was Alpharius or Omegon, but you knew that he was one of the two because he was slightly taller than the average space marine. It became a game you played with yourself. While he was talking with you, you tried to discern which brother you were talking to. You were right... half of the time. While you were staring and thinking, he planted a quick kiss on your lips. You were too stunned to make a guess.

#warhammer 40k x reader #primarch x reader #lion el'jonson x reader #fulgrim x reader #perturabo x reader #jaghatai khan x reader #leman russ x reader #rogal dorn x reader #konrad curze x reader #sanguinius x reader #ferrus manus x reader #angron x reader #roboute guilliman x reader #mortarion x reader #magnus the red x reader #horus lupercal x reader #lorgar x reader #vulkan x reader #corvus corax x reader #alpharius x reader #WHEW thats a lot of tags #warhammer lobotomy

[mrsriddlenott]

Mistakes

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fighting,Break Up, minor Fluff,

*Implied Gryffindor!Reader but barley*

Draco Malfoy was anything but a good person. He’d pick fights for no reason, he’d hex people he didn’t like, he’d bully younger students, anything to ignore what was happening around him. He didn’t see a reason to stop until he met you. Draco had absolutely no idea how he missed you for so long, you were there, right behind the Golden Trio the whole time. From the second he heard your voice it was like the curtains of a dingy old manor were thrown open to engulf him in summer warmth.

You were scolding him for how he spoke to Harry and all he could hear was the way his name fell from your lips. Those eyes looking up to him like he was the worst person imaginable was the only thing that could spark a change in the Slytherin Prince. And to your surprise, he actually was changing. He’d learned to ignore things he didn’t like instead of taking control of them as his focus veered toward winning your heart. Eventually the castle slowly became accustomed to peaceful walks in the corridors instead of pranks and hazing as Draco began to realize life wasn’t just about him, everyone was going through something. Including you, which was all he cared about now.

Even though there were times when he’d pick a fight or cast a spell at someone, you always understood that he was trying, that he made mistakes. And he absolutely couldn’t believe it when you finally said yes to his advances, in his eyes, everything he did was a mistake until you said yes to that Hogsmeade date.

But today he had a reason and a good one at that. He’d overheard a Slytherin 4th year talking about your body and what he’d do to you, whether you wanted him to or not. So he of course took it upon himself to teach the twat a lesson, at first he was just gonna scare him with a few choice words but when the boy didn’t back down on his threats, instead doubling down with his obscene comments, Draco decided his fists could do the talking. You however, only saw the tail end as you left for the great hall. Seeing your 7th year boyfriend, who was practically an adult, manhandle and abuse someone who was basically a child, made you sick to your stomach.

You of course didn’t know his reasoning and as you yelled in his face for everyone to hear that you were done cleaning up after him, Draco Malfoy’s heart of stone, shattered into pieces. His whole life for the past year was built on the promise of you being there, and he was going to do anything in his power to get that back.

Saturday morning you woke up to your favorite flowers on your nightstand, “Please let me explain,” written in loopy letters on a paper crane beside them. You threw off your blanket, slipped on your slippers and grabbed them both, the sun had barley risen and the castle was eerily silent as your slippers scraped along the path to the Slytherin common room. As you stared up at your boyfrie- ex boyfriend’s door, you contemplated just crashing in to kiss him, hug him, just talk to him, but that feeling in your stomach from yesterday never left. You let the flowers and note fall to your feet at his door, quickly rushing back to your dorm to cry before he could see you out here.

The next morning was harder to resist, the alluring smell of your favorite sweets filling your nostrils as you woke. Groggily you wiped at your eyes, grabbing at the origami with loopy writing again, “I promise I wasn’t being a git.” was scratched across it this time, making the images of his fight flash in your brain. The thought of him beating on random kids without your knowledge gnawed at you. You’d only ever seen him fight 6th and 7th years, some of them were entirely deserving of it but most of them just happened to exist on one of his bad days. Your brain was trying to understand why, but nothing you came up with warranted beating up a 14 year old boy. So again you made your way to his dorm, determined to stop this.

Your knuckles raked at the wood of his door, shoving your way through as soon as it cracked open. “Okay Draco, I know why you’re breaking in to leave me presents but it needs”your sentence caught in your throat as you took in his dirtied room. He was always so clean, never a sweater on his floor, but now pieces of paper, ink and clothes scattered his floor like pixies came through it.

“I’m sorry, I haven’t had a chance to clean up, I’ve been focused on your gifts,” He sighed, he had bags under his eyes like he hadn’t been sleeping, his hair was disheveled and his school clothes were still on. You eyed him as he watched you, the room going so quiet that the silence became a sound of it’s own as you both waited for the other.

“I need to explain,” Draco suddenly spoke, ushering you to his unmade bed, “I promise you I wasn’t just being a bully I-“

“Draco I didn’t come here for an excuse I came here to en-“ You tired to finish your sentence but couldn’t form the words, watching as his eyes left yours to swivel around his room, a telltale sign he was trying not to cry.

“Please, it’s not an excuse. I need to tell you my reasoning and then you can decide to leave me if that’s still what you want. I just- I’m not gonna sit back and watch you leave, we’re the only thing I’ve done correctly and I’m gonna fight for you okay?” Draco knew he was a disappointment, he knew he failed his father, his aunt, his friends, but every time he looked back on his dark days, all he saw was you by his side through it all, you helping him come to the right side, you teaching him to control his anger, you.

“He was talking about you,” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he spoke, “your legs, your waist, what he wanted to do with them.” His throat bobbed as he looked to you, you felt worse than before, bile rising up your throat as Draco continued, “I told him to stop talking, he didn’t, so I warned him, said that if I heard your name from his mouth again I’d beat his ass. He said he could say what he wanted because you’re an adult and he’s a child so he kept on with his friends and I think you know the rest.”

