You felt his gaze before you even saw him. It was heavy, oppressive, and suffocating. It had followed your distinct form the moment you arrived to this strange place. Oddly enough, you didn’t sense any kind of threat, which is partly why you never pursued.
After losing sight of Mr. Crawling, you found yourself alone in a long, dark hallway with the trusty crowbar in your hands for company. Not that it mattered— at this point you were more of a threat to others than they to you.
There was a cacophony of eerie noises that resonated throughout the empty space. Soft dragging steps, a swish of something… and then he appeared. Your mystery stalker finally had a face. He was freakishly tall with short, bright red hair. From beneath his bangs you could spot a pair of dark eyes. His coat and umbrella were red as well.
Immediately he neared, speaking in a low tone, “Your name… I want. Tell me.”
It was instinctual for you to attack—the crowbar smashing against the side of his head. You hadn’t taken kindly to being approached so forwardly as some of these beings could be equally dangerous. Though it was better safe than sorry in such cases. You’d let your weapon speak for you. When you turned to leave, thinking he’d gotten the message, he—Mr. Scarletella—appeared in front of you once more. Since he seemed to loom over, this time he bent a little, his head tilted, causing some of his hair to spill to the side. He spoke again, “I like you… you like me?” You’d gotten used to understanding their speech but there were times where it took you a moment to discern what they were trying to convey.
You mirrored his action and tilted your head, “No.”
This answer seemed to displease him and he pressed further. “Name… your name… I want.” You took a moment to consider. Clearly he didn’t mean you harm as he would’ve made his move already. The reason as to why he ‘liked’ you was still unknown. “Beg.” You answered. Mr. Scarletella's dark eyes widened in what you presumed to be glee, while his lips spread into a smile. Immediately he dropped to one knee, his head lowering into what appeared to be a bow—his long red bangs hid his face. The umbrella in his hand shook with excitement. “Name.. name…” he called in a soft-er voice, waiting for your answer. Pleased by this obedient display you couldn’t help but laugh softly. It was almost endearing, really.
Unable to help yourself, one of your hands—the one not holding the crowbar—moved to rake his hair. “Okay.” You finally replied. “(Y/N).” A low, shuddering sound escapes him—not quite human, not quite animal—like a purr mixed with static. Mr. Scarletella leans into your touch before suddenly surging forward to wrap his long arms around you in an intense embrace. The red umbrella clatters to the floor as he crushes you against his chest.
He speaks feverishly into your ear. "(Y/N)... (Y/N)... My (Y/N)..."
His pale skin is cold as ice but trembling with something dangerously close to joy—or perhaps obsession.
“Your (Y/N)?” you repeat, not embracing him but not pushing him away either. He replied, “Yes… my (Y/N)..” and squeezed harder as if to prove his point. “My (Y/N)… My killer…”
Finally he pulls back just enough to stare into your eyes, his pupils swallowing all light in them—like bottomless voids fixated only on you. He leans in and presses a simple kiss to your mouth. Though you rolled your eyes, your free hand grabbed the back of his neck firmly. “What are you.. my dog? My slave?” A shudder runs through his tall frame in thrill, and for the first time since you've met him, Mr. Scarletella looks genuinely flustered. It was difficult to tell with the dark lighting but his face flushed a faint ghostly pink under that pale skin. “If you.. want me.. be.”
With terrifying devotion he crushed you once more to his body, like a haunting knight pledging fealty, waiting for the command of his mighty ruler. “Okay.” You dropped the crowbar; it fell with a loud clang which neither of you cared for and caught his face between your hands and Mr. Scarletella's eyes fluttered shut—like a cat basking in worship. His sharp features soften under your touch, that usual eerie intensity replaced by something almost… vulnerable causing you to grin.
It undoes him completely. A tiny, breathless noise escapes him—something between awe and surrender. When he opens his eyes again, they're shimmering with an unsettling devotion: pure obsession wrapped in the form of absolute submission to you.
Hi I don’t exactly know if I’m doing this request roughy so bear with me. I was wondering if there can a request a Tsunade Senju x fem reader smut.if not that alright and thank you.
