pairings. various (hsr + genshin impact) x gn! reader
warnings. fluff, mentions of jealousy, established relationship
a/n. i find men getting jealous over a little kid so funny, never fails to crack me up.
wordcount. 2.4k
synopsis. how they react to seeing you getting wooed by a child
you’re casually minding your business when a bold little kid struts up to you with a flower they picked from who-knows-where. "you’re the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen!" they declare, face as bright as their words.
"awww, thank you sweetie!"
"...."
the jealous one (despite their big age)
the moment the child runs up to you with wide eyes and a flower clutched in their tiny hand, you can practically feel the temperature shift around you.
whether he's subtle about it or blatantly obvious, as they watch this scene unfold, he is most definitely NOT thrilled. he can not believe his eyes right now.
he doesn’t mean to react the way he does—it’s not like a child could ever be serious competition—but something about the moment sends a spark of possessiveness through him. his entire demeanor changes. his arms cross over his chest, his jaw tightens, and his eyes narrow slightly as he watches the scene unfold.
just what in tarnation is this stupid kid doing?!!?!?
he’s not angry at the child, but the audacity of it throws him off. really? even kids are lining up now? he thinks to himself, feeling his pride take an unexpected hit. as you crouch down to accept the flower with that sweet smile of yours, he can’t help but bristle. there’s a tug at the corner of his mouth that he tries to suppress, but the faint scowl is hard to miss
he crosses his arms, as if the whole situation is beneath their concern, but his sharp eyes never leave the child. he visibly stiffen, his body going tense as they quietly seethe.
when the child boldly proclaims their affection for you, offering their flower with the confidence only a child could muster, you suddenly hear a quiet scoff under his breath, muttering something like, “ridiculous,” before he speaks up, eyes trained on the poor child.
“a bold move, kid, but maybe aim for someone your own size next time.” his tone is teasing (is it really??), but there’s an unmistakable edge to his words, his presence looming protectively by your side.
after the child scurries off, his chest puffed up with pride at his bravery, the jealous one steps in almost immediately, closing the distance between you as if to reclaim his territory.
“so,” he starts, his tone casual but laced with pointed sarcasm, “should i be worried? do i need to watch my back now?” his eyes search yours, and though he’s trying to play it cool, there’s a hint of vulnerability in his gaze—a silent plea for reassurance.
if you laugh and tease him about being jealous, his cheeks darken slightly, and he huffs, looking away. “i’m not jealous,” he insists, though the way his arms cross tighter over his chest says otherwise.
“it’s just… what kind of guy lets someone else give his girl flowers without saying something?” his voice trails off, grumbly and defensive, but you can tell he’s mostly embarrassed by his own reaction.
later, he finds ways to reassert his place by your side, subtle but deliberate. maybe it’s the way he holds your hand a little tighter or slings an arm around your shoulders when you’re out together. he doesn’t need to say it outright, but his actions make it clear: you’re mine.
there’s a faint air of possessiveness to their actions, whether it’s the way they guide you away from the scene with a hand on the small of your back or the way they glance over their shoulder to make sure the child is gone.
if you call him out on their jealousy, the reactions are just as varied. he will deny it outright, scoffing, “jealous? of a kid? don’t flatter yourself.” but their lingering glances and subtle protectiveness give them away.
he simply shrugs, his calm voices betraying none of his innerturmoil: “it’s only natural. beauty like yours is bound to attract attention, even if it’s… unconventional.”
for the rest of the day, you’ll notice small shifts in his behaviour. he'll stand closer, touch you more often—whether it’s a hand on your arm, your waist, or your shoulder—and find little ways to remind you of their presence.
his jealousy, as amusing as it is, only serves to highlight one thing: he want you to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he's the only one who deserves your attention.
when the child shyly approaches you, clutching a flower with trembling hands and nervously stammering out a confession, his reaction is immediate but far from possessive. instead of jealousy or annoyance, he watches with a warm smile, his eyes softening as he takes in the innocence of the moment.
his first thought isn’t to interrupt or overshadow but to appreciate the sincerity of the child’s feelings and your gentle response to it.
he watches the scene unfold with quiet amusement, his heart swelling as he takes in the sweetness of the moment. he doesn’t see the child as a rival or a nuisance—far from it. instead, he’s struck by how earnest and brave the little boy is for approaching you with such sincerity.
he knows how kind and patient you are, and seeing you respond with such gentle affection only reminds him of why he adores you.
as you crouch down to accept the flower, thanking the child with a kind smile, he can’t help but admire you even more. there’s a tenderness in the way you interact with the child that makes his heart ache in the best way possible.
he doesn’t feel threatened by the situation—in fact, he finds it endearing. if anything, it reminds him of how natural it is for people to be drawn to you, no matter their age.
standing just a step behind you, he chuckles softly to himself, murmuring under his breath, “well, that’s brave of him.” his voice carries a note of amused admiration, but he doesn’t feel the need to insert himself into the moment.
instead, he stands by as a quiet presence, ready to step in if the child needs a little encouragement but content to let you handle it.
if the child looks nervous or unsure, he might step closer and kneel down to meet the boy’s eye level, his tone kind and reassuring. “that’s a beautiful flower you’ve got there,” he’d say with a small smile. “you chose well.” he has no intention of stealing the spotlight or intimidating the child; he just wants to make the situation feel a little easier for everyone.
his gentle demeanor leaves no room for misunderstanding—he’s here to support you, not compete for attention.
after the child scampers off, cheeks flushed with pride and excitement, he turns to you with a soft laugh. “you’ve got quite the admirer,” he says, his tone light and teasing but laced with genuine affection. there’s no jealousy in his voice, just quiet amusement and warmth.
he even suggests preserving the flower as a keepsake, offering to press it in a book or find a small vase for it later. to him, it’s a sweet moment worth cherishing.
you thank him for being so calm about the situation, he simply shrugs, his smile soft and unassuming. “he’s just a kid,” he says, his voice full of understanding. “and honestly, it’s sweet. how could anyone not fall for you?” the sincerity in his words is undeniable, and the way his gaze lingers on you for just a second too long tells you everything you need to know about how he feels.
later, he might bring it up again in passing, unable to resist a little playful teasing. “so, should i be worried?” he asks with a grin, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement. “seems like you’ve got admirers lining up these days.”
despite the joke, his actions remain steady and reassuring—he never leaves your side for long and finds subtle ways to remind you of how much you mean to him. whether it’s brushing his hand against yours, standing a little closer than usual, or simply looking at you with that soft, adoring expression, his quiet support is unwavering.
for him, the moment wasn’t about competition or insecurity. it was just another reminder of how incredible you are, and how lucky he feels to be the one by your side.
when the child approaches you, holding out a flower with all the sincerity in the world, the dramatic one immediately acts as if the universe itself has betrayed him. his eyes widen in exaggerated shock, a hand flying to his chest as if struck by an invisible arrow.
“oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” he exclaims, his voice dripping with mock offense. he takes a step back, looking between you and the child with theatrical disbelief, as though he’s stumbled into the climax of some tragic love story.
as the child nervously stammers out his confession, the dramatic one groans, running a hand through his hair as if trying to collect himself. “really? really? even kids now?” he mutters under his breath, though loud enough for you to hear. his tone is less genuine frustration and more exaggerated exasperation, the kind that begs for your attention.
when you smile at the child and crouch down to accept the flower, his reaction shifts into full-blown melodrama. “a flower? oh no, not a flower!” he gasps, pretending to stagger backward as if this tiny gesture has dealt him a mortal wound.
“this is how it starts! next thing i know, he’ll be writing you love letters and stealing your heart!” he places a hand on his forehead, tilting his head back with a long-suffering sigh, as though the betrayal is simply too much to bear.
if the child dares to glance his way, he leans in slightly, crossing his arms with a mock-serious expression. “you’re bold, kid. i’ll give you that,” he says, narrowing his eyes playfully. “but do you have what it takes to keep them happy? hmm? flowers are just the beginning, you know.” despite his words, there’s no real malice—he’s just playing up the moment, reveling in the absurdity of the situation.
when the child finally scampers off, proud of his bravery, the dramatic one steps closer to you, shaking his head with a heavy sigh. “unbelievable. i leave you alone for one second, and this is what happens?” he grumbles, though the grin tugging at his lips betrays his amusement. “what’s next? a line of admirers waiting around the corner?”
if you laugh at his antics, it only fuels his performance. “don’t laugh! this is serious!” he says, though his voice is far from convincing. he leans in closer, his tone dropping to a mock whisper. “tell me the truth—did he win you over? do i have competition now? should i be worried?” his eyes glimmer with playful mischief, his entire demeanor practically begging you to reassure him.
later, he won’t let you forget it. “do you remember earlier? that kid? yeah, i’m still recovering,” he teases, his voice full of faux indignation. “i mean, who does that? confessing right in front of me? bold move, i’ll give him that.” he’ll recount the story to anyone willing to listen, embellishing every detail to make it sound even more dramatic.