The room was tense with silence, your stomach turned in anxiety, you didn’t know boys that young thought that way, you assumed he was the victim. You felt stupid and naive for wanting to protect a boy who would gladly hurt you if given the chance. You threw yourself into Draco’s arms as tears grew on your lashes.

~~~~

I’ve got some smut writers block right now and can’t think of any scenarios, if anyone has any prompts I’d be so very happy to see them!!!!

-HP Taglist-

@timmytime17 @talia-scar123 @spencer-reids-wife @ttsbaby01 @animorose @whydoireadanymore @thievin-stealing @spiderman-stilinski @evycloudberry @shady-the-simp @ashisabitgay @porterport @callsignwidow @cicicicicisstuff @mattheoriddleswifee @junebugin-july @moonlightreader649 @devotedlyshadowytheorist @rubyliquor @perverteddsdreams @mildly-delulu @fairydimples07 @shadowmoonlight0604 @80scinemvasworld @nevillescomslut @annaisabookworm @abaker74 @athenalikethegoddess @limeren @h-------n @kezibear @mattheoriddlemarcuslopez @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @curiousshifter101 @tobyr68 @spididerman @hedwigprewett12

#draco malfoy x reader #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy headcanon #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy fic #harry potter #hp #harry potter fandom #harry potter oneshot #fluff #harry potter fluff #draco malfoy one shot #yn #slytherin boys #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy x gryffindor #x reader #hp fanfic #hp fluff #harry potter angst #harry potter fanfiction

[saikokirakira]

We're Not Married Yet [Jake Lockley x Reader]

word count: 2.5k

summary: you received nothing but radio silence from your partners for months. one day, jake comes home and calls you by an unknowingly offensive endearment. your insecurity acts up, and jake won't give up control until he fixes it.

a/n: more ANGST. MORE! *insert kylo ren meme* don't worry though. it's just miscommunication. also, it's time for our boy jake to shine and show his simpery. and the thought of this fic came from listening to "porque" by maldita and also finding out that querida is an endearment in spanish. in filipino, it means the complete opposite opposite – a married man's lover/mistress.

warnings: can be standalone; ANGST with fluff ending; hurt and comfort; separation anxiety/fear of abandonment; miscommunication/language barrier; insecurity in a poly-relationship (hinting at my wife layla in the loop as well); jake lockley is a simp and kinda romantically intense; use of chavacano (spanish-creole filipino language) by a non-speaker (so idk how it would translate for jake who is fluent in spanish) (just assume he does understand it lol)

It has been months. Months since Marc woke up and said Khonshu needed him somewhere. He and the god insisted that you stay home after a little mishap got you seriously injured from the last mission. You didn’t argue.

You just wished that there wasn’t any radio silence between you and them. When the first week passed, you managed to find out that they were with Layla, but neither of them bothered to call. They just left you to be the goldfish sitter. Not that you minded that much at first. You knew that Marc was still bothered over the fact that he accidentally killed Real Gus.

During the first month, you thought you were going crazy. You stopped by every day at Steven’s flat to feed the Gus-es and check his tank. Then you’d make yourself some tea and call out, “Do you want one, Steven?” before realizing that you were alone.

Halfway through the third month, you somewhat grew accustomed to the routine. Sometimes, you would spend the night at his flat, not because it was easier – it was harder actually – but because you were afraid that you might forget them. It was a silly thing to worry about, but you didn’t want to be so used by their absence that the feelings would just go away.

You used to have a whole speech on what to yell at them the moment one of them steps through that door, but now… you weren’t quite sure what to say. You’d be lucky if you’d get a word out as a matter of fact. Maybe you could get a slap in.

They came back on the last week of the fourth month.

You just finished cleaning the two Gus’ filter, which probably took longer than you should have. You felt like you were running slow when you woke up that morning. Putting on music on the speakers, you had planned to make a quick sandwich for lunch then curl back in bed.

Bakit sa’yo pa nagkagusto? // Why did I like you out of everyone else?

Parang bula ika’y naglaho // Like a bubble, you disappeared

Between the heavy daze in your mind and the music crooning all over the flat, you didn’t notice at all that the front door swung open. You had your back to him when Jake silently set his newsboy cap and leather gloves on the side. He was very careful that you weren’t holding anything that would injure you or him when he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind.

As expected, you stiffened and immediately relaxed when you recognized that scent. You hated how you still know it too well. The flat had been long cleared of any of their scent after the first month, and you cried about it for a whole night once.

But now, you weren’t sure what to feel. Like you expected, you wouldn’t muster any words. You couldn’t even distinguish the emotions bubbling in the pit of your stomach. Anger, relief, sadness, happiness?

Instead, all you said was “Jake?”

He merely hummed then buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing you in after months away. He didn’t want to let you go, even when you tried to move so you can turn to face him. He immediately felt months’ worth of tension leave his body. That and the soft music playing in the background started to make him aware of his fatigue.

“Let’s go to bed, hm?” you offered, catching the slight tired slump of his shoulders.

Jake hummed in acknowledgement again, but instead of walking normally, his hands moved from your waist to threading your fingers together, swaying you through the music across the apartment. Jake held you close to him as you both continued to sway in the free space near the foot of Steven’s bed. He didn’t understand a word of what the song meant, that is, until the chorus played again.

Bien simple lang I yo tapidi // What I ask is simple

Era cin ti tu el cosa yo ya cin ti // I hope you feel my sorrow

Jake still didn’t understand it completely, but fragments of the lyrics, chosen few of the words, he caught and interpreted the gist of it. He stopped moving and tucked his finger under your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “Is that how you feel, querida?” he asked.

Jake didn’t miss how your eye twitched at the nickname.

You tried to not to let it bother you. You really did. It’s his endearment for you. Jake rarely fronted, and when he did, he was incredibly loving towards you. There was no reason to take offense on what he calls you.

Hiding your discomfort, you buried your face in his chest and continued to sway. “It’s just a song, Jake,” you said. “My playlist is on shuffle.”

Na dimio rezo ta pidi yo // In my prayers, I ask

Era olvida yo contigo // I hope I forget you

“Well, I don’t like it,” Jake said bluntly with a plump pout on his lip. He stopped dancing once again and walked to turn off the speaker. “Let’s go to bed, querida.”

Again, Jake saw you relent but not only after you exhaled in a self-soothing manner. He pulled you under the covers, and you fell asleep within a few minutes. You seemed tired, emotionally drained to the point that you’d sleep to avoid them, and even though Jake was exhausted as well, his worry for you now kept him up.

I told you we were gone too long. Can she no longer stand endearments? Steven piped in their head. Let me have control. I want to talk to her.

“I’ll fix it,” Jake assured him, cutting himself silent when you stirred. He tucked you deeper into the covers and watched the furrow between your brows relax.

Jake will fix it. He always did. That’s why he’s fronting now when the others couldn’t even forcibly take control. Something was wrong.

~

When you woke up a few hours in the late afternoon, you were still tangled up in your boyfriend’s arms. You couldn’t tell who would be out once he woke up, but you were sure that if it were either Marc or Jake, they’d wake up as soon as you sit up in bed. Your thoughts were answered when the grip around your waist tightened when you tried to slither off to the corner of the bed.

“Marc?”

An agitated huff told you that you were mistaken. The sleepy daze immediately wore off. If he was still fronting, something might be wrong. “Is everything okay, Jake?”

“I don’t know, querida. Is there?”

At his pointed question, you immediately closed up. “You’re the one who disappeared for months without contacting me,” you shot back. “I’m surprised you didn’t mail me divorce papers as well.”

“We’re not married yet, querida.”

You scoffed and got out of bed, stomping your way to the kitchen. You took the tea tin and took a bag, then slamming the cabinet shut. It was only until you were filling up the kettle on the faucet did you realise your hands were shaking and tears were dripping on your outstretched arms.

Well, done, Fabio. You really did so well. Marc snarked at Jake from the mirror in front of their bed. Let me out.

“No.”

Let me out! Marc demanded.

Let him out, Jake. Steven pleaded. She needs—

“What? You? Us? Who exactly? We left. Everything will be exactly the same if either of you comes out.”

From the kitchen, you peered at Jake arguing with Marc and Steven from the mirror. There was no doubt they all were concerned now from your outburst. You didn’t even know why you were upset.

Well, you were, are, upset that they disappeared like ghosts for months. What you didn’t understand was why Jake’s endearment bothered you even more. It was an endearment. It’s not like he knew your language that well to deliberately calling you negative names.

Jake was cursing up a fury at the mirror when you silently sat on the spot beside him at the edge of the bed. He immediately stopped staring at his reflection to look at you. Really look at you. That’s one thing you loved about Jake. His gaze made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered to him. More than Khonshu. More than…