Oh! I’m not really into Naruto (fandom) anymore but thanks for asking nonetheless!
Hihi!! I'm the one who made the shen Qingqiu ask and I'm fine with anything, really!! Sfw and nsfw, but my biggest want rn is just what if... Reader was his wife? 👀 Or him proposing for her hand in marriage after that whole scandal with luo binghe. Don't mind my delusions, please, I just wanna hug him cus he's so pretty, and thank you for accepting my ask!!
Of course dear. Just give me some time to find my Shen Qingqiu drafts that must be buried underneath all my other works in progress
I don't know if this is too much to ask for and I'm really sorry if it is, but can you make more of those shen qingqiu x f!reader x luo binghe? I really liked the one you made and there's barely any 😭 especially shen qingqiu since I'm more interested in him, if this is too much for you please ignore it. I hope you have a great day!!
Hi, thank you— I’m so pleased you like that piece. Of course, I’d be delighted to come up with something for you. Do you have suggestions? Would you want it to be sfw or nsfw?
Author’s Note: The interpretation of their connection is up to you.
North, 1857
You were already in bed when the sound of screams and shots woke you. Hearing the commotion, you sprang out, wondering what had occurred for there to be so much noise this late. Slipping on a large coat, you inadvertently glanced at your growing belly. It made you hesitate for a second, capturing your attention before you blinked the forming thoughts away and buttoned the large layers to shield you from the cold.
Stepping out from the captain’s cabin, you witnessed all of the men huddled, a look of terror over their faces. Turning to the captain, who was closely kneeling down to an injured man in a stretcher, you opened your mouth, “Father—”
A beastly roar echoed through the ship. “Bring him to me!” You couldn’t see very well amidst the crowd of men, but the intruder brought a chill down your spine. There was a strangeness to him. He was tall, more so than the average person, and he was covered by tattered clothing. Not only that— but he’d completely overpowered five men in an instant. You watched helplessly as the men groaned and yelped in pain before being thrown off. Still beside the man in the stretcher, your father commanded Larsen to fetch the blunderbuss.
“Victor. Victor!”
Frosty puffs of air escaped your lips, eyeing this stranger with fear and intrigue as he approached, calling for this Victor. What could he possibly have done to be hunted like this?
You covered your ears at the loud sound of the firearm hitting the creature once, twice, thrice before he fell over the side of the ship. All of the crew, even you, ran to see as this man-monster landed with a crack.
“I killed it.”
It was then, after a moment, that he rose again. Everyone hurried to lift the ladder so he couldn’t climb aboard again; instead, he began to hit the hull, managing to actually move the ship. You, who had been leaning over, gasped as the momentum caused you to topple over while the rest rolled away. A sharp cry escaped your lips on the way down, knowing you’d suffer a broken neck or perish at the hands of the monster. It was within a few seconds that gravity pulled you towards the arctic ice with no mercy.
Awaiting death, you closed your eyes. Though there was an unceremonious bump, you felt no pain, as if suspended. Opening one eye, you quickly realized why you weren’t a splat on the ice. The creature had caught you in his arms—the same one that had shaken an entire ship. He could’ve easily crushed you right then and there. But he didn’t.
Your heart hammered in your chest. The two of you stared at one another. Despite the violence he had unleashed upon the crew and the mysterious man, he was surprisingly gentle in the manner of your handling. Eyes raking through what little parts of his face you could see, you eased. There was pain in this being’s gaze; and it struck the cords of your soul.
The men atop the ship screamed with worry but didn’t dare to shoot lest you get caught in the crossfire. Tearing your sight away from the man that held you, you lifted an arm, signaling that you were alive. “Stop!!” And for a brief second they did cease their mayhem, watching warily as the man gingerly placed you down. Backing away, you kept staring at him, missing how your father shot at the ice instead. You flinched. The ice creaked within vicinity that you could only step further back. Though when the man began to slip inside the frozen waters, you tried to reach a hand. “Ah!”
He sunk. Into the depths of the dark sea.
—
“You should rest.”