“i had to stand there and watch my partner get swept off their feet by a four-foot-tall rival. you have no idea the pain i endured.”
despite all the dramatics, his actions make it clear that it’s all in good fun. he doesn’t actually feel threatened—in fact, he enjoys watching you smile and laugh at his antics. the entire situation only gives him another excuse to shower you with playful affection and remind you in his own ridiculous way just how much you mean to him.
when the child approaches you, holding out a flower with trembling hands and a nervous confession, he is instantly at a loss. his breath catches, and he freezes in place, wide-eyed as he tries to process what’s happening. for a moment, he just stands there, completely still, as though moving might draw attention to himself. his hands awkwardly hover near his sides, unsure whether to intervene or stay back.
his gaze darts between you and the child, his face rapidly turning pink as he realizes how sweetly you’re smiling at the little boy. the warmth and gentleness in your voice as you thank the child make his heart ache in the best way possible. he swallows hard, suddenly hyperaware of how soft and kind you are, and it only makes his cheeks burn hotter.
as you crouch down to accept the flower, he glances away, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve or brushing through his hair in a nervous attempt to compose himself. it’s not that he’s jealous—no, he wouldn’t even know how to be jealous in this situation—it’s just that seeing someone else, even a child, shower you with admiration leaves him tongue-tied and painfully aware of his own feelings.
he mumbles something under his breath, barely audible, like, “that’s… bold of him.” but the moment the words leave his mouth, he cringes internally, wondering why he couldn’t come up with something better. instead of saying more, he stays rooted in place, trying to appear calm even as the tips of his ears betray him with their deep blush.
when the child looks at him, perhaps seeking approval, he manages a small, awkward smile and a quiet, “good choice.” his voice is soft, almost shy, and there’s a hesitant nod to go along with it. he wants to be encouraging after all, this is a child.
still, he’s not upset—he’s impressed by the child’s courage and, more than anything, endeared by how naturally you handle the situation.
after the child runs off, proud of his brave confession, the flustered quiet one exhales a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging slightly as he finally allows himself to relax. he hesitates before speaking, his voice low and slightly uneven. “that was… something,” he murmurs, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he dares to meet your eyes.
if you tease him, his blush deepens, and he looks away, rubbing the back of his neck. “i’m not flustered,” he insists, though his tone is far from convincing. he might even add, “it’s just… surprising, that’s all.” his attempt to downplay his reaction only makes him seem more endearing, his bashful demeanor a clear giveaway of how much the moment affected him.
for the rest of the day, he’s quieter than usual, replaying the scene in his mind and feeling his heart skip all over again. when he finally gathers the courage to bring it up, it’s in the form of a shy, almost hesitant comment.
“he was pretty brave, you know,” he says softly, his gaze flickering to you before quickly looking away. “but, uh… i hope you know that… well, i admire you too. a lot.”
his words are sincere, even if his voice is barely above a whisper. while he may not be as bold as the child who approached you, his quiet admiration and the way he lingers close to you for the rest of the day speak volumes.
taglist: @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchiji @dainsleif-when-playable @momoewn @stygianoir @irethepotato @v4an @imetsk @fiannee @sunnyf4lls if im missing anyone please tell me because i have an inkling feeling i missed a few..
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another note: not proof read so if you found any spelling/grammar mistakes PLEASE tell me
which yanderes in hsr would take advantage whenever y/n is ovulating?
I'm DOWN BAD for them don't get me started🤤
Aren’t we all down bad for them🤭
I think they all could to some extent, take advantage of their lovely darling ovulating. But as always, some stands more out than others (in no specific order):
Sampo: (Don’t even bother to act surprised) Sampo is not even slick. He has your ovulation noted down in his calendar and he is counting the days down. If you have been particularly unwilling and rebellious lately, he is sure to make you melt underneath him.
Mr. Reca: This man is a freak at heart and he does not hide it. Prepare yourself to get touched 24/7.
Mydei: You will not be able to walk properly for a week. He thinks it’s the perfect time to make you more obedient.
Anaxa: Your desperation caused by your hormones is absolutely adorable, and who is he to not take advantage of that? Be prepared to be subjected to many different experiments.
Gallagher: You really are no good for this old dog. Don’t you see how you completely ruin him with your sweet face?
Boothill: He will bind you with his lasso to your bed should it be necessary. He is very playful with it, but don’t let your guard down.
Phainon: He wasn’t going to do it initially, but he really cannot resist you. He is very sweet as he pounds you though.
Jiaoqiu: He would give you some aphrodisiacs to worsen your situation (as one would expect from the sly fox).
Jing Yuan: He is very gentle with it at first, though even the general cannot always hold himself back.
Luocha: You don’t even realise he takes advantage of your ovulation. His angelic features is enough for you to become completely underneath his spell. He would never take advantage of something you can’t control. Right?
I’m a bit unsure if I should add Aventurine or not. I think when it comes to him, it really depends on his mood and everything.
paring : mydei, phainon, blade, mr. reca, aventurine x fem!reader.
tws : nsfw/smut, creampie (vaginal and anal), blood sucking, nipple sucking, rough/gentle sèx, sloppy/messy sèx, multiple of rounds, cow-girl, pǔssy/aśś eating, hair pulling, blood kink/play, dubcon, size kink, slight slut-shaming, belly bulge, spitting in mouth and aftercare.
summary : it’s the spooky month! Who wouldn’t want to be fúcked by a hot vampire boyfriend?
note : not proof-read, sorry for the mistakes.
— MYDEI ★
Your back hits the cold stone, and Mydei is thrusting into you so deep it steals your breath. Every movement is sloppy, wet, dripping down your thighs as you shiver around him. His fangs graze your neck, sinking in just enough to make your blood run hot, mixing with your slick in a way that makes your legs tremble.
“You’re so wet already,” he moans, dragging a hand through your messy folds, spreading you even more. “All this dripping, and you haven’t even broken a sweat yet. You really love making a mess, huh?”
You whimper, gasping as he bites and licks again, nails clutching his shoulders. “I-I… can’t help it…” you manage to moan, your body shivering with overstimulation.
“Can’t help it?” he laughs darkly, hips snapping into you with sloppy, wet sounds. “Look at you—dripping all over me like some desperate little thing. Pathetic… but fuck, I love it.”
He leans down, lips dragging along your collarbone, nibbling at your neck again as his hands roam, squeezing your tits, pinching and flicking your nipples until your back arches and your knees nearly buckle. The mixture of pain, pleasure, and the heat of his cock stretching you has your head spinning.
“Ahh… too big—so full…” you gasp, clinging to him as he grinds deep, balls slapping wetly against you, rubbing your thighs with every thrust. He bites again, tasting the combination of blood and your slick, and hums low.
“You’re shameless, aren’t you?” he murmurs against your skin, dragging his tongue along your neck, teeth grazing the tender spots. “Dripping, squirming… making such a mess. You don’t even care how filthy you look, do you?”
Your thighs quiver, soaking him, and you can’t stop the sounds escaping your mouth—soft moans, gasps, and needy cries as his cock stretches you, deep and relentless. “N-no… I like it…” you manage between shudders, shoving back into him.
He growls, rolling his hips hard, letting the head of his cock drag against your cervix in a sloppy, wet rhythm that makes your body scream. “That’s it… so greedy… look at how wet you are, leaking everywhere. You like being fucked like this, don’t you?”
“Yes—ahh! So good, Mydei!” you cry, trembling as his teeth nip at your shoulder, dragging blood down in a heated streak that mixes with your juices. He smirks against you, hips snapping in harder, sloppy thrusts that flood your senses.
Your climax builds, coiling tight, and he doesn’t let up—still driving deep, still biting, still sucking at your nipples until your body convulses, slick and messy, around him. Your moans are raw, needy, helpless, as he continues, almost punishingly slow now, making every nerve scream as he drags you higher and higher.
“Look at you,” he teases, lips brushing your ear, fangs grazing your skin. “So wet, so messy… a little slut, aren’t you? Always dripping, always desperate. Can’t get enough, can you?”