You shook the thought from your head. It was absurd to be jealous of your lovers that way. It wasn’t fair to you nor was it fair to them.

“Talk to me,” you said, grasping his hand in between yours.

“You didn’t deserve it. I know you deserve better, but I want you, cariño. You’re all I’ve wanted. I will always come back to you.”

In the background, you heard the electric kettle click itself off, but you were more focused on Jake baring his feelings for you. He was barely around for as long as you knew Marc and Steven, but he had never failed in being sincere with how he felt for you. “I’m sorry,” you sobbed.

Jake’s face fell, and if you could only see what he saw, Marc lowered his eyes in the mirror, while Steven retreated back in the recesses of their mind. Even Khonshu was eerily silent and nowhere to be found, which was odd enough as it is. The god was fond of you in his own way that he kept a safe distance hovering nearby.

“Don’t be,” you said. “I know what I signed up for when I decided to be with an Avatar.” You let out a weak chuckle at the unintentional reference. “Steven would’ve loved that one.”

“Do you wish to talk with him instead, cariño?”

You didn’t miss the hurt that seeped through Jake’s words. You barely spent time with him, and you knew him the shortest. You shook your head and cupped your hands over his cheeks, tilting his head to face you.

The same furrowed brow wrinkled his forehead again, and if it wasn’t for the stiffness in his eyes, the conflicted look behind those brown orbs would’ve easily misled you to think he was Marc. Jake’s hard expression was easily remedied when you pressed a soft kiss on his forehead. The hurt and fear were now exposed, and you had to come clean with your own issues.

“I’m not mad that you left for months,” you said and immediately caught yourself at Jake’s pointed look. “Okay, yes, I was mad, but only during the first month, especially when I found out that you took Layla with you.”

“It wasn’t all us, love.” Steven snuck out for a moment. “But she was also worried that it was too early for you to take this mission on.” His eyes rolled back, and Jake was back, annoyed from those few seconds of being interrupted.

“Sometimes…” you took a deep breath, finding the right words to say, “I feel like I’m just a liability to you guys, you and Layla.”

This time it was Marc who took the wheel. “You can easily put us on our asses, baby,” he laughed softly, trying to lighten your mood. “Sure, we’d put up a fight, but your powers are kinda scary sometimes.”

Your hands pressed against Marc’s chest before gripping his jacket in tight fists as if you were scared that he’d vanish after your next words. “That’s not what I mean, Marc.”

When the realization dawned on his face, Marc immediately cupped your face. “Why on earth would you even think that?” he asked, hurt from your words and from how you felt. “I mean, you were dating Steven when he had no idea of Layla and my existence, and we were even on the verge of divorce by then.” He continued, “and Jake… Well, I think Jake only likes you. That ass only shows up when one of us are dying or when it comes to you.

“And Layla adores you. Otherwise, she didn’t finish our job for us just so we can come back to you,” he added. Swallowing whatever weight that clogged his throat, he finally said, “You’re a part of this crazy relationship whether you like it or not.” Realizing what he accidentally implied, he softly asked, “If… if you were to leave…” He trailed off, his voice ending in a shuddering breath. His shoulder tensed for a split second, and he was gone, overwhelmed from his own fears.

“We will marry you in a heartbeat,” Jake said, grasping your hand. “If that meant you would never leave us.” That wide-eyed gaze he pointed at you showed that he was frighteningly sincere.

But it was quickly cut off with Steven nervously chuckling. “If you would have us, love,” he said. “Of course, consent is key. No need to be psycho about it,” he shot a pointed glance at the mirror.

You exhaled, feeling all the tension and issues wafting away from a single breath. “One thing though,” you stated.

“What is it, querida?” Jake returned, and this time, he finally noticed the twitch in your eye from the endearment he gave you.

“Two things I hate though,” you corrected yourself through gritted teeth. “Call me anything but that word, and propose to me properly. And we won’t have any problems.”

Jake would never admit it but the coldness in your voice and suddenly shifting to a sweet smile after you listed your terms made the hairs on his arms stand a bit.

Later that evening, Jake discreetly looked up what ‘the forbidden endearment’ meant on Steven’s phone. He sucked in a sharp breath at his massive mistake, and a pit formed in his stomach when it sank that he had been accidentally feeding your insecurity all this time. He immediately rushed over to you on the stove and pulled you into his arms.

“Jake! What the—” Unable to pull yourself out of his embrace, you barely managed to reach for the stove and turn the heat to low before you accidentally burn down his flat. “Now barely seems like the time to—”

“You’re the only one for me. I revere you. I fear you. I worship you. Cariño, mi vida, mi corazón​…”

You laughed in the midst of your confusion while Jake pulled you in for a tight hug. “What brought this on?” Your eyes landed on Steven’s phone at the kitchen counter with the latest search page still on display. A more genuine smile tugged at your lips as you buried your face into his chest, embracing his warmth.

“Also, I’m marrying Layla first.”

SMACK!

You barely registered the sting on your bottom when you were pushed away. Steven’s wide-eyed puppy eyes gazed at you in horror. His mouth hung open in surprise as he raised his hands in innocence.

“It wasn’t me. I swear!” Steven cried out. Then he paused, glancing off somewhere. “Jake says he’ll be back once he gets a ring before Layla comes home next week.”

#jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fanfic #can be standalone #bakunawa!reader #bakunawa au

[jynxpsiche]

Finally home

💌. Summary: Hobie has been occupied with different missions and he has stayed away from you for a long time…

or

…when Hobie returns home to you.

💌. Warning: female reader, slight violence, mention of a panic attack, angst and then fluff, grammar errors. English is not my first language! I don’t know many British slangs!

It had been a long time since she had seen Hobie. Almost a week without him. He had been summoned by Miguel for a fairly complicated mission but fortunately one that he and the others could surely solve. Or so Miguel said.

But they were still not back. And Hobie was still with them. They had been gone for too long and she was starting to worry seriously.

(Y/n) knew perfectly well that the boy was able to defend himself thanks to his spider senses and powers, but that did not mean that he could not be injured.

And the worst part could have been him being injured and all alone. No one there to take care of him.

When she thought about that she only worried more, her heart started to beat faster, her anxiety increasing bit by bit, her hands getting really sweaty.

Her mind was getting dizzy, like a thick fog blurring all her thoughts and worries, and that alerted the girl more. Her not being able to being in control even of herself was only making things worse. She had to remain calm, but she couldn't when the only person chasing away all her worries was who knows where doing who knows what.

A shuddering breath left her lips, now as pale as her face. Her eyes were closed tightly, her forehead beaded with cold sweat and her chest was always moving.

Her breathing was laboured, too hurried and frantic. Her hand on her chest felt her heart beat irregularly, without precise coordination with her breathing.

Too many thoughts were piling up in her mind, too clouded by panic and anxiety to really care about them. Her eyes moved in different directions from behind her eyelids, as if she was following something invisible with her gaze covered.

Then suddenly everything ceased. The incessant noise in her ears, the tearing thoughts, the movement of her eyes behind her eyelids, the sweating, the laboured breathing, the irregular heartbeat.

Everything stopped. Her eyes remained closed and her ears perceived a different noise from the one that had reigned in the house for almost a week.

It was a very faint noise, as if something was opening in the air. Something very thin and very light, almost imperceptible.

A loud thud echoed across the floor. (Y/n)’s bare feet felt it clearly. Slowly her eyelids opened and her eyes adjusted to the atmosphere of the room.

With a staggering but light step, the girl crossed the flat until she reached the living room, which was covered in immense darkness. Not even the moonbeams could penetrate that darkness.

But her eyes, once accustomed to the atmosphere, could make out a figure. Someone was in her living room.

Her breath caught in her throat and unconsciously her trembling hand covered her mouth, to avoid attracting the stranger's attention.

Where the fuck was Hobie when he was needed?

The figure remained motionless in the centre of the living room, only a faint wheeze echoed in the room. But still no movement from it, no sound.

But even as the girl remained as still and silent as possible, the figure turned around in the darkness, initially appearing disoriented but then with slow steps began to approach the girl.

A terrified look appeared on her face. Involuntarily she took a step backwards, hitting a chair and making noise.

“I-I don’t know who you are o-or what do you w-want!” She stuttered out terrified, her hands stretched out in front of her as a form of defence.

“P-please…leave me alone!” It was becoming hard for her to breath, her heart thumping so loudly that even the sound arrived in her ears. Tears formed into her eyes.