“No.”
There was no moving you from the edge, still watching into the distance for any sign of the man or beast—as they referred to him. Though, as the doctor tended to the man called Victor and your father spoke with him, you decided it was best to find out who the creature was. Perhaps it would clear a few things. Entering the captain’s quarters, you took a seat, giving the stranger a wary look. He’d brought down death into this ship and for that, you didn’t trust him.
As you reclined against the window, Victor’s gaze was drawn to the protruding stomach of the only woman aboard. He was briefly reminded of his mother, who was pregnant with his brother William, and the last time he saw her before death.
You heard the man’s tale with scrutiny, listening to how he’d played God through science. It almost seemed too ridiculous to be true, but the proof of his sayings had been witnessed by you all.
The day quickly rolled by, growing colder as evening set in. There was the ache and discomfort of sitting for hours that you were almost lulled to sleep. As your father stood to go talk to the crew, the door slid open. The man grasped your father with ease and raised his fist but was promptly stopped by Victor. You were the tiniest bit grateful towards the latter as you’d been too obviously slow to react.
“My maker… told his tale.”
His fist was lowered. “Then I will tell you,” his eyes briefly moved towards your direction—though he could’ve been easily looking at Victors as well—“..mine.”
You were utterly captivated by the creature’s story, compelled to comfort him for all that he’d suffered. He was a man that was not quite a man—but one made up of different parts of several men. And he (for the creature had no name) was utterly alone; rejected by his creator, cruelly cast aside like a failed experiment.
—
Bidding goodbye and granting forgiveness to his dying ‘father’, the man moved to leave. “Wait!” He turned at your cry. Hand outstretched in his direction, you spoke with resolve. “I wish, no—I want to go with you.”
“You want.. to go with me..?”
The captain let out an incoherent grumble of disapproval. Ignoring him, you continued, “Wherever you go, I will go.” The man tenderly reached for your hand, his fingertips touching yours with the greatest of care. Your palm slid against his. He could feel the warmth that emanated from your touch pressing onto his cold skin
“Absolutely not.”
You addressed the captain. “Father..” It was a silent plea, begging for permission to be released by the familial shackles that protected yet restricted you, so you could start anew. You knew that it was hard for him to let go of his daughter, his only child from his beloved wife whom was no longer in this world. There was a sense of guilt in him for leaving you both for long periods of time. And after your mother’s passing, you’d been attacked in an irreparable way. Ever since then, the captain took you with him on these lengthy expeditions which were like a personal hell for you. But, you were both each other’s only family… until now.
“Go to St. Petersburg. If it is meant to be, we will see each other again.”
You afforded the captain a genuine smile, still linking hands with the creature-man.
—
“Oh! The sled dogs are still there..!” you pointed and walked faster toward them, trying to appease their barking.
“Nn!”
He watched you place a hand on your stomach. “Are you.. hurt?”
You smiled at his worry, “No. It’s just the baby inside me. I reckon he’s feeling excited.” His eyes were drawn to your figure and though there was an inkling of child-like excitement, there was also anxiousness of potentially hurting you. That is, until you motioned him over. “It’s alright.”
The creature allowed you to take his hand, gently placing it atop your belly. He had to wait a few moments before the baby kicked and he nearly flinched away. You grinned. “This baby is very animated so I know it’s a boy. My mother said I was so calm in the womb that she feared I was dead. So I’m glad he’s active… at least I know he still lives.”
It was a holiday so you had ushered the servants to spend the week with their families.
“Hm. Look at them, fluttering with excitement..” you observed from the large window of your study as the maids and cooks jumped giddily while walking out of the property. A few of them turned and waved, with you returning the gesture with a small wave of your own.
The estate felt oddly quiet as most of its inhabitants left, all except for one. “Are you quite sure you wouldn’t like to spend your time elsewhere?” you asked without turning, knowing Lan Xichen was always nearby.
A soft voice answered from behind, “No, my lady. I’m more than certain that I would rather be here than anywhere else.”