You shiver violently, every muscle quaking as he keeps rutting into you, mixing his seed with your slick and your blood, your back arching off the stone. His hands grip your hips, holding you tight as he hisses low, dragging you through a second wave of overstimulation, bruising your thighs and nipples with delicious, messy intensity.
Finally, with a growl that vibrates through his chest, he spills again, thick and hot inside you, filling you completely. He keeps moving, messy and relentless, smearing you with every pulse, leaving you trembling, soaked, and completely undone under him.
Your legs are still trembling from the first round, but he isn’t done with you—not even close. Before you can catch your breath, Mydei grabs your hair in a firm, possessive grip, yanking your head back so your throat is exposed. His fangs hover, teasingly close, and you gasp, shivering from the mix of fear and need.
“Look at you,” he growls, eyes dark and hungry. “Still dripping all over me… still desperate. You think you can handle another round?”
You whine, nodding, barely able to form words as his cock, already hard again, teases against your folds. “Y-yes… please… more…”
His smirk is wicked as he presses the tip inside, slowly, stretching you until you cry out, the delicious ache of him filling you wide and full again. “So tight… perfect for me. Can’t believe how greedy you are, taking all of me, soaking around me like this,” he murmurs, thrusting slowly at first, savoring every inch of you.
Then, without warning, he grabs a handful of your hair, yanking your head back sharply, and slams into you with a brutal, wet thrust. Your moan turns into a gasp of pain-pleasure, slick squelching around him as he presses his length impossibly deep. “That’s it… so tight… so fucking wet for me. Look at you, always dripping, always so damn greedy.”
You arch into him, nails digging into his shoulders, trembling as he suddenly leans down and spits into your mouth—warm, metallic, and dominating. Your lips part instinctively, swallowing some of it, gasping as he growls into your neck while driving his cock in and out. “Drink it,” he hisses, fangs grazing the tender skin, “you’re soaking… you need to taste yourself mixed with me.”
His hands roam, squeezing your tits roughly, pinching and flicking your nipples until you’re crying out, almost incoherent from the overstimulation. Every sloppy thrust presses the head of his cock against your cervix, deep and overstretching, and your walls flutter helplessly around him.
“You’re shameless, you know that?” he mutters, dragging his fangs across your collarbone as he thrusts, still holding your hair. “Leaking, trembling… like a desperate little mess. Can’t even hide it, can you? Pathetic… and I love it.”
You whine, thrusting back into him desperately, trying to take him as deep as he’s giving. “Ahh—so big… too much—please…”
He growls, slamming forward again, each thrust sloppy and wet, hips snapping, balls slapping hard against you. “Too much? No, you’re made for this. Made to stretch like this, take it all… look at how you’re dripping… all over me.”
Every movement is messy, slick mixing with blood, spit, and his seed from before. He leans down, lips at your ear, teeth grazing lightly as he whispers, “Greedy little thing… can’t get enough, can you? Always soaking, always trembling. And you love it.”
He pulls your hair harder, yanking your head back so your throat is open, fangs brushing as he hisses, “Beg for it—beg for me to push in again. Tell me you want every inch, every messy, dripping part of me.”
“P-please—ahh—give it all to me!” you gasp, body shaking, hips bucking into him desperately. Your walls clench and pulse around his thick length, and he groans low, thrusting harder, faster, every wet slap and sloppy grind a chaotic rhythm that has you dizzy and shivering.
He tilts your head, biting lightly at your jaw, then presses his lips over yours, spitting into your mouth again, hot and domineering, your tongue tangling with his as he drives into you, hips snapping, balls slapping, his size stretching you over and over.
“God… look at you,” he groans, dragging his nails down your back, “so messy… soaking, trembling… a little slut for me, and you can’t even hide it. So greedy, so dripping… always dripping…”
Your body convulses around him, slick mixing with blood, saliva, and remnants of his seed, trembling violently as another wave of orgasm rocks through you. He doesn’t slow, grinding his hips, hair pulling, teeth grazing, tongue teasing your mouth, keeping you on the edge again and again, overstimulated, dripping, and completely undone.
Finally, with a low, feral growl, he spills deep inside you again, thick, hot, overwhelming. Every sloppy pulse drives it deeper, mixing with your juices in a mess that coats you both, your body shaking as he keeps thrusting just enough to stretch and milk you fully.
You whimper, exhausted and trembling, still wet, messy, and spent—but the overstimulation leaves you burning, blood-tinged, and delirious from how completely he’s ruined you… again.
After the last shuddering climax leaves you trembling, he finally pulls back, slick and sticky, letting you collapse against the cold stone floor. His hands roam over your soaked, blood-tinged skin, brushing hair from your face and dragging a thumb over your jawline where he bit you. The warmth of his touch contrasts sharply with the chill of the room, grounding you as you shiver, still catching your breath.
“You look ridiculous like that,” he murmurs with a low chuckle, leaning down so his lips are inches from yours. “Messy, dripping… and still glaring at me like I’m the monster.” His amber eyes glint mischievously, watching your chest heave as you press your thighs together, trying to hide just how worn out and sticky you feel.
You glare at him, teeth bared, and without thinking, you sink them lightly into his forearm, drawing a sharp hiss from him. “Don’t mock me,” you growl, your lips wet with the remnants of his spit and your own juices, “I’m perfectly aware of how… ‘ridiculous’ I look.” He smirks at the bite, clearly amused, but he doesn’t pull away, letting you mark him back just a little.
Finally, he drags you closer, wrapping an arm around your trembling shoulders and tugging you into his chest, still slick and warm against him. You bury your face against him, panting, your body sticky and sore, while he hums low, fingers tracing slow circles along your back. “You’re lucky I like how stubborn you are,” he teases softly, voice rough but affectionate, and you can’t help the small, grudging laugh that escapes you, pressing closer to him as the tension finally melts away.
— PHAINON ★
Your thighs were already trembling when Phainon pushed you down, his fangs glinting faintly in the low light. He looked at you like you were some forbidden treasure—half reverent, half starving.
“…my sun,” he whispered, lips brushing your neck, “you don’t even know what you do to me.”
His mouth sealed against your skin before you could answer, and you gasped when sharp teeth broke through, the sting melting instantly into molten heat. He drank slowly, almost tender, his tongue lapping the blood that spilled. You felt his cock twitch against your thigh through his trousers as he moaned around your throat, hips pressing into you like he couldn’t stop himself.
By the time he pulled back, lips glossy and chin wet, he was already sinking lower, leaving your neck sticky with his kisses. His hands spread your thighs wide, and you squeaked at how shamelessly he buried his face in your pussy, lapping and sucking until it was sloppy with spit.
“F–Phainon…” you whimpered, clutching his hair, “it’s too much—”
“Never enough,” he rasped, voice thick, before licking a slow stripe from your ass up to your clit, groaning like he was worshipping. “Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted. Gods, your pussy, your ass… I want every part of you on my tongue.”
He shifted, spreading your cheeks to lap at your ass until you were whining, then diving back down to your dripping pussy, alternating like he couldn’t choose. His tongue pushed into you, sloppy, his nose bumping your clit, and the obscene sounds of him eating you out filled the room.
“Let me hear you,” he begged between licks, voice muffled, “let me hear how pretty you sound when I ruin you.”
Your hips rolled against his mouth, and when his teeth grazed your swollen clit, you nearly screamed, thighs locking around his head. He only moaned harder, rutting his cock into the sheets, lost in you.
“Phainon, I—”
“Shhh, love,” he soothed, thumb pressing into your slick entrance as his mouth suckled your clit, “I’ll drink every drop, I’ll eat you till you can’t beg anymore. Just give it to me. All of it.”
Your back arched as you came, gushing against his tongue, his fangs nicking your thigh this time so he could lap up blood and slick together like it was his own heaven. He groaned deep, feral and sweet at once, worshipping the mess you made.
And when he finally lifted his face, cheeks and lips drenched, his eyes narrowed, smile so soft it hurt.
“Still mine to adore,” he murmured, kissing your trembling pussy once more before crawling up to press his mouth against yours, letting you taste yourself mixed with iron and him.
Your body was still quivering from his mouth when Phainon shifted over you, lips shining red, pupils blown wide. His cock pressed heavy against your thigh, and you gasped at the sheer weight of it—thick, long, the head slick and smearing precum on your skin.
“You’ll take me, won’t you?” he purred, voice soft but trembling with hunger. “This body… gods, you’ll stretch so perfectly for me.”