The figure, hearing the girl's tone of voice, suddenly stopped, a deep choked sound escaped its lips but it ceased immediately.

Afterwards it coughed slightly. "’s me, love...'s me." A familiar male voice mumbled out loud enough for her to recognise the voice.

Another chocked cry left her lips, tears now rolling down her pale cheeks. The male with a groan crouched near her, his knees hitting the ground and slowly he dragged his figure closer to the female’s trembling one.

Big and warm hands gently cupped her face, his thumbs tried to dry the salty tears as best as he could.

Even if it was dark, her blurry vision caught Hobie’s appearance. His suit was ruined and ripped in certain spots. Dry blood also perfectly visible.

His face showed tiredness and fatigue, however his eyes conveyed softness, love but also slight regret. The regret of leaving her there alone for too long, making her worry.

“‘M sorry love, so so sorry. Shouldn’t have left you alone for so long.” He mumbled in caring tone, comforting her and lovingly caressing her face.

“H-Hobie…” she hiccuped, tears still rolling down her face and devastation written all over her face. She really got scared and already thought the worst.

But her lover’s touch immediately calmed her down, now her body just occasionally twitching and her breath still quite heavy.

Lazily, Hobie shook his head, his eyes manifesting all the guilt he was feeling. It was his fault if she had been alone for so long.

When Miguel recruited him and the others for a mission he thought it wasn’t going to be something so complicated. On the contrary, one of those easy mission he usually assigned to them. Because for Miguel they were just alborotadores. [troublemakers.]

A weak groan left his lips when suddenly he was met with (Y/n)’s crushing embrace, wanting to show him how much she had missed him. Even if he already knew that.

Softly Hobie pecked her head, his arms now wrapping around her smaller figure. “‘M so sorry love…I had to be quicker…” he mumbled quietly, his soul still heavy with regret.

He should have finished that damned mission faster and come home to her.

“You don’ deserve to be treated like this. Darling, you deserve more, so much more.”

The hero was expressing his deepest insecurities to her. He always thought that she only was worthy of someone who could shower her with love, not worry her constantly and always be there for her.

And Hobie knew that he couldn’t always fulfill these requests, only because he had different dimensions to take care of.

But for him, his main priority would always be (Y/n).

His train of thoughts had been interrupted by a little movement coming from the girl in his arms. She was slowly shaking her head in denial.

“…no…” she murmured lowly “…I don’t deserve anyone else…’cause you’re the only one I truly want…” her big glossy eyes were looking up at him.

“I only want to be with you ‘cause you’re the only one who can shower me with infinite love, who will always be here for me when I need and who can comfort me like a pro.”

Her voice was quite raspy but still music for his ears, and those words made his heart melt completely.

He surely didn’t deserve her.

A heartily chuckle left his lips, his face now more relaxed. “Love you s’much, love.” He murmured, pecking lovingly at her lips.

She pecked him back, a small grin on her lips. “I love you more, Hobie.”

— bonus !

“Love, y’know I can tend my wounds…” Hovie hissed breathily when the cotton pad was placed on a rather big cut on his arm.

“Shut the fuck up and let me be the good and caring girlfriend I am.” (Y/n) barked back in a second, her attentive gaze never leaving the injury.

At her words, his chest trembled with a loud laugh.

“My bad. I forget you’re also ma personal nurse.” A teasing smirk was plastered on his face.

In response she simply stuck her tongue out at him.

“Then I also think I need a special treatment, right doc?”

“I’m going to hurt you more Hobie. You better shut your trap.”

The smirk widened. He leaned his face closer to her ear.

“Make me.”

#hobie x reader #hobie brown #hobie brown atsv #atsv #spider punk #spider man: across the spider verse #hobie x you #hobie x y/n #hobie brown x reader

[maehemthemisfit]

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐄

ask — Can I ask you that the reader 💋 them while they are 😥 and 💙 in order to 😇 them, (I really hope this makes sense) Characters: Scaramouche & Xiao (This is my first time requesting something, hopefully I did it right ☠️) - requested by @oddshroom

a/n — this took me so unbelievably long to write but I'm working on my emoji asks now! okay so apparently I have no self control when it comes to writing scara so this ended up being 3k instead of 500≤1k so I'm making this separate from the xiao's. also dw love, you did it absolutely right so it was clear and concise <3

pairing — [ scaramouche x gn!reader + 💋 kissing them while they're 😥 having a nightmare and 💙 playing with their hair in order to 😇 comfort them]

edited by: my homegirl @xiao6ao

masterlist / xiao post / emoji prompt list

Since when was the melody of screams this unpleasant? Or perhaps, maybe it was never a sweet tune to begin with.

The crackling of fire howled and filled his ears, yet he watched silently as the flames ate away at the wooden structure, devouring the joyous memories he created there. Ashes sprinkled the blazing air, scurrying around like fire flies and filling his lungs.

His breathing was shallow, huffs of air spilling from his chest and reminding him of how human he seemed. But he could never be human, not when his chest was but a hollow cavern, overflowing with nothing but broken dreams and empty promises. His fingers trembled beside him, and subconsciously, he backed away from the dazzling light.

Why was he afraid? How could he be afraid? After all, he was the one who’d started the fire.

"N-No..." Scaramouche whispered, his eyes widened in disbelief as he took in the scene before him. "This... this already happened. Why am I seeing this again?" He looked to his palms— a desperate attempt at gathering his sense of self— but upon seeing his old attire, he found himself inarticulate.

This can't be. It was like he was back to being—

"Kunikuzushi," That voice... that was- "Why did you do this?" The child cried, clutching a familiar doll to his chest. It was threaded with such precision and care, casting in his mind a fond memory of the weeks he spent learning how to sew such a thing with his past friend.

Then the sight of the child’s charred skin hit him, and the endearing thought was discarded. He looked just as he did so long ago— sick, fragile.

But his eyes, oh his eyes told another story.

Scaramouche remembered his eyes, always full of wonder and curiosity, much like his own when he was just a fledgling. Those eyes that would beam up at him as the child tugged him away to a new discovery. Those eyes that would melt close as a smile formed on the child's lips. Those eyes, that were now boring holes into his own, absent of life and that childlike glee he was once accustomed to. Those eyes that were now swirling with fear, fear that was now directed at him.

"I didn't—!!" Scaramouche found himself choking, misery seeping into the depths of his chest and pouring out into his voice. He felt utterly nauseous at the sight before him, heaving breaths of uncertainty as hot tears began to spill from his indigo hues.

Shakily, he brought a hand to his mouth, searching for the words he wanted to say. "I didn't mean to... you- you broke your promise..."

The child took a step back, "Promise? What promise?" The puppet’s brows furrowed at the confusion on the child’s face, the air getting all the more jeering— threatening to strangle him— the longer they spoke.

"You said we were family. You said you would never abandon me," Scaramouche recalled. Abandon. Just the word sizzled and left a bitter taste on his tongue.

It wasn't fair, it wasn't fair at all.

“I didn’t abandon you,” the boy managed to retort, his voice scarcely a rasp. “I died!” He choked on a fit of coughs as he succumbed to the illness both his parents fell to.

Abandon… die…

Those were two completely different words, were they not? Yet, somehow, the discarded creation had found the two synonymous. The concept of death was still foreign to him all those years ago, and the timing was impeccable, as if someone were pulling the strings to all his misfortune. One betrayal after another. It was a deadly recipe of disaster that bubbled over into impulsive decisions and, finally, the roaring flames before him.

And now, he could only witness this village burn all over again— brick by brick, plank by plank— and watch the terror in the eyes of the one he called his friend, of the people he held close to where his heart should be, resurface from ashes long gone.

Damn it. It's not fair. It's not fair at all.

Another staggering step, and the flames began clawing at the child’s leg, searing deeper into his already charred skin. "Wait! Please!" Scaramouche shouted, lunging forward towards the kid now set ablaze and embraced in the wild, untamed fire. “Don’t leave me—" No, not “—again.”

But it was all in vain. He pleaded. He cried. He called, yet no one came.

His fingers crossed the child's, the doll slipping from the child's grasp and into the desperate puppet's hands. And without skipping a beat, the child burst into cinders before his eyes.

The ground kissed his knees as he collapsed, trembling hands digging into the veil that did little to shield him from the raging light. Within seconds, it was torn to shreds and soaked in the tears that he bled.

He wept, voice barely above a whisper. "Why couldn't it have been me…" Those tears, those pathetic emotions he harbored, why couldn't they stop? Why did it hurt so bad? Why did everyone leave him?

A dry, forced chuckle passed his lips that were drenched with the downpour from his eyes. He wiped them.

"Maybe I am just some faulty being." He looked up at the stars that watched in silence above him, ignoring his pleas for help. Gods… humans… even the stars were nothing but lies.