Finally moving away from the window, you swiveled with a smile. “Well, then. I won’t chase you off. This is your home too, after all.” Xichen opened his mouth and you knew he was about to offer you refreshments but you beat him to it, “You don’t have to serve me. Spend your leisure however you like.”
“But—”
“I’d appreciate it.”
“…very well.”
—
Of course; not three days later and you were wishing you hadn’t been so dismissive towards Xichen, regret quickly settling into your bones. Perhaps it was because no one was tending to the chimneys to warm the manor that you ended up feeling ill.
So now you laid in bed, tossing and turning. “Where is he..” you groaned. Almost like a ghost you wandered… well, stumbled throughout the manor and towards the servant’s quarters, seeking your black haired butler. “How dare he… leaving me to tend to this illness alone… hm…” you mumbled a bit feverishly as if you were not the culprit behind these actions.
Trying not to slip down the dark stairs, for you missed a step or two, you neared Xichen’s room. Reaching the doorknob, you stopped upon hearing the sultry noises coming from beyond the wall that separated both of you.
Despite being raised to not eavesdrop, your curiosity won over your manners and so you leaned an ear against the door. “Master, my master…ngh!”
Pulling back like you’d been burned, there passed a moment of stunned silence, Xichen’s noises never ceasing. In fact, it seemed that he was close to—
“Xichen! How can you do this…!!”
You burst inside, uninvited and so did he.
The sight that greeted you was so obscene it was permanently burned in your mind. He laid there, in bed, one hand fisting his manhood while the other held a familiar shirt to his face. White spurted from the head of his shaft precisely the moment you entered the room.
Dick: You’re being way too cryptic for me to figure out the first hint
Jason: Wait, that was a hint?
You: It’ll take too long for you to figure it out so I’ll just tell you. I bought plushies of everyone! Isn’t that great? I was walking around after Alfred sent me for errands when I passed by this shop. They even had one of Red Hood, Jason!It was an exclusive. Though I had to fight a mom for that.
Barbara: You have to let me see mine!
Jason: Can I see mine?
Damian: …… I want to see mine.
[Attached photo of all the plushies lined up perfectly in your bed, with the caption “Thankful to Wayne money for financing this.”]
Jason: Damn. How much did these cost, all together?
You: Safe to say you’ll be going without dinner for a week.
Barbara: Damn.
You: It was merely a jest. The food and the plushies are all secured 🫡
Damian: Okay but why did you buy plushies of everyone?
You: I thought it was utterly cute. Unfortunately I am not a brooding hero like everyone so I do not have one. Perhaps I’ll ask Alfred to sow one of me.
Barbara: The thought of you with a plushie of yourself makes me want to laugh.
You: How so, Barbara Gordon?
Damian: You’re immature, for one…
You: Until I see evidence I will not yield.
Damian: You literally bought plushies for all of us.
You: For you? I apologize for the misunderstanding. They’re mine.
Dick: So, what? Do you sleep with them?
You: 🤭 not telling
Tim: That’s a yes
You: The house gets lonely when you all are not here. Even Alfred gets busy.
Jason: ..That’s actually kind of sad.
You: …! Do not pity me!
Jason: Too late.
You: How could you betray your sister like this, Jason Todd?
Jason: My heart is filled with nothing but pity for you now.
You: Un-fill it then
Jason: No
You: I suggest you pray that your food does not have any spit in it. Good day, beloved siblings and Barbara ☺️
I got inspiration from a post but I cannot find it to properly credit, ah!
Young Dionysus arrived to the mountainous terrain of Nysa in the middle of the night, the stars shining bright as Hermes delivered him dutifully to the satyr-god Silenus, Ambrosia— his nursemaid-to-be, and the rest of the Nysiades.
To protect the infant from Hera’s wrath, the Nysiads raised him for many years.
Dionysus’ memories were filled with the echoing laughter of nymphs, the tympanon jingling as palms beat the center causing the zill-like objects on the rim to shake. His days were spent dancing as they held hands in a large circle.
Amongst the beauteous nymphs was a younger one, just the age of Dionysus. They often ran barefoot across the land, giggling after causing mischief.