You nodded helplessly, and he rewarded you with a kiss to your nipple, tongue swirling before he sucked hard, groaning like he was drinking from you all over again. His teeth grazed your sensitive skin, tugging at the peak until you moaned, arching into him. His hand cupped your other breast, rolling your nipple between fingers as his cock slid along your folds, teasing your swollen clit with every pass.
“Look at that,” he whispered against your chest, licking a wet circle around your nipple before sucking again, “your pussy’s begging me already. So small, so wet for this cock.”
He pushed slowly, the blunt tip stretching you open, your walls fluttering around him. You whined, nails digging into his shoulders at the overwhelming fullness.
“Shhh, my love… breathe. Gods, you’re so tight.” He kissed your cheek sweetly even as his cock pushed deeper, every inch making your tummy ache with the stretch. “Taking me so well. My perfect girl.”
By the time he bottomed out, you were panting, cunt gripping him like a vice. His hand slid lower, thumb rubbing your clit as he started to move, long, deep thrusts that made your whole body rock.
“Pussy’s swallowing me whole,” he moaned, sucking your nipple again, pulling it between his teeth as his hips slammed harder. “Too small for me, but you still take it… greedy little thing.”
You cried out, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes, the size of him almost unbearable—yet you clenched tighter, wanting more.
“Wanna ruin you everywhere,” he groaned, pulling out suddenly, smearing your slick against your ass. His thumb pressed to your hole, circling before slowly pushing in. “You’ll let me here too, won’t you? Let me make you mine even deeper?”
You whimpered, nodding, and he eased his cock back into your pussy while working your ass open with his thumb. Soon he replaced it with the thick head of his cock, teasing the rim as you sobbed into his chest.
“Relax, my sweet. I’ll make it feel so good.” He kissed your temple, voice trembling, before pushing—stretching your ass wide until the head popped inside. Your cry was muffled against his skin, and he groaned at the heat clutching him tight.
“Fuck… gods, you’re perfect,” he hissed, inching deeper until you were stuffed, his cock filling your ass while his fingers returned to your clit, desperate to soothe you. “So small… and you still take it. My brave girl.”
His pace built, sloppy and desperate, every thrust making your belly bulge, his hand pressing down to show you how far inside he was. He bent to suck your nipple again, moaning around it as his hips snapped harder, fucking your ass until the wet sounds of your cunt and his low groans filled the room.
“Tell me,” he begged, eyes glowing, “tell me how good my cock feels stretching you.”
“P-Phainon—ahh, it’s too much,” you whimpered, body trembling under him as his cock drove deeper into your ass, his fingers working your soaked pussy until you were dripping down your thighs.
“Not too much,” he groaned, sucking hard at your nipple again, fangs scraping lightly across the sensitive skin, “never too much of you. Look at how you open up for me… so tight, so full—gods, I could lose myself inside you.”
Your walls clenched around nothing as he fingered your clit faster, your ass gripping him like a vice. The stretch made your tummy bulge around his cock, and he pressed a palm there, smirking through heavy breaths.
“See that? You’re stuffed full, little love. My cock all the way inside… can you feel me? Touching you here?”
The pressure broke you, and your moans rose into a scream as you came hard, pussy squirting messily over his hand and down to the sheets. He hissed, hips stuttering, cock throbbing inside your ass at the feeling of your body writhing against him.
“That’s it—fuck—give it all to me,” he growled, thrusts growing erratic, sloppy. His teeth sank into your breast this time, a sharp bite that drew blood as he sucked at your nipple, drinking while he rutted into you. The taste and your cries pushed him over the edge.
With a deep groan, he buried himself to the hilt, cock swelling as he spilled thick inside your ass, the heat of it flooding you until it leaked around the stretch. He didn’t pull out right away—he pushed deeper, grinding slow as if he wanted to mark you from the inside out.
But then, almost tender, he pulled free and pressed his cock against your drenched pussy, still twitching. “One more, love… let me fill you here too,” he whispered, voice trembling with need. You nodded weakly, and he pushed back in, both holes aching and soaked.
He came again, this time directly inside your cunt, a messy flood that mixed with your slick, dribbling down to your ass. He moaned softly, collapsing against you, sucking at the blood on your chest while holding your thighs open, not letting a drop escape.
When it was over, he kissed you gently, lips sticky with blood and sweat, and stroked your hair with shaky fingers.
“My brave, sweet sun,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to yours, “you take me so beautifully. Let me… stay like this, just holding you, while you rest.”
His cock still nestled inside, his fangs still grazing your skin, but the hunger was quiet now—replaced by warmth, soft kisses, and his voice promising he’d worship you again when you were ready.
— BLADE ★
Your scalp burned deliciously when Blade’s hand tangled in your hair and yanked your head back, forcing your throat bare for him. His breath was hot, ragged, and you barely caught the low growl before his fangs sank into your skin.
You gasped, nails raking down his arm as he drank, tongue lapping at every drop like he’d been starving for centuries. His free hand slipped down between your thighs, fingers finding your pussy already wet for him.
“Pathetic,” he muttered against your skin, voice low, almost a snarl. “Dripping before I’ve even touched you properly.”
His fingers slid inside with no mercy, two thick digits curling deep, the wet squelch loud as he fucked them into you. His palm ground hard against your clit, making you buck helplessly, while his mouth stayed latched to your neck, drinking greedily.
When he finally pulled back, lips smeared crimson, he caught your chin in his blood-stained fingers and forced your mouth open. He spat into it, slow and deliberate, watching your throat bob as you swallowed.
“Good girl,” he rasped, pumping his fingers harder, rough, the heel of his hand abusing your clit. “Take it. Take everything I give you.”
You whimpered, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as his grip in your hair tightened, dragging your head back further, making you arch into every brutal thrust of his hand.
“Gonna make a mess all over my fingers,” he whispered, his fangs grazing your jaw, tongue lapping lazily at the streaks of blood he’d left. “And then I’ll decide if you’re ready for my cock.”
Blade didn’t even let you breathe before he dragged his soaked fingers out of you and shoved them into your mouth, pressing them deep on your tongue. His yellow eyes burned into yours as he watched you suck yourself off his hand, messy and desperate.
“Filthy little thing,” he rasped, yanking your hair one more time before shoving you down onto his lap. His cock was heavy, hot, throbbing between you, smearing precum across your stomach as he positioned you over him. “You’re going to ride me until your legs give out.”
The stretch was brutal when he pushed inside, every thick inch forcing its way past your walls. “Aughh!” You cried out, nails digging into his shoulders, but he only grabbed your hips and shoved you down until you were seated fully on his cock.
“Look at you,” he hissed, fangs bared, chest rising and falling fast. “Split open on me. And I haven’t even started yet.”
You tried to move, but his hands kept you pinned. His mouth closed around your nipple, sucking hard, teeth grazing the swollen bud until you arched against him. He released it with a wet pop, only to bite down harder the next second, pulling a sharp cry from your lips.
“Ride,” he ordered, smacking your ass to make you move. “Show me how bad you want to be ruined.”
You obeyed, hips lifting and dropping, the thick drag of his cock inside you making your eyes roll back. He groaned, low and guttural, one hand in your hair again as he yanked you down for a bruising kiss. His tongue forced its way into your mouth, mingling with the taste of copper as he cut your lip with his fang and sucked the blood straight from it.
“Perfect,” he growled against your mouth, spit mixing with blood as he spat down your throat again. “You were made for me.”
You bounced harder, thighs trembling, your clit grinding against his pelvis every time you sank down. His mouth returned to your chest, switching nipples, sucking them raw, leaving bruises and bite marks across your soft flesh. Each sharp sting only pushed you closer to the edge.
“You feel that?” he whispered harshly, fangs scraping over your breast as he buried himself deep. “That’s me splitting you open. Every time you ride me, you’re mine.”
“Ahh—Blade—!” Your cries turned to screams when he thrust up into you, matching your pace with brutal force, cock punching deep with every snap of his hips. His hand slipped between your thighs, rubbing your clit furiously while his other hand yanked your hair back, forcing you to look into his wild eyes.
“Come for me,” he demanded, voice a dangerous growl. “Make a mess all over me, and then I’ll drink every drop of you, inside and out.”
“F—Fuck Blade!” Your body broke, clenching around him so hard it dragged a loud groan from his throat. He bit your nipple hard enough to make you sob, sucking until your whole chest was wet with spit and blood. He didn’t stop moving, fucking you through the orgasm, hips pounding mercilessly until you were shaking in his lap.
“Not done,” he snarled, smearing blood from your breast across your lips with his thumb before pushing it into your mouth. “We keep going until you can’t remember your own name.”