It was only then that a sensation ran down his neck, causing him to flinch from the sudden sense of touch. He whimpered despite trying his best not to, yet what he felt wasn't in the slightest unpleasant.

He leaned into it, eyes growing heavy with whatever was circling his skin, the pain that drenched him before growing numb as the flow of his tears drew softly to a stop. He felt small, yet safe under this eerie yet familiar touch, like an angel was embracing him and shielding him away from the tragedies that plagued the world.

A trickle of hope poured into him, flooding a soothing warmth through the chest that had been poisoned by a twisting ache. His fist unraveled the tattered veil, his hands now clinging onto something more plush and soft, though he couldn't see.

It told him he was fine. He was safe. He was sound.

Sound?

The air caught his mind, now devoid of the screams that smothered him just moments before. Even the crazed laments of the fire ceased, replaced by the quiet pitter patter of falling droplets— none of which he felt.

What he did feel was something soft showering his face, warm and featherlike, and another delicate touch swaying back and forth over his cheek, creating a peaceful harmony within his settling mind.

Despite the heaviness in his limbs, he pulled himself closer, his legs rubbing against silky fabric instead of the ashened ground of what had once been his home. His arms drew himself closer against whatever was bringing him comfort, the sound of something beating surprisingly washing away the rest of his worries. He drifted far away from the panic that once overcame him, the raging storm in his head now reduced to calm waves of water, carrying him safely back to reality into the arms of an angel.

His eyes, tired and spent, fought to open. His vision made out from blurring colors the sight of another person laying beside him. They leaned into him, and he felt the same featherlike sensation on his forehead. A voice he recognized— he had yet to decipher the words— filled his ears.

It was…

Before his eyes could fully adjust, he was already curling against your chest, fingers softly grabbing your shirt and tugging like his life depended on it. In an instant, the world came rushing in, his lungs breathing in the calming air of the small apartment you shared.

He was fine. He was safe. He was with you.

He called your name, his voice cracking as a groan slipped past him, muffled by his face pressing into you. Memories of his nightmare crashed back in restless waves, threatening to drown him once again. He coughed, attempting to speak through labored breaths.

"I s-saw… my, I-'' Scaramouche hiccuped, his body starting to shake like the harsh winters of Snezhnaya was biting through his porcelain skin.

“Shhh, shhh, it’s okay, take your time.” You were quick to silence him, whispering affirmations in the mist of night for only his ears to hear. He clutched onto you tighter. “It’s okay love, I’m here.”

After the countless years of suffering the puppet endured, he wasn’t fond of being touched by any living being— at least, not after all the torturous poking and prodding he was subjected to during Dottore’s experiments, whilst promises of “making him stronger” or “unlocking his true divinity” fell on deaf ears as he withered in pain.

But you? He couldn’t help but melt under your irenic touch, something that was foreign to him for decades. It took awhile for him to adjust to your displays of affection, but eventually your arms became his new safe haven, something that was all apparent now as you rubbed gentle strokes against his back, the sobs that were born from his horrid dream now dying down to soft sniffles and hums.

The moon glowed in all its glory in the blanket of night, illuminating the two lovers cuddled closely together like birds in a nest. Its silver glow became sparkles in the stray tears that spilled over his cheeks, your hands calmly wiping them as they fell. He came to realize over some time that the featherlike touches he felt prior were you pressing kisses to his face.

The moon came and fled as the sun put it to rest, painting the darkened skies in shades of blue and red. Its rays glimmered, peaking through the window and shedding its warmth on the both of you. By then, the wandering puppet’s tear stained cheeks were dried, his breathing leveled, and eyes half lidded, swirling with bouts of serenity.

Your hand was idly playing with his hair, gently combing through and dividing pieces that fell across his face. A comfortable silence filled the air, only penetrated by the whisper that flew past your lover’s lips, calling your name. You hummed as his hand slowly crept from under the covers, reaching out to grab yours from his strands and bringing it to his chest. His warm breath tickled your skin when he sighed, the feeling being overthrown when his lips kissed the back of your palm, lingering for nearly a minute.

“Do you…” He spoke softly, still firmly holding onto you, yet his voice sounded far off, eyes distant and hazy. “Do you think I’m evil?”

The question dripped from his lips like dew to a leaf, dropping into your ears for your brain to soak it in. Melancholy sprouted from it, growing vines that entangled your heart.

The word evil ran through your head, such a harsh term to describe someone, you scrutinized. Could you really compare the word to the former harbinger lying across from you? Perhaps his past actions, but…

Do evil people cry genuine tears? Do evil people feel remorse for their wicked deeds? What truly defines evil anyway?

The fluttering of wings fanned your clouded thoughts, your answer becoming clear along with the sound of birds chirping. You tugged at the vines clenching your heart, ripping them with ease as you looked at the man in question.

“Doing good things doesn’t make you a good person,” you imparted, staring honestly into his alluring eyes. He listened intently as you spoke, hanging off of every word like a puppet to a string. “And doing bad things doesn’t make you a bad person either.”

The foggy look in his eyes finally cleared.

“I think you experienced the worst parts of the world before you could understand the beauty of it, which led to your notorious doings.” You adjusted your hand to hold his, and he gave you a gentle squeeze as your thumb caressed circles into his. “But if we look back to your ‘previous incarnation’ without your memories, or your titles before Balladeer, would you call them evil as well? Would the people who knew you then describe you in such a way?”

The question floated in the air. A quizzical frown assuming the puppet’s features. For a second, he was back in his dream again— images of fire and ash tainting his mind. He remembered those eyes that were swirling with fear, anxiety threatening to crawl up his spine again.

He was fine. He was safe. He was…

“I didn’t abandon you,” The child's voice played back in his head, oddly sounding more soft compared to the voice he heard in his dream. Another recollection filled his thoughts— it was the sight of the child pulling him eagerly, a wide grin adorning his chubby cheeks, a giggle followed by his own filling the air as he allowed the kid to guide him to some growing lavender melons.

"I- I can't reach it. Awhh," The child pouted, looking away from the tree dejectedly.

"They are pretty high up," Scara- no, Kunikuzushi observed, bringing a hand to his chin. "You'll be able to reach them if I give you a lift though."

"Really? Oh thank you, thank you, thank you! You're really the best ya know, and d-don't forget it either!" The child cheered, jumping up and down in his small burst of excitement before calming down. He tired easily, no matter what he did.

"I'm the best? But I'm just a mere—"

The small mortal coughed weakly, balling his fist right after and shouting a heartfelt declaration. "Puppet this, puppet that. You're a good person and you're a good friend. There's no if, ands, or buts about it,"

He couldn't help but reciprocate the child's smile.

"I- I guess you have a point," Kunikuzushi hummed, his face blooming a pretty pink as he tried to hide under his veil. "You know… you sound a lot like an old friend of mine.”

The memory faded as quick as it came, his shoulders now relaxed and expression thoughtful. You assumed he reached the same answer as you.

They wouldn't call him evil. Never in a million years.

“I couldn’t either," You answered his thoughts, bringing your hand back to card through his hair. "Which is why I don't think you're the monster you make yourself out to be."

He wanted to laugh, but he found himself without a voice. All those questions he aimlessly sought answers to. He’d even asked the God of Wisdom the same thing, yet her answer was quite different from yours. But could he really take your words to heart— or hold it above the words of a god? Would her answer change if he asked her again? Would your answer change if he wronged you?

He was fine. He was safe. He was good.

The sounds of rain dwindled as the critters of light rustled away, chirping and hollering to the sun’s presence. By now, its light blanketed you both, whisking off the drowsiness as you rubbed your eyes. You were in the midst of calling your lover’s name when his fingers wrapped around your leg, pulling it over his hip to bring you close once again.

He cupped your face, your eyes instinctively closing as his lips embraced yours, the warmth of his touch enough to rival the sun and the shine of the moon. No celestial body could reap what the two of you had sown beautifully together.

You held his past, present, and future, carried his vices and virtues, wiped his tears and tore down his walls even when he built them up too high.

You stayed, even when he couldn't give you his heart.

He was enough, you reminded him proudly each day. He was safe. He was fine. He was loved.

"I love you," Scaramouche found himself mumbling against your lips, breathing out a content sigh when the two of you finally parted.

It was the first time he initiated such a declaration, and while he'd never admit how much it affected him, the shy smile carved into his face spoke it well enough. His passionate gaze lit a thousand flames in your soul and it was your turn to fall into the rabbit hole of his beauty.