And then, Dionysus grew, leaving Nysa for Greece.
He returned briefly, with the intention to have the Nysiads join him as members of his retinue. But he especially wanted the company of one specific nymph.
Truth be told, he was coming to take you as his wife.
Dionysus’ sandals trodded on the grass as he catechized Arsinoe and Bromia on your whereabouts.
His hand gripped the wine bottle tighter with anticipation at the prospect at seeing you again after this brief period of separation. He was elated, his skin burning with desire.
He greeted you, presenting the wine. At your smile, he nearly jumped you.
“Lord Dionysus.”
It’d almost been too long without hearing your voice.
“I brought this for you.”
Knowing that no one else had better wine other than him, you reached for it. “Thank you. I shall share your precious gift with my sisters.”
His grin faltered. Of course, he was fond of the Nysiads but right now— he wanted to be the only one to enjoy your company. “I see.”
“I suppose that’s all well. I just thought you’d want to drink with me..”
“Oh..!”
“Yes..”
There was a moment of awkwardness between you two. You cleared your throat, “Ahem. You want to drink with me?”
You clutched the bottle to your chest. “Not that I can compare.” His reputation preceded him, after all. His cult of followers were always in a frenzy. Dionysus let out a snort at your comment, amused.
“And you’d be right, my dear. You cannot.”
His slightly arrogant tone was tinged with truth. “Naturally. I am the god of wine. Haven’t you heard?” He joked.
“I have heard, my lord.”
You and he chuckled for different reasons.
You could always, despite his cause for madness, feel at ease with him. Dionysus managed to make you laugh, his words were targeted to swoon you. In Dionysus’ case, he thoroughly enjoyed your usage of “lord”. He sought to take it directly from your mouth.
He had this insatiable thirst for you that unfortunately for you, couldn’t be quelled. His eyes examined everything about you. From the strands of hair to your youthful face, and the curves of your body. His gaze settled on your collarbones that poked above your tunic — his urge only increasing with each passing moment.
Almost as if drunk, he swayed forward. Normally Dionysus wouldn’t be this restrained but he had a fear of scaring you from him. “Your beauty is unique amongst ages.” He breathed right by your ear.
He was close enough to feel the subtle heat emanating from you. “Shall we?” you proposed.
“We shall.” He eagerly reached for your hand, leading up to a clearing, settling on the bed of grass, the wildflowers as spectators. Dionysus tugged you down; the two of you now sitting down on the soft ground. Without taking his eyes off you, he lifted the bottle to his lips and took a long drink, letting out a contented sigh. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. After a moment he saw you reach out.
Dionysus took your hand carefully, feeling the softness of your skin against his. He noticed how delicate your hand was against his and the thought of how it feels to have you so vulnerable and close gave him mixed feelings: on one hand, it gave him a primitive desire to possess you, to control you and keep you by his side forever. On the other hand... the desire to protect you and guard you from every harm.
His gaze is locked on yours as he brings your hand to his full lips. You blinked in surprise, “Ah.. the wine, my lord.” Dionysus chuckled as he realized what you meant. “Of course.” He said, his lips curving into a playful smirk. Releasing your hand, he lifted the bottle to your lips, tilting it slightly and letting the sweet liquid touch your tongue. He watched you with a mischievous gleam in his eyes, waiting to hear your opinion.
“Mmm—” It was a bit much, swallowing more than intended, you pulled back. Dionysus watched in fascination as the sweet liquid dripped from your lips and onto your elegant robes, pooling in the hollow of your collarbone.
His breath hitched, gaze glued to the drops of wine that marked your neck. Suddenly, the need to lick the liquid from your skin was overwhelming.
Dionysus watched as your laughter filled the air. It sounded like the music of the nymphs, sweet and alluring. His heart was pounding again, and he had the sensation that his skin was burning.
He reached out, his hand trembling slightly, and with his thumb, he caught a drop of wine on your chin, bringing it to his mouth, and licking it.
The sweet taste of the wine mixed with the scent of your skin was almost too much for him.