Blade didn’t let you catch your breath. He grabbed your waist, twisted, and slammed you down onto the bed with a growl. His cock slipped from you only for a second—long enough to flip you onto your stomach—then he shoved himself back inside, forcing a cry from your throat.
“Ah—! B-Blade—” your voice cracked, muffled into the sheets as his hips snapped against you. “S-so deep, it’s too much!”
“Too much?” His laugh was sharp, cruel, his hand fisting in your hair and yanking your head back until your throat arched. “Then you’ll take it all. Don’t you dare run from me.”
The pounding was relentless, his cock bottoming out with every thrust. His free hand slid under you, finding your clit and rubbing hard circles that had your thighs shaking. You sobbed, drool smearing your lips, but your body betrayed you, squeezing him tighter and tighter.
“You’re going to come for me again,” he hissed against your ear, fangs grazing the shell before sinking deep into your neck. The sting was sharp, followed by a rush of heat as he drank greedily, swallowing every drop that pulsed against his tongue.
“B-Blade!” you whimpered, body going weak in his grip. “Y-you’re taking too much—”
He groaned, rutting harder, cock swelling inside you as your blood coated his mouth. His hand clamped over your throat, pinning you as he fucked you into the mattress. “Quiet. You taste too good. I’ll stop when I’ve had my fill.”
Your walls clenched down, milking him as you came again, tears streaking your cheeks. “I-I can’t—gonna break—” you sobbed, but the words melted into a scream when he pulled his fangs free, blood dripping down your shoulder.
He bent to your other nipple, sucking it raw again, then spat your blood into your open mouth, forcing your tongue to lap it up. “Swallow it,” he ordered, and you obeyed, shuddering, moaning through the mess.
He bit your neck again, drinking harder, hips pistoning until the wet sounds filled the room. You clawed at the sheets, voice hoarse. “Please—Blade—m’gonna pass out—”
His groan rumbled deep, hips stuttering as he spilled hot inside you, his cock jerking with every pulse. He licked the blood from your throat like he owned it, sucking every drop while you went limp beneath him.
Your voice slurred, weak. “Y-you dummy… drank too much… I’m… sleepy…”
He chuckled darkly, pulling out slowly, cum leaking down your thighs as he flipped you onto your back. His thumb stroked your cheek almost tenderly. “Pathetic little thing. Can’t even stay awake for me.”
But you were already gone, snoring softly, lips parted, blood still staining your skin. Blade licked his fangs clean, smirking down at you.
“Tch. Weak,” he muttered—but his rough hand pulled a blanket over your naked body all the same, his eyes lingering on your face before closing.
— MR. RECA ★
Mr. Reca’s lips brushed your throat first, slow and deliberate, as if he were framing the perfect shot. “You don’t mind if I… indulge, do you?” he murmured, voice velvet-smooth but trembling with hunger. Before you could answer, his fangs sank in deep, and your gasp broke into a whimper as he drank from you, greedy swallows vibrating through his chest.
His hand slid down, fingers slipping between your thighs, teasing your folds with wet strokes. He chuckled against your neck, pulling back with blood staining his lips. “Mm… your body sings when I taste you. I can feel it.” Two fingers pressed into your pussy, curling deep until your back arched.
The other hand wandered lower, parting your cheeks, slick fingertips circling your tighter hole. “Relax,” he whispered, kissing your jaw as his tongue smeared your blood across your skin. “I’ll prepare you everywhere I want to take you.”
You shivered when his blood-warmed spit dripped down your ass, his fingers rubbing it in before pressing against you. He pushed one inside, slow, deliberate, while his other hand fucked you open at the same time. “Beautiful,” he groaned, red eyes glowing as he watched both your holes twitch around him. “I want to film this moment—your body split open on my hands.”
You whined his name, and he laughed softly, fangs scraping your ear. “Say it again. Let me hear you beg while I stretch you.”
He pushed another finger into your ass, scissoring, grinding his palm into your clit, until you were trembling and gasping. His mouth returned to your breast, biting down around your nipple just enough to draw blood before sucking hard, filling his mouth with you. “Sweet,” he mumbled around the bite, “everything about you is sweet.”
His hands never left you, sliding over your hips and thighs, fingers tracing over slick folds as his fangs grazed your shoulder. “So… delicate,” he murmured, voice smooth but low, a trembling note of hunger underneath. His tongue followed his words, dragging over your skin in long, wet strokes that made your back arch without you even thinking.
One hand cupped your breast, rolling your nipple between fingers while the other slipped lower. He pushed two long, slender fingers into your pussy, curling inside you, testing, stretching, drawing soft cries from your throat. Then, without warning, he pressed another finger against your tight little ass, circling the rim before sliding it in slow, deliberate, making you moan your desperation.
“Shhh,” he whispered, teeth grazing your jaw, fangs scraping lightly, “perfect. So tight… so responsive.” He alternated between curling his fingers inside your pussy and pushing into your ass, making your walls clench uncontrollably. Every squelch and wet sound of your body wrapping around his fingers made his red eyes gleam brighter.
He pulled back slightly, lips pressing to your shoulder, tasting the blood that still ran down from his earlier bites. Then he spat, letting a thin line of saliva drip down onto your ass and smearing it with a finger. “This… this will make you ready,” he said softly, thumb pressing into your clit as his fingers pushed in and out. “For me. You’ll take me so well… my little canvas.”
You whimpered, voice trembling, nails digging into his arms as he pressed his lips against your neck, sucking hard again, fangs piercing just enough to make you shiver and moan, blood and spit mixing over your skin. His hands never stopped—scissoring your ass, curling in your pussy, rubbing your clit in slow, merciless circles, making every nerve in your body light on fire.
“Say my name,” he murmured against your ear, breath hot, “while I make you ready. Let me hear it.”
“Mr… Reca… please—ahhh…” you whimpered, voice cracking as he dug his fingers in harder. “I… I’m ready… please, I can’t… hold…”
He groaned, thumb pressing into your clit roughly as he fucked your ass and pussy with two fingers in perfect, torturous rhythm. His other hand yanked your hair back, forcing your head up, lips parting for him to kiss your ear and neck between rough bites. “So… perfect,” he murmured, voice low, almost reverent. “Every inch of you… mine before I even touch you fully.”
Your body trembled, thighs shaking as he pushed in deeper, fingers stretching you open, hands moving over you with that strange mix of elegance and ravenous hunger. He licked over your shoulder, down your spine, before biting again, leaving a crimson mark while you moaned, leaking around his fingers.
“Look at you,” he whispered, voice soft but commanding, “so wet, so pliant. My little masterpiece… stretched and ready for every inch I want.”
He pressed a hand to your mouth suddenly, muffling a cry as he pressed two fingers in deeper, one into your ass, one curling inside your pussy, scissoring slowly. “Tch… filthy little thing. Beg properly for me,” he growled, leaning in to bite your neck, fangs sinking briefly, then pulling back to lick the blood from your skin and smear it across your mouth.
“Ahhh… Mr. Reca… please… I—I’m yours… take me…” you whimpered, voice weak and trembling as he pumped fingers in and out, his blood-mixed spit sliding down your thighs.
“Good girl,” he murmured, one hand still tangled in your hair, the other fingers moving impossibly inside you, rubbing your clit, fucking both holes simultaneously. His fangs grazed your ear as he whispered low, “Ride the edge… feel yourself break under me… mine.”
You cried out, body trembling, moaning helplessly, and he pressed his forehead to yours for a second, voice soft yet rough. “Yes… that’s it… perfect,” he breathed, lips grazing yours in a wet, hungry kiss, tasting your blood, marking you, claiming you without ever letting go of the fingers inside you.
He finally pulled his fingers free with a wet pop, smearing your slick across your thighs, and stepped between your legs, cock already heavy, red-tipped and glistening. You whimpered at the sight, hips twitching involuntarily.
“Look at you… dripping, trembling,” he murmured, voice soft but rough underneath, fangs brushing your earlobe. “All ready for me, and still… so tight. Such a beautiful mess.”
He pressed the tip against your slick entrance first, then slowly pushed in, inch by inch. You cried out, arching into him, nails digging into his shoulders as he hissed low, almost a growl. “Perfect. So small… yet you take me so well. Gods, look at you.”
As he bottomed out, his hand trailed down to your ass, smearing your blood and spit-laced wetness before pressing a finger to your rim. “And here too,” he whispered, teasing before slowly pushing one thick finger inside your tight hole, making your back arch and knees shake. “So pliant… so hungry for me.”