With another quick kiss, you touched your foreheads together, your voice a lullaby to his ears as you chimed the words that always made him feel something skip a beat in his chest.

"I love every part of you, and never forget that," you huffed, feigning a pouty expression to entice a smile— which he effortlessly gave.

"Don't worry, I won't," he laughed heartily this time, making an effort to find your hand and intertwining your pinkies. He brought them to his chin, pecking the side of your hand once more. "I promise."

TAGLIST — @sonder-paradise @96jnie @scaramouchenumber1fan @linn-a-a @wisteriaflowersss @ineriris @yesntforno @serramii @shadowmist0706 @jmgrule @imeanwatever @c00kie-cat @xtodorokismistressx @ieathairs @endlessmari @strawberryclumsy @serenity-ren-bliss

reblogs appreciated (⁠っ⁠.⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠っ

#scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #wanderer #genshin wanderer #genshin scaramouche #wanderer x reader #wanderer x y/n #xiao x reader #emoji prompts #kunikuzushi genshin #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x you #kunikuzushi x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin xiao #xiao #genshin fluff #scaramouche fluff #genshin #genshin impact x reader #fluffvember 2022 #genshin fanfic #answered 💌 #genshin impact #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin scaramouche x reader #[🌺] mae ｡・⁠｡ talks genshin ♡⁠˖♪

[lets-try-some-writing]

Yesterday, I had to do my Earth Science Regents, and the first question was about gravity. That made me wonder…

How does Earths Gravity affect the Team? How does it differ from Cybertrons Gravity?

Thank You!

Well look at that, more world building. Nice!

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙

Gravity on Cybertron was an interesting thing. Cybertronians are an incredibly large and heavily built species. As such their world is gargantuan and has much greater gravity to support them. Back on Cybertron their gravity was simply a fact of life, it was normal. Most never reached the stars, and there were only a few odd places underground that had differences in gravitational effect. Overall they assumed what they endured was perfectly normal and were totally at ease with the effort it took to move and generally get around. However when the great exodus occurred and the remaining Cybertronians took to the stars, those that came to Earth were in for a surprise.

Those that had been to the stars were used to weightlessness, but it was just as common as the intense gravity of Cybertron when all things were considered. Earth's gravity however was FAR less heavy than Cybertron's yet not without gravity like in the depths of space. The immediate response to this was absolute panic and chaos. Team Prime were trained warriors and veterans of increadible skill. They were made to adapt, but there were quite a few difficulties before they got used to the world they now resided on.

Bumblebee was used to having to run his engines on incredibly high setting in order to achieve the speed needed to get from point A to point B. Along those same lines, he was also used to having to carry around days worth of energon rations so that he could maintain the force needed to move through the slog that was Cybertron's gravity at the needed speed. But upon arriving on Earth, his usual training when flying out the window when he threw himself into his alt mode and took on the speed he tended to fall to. Instead of moving at a reasonable pace, Bumblebee was sent careened across the landscape so quickly that he immediately spun out of control, doing roughly three flips through the air before he landed on a building. The team could only watch on in horror as Bumblebee attempted to get up only to move with speed he wasn't used to, promptly leading him to skid out of the rubble in his root mode and trip over his pedes. The speed needed to move at a casual pace on Cybertron was more than enough to cause the average bot to lose control.

Arcee ran into a similar problem with controlling her speed, but her main issue came when she tried to get used to her blades again. Her attacks came far quicker than she was used to with the use of the same amount of power she was accustomed to. In order to conserve energy and not tear something to shreds, she had to lower her power output. However that in turn meant that as soon as she lost focus, Arcee turned into a burned ball of rubber in alt mode or a spinning set of blades. There were several times were she got frustrated in the beginning and ended up flying against the nearest wall in her alt mode or overshooting by an increadible margin when sparring.

Bulkhead adjusted quicker to the change in gravity due to how heavy set he already was. His biggest issue was grip control considering how much easier it was to break things when he didn't need to expend nearly as much strength to do so. He would march along with the strength he normally used and ended up breaking holes into the floor. In the beginning he would even try to reach for an energon cube only for it to explode into a mess of goo for the same reason. He became a beast on the battlefield with how much easier it was to take a swing, but in turn he also took a long time to get used to being sent flying at any severe hit. Cybertron didn't have that issue, and in fact it war harder to get any solid air when needed.

Cliffjumper had the easiest time dealing with the shift in gravity. He was more accustomed to having to swap around his movement and speed. However his issues came when he tried to push the boundaries a little too far and test the limits of what he could do on a foreign world. Some tricks simply don't work as well with less gravity, including several flips and other parkour moves. Many times Cliffjumper leapt down from a short drop off with the intention to tuck and roll and immediately get back up, as the more oppressive gravity on Cybertron allowed due to how it limited excessive kinetic energy. But on Earth, such an attempt always left him spinning like a pinwheel across the ground, getting dirt and grime in every seam of his plating. Trying to do flips became far easier, but the resulting landing similarly left him reeling since he always tried to stiffen up, expecting gravity to keep him stable.

Ratchet for his part didn't suffer much due to the difference in gravity. The hardest thing for him was remastering his motor control, which was an overall quick process. However there were a few notable incidents where he picked up a scalpel only to crush it by accident or when he attempted to work a fine machine only to instead destroy delicate wiring. It drove him up the wall, but he spent increadible amounts of time adjusting in private so as to not make a scene. As such none knew of the various explosions that came in the wake of his efforts to work with chemicals without proper control of his servos. The only one who suspected a thing was Optimus, and that was only because the Prime was quick to notice the absence of certain materials and the presence of scorch marks instead.

Optimus for his part was similarly quick to adjust, and in fact his biggest problem came from his attempts to leap and attack that way. He was used to having to throw his entire frame into every jump and leap before then having to put his very spark into the effort of climbing and firing. The most height he got on Cybertron was a few feet, but suddenly on Earth he was sent careening through the air with enough power to make him momentarily wonder if he'd sprouted wings. Several times he tried to jump on the battlefield only to go flying through the air like a bullet. There were also instances were he would attempt to do a short skip to reach something only to crash into the thing he was attempting to grab. Ratchet lamented Optimus's adjustment period greatly.

Earth's gravity was so much lighter, and in turn gave the bots that much more power and speed. But in return their control and ability to move normally suffered greatly for it. Thankfully the children never witnessed their blunders.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #cybertronian biology #team prime #optimus prime #ratchet #bumblebee #arcee #bulkhead #cliffjumper #earth is wild for many reasons #but big bots being sent flying is a big contributor to the fear factor #none of them will ever live down being shot through the air like a tennis ball because of low gravity

[vantediary]

can’t control it - masterlist

𖥸 pairing: non!idol Seonghwa —> non!idol Mingi x f!reader

𖥸 warnings: playboys! Mingi and Seonghwa, mentions of depression, abuse, anxiety (including panic attacks), use of alcohol (in some occasions even heavy amount),

Seonghwa: toxic relationship with reader, abuse of power, gaslighting, a literal angel at the beginning of the relationship then he becomes an asshole (yk, classic toxic behavior), smut (for which I will give detailed warning per each chapter).

Mingi: extremely lonely and depressed Mingi, he suffers from anxiety, love at first sight w reader, just a giant baby full of love to give but also craving to be loved just as much, but also (obviously) a sexy ass mf who knows he is.

Reader: suffers from panic disorder (a sub-disorder from the anxiety spectrum).

𖥸 Taglist: @yunhwalala @sofiagastaldo

ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ

From the moment you laid eyes on Park Seonghwa, you knew he was trouble. He had a reputation as a notorious playboy and you never imagined yourself being with someone like him.

You were hesitant at first, intimidated by the stereotype of a man who played the field and never settled down. But as you got to know him, you couldn't resist the strong attraction you felt towards him. His confidence and charming personality drew you in and despite your reservations about his past, you took a chance and started dating him.

In the beginning, he was the epitome of the perfect partner you had always envisioned. He showered you with love and respect, always put your happiness above his own, and made you feel like the most important person in the world.