His hand moved to your cheek, gently cupping it and wiping another drop of wine from your neck with his thumb, his touch leaving a trail of fire on your skin.
He can't take his eyes off you, and the sight of the wine staining your robes is both incredibly enticing and torturous to his senses. His thumb rubs circles on your skin, the touch is almost reverent.
“Lord Dionysus..”
—
Please don’t blame me. I often have the habit of leaving stories unfinished but I thought, better publish it now than never.
Lan Xichen announced, gently knocking on the wooden door before opening it. He pushed a silver cart with a steaming pot of tea and a tiny tray of scones.
Sunlight streamed inside the bedroom as Xichen opened the curtains, illuminating your figure still resting, not stirring in the slightest. He found your sleepy face endearing—a gloved hand ghosted over your cheek before moving a strand of hair away instead.
Ever since Lan Xichen had been erroneously ejected from his world and transmigrated to yours, he’d graciously been taken in by you. When he had no clothes, you clothed him. When he had no food, you fed him. When he had no place to sleep, you offered your home… Since then, Lan Xichen swore to repay your kindness a thousandfold, especially when he knew the burden you carried. Now, he served as your loyal butler.
“Young Master,” he called again.
When you did not rouse, Lan Xichen finally pushed the sheets aside, tenderly cupping the back of your neck with a hand as he maneuvered your body into a sitting position.
You let out a soft grumble, frown burrowing but eyes stubbornly remaining closed. “Arm, please.” Automatically you did as told, linking an arm around his neck as Lan Xichen easily carried you bridal style to the velvet stool facing your vanity. You sat there, eyes fluttering with sleep as your faithful butler grabbed a robe and placed it around your shoulders to keep you warm.
Obviously fatigued, you remained still as Xichen’s hand reached for a hairbrush. “Master, you appear to be more tired than the usual,” he remarked, brushing your locks, carefully untangling any knots. “Mmn.”
“Perhaps you’d do well to retire early from now on instead of staying up late to read detective novels.”
After finishing all of the tedious paperwork that you’d neglected for weeks, you’d chosen to read the most recent novel of your favorite author. You finally put the book down once the words began to swim around the page. By then it was well past three o’ clock.
Gazing at your face through the mirror, he fought the urge to comfort you. He knew there was a genius behind your moments of laziness, but right now he had to focus on his duty. Placing the brush down, he wheeled the cart closer. “Lavender honey scones and darjeeling tea, Master. Imported from West Bengal, infused with muscatel and floral notes.”
Lan Xichen picked a scone and brought it near your lips, nudging against them in a soft insistent manner. “Master, please open up.” Finally, you grazed him with your wondrous eyes, moving his hand away from your mouth. “Brush teeth…” you muttered with a long yawn. Xichen's lips twitched into a faint smile at your mumbled comment. He knew that you valued the importance of cleanliness, even in a state of drowsiness. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small bottle of mouthwash and a clean cloth.
“Of course,” he replied, voice smooth as his gloved hands uncapped the bottle. “Let me assist you.” Lan Xichen carefully poured a small amount of the mouthwash onto the cloth before his fingers gently tilted your chin upward. Xichen’s touch was light and gentle as he dabbed the corner of your mouth first, ensuring no crumbs lingered from the night prior. His gloved thumb pressed on your bottom lip, urging you to expose your mouth. Throughout the entire time, Lan Xichen's expression held an underlying tenderness.
“Xichen…”
He felt the heaviness of your half lidded stare. Xichen’s heart palpitated a bit harder when he heard his name escape your lips in that drowsy state. His grip on the cloth tightened imperceptibly, the call evoking butterflies in his stomach. At times Lan Xichen wondered if you knew the hold you had on him. “Yes, Master?” He inquired, speaking the honorific with care and respect.
“You’d make a first-rate husband..”
Lan Xichen's eyes widened in subtle surprise, a faint flush of crimson spreading across his fair cheeks. Your remark had caught him unprepared.
He paused for a moment, the cloth still pressed lightly against your lips. Lan Xichen inhaled and spoke in a low, vulnerable tone. “Do you truly believe so, Master?”