Your breath came in shaky pants as he began to move, cock pumping deep inside you, finger pushing in and out of your ass with every thrust. His other hand tangled in your hair, yanking your head back so your lips hovered near his blood-stained fangs.
“Look at you, whimpering… trembling,” he murmured, nibbling at your ear, fangs grazing the shell, “your cunt and ass… mine. Mine to ruin, to stretch, to drink from.”
He leaned over your shoulder, mouth finding your neck again, biting hard enough to draw a sharp gasp, then licking the blood into his mouth, letting it drip back down over your shoulder and smear across your chest. “Tasty… all of you is delicious,” he breathed, voice low and full of hunger.
His hips stuttered, then slammed harder, cock pistoning inside your pussy while the finger in your ass scissored relentlessly, making you cry out each time he bottomed out. One hand slipped under you to press your clit, rubbing circles that drove you crazy, every nerve in your body alight.
“Say my name,” he demanded, fangs brushing your jaw as he bit your shoulder lightly, drawing another trickle of blood. “Say it while I fuck you through every shudder, every squeal. Let me hear it, little thing.”
“Mr… Reca… ahh! I-I’m yours… please—please don’t stop—” you whimpered, voice breaking, body trembling.
He groaned, rutting into you faster, cock slamming deep, hand kneading your breast, teeth grazing the nipple, leaving small bites that stung deliciously. The finger in your ass moved in perfect rhythm with his cock, stretching you, making your walls clamp around both cock and finger.
“Shhh… my beautiful little disaster,” he murmured, lips brushing yours for a messy, blood-spiked kiss. “So tight, so wet… so perfect. Mine before I even come.”
You cried out, back arching, thighs trembling, eyes watering as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, rubbing your clit, biting your shoulder and neck, scissoring your ass with each snap of his hips. “I’m… ahh—gonna… g-gonna…” your words broke into desperate moans, body shaking uncontrollably.
He whispered against your ear, fangs grazing your skin, “Come for me… fill me with your mess, let me taste you, mark you…” and drove you past the edge. Your walls clenched impossibly tight, your pussy pulsing and squeezing his cock, ass gripping the finger inside, trembling with your orgasm as he held you down.
He growled, rutting into you harder, cum spilling deep inside your pussy, twitching and pulsing as he simultaneously pounded your ass with the finger, every thrust sloppy, wet, and unrelenting. His hand yanked your hair, head forced back, lips claiming your neck and shoulder, drinking the blood that leaked from his bites while you cried and whimpered.
“Mine…” he rasped, almost soft now, hips stuttering through the last few strokes, “all of you… mine, perfect little ruin.”
You shivered, tears mixing with sweat and blood, chest heaving, lips swollen from kisses and bites, trembling in his arms. He slowly pulled out, cum leaking down your thighs, then bent to kiss your temple, fangs grazing lightly, a soft growl escaping.
“You… can rest now,” he murmured, brushing a bloodied strand of hair from your face, “after you’ve been so… perfect.
Your voice was barely a whisper, cracked and tired. “Y-You… drank too much… I’m… sleepy…”
His hands lingered, brushing your blood-spattered skin, gently guiding you down. You collapsed against the sheets, snoring softly within minutes, your body utterly spent, blood and fluids coating both of you. He leaned over, smirk soft but fangs still glinting, muttering, “Tch… weak little thing… but beautiful.”
And for the first time since he started, he let himself relax, curling beside your spent body, the crimson mess still warm between you, silent except for your soft, tired snoring.
— AVENTURINE ★
Your thighs trembled the moment his gloved hand slid up between them, fingertips dragging over your slick folds like he was testing how ready you were for him. Aventurine chuckled low in his throat, heterochromatic eyes glittering in the dark, his lips already brushing against your pulse.
“Mm, so wet already? What a reckless little gamble letting a man like me between your legs…” His voice dipped, smooth and taunting, before his fangs pierced into the tender flesh of your throat.
The sting made you gasp, your nails curling into his shoulders as hot blood rushed out of you and into him. He groaned against your neck, sucking greedily, tongue lapping at the wound until his lips were smeared crimson. “Sweet and messy… figures you’d taste like this.”
Two fingers slid inside your pussy before you could answer, stretching you wide and pumping hard. He curved them just right, dragging against that tender spot until your hips bucked. His other hand tangled in your hair, yanking your head back so he could watch your face contort. “Look at you—squirming on my fingers like you’ve been waiting for this all night. You want my cock that bad, huh?”
You whimpered, voice breaking, “Y-yes, please—”
He smirked, pressing his thumb against your clit, rubbing tight circles while he pushed his fingers deeper. “Greedy slut… you don’t even care I’m drinking you dry, do you? Just begging to be split open.”
Your pussy clenched around him, wet sounds obscene as his fingers pumped faster. He spat into your mouth suddenly, making you choke and swallow, the taste of copper still lingering on his tongue. “Good girl. Keep swallowing everything I give you.”
Pulling his hand free, he smeared your slick across the fat head of his cock, stroking himself lazily while watching your hole flutter. “You see this?” he taunted, slapping his length against your soaked folds. “You’re going to struggle to take me—so small and tight, and I’m so fucking big. But you’ll spread for me anyway, won’t you?”
“Y-yes, I will—” you whined, breath catching when he rubbed his tip against your entrance, teasing but not pushing in yet.
Aventurine leaned close, lips brushing your ear as his cock ground against your pussy. “Mm, let’s see how much of a gambler you really are.” His fangs scraped your skin again, threatening another bite just as he began to push inside, stretching you wide around him, making your head spin.
He didn’t push in all the way. Instead, Aventurine pulled back, laughing softly at your desperate whine. “Oh, you thought I was going to fuck you already? Tsk, tsk—what’s the fun in giving you the jackpot right away?”
He shoved you down, spreading your thighs open wide. His sharp nails traced the inside of your thigh before his tongue flattened against your pussy, dragging up slowly, savoring every bit of slick he collected. He moaned against you, the vibration making your clit throb.
“Mm, dripping like you were made for this…” His lips wrapped around your clit, sucking hard until your legs shook. Two fingers slid back into you, curling as his tongue flicked over your swollen bud, the combined pressure pushing you toward release far too quickly.
Your hips bucked helplessly and he laughed against your folds, pulling back only to spit on your cunt and dive right back in, messy and loud. “Filthy little thing… getting wetter every time I call you a slut. You love it.”
You whined, trying to cover your face, but his hand grabbed your wrist and pinned it down. “Ah, ah—don’t hide from me. I want to see how stupid I make you look.” His teeth grazed your clit before he sucked it deep into his mouth, tongue lashing while his fingers pumped harder inside your pussy.
Then he pulled away with a wet sound, eyes gleaming, mouth smeared in your slick. “But why stop at just one hole, hm?” He pushed your thighs up farther, pressing your knees toward your chest until your ass lifted. The cool air hit your most private places just before his tongue dragged down, licking over your soaked cunt and then lower—slowly circling your tight hole.
You gasped, eyes going wide, hips jerking. “Aven…!”
“Ohh, listen to that voice,” he chuckled, tongue pressing harder against your ass, licking it open while his fingers still fucked your pussy. “So sensitive here… you’re going to let me eat you everywhere, aren’t you?”
His tongue licked messily over both holes now—back and forth, your pussy twitching around his fingers while his tongue lapped at your ass. The mix of sensations had you keening, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes.
He looked up at you through his lashes, lips shiny with spit and slick. “Such a messy girl… two holes begging at once. You’re going to let me ruin you until you can’t tell which one you want more.”
And with that, he shoved his tongue back into your ass, pumping his fingers rougher into your pussy, eating you out on both ends at once until you were shaking and incoherent under him.
Aventurine finally pulled his mouth away from between your thighs, lips slick and shining, chin dripping with your mess. He smirked down at you, eyes glinting with wicked amusement. “Gods, you taste like sin… and I haven’t even had the main course yet.”
He dragged the thick head of his cock along your folds, smearing himself with your slick until the sound was obscene. He tapped your clit with it, just to watch you flinch and whimper. “So desperate… look at how you’re clenching nothing. You want me to fill you up that bad?”
“Yes—please, please, I need it,” you gasped, writhing beneath him.
“Begging like a little whore… mm, I’ll allow it.” He gripped the base of his cock, lined himself up, and shoved the fat tip past your entrance in one hard push. Your cunt stretched around him, clenching down as you cried out from the sudden intrusion.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned, forcing himself deeper, inch by inch. He leaned over you, hand fisting in your hair to yank your head back so he could watch your face twist between pain and pleasure. “You feel that? That’s me splitting you open… you can barely take it, and I’m not even all the way in yet.”