He vowed to leave his womanizing ways behind and promised to be devoted to you forever. You were swept off your feet and felt like you had finally found the one you had been searching for all your life. You dreamed of a future filled with love, happiness, and endless possibilities, and you were convinced that you had found your happily ever after.

As the days went by, you began to observe a change in his behavior towards you. Initially, he was caring and considerate of your needs and desires, but gradually, you noticed a shift in his attitude. He became more self-centered and stopped paying attention to your feelings and emotions.

You started feeling neglected and lonely, but you couldn't bring yourself to admit it. You tried to convince yourself that everything was still the same, but deep down, you knew that something had changed.

Despite your efforts to ignore the situation, you couldn't help but feel a growing sense of dissatisfaction and unhappiness in your relationship, until…

**

Seonghwa and Mingi had been good friends for a long time, but there was always a sense of competition between them.

Seonghwa had been accustomed to sharing everything with his best friend, Mingi. However, when he met you, he saw an opportunity to have someone to call his own. He was captivated by your interest in him and him only and was determined to make you his, without sharing you with anyone else. Seonghwa was willing to go to great lengths to ensure that you didn't leave him, as he couldn't bear the thought of making his friend win.

That’s when, upon discovering your romantic interest towards Mingi, which was fully reciprocated by him, your partner's demeanor changed drastically. His true nature was revealed, showcasing his possessive, angry, and selfish tendencies.

It was as if a switch had been flipped, and his behavior towards you took on a much darker tone. The situation became increasingly uncomfortable as these negative behaviors continued to manifest themselves, causing a great deal of stress and anxiety for you and Mingi.

… Until, one fine day, Seonghwa approached you and Mingi with a deal. He promised to prove that he was the better man and would satisfy you in ways that Mingi never could. He was confident in his abilities and believed he could win you over.

Despite his claims, it became apparent that Seonghwa's selfish nature and his desire to be the one in control would always come before your happiness.

Will things really go his way? Or will he lose again to his friend Mingi for the last time?

ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ

Chapter 1 — coming soon…

ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ

Disclaimer 1: some topics in this story could be heavy for some, reader’s discretion is advised.

Disclaimer 2: there won’t be any pressure in writing this. I don’t want to force myself into a schedule, otherwise my poor adhd brain will feel obligated to write even if I don’t feel like it, but I’ll try to do my best anyway and work on it between breaks at work and when I’m at home.

Disclaimer 3: I am not a psychologist, so please be mindful that there will be mistakes while going through topics such as anxiety, depression and just the overall abuse that will disclose in this story.

ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ ʚɞ

all rights reserved © vantediary

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez imagines #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #mingi x reader #mingi smut #mingi scenarios #seonghwa scenarios #atiny

[tartigglez]

"hear you?" part.2

zhongli x f!reader

・❥・smut with plot

・❥・2.9k

・❥・16+ masturbation (mutual?), implied voice kink, degradation (light), explicit consent in multiple places, nipple play?, just a lot of making out, you get picked up, pull out method (wear protection guys), the knee thing (lmao i had to), fangs? (does that need a warning?), scars (on zhongli), kinda just mean dom!!li in places, biting/sucking but hickeys aren't mentioned, oral sex, he's a dom, very much a dom, i think that's it (lmk)

・❥・ i'm sorry this took so incredibly long lmao

part.1

he was a patient man, zhongli, but he was reaching a breaking point with this. nearly every night, hearing his damned business associate in the back of his mind. it was so obvious you wanted him, you craved him, and he was starting to feel that way too. he had begun getting needy for you, thinking of doing unspeakable things with you. 

he’d been hearing it for days, which turned into weeks, which turned into it being absolutely unbearable to wait any longer…

saturday nights were when you were the loudest, and were when he was able to be the roughest with himself. zhongli could hear you already touching, and he honestly felt a little perverted, even though he ought to be accustomed to this routine of his by now. 

he would usually sit down at his desk in the early evening to read, glasses resting on the tip of his nose as he quietly sipped from a delicate teacup with one hand, the other holding his book. however, on this particular day, you seemed to be especially eager, as you had started your little nightly routine more than a few hours early. 

he was trying hard to keep his focus, not wanting to get distracted from the piece of literature in his hand, but archons it was hard. your sweet, playful voice was just so enticing. the way you spoke - the things you said about him - it was unlike the way anyone else had ever referred to him. it was, of course, more longing, lustful. but it was also melodic, in a way which he had never heard before. 

the sing-song of strung together moans and whimpers emanating from you proved to be overwhelming for him, his cock hardening, somewhat opposing the self control he had convinced himself he had developed… 

archons, it felt so incredibly good to you. one hand in your underwear, gently swiping your fingertips over your clit as the other gripped at your pillow. the more you thought about him, the more you wanted him, the more you craved him. when was this going to end? he would be the death of you. thinking of him, his carved features, large palms, adams apple bobbing as he spoke in that entrancing, dark cocoa voice…  

the quiet moans escaping your lips quickly halted as a knock on the front door interrupted your pleasure. someone was seriously disrupting you at this time in the evening? have people nothing to do? 

at first you ignored it, and the person did seem to stop, but it started again after a few moments. you got up from your bed, sheets scrunched and pyjamas wrinkled as you made your way to the door. you would have sincerely hoped you didn’t look as though you had just been committing yourself to certain activities, but you were past the point of caring. 

you slowly creaked the door open, feeling rather passive aggressive at whatever this anonymous annoyance could want with you. however, these feelings faded as your eyes met his. amber irises greeting you, staring into your very soul. his usually tied hair was now draped over his shoulders, messy, but free. he was in a stripped down version of his normal work attire, crisp formal trousers being overlapped at the waist by an untucked black dress shirt, with several buttons undone at the collar. his jewellery had been removed, but his makeup remained. his plump lips were still stained rosy pink, and his eyeliner was sharp.

“zhongli?” you questioned, attempting to straighten your posture upon seeing your business associate. what on earth would he be doing here when you-

“y/n. do you still want it?” he asked, mahogany voice coming closer to you as he leaned down a little, closer to your face, leaning against the doorframe. 

“still want… what?” you furrowed your brows, confused, yet somewhat worried by the question.

“me” he answered, thumb and index finger gripping your chin as he tilted your head up to him, coming scarily close to your face. “are you going to back out, dear? or will you let me take care of you?”

“w-what do you mean? I-” you could feel a swarm of butterflies growing in your stomach at his actions. puzzled, but not scared. had you fallen asleep? there was no way this was actually happening. you met his eyes once again, and witnessed a passion. a burning need that you had never seen from any other person in your life. it was inhuman. 

in that very moment, you found yourself nodding your head, approving his actions as he gripped your waist with his free hand, stepping forward and into your home as you took steps back. he kicked the door closed, banishing the cooling evening air from your home as he pulled you close to him, fingertips gripping you as he moved his hand from your chin to the side of your neck. 

“tell me if it gets too much, alright?” his stoic face softening as he caressed your cheek with his thumb. you nodded as he moved his head down to kiss you, lips meeting yours in an immediate rough, vicious kiss. his tongue made its way into your mouth as he moved to push you against the wall in your hallway, hands feeling you all over, making their way up the back of your pyjama top. he pulled away slightly, biting your lower lip gently as you felt the contact of his warm palm against the small of your back. 

he then moved his lips to the nape of your neck, not wasting any time and immediately biting and sucking, aiming to find a sweet spot that he could take advantage of later. he placed a gentle kiss against your skin, pulling away to place both his hands on your waist.

“so tell me,” he began, nothing more than a mere whisper against your skin. his breath was warm, but his skin was still a little cold, since he had made his way here in the crisp night air. “Which way is the bedroom?”

you pursed your lips, exhaling and pointing towards your bedroom door. he grabbed you by the hand, quickly leading you into your room, once again closing the door behind himself, before turning over and pinning you against it, wrapping one of his hands to the back of your thigh, just below the plush of your ass as he kissed you again. this time was somehow even rougher than before, tongues dancing as saliva dripped down both of your chins. his other hand suddenly moved to mirror the previous one, making its way to the other thigh, as you were picked up all of a sudden, and shifted to the bed. 