“Mn. I’m envious…”
Lan Xichen's breath hitched, his throat tightening slightly. Your words stirred forbidden emotions within him. Always composed, Xichen had trouble remaining so as this unfolded. His fingers withdrew the cloth from your lips, setting it aside, and leaned into your personal space, his knee pressing more firmly against yours as an instinctive gesture of comfort.
“Envious?” He questioned in a quiet yet pressing tone, his eyes searching yours for answers. “Of whoever marries you..” His lips parted in astonishment, disbelief and a flicker of hope warring in his mind. He reached out instinctively, taking your hand in his and intertwining his fingers with yours.
Lan Xichen’s thumb brushed soothingly against your knuckles as he leaned in closer, finally comprehending your statement. “(Name), you are envious because you wish to marry me yourself…?” He dared to use your name with familiarity, leaving a pleasant taste on his tongue, perhaps sweeter than the lavender honey scones he’d served you.
You blinked the sleep away, looking at him with a level of seriousness and authority. “Don’t marry.” Xichen's breath stuttered at your order. One of his hands came up, his gloved palm ghosting over your skin. For a moment he felt resentful of the piece of cloth that impeded his flesh to settle against your own. “Is that your command, Master?” Xichen’s light eyes dropped to your lips, then back up to your eyes, his expression a mix of devotion and anguish at the perhaps-cruel prospect of being yours.
Without thinking, his fingers tangled gently in your tresses. You let out a small gasp and grabbed his wrist, “Stay by my side.” Lan Xichen’s Adam's apple bobbed at the sight of your half lidded gaze which was intensely reaching into his chest and groin, stirring feelings that were positively inappropriate.
“Always,” he breathed, his voice thick with promise. “I will remain beside you, for as long as you wish, Master.”
This was a request. I’m not sure if I did good, but I tried. It’s a bit short though.
“One more time..”
“No.”
“Please… I’ll be good… just one more time!”
You huffed annoyance and pushed Kieran’s shoulder away with your foot, but he grabbed it and began to crawl upwards, stubbornly kissing and licking at your left thigh as if to convince you to keep going.
It’s not that you didn’t want to continue having sex with Kieran, but it was more that you liked the feeling of denying him what he desperately wanted.
After all, this was only sweet revenge for his original mission to ruin you.
Being at M’s behest, Kieran was sent on his behalf as a ploy to end your bloodline—only because one of your predecessors had tormented M when he was human.
How was it your fault?
Nonetheless, you figured none of that mattered to them and they were most likely motivated by pure unadulterated boredom.
“Aa-ow!”
In your brief moment of distraction, Kieran had taken advantage and aligned himself before fully sheathing himself inside you. Despite his initial roughness, Kieran was, you learned, surprisingly gentle. His tongue poked out of his mouth and lapped at your neck as his hips began to move, slowly at first—pushing out some of the seed he’d already left in you during your previous round of copulation. You sighed in defeat, cradling the back of his head.
It felt good. Kieran felt good.
Perhaps this wouldn’t last, but you wanted to enjoy it for now. As if in agreement with you, your legs parted even further. Your nails dug into Kieran’s back as he bit down on the crook of your shoulder. “Ha-ah..!” He pulled back, proudly admiring one of the many marks he’d left on your body.
Kieran hugged your leg, thrusting sloppily as he reached climax. “Get pregnant get pregnant get pregnant..” he muttered. Ever since he first slept with you and he saw his seed leaking out of your spent body, Kieran had been filled with this innate desire to breed you. And so, he’d been fucking you nonstop.
Kieran would do anything at this point just to succeed in this new personal mission. “Oi.. nghh stop saying that..” you complained, but didn’t actually deter him releasing inside. He collapsed on top of you, sweaty boding pressed against each other. “More, more..” he muttered mindlessly, a rogue hand reaching over to squeeze your breast. “I want to breed you.”
You embraced Kieran, and looked up at the ceiling. “Yeah, yeah.”
dededos
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romaincrisis
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discoholicmusic
stormborns
dailybridgerton