Your nails raked down his back, moans spilling out uncontrollably as he bottomed out, hips pressing flush against yours. The stretch was overwhelming, every nerve lit up, every inch of him filling you so completely you could hardly breathe.
Aventurine paused just to relish your trembling. Then he pulled back slowly, almost all the way out, before slamming his hips forward, the wet slap of skin-on-skin echoing between your cries. “Fuck yes… squeezing me like you’re made for this cock. My greedy little slut.”
His pace was merciless, hips snapping into yours over and over, making your body bounce with every thrust. He grunted in your ear, “Taking me so deep… hear that? That’s your pussy sucking me in, begging me not to pull out.”
Your walls clenched tighter, wet sounds echoing with every thrust, and he laughed breathlessly, spitting into your open mouth before kissing you hard. “Swallow it—good girl. You’re mine to ruin tonight.”
He shifted, pushing your legs higher so he could fuck into you at a brutal angle, the head of his cock grinding against that sweet spot deep inside. You screamed his name, back arching, and he bit down on your shoulder, sinking his fangs into your flesh. The hot rush of blood leaving you only made the pleasure sharper, your climax ripping through you with violent force.
Your pussy spasmed around him, milking his cock, and he hissed through bloody lips. “Oh fuck—you’re squeezing me so tight—shit, I’m gonna—” His thrusts grew erratic, harder, deeper, until with a guttural groan he buried himself to the hilt and spilled inside you.
Hot ropes of cum flooded your cunt, filling you so much it leaked out around his cock with every last thrust. Aventurine didn’t stop until he was sure you were stuffed full, then he pulled back just enough to watch the mess drip from you.
He smirked, breathless but still smug, brushing his thumb across your swollen lower lip. “Looks like you hit the jackpot after all.”
Aventurine would like to believe he's flighty enough to not make it obvious, which he is to an interesting degree — that the pulse at the juncture of your wrist soothes his soul. To him, nothing else is more intimate. For, through this, he cherishes the very symbol of your existence. By acknowledging that rhythm, he's blessed.
Sunday's lips always linger when he kisses your hand. His fingers flex in uncertainty, strength waning and waxing before the struggle — to grasp or, to cherish? To hold, or constrict? Alas, the anticipation of decorum always leaves these questions to perpetual vacillation.
Dr Ratio inclines to kiss the crater of your palm, burrowing as deep as the lines would allow. He huffs as if its an inconvenience — perhaps, bearing the weight of such adoration is an inconvenience, even for a brilliant scholar. You wouldn't know though, that his apparent fixation with your palm is but an excuse to hide the blood that rushes to his cheeks whenever he concedes before your altar.
Mr Reca always makes a show out of it. A kiss to your pinky, another barely touching the tip of your fingernail, a teasing whisper over your knuckles. Close, but never enough. Just when you're drunk and sunk in his ploys, will he strike.
Mydei leans towards your hand just the same, but the expected kiss is always replaced with a nip, or a bite to your wrist or finger. The dumbfounded blinks, flustered fluttering of your lashes and indignant protests are far too delightful to not exploit.
Phainon, ever so graceful, is a mess in the palms of your hands. His lips cannot settle for one spot, he must kiss every fingertip, every knuckle, every phantom of a vein and every crease that marks your being. It's a waste holding back, his salvation is in embracing the fall.
Anaxa who bows before none, always kneels first before kissing your hand. It does not matter when or where, he will always lower himself to one knee and peer up at your radiance. His prayers are never verbal, but his gaze is parched enough to appeal to your heart and grant him his solace every time. But, would you still remain so merciful, if you knew the unrelenting pace of his greed?
seeing you next to another man stirs up something in his poor, jealous heart. he shouldn't be this jealous, right? you don't like the other man, right?? fighting the urge to just pick you up and walk away, to show everyone that you're his and he's yours. i mean, come on, of course he gets jealous over those.. "male friends" of yours; he was one of your male friends, and look at what came out of it. he doesn't want you nearing other people, he's totally obsessed with you. a lovefool, perhaps, but he's a lovefool only for you. thats why when you talk with another man, he's there. always. holding your hand, holding your waist, holding your shoulder; the thing is, he holds you close. despite everything, he just loves you a lot, and maybe he just wants to oftenly show the whole world that you're off limits for anyone and everyone except him.
— phainon, flins, dan heng, anaxa, aventurine, sethos, sunday, mr reca, ayato, tartaglia/childe/ajax, + your favs!
the world is a vast place. in the grand scheme of things, humans are but a speck of dust; much like how you are sure you are nothing but a meagre speck of dust in the world he lives in, forever to be remained unseen. (if only you knew how you are the brightest star he'd ever laid his eyes upon.)
CONTAINS : gn!reader, 1.5k wc, royalty!au, contract marriage/marriage of convenience, fluff, smitten reca bc what would he be other than smitten, a little hint of bittersweet at the end if read between the lines aha...
A/N : ....i have a paper due monday. i havent started it. why do i do this to myself. (reca i love u can u not hear my cries and wails as fic after fic appears in my brain for u...)
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Duke Reca of the northern territory; to many he is a well-accomplished noble, a young genius set for greater things, and the owner-slash-founder of the top theatre company. He is an idol — a role model to those who aspire to be more involved in the artistic side of the world.
To you, however, he is an absolute lunatic, the bane of your existence, and your contractual husband.
It's not like you had much choice. It was either: a) remain as a hollow puppet whose strings danced at your family's fingertips, or b) find some way to escape with outside power.
You, of course, chose the second option. Unfortunately, that somehow led to you meeting the young duke when out in the shopping district, trying to escape the suffocating presence of your family's knights accompanying you by running into a secluded alleyway, even if it was for but a momentary breather.
It was a whirlwind of a meeting... quite literally. Bodies flew; clothing tousled; breaths stolen. Well, at least for you it was like this. He, on the other hand, looked right as rain. (Lucky bastard.) You hadn't realised it was him at first, too absorbed in hasty apologies and the numbing bloom spreading across your backside like a wildfire (really, they ought to incorporate more padding in these flimsy clothes!), but when he uttered an apology of his own for not paying attention to his surroundings with an arm outstretched to help you stand, your mind all but blanked. What was someone of his status doing in a dingy alley? Didn't the newspapers report word of his self-confinement, having not stepped foot outside his manor in fervent preparation of his upcoming performance?
No, never mind all that; wasn't this a blatant opportunity being presented to you? An outside power that could help you escape the clutches of your family...
With gritted teeth, all sense of self-dignity was cast aside as you grasped his outstretched hand with both of your own, gazing into his widened eyes with your own narrowed ones.
"Your Grace, I know this is hardly the appropriate time nor place, but please... marry me!" Your words echoed within the enclosed space. Duke Reca blinked slowly down at you, and it was then you realised you never elaborated. "In... in a contractual marriage of convenience, of course."
"Oh?" he grinned, amusement and intrigue twinkling in his eyes. "And what is it you can offer me?"
"I..." Truthfully, there was nothing you could offer which would be beneficial to someone like him who had everything at the tips of his fingers. You were but a speck of dust in his world, merely floating and remaining unseen within his view. But even so, here you kneeled before him, his gaze wholly fixated on a speck of dust such as yourself. If nothing else, you at least had your desperation — a desperation to be your own person. "My lineage may be from that of a baron's, but I am confident I can be of use to you if you would permit it. So long as you accept my offer, I will do anything to aid you, whether that be through practical means or a performance you wish to see."
A beat of silence.
"Ha... haha... ahahaha!!"
And, as if things couldn't get any worse than a sore rear and disgruntled self, you were pulled out of your daze by a pair of gleaming carmine eyes, a maniacal grin, and his body, now kneeled just like you were, so very close to your own.
"That determination... how brilliantly you burn with such an expression!" The sheer glee which bled through his tone sent shivers down your spine, having never realised someone so esteemed had such a side to him. The duke breathed a breathy laugh and slightly backed up, his hands still holding your arms. "Alright, I look forward to seeing how brightly you will shine in your performance, my dear leading actor."
...Was it too late to back out and find an alternative solution?
Admittedly so, for the next thing you knew vows were declared and you were moved into the duke's residence. You could still remember your family's aghast expressions the moment you declared you were marrying Duke Reca and thus cutting ties with them. It was oddly freeing to see their contorted faces reveal their true nature.