he laid you down gently, lips once again making contact with your neck as he hovered over you, allowing you to tangle your hands in the hair that tickled the other parts of your neck. his canines were so long and sharp you could’ve almost sworn they were fangs, nibbling at your neck. he moved his knee between your thighs, cock hardening as he heard you gasp at the friction. 

“is this okay?” he questioned, tugging at the hem of your pyjama top once he had pulled away from your neck. he helped you sit up as you nodded, slowly pulling your top off, exposing your breasts to him, perky nipples displayed in the evening sunlight coming through the shades. 

he smiled gently, his teeth being revealed, and you could’ve sworn you were hallucinating, but it really did look like he had fangs. “you're far more beautiful than i could’ve ever imagined” he let out a breathy laugh as he spoke, moving his mouth to make contact with one of your breasts. 

at first he just licked and sucked around the flesh, however he then moved his focus to your nipple, swirling his tongue around it. one hand was in use supporting himself, as the other played with the drawstring of your shorts. 

he wished he could be patient, and he was trying his hardest, but it was getting harder and harder to resist you after waiting for all this time. he kissed his way back up to your mouth, as you wrapped your arms around his neck. this would only be nice for a while though, you were both growing desperate, and the atmosphere between you - quiet whimpers and short breaths shared as the two of you refused to stop kissing - was becoming thick.

you moved your hands to the buttons of his shirt, never breaking the contact of your lips on his. one by one, you pulled each fastener out of its respective loop, baring his chest to yourself. he then broke the kiss, leaning up to pull his shirt off, displaying his top half to you. 

your earlier fantasies were true. his skin was clad with scars, beautiful etches of stories across his chest. however, you wouldn’t be allowed much time to observe, as he near immediately dipped his head slightly below your right breast, kissing his way down towards the waistband of your bottoms. his glazed eyes looked up to you for permission, calmly watching as you nodded your head. 

“i’m going to require words from now on, alright?” he whispered gently against the skin of your lower stomach, rubbing one of your thighs with his free hand. “please, zhongli… please touch me there” you whimpered, barely caring about how embarrassingly helpless you sounded. he pushed himself up, supporting himself on one arm as he hooked a finger into your shorts, pulling the waistband up slightly, before snapping it back against your skin. not enough to hurt, but enough to let you know that he was in control. 

“hm, where is that, i wonder?” he mocked, slowly pulling your shorts down, leaving you with nothing under, exposing your wet cunt to the air. “huh, nothing under? dirty girl” he chuckled a little, airy but somewhat weighted. zhongli moved his mouth to one of your thighs, blatantly ignoring your request for stimulation. he kissed and sucked gently at the skin, trying so hard to disregard his growing, painful erection, which was becoming ever the more problematic each time you let out a breathy whine. 

“is it here?” he asked, slowly running a finger up your slit, and back down again. “i asked a question dear,” the remark flew off his tongue, “it’s only polite to answer” he chuckled, moving up your inner thigh to get his mouth closer to your core. “yes, there,” you whined, tempted to buck your hips up to his face. “good.” he spoke, and that was the last thing he said before sinking his head into your sloppy cunt. 

you didn’t know it was possible for someones tongue to feel this good. he was so incredibly skilled, long muscle dipping in and out of your opening every so often. although his focus was on your clit. sucking and licking at the sensitive nub, zhongli only wished to see your reaction. he wanted you to say his name, the way you had been for all these weeks. 

“quiet now, are we?” he ceased his action, gently rubbing up and down one of your thighs with his thumb.

“come on my dear, let the whimpers out. say my name, like you mean it,” 

and so he returned his attention to your cunt, going much harder and faster than before, as you whimpered at him, moans flying in all directions as you writhed under him, bouncing off the walls of the room. “zhongli~ please” you whimpered, moving your hand down into his hair, gripping gently on the strands at the crown of his head. 

once again he stopped, staring up at you, eyes glowing. “please what?” he questioned, raising himself up on his palms again, crawling back up towards your face. he cocked his head to the side, watching as you eyed his lower half, witnessing the visible tent in his trousers. “why so quiet now, when you were so, so loud before, princess?” he lowered his head back to your chest, placing a few kisses across your breasts, repeating his earlier actions. “simply tell me you want me, and i’m all yours” he spoke, then stopping to suck on one of your nipples again.

"i- i want you…” you whispered at him, and nothing more was said, he simply got back on his knees, undid his belt, and pulled it out of its loops. He threw his belt on the floor, before getting up, unbuttoning his trousers and stepping out of them, then removing his boxers too. he was swift in his actions. in other words, he was done with wasting time. 

his cock was thick, girthy, long too. and it was made obvious by the shade that he’d been hiding his hard-on for some time, putting it off in order to please you. 

“it’s so…” you trailed off, as he got back on the bed, placing an arm on either side of your head before leaning down to kiss you. “i know,” he spoke quietly “we’ll go slow, does that sound alright?” his voice was soft, gently calming you as he lifted a hand to move down your body, stopping at your waist for a split second, before trailing down your thigh, and then on to his own body, grabbing his cock and giving a few strokes, before he lined up with your entrance. he keenly watched you as he slowly, but surely pushed himself inside. you felt perfect to him, fitting him inside perfectly. he finally bottomed out after some moments, keeping an eye on your face to ensure you felt okay.

the stretch was unlike anything you had ever felt before. it wasn’t painful, not at all, but it was so noticeably large. this feeling didn’t subside as he stayed inside, scanning your face for any sign of discomfort. it definitely got much more pleasurable though, when you gave him the go ahead to move, “i w-want you more…” 

he let out an airy chuckle at your words, before moving himself almost all the way out of you, then slowly pushing back inside. “you can have me, all you want. be patient.” he said, repeating this movement a few more times, silently checking to see if you were okay, giving concerned eyes down at you as you writhed below him. 

after you had adjusted, you quietly asked him to go faster, and he obliged. achieving a pace in his movement, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you, pulling his weight down on you, glad to share such an intimate moment with him, after thinking about it so much. 

“you look beautiful, by the way” he added, between huffy breaths which punctuated each thrust. for some reason, these words made you blush more than any of his previous ministrations, but you were too caught up in the moment to think about it very much.

he was enjoying it too, loving the feeling of your walls enveloping him. the fact that he had spent so much time craving you made it that much more enjoyable to him, and whilst he wanted to savour every moment with you like this, his release was taking over his mind more. 

“can… can you go faster?” you asked once again, chasing your release, which you had realised was something only he could give you. “of course” he replied, voice gentle, placing a soft kiss on your neck before picking up his pace. 

it was heavenly.

your other fantasies were underestimations, as it turned out. he was far more ethereal in this act than you could’ve possibly imagined. the warm air between you both had led to his hair becoming a little more messy than when he had got here, bangs framing his face in the most perfect manner. he was beautiful.

zhongli could feel it picking up, his need for release that is. he was going to cum soon, and he wanted to make you do so with him. he moved one hand down to your clit, gently but quickly rubbing at the nub, giving you whole new levels of pleasure, arching your back, making you feel it all. 

he could feel every little clench that your cunt made around him, and could tell you were close. “do you feel it, darling?” he asked, obviously not wanting to be crude about matters surrounding your pleasure. “i do… please let me cum, zhongli~” you whined at him, seeking nothing but sweet release. “of course, dear” he picked up his pace, one last time, very nearly pushing you over the edge before bringing his mouth right to your ear, whispering but one word, one command. “cum” 

just as he spoke, he felt your walls clench around him, orgasm hitting you as you groaned. he quickly pulled out, before cumming himself, all over the folds of your pussy. he, of course, kept rubbing your clit, overstimulating you slightly to help you ride out your orgasm, before pulling away and collapsing on the bed next to you, giving you space to breathe for a moment, before moving a hand to stroke your cheek.

you looked beautiful like this, eyes closed, breathing heavy, dripping with his release. you turned on your side, opening your eyes, and meeting his as he faced you on the bed.

“hi”

“hi…”

nsfw masterlist

© tartigglez, 2023. do not copy, translate or repost

#ahem hello all #genshin impact #genshin x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #zhongli smut #genshin smut #genshin x you