Life as the duke's spouse was... something, to say the least. His servants and attendants almost seemed to have shed tears of joy at the revelation of their ever so lonely duke (their words, not yours) finally settling down and getting married, asking you questions such as how you both met, what drew you to their duke, who popped the question first, why you chose him of all people, so on so forth. It was... cosy. Something you admittedly weren't very accustomed to, but found yourself welcoming nonetheless.
One thing you never expected was for the duke to have a little pet of his own; a little toad dressed in a miniature beret and matching suit, at that. Assistant Director is what Reca had called her, and you think for someone so obsessed with the arts he ought to up his naming sense. She was also quite susceptible to compliments, something you discovered when commenting on the little toad's cute attire, with the duke's baffling translation of her bashfulness and her own compliment on your own looks. Apparently. You're not really sure, but you're inclined to believe it ever since she claimed a spot on your shoulder.
As the days-turned-weeks-turned-months bled into each other, you found yourself oddly lost at how well-adapted you have become of your new life and the duke's personality. From impromptu displays of affection both in and outside the manor to sporadic radio silence on his end when wholly consumed by his fervent passion for a project, you sometimes wonder just how you're still alive with the amount of heart attacks the man has given you.
But despite his... eccentricities, to put it lightly, there are times where you can't quite put a finger on certain expressions he would make when he thinks you're not looking. They're unlike his (once again, to put it very lightly) passionate eyes when rambling to you during mealtimes about an upcoming performance the troupe has; unlike the sheer mania he can exude when something truly sparks his inspiration; unlike the playfully smug grin he would give you when swooping down in dramatic flair to press a long kiss to the back of your palm; unlike the rare darkening of his expression that you cannot help but stiffen at when something or someone in the troupe doesn't quite match his expectations.
No. These ones are... soft. A kind of tenderness and unprecedented longing able to be identified if scrutinised close enough. It was evident in the ghost-like touches he would trail along your skin, as though afraid just a little more force would do irreparable damage. It was evident in the attention to even the most minute details, having everything from clothing to food to the decor suited to preferences you yourself never realised you had. It was evident in the way unadulterated fondness leaked through his tone when his unique terms of affection for you slipped through his lips when all was silent and you were supposed to be asleep.
"My dearest star..."
...Much like now, it would seem.
The bed dips by where your knees slightly bend, hidden under the beige covers. A familiar musky scent surrounds you not long after, and you find yourself involuntarily relaxing at the comfort it brings as your head further burrows into the pillow.
You want to stay awake, even if it's just for a second longer, to hear what he has to say to your less than conscious state. But, oh, his fingers threading through your hair and softly massaging your scalp and the gentle touch of his forehead against yours and the subtle comforting warmth that rolls off his body in waves does little to help you fight the sleep which easily takes over.
Oh, whatever! You'll just try and catch what he has to say next time.
Eventually your breathing evens out, only soft snores now heard within the large shared bedroom. Upon noticing this, Reca cannot stop the fond smile which lifts the corners of his lips, nor can he prevent the softening of his eyes as he continues to gaze at your sleeping form.
"My dearest [Name]," he whispers into the dead of night. Even now, several months later, he still cannot believe his luck to have run into you in that alleyway. It must have been fate which made him heed its call, urging him he would discover something sure to escape that terrible slump plaguing him for weeks on end.
Sure enough, it brought him to something irreplaceable; something he has been searching desperately for.
You.
And, with the tenderest of kisses pressed to your forehead that would put even the most sickening romantics to shame, he murmurs words of promise against your skin, an oath he swears to uphold no matter the obstacles which stand before him.
"In this life, I will ensure you have only the best of endings."
if you enjoyed this, reblogs and/or comments are greatly appreciated <33
Character : Dr ratio, Gallagher, Sunday, aventurine, argenti, blade, Dan heng, Mr reca, Jing yuan, gepard, luocha, welt and boothill.
May contain NSFW content
⚠️ Minors do not interact please ⚠️
Edit 1 : due to some grammar error I make, I change some of the words for my mistake
Dr ratio switch in my heart, there's always two outcomes when it comes into smashing, one of you guys are gonna lose and drain while the other one basks in light and happiness, and after smashing he will return back into his studies or he will teach you about his new theories while you just lay their exhausted. Or the other outcome where you win, his face would be covered in red and you would occasionally tease him while he muffled a shut up with his exhausted voice.
Gallagher immediately made your favorite drink for you after the deed was done, and sometimes when the bar is empty and no one would be seen. You and him would sneak into the back to have your break time together. He would compliment how amazing you were and how he wants to do it again but both of you have shifts in the bar so you guys have to continue it later on.
Sunday would be a blushing mess, even before him joining the astral express he would have some knowledge about intercourse but have never experienced it, but when you came along you have open his eyes into a new world of pleasure, during a session you would occasionally kiss the piercing on his wings and that would cause him to blush and cover his with his wings. And right now he's very much wishes to learn more about this new world.
Aventurine, very much love to tease you. He would put unnecessary bets so you and him would do it, every time he wins a game he would say you are his grand price after a big game. He would be smirking the entire time after finishing. Originally I like the idea of him actually being nervous of initiating intimacy due to his past but you made him feel secure and complete he completely learned how to open up. And when you kiss his mark he would immediately ingulp you in a big hug seeking your comfort.
Argenti, would praise you non stop about how beautiful you were and everything about you. He would start to worship you similar to how he worships idrila one time during a climax, he thought he saw the light and fully convinced you were the reincarnation of idrila. The bed would be covered with rose petals and both of you are lying there, he with a satisfied smile while you with a tired look .
Blade, he pretty much doesn't know how to initiate aftercare with you but he tried his best. He would wipe you with a warm cloth around your body making sure you're comfortable in any position although cannot say the same thing about your body after being twisted and moved into different positions during the entire duration of the time. He would also bring your favorite food. Pretty much sure he can go for more than another round but doesn't want to exhaust you. Even worse when his mara struck is awake you won't be walking anytime soon.
Dan heng, would brew tea for both of you making sure you are comfortable. Making sure your comfortable and warm by using the pillows of the astral express and when he's in heat you and him would stay in his room for a week with food being delivered into your rooms the best part of the archives that it sound proof making sure no one knows your business and during intimacy he would let his vividyahara self out because his comfortable with you in his true form.
Mr reca would praise you about your performance and immediately start clapping after the deed was done. Would make love scenes inspired by you guys or record to watch over and over again. He said it's a masterpiece on how both of you guys move in sync as well how angelic your voice is. Would write about a Script describing how perfect you were during intimacy. As well as talking about his new movie ideas with you during finishing or aftercare.
Jing yuan, would immediately fall asleep and give you a death grip hug. His hair is disheveled and sleep with a satisfied look as if he just finish having the best time in his and when you wake up he would be admiring you as if he had been admiring you for hours and if there's ever work the day after, he would arrive a little late due not wanting to leave you or would go to work not without leaving a note and a goodbye kiss on your fore head there's food and tea ready for you to wake up. He's very clingy post intimacy.
Gepard, a blushing mess, even tho his the captain of the silver man guards he is a total puppy in the sheets very much and you treat him with so much love and caress his body with so much love he would explode any second if not, would be very red in the face and shy. He so cute, he would not initiate intimacy in public but you would usually visit him to drop his lunch and it will always end up him a blushing mess and tired.
Luocha, a Disney princess, his hair spread along the sheets with his hand over his head and breathing heavily. Even in this state he would still be very beautiful like a flower, would initiate after care by healing your bruises if he ever went overboard. Would bring you hot water for your throat after being exhausted and stretched. Would leave kisses around your body.
Welt, this old man. Very clingy after intimacy would hug you 24/7 as well sometimes being awkward sense he doesn't know how to react. He would be very disheveled after intimacy and would initiate cuddling. He doesn't want to let you go after you guys came together this is perfect for him. A perfect scenario and perfect dream.
Boothill, right back at ya partner, you guys know the song saves a horse ride a cow boy well that's him. Every time if he wants Intimacy he would put his cowboy hat on your head and that's to give you the idea of what he wants. You are his reward and sun for him. After intimacy his hard drive would be overstimulated and you would be wearing his cowboy hat.
you talk back to them in these cute little squeaks, and with how miniscule you are (you fit into their palms, literally !), they really cant help but coo at you. you're so adorable and dear to them, they're so busy looking at you and keeping you entertained that they dont realize how people are looking at them weird. oh well, the world doesnt have a cutie like you 24/7, do they? who else in the world has a dangly little thing they can swing around and make jinggle and squeal? who else can they threaten to eat and scare shitless with minimal effort? who else can they just shove in their pocket and feel this doll-like thing squirm against them? they're the luckiest person alive !
