Spirit

basic rules ♡︎ ao3 ♡︎

About me: 🍒🫒𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓊𝓃ℯ𝓏🫒🛕- she/her -- GENSHIN/HSR writer

I am mostly a 𝓈𝓂𝓊𝓉 + character x reader blog so plz don’t interact if you are not comfy with those topics!・★**+森

Here’s the - KINKTOBER MASTERLIST 🍸

Sypnosis:: your on a yacht, troubled by their partner Ajax's recent distant behavior, canceling plans and being less communicative. Your friend Kazuha offers comfort and warns that a storm is approaching, while Captain Beidou promises to defend you if needed.

a wild party erupts on the ship and the predicted storm worsens, you search for Ajax. After asking a friend who reacts with a grim expression,you rush through the chaotic party toward the stateroom where Ajax is, dreading what they might find behind the door..

WORD COUNT- 4.2k

_____________________________________

The crisp ocean breeze,cuts trough the cool mist of the horizon. stirring ever so gently against your skin.the sky above of the yacht is a warm harmony of reds,pinks and clouds forming like fuzzy peaches, bunched together in a glass fruit-bowl.

An impending sense of doubt floods your mind. Ajax. You and your partner Ajax have been in a relationship since high school, he’s always been to type to party,get drunk, make a mess of his life.He jokes to you about it now that you both are In college, how somehow trough that same mess, he got lucky enough to find you.

he’s been acting strange lately. Your on Beidou’s yacht, she’s the president of the maritime sailing club, both you and your best friend Kazuha joined, two years prior. The gaudy though,now, frayed ship is set to sail in around half an hour from now.

You were seconds away from going back to staring off into the distance, wallowing in your misery before a familiar voice erupts your thoughts. Forcing you into the present moment.

He’s wearing loose, throughout, black washed, wide leg jeans.and a vermillion sweater, rolled up to his elbows, Revealing both the cheap and costly bracelets he’d traded at xinyans concerts throughout the years. The same sweater he shamelessly stole from you, which you first stole from Ajax.

“Do you always have to speak in ballads and roses?” You chime at him, as he hands you a can of chilled orange crush. You take it thinking it was probably sneaked from the ice box.

“Something weighs on your mind. Care to share it with me?” He asks, cracking his own drink open, the carbonated fizz, hissing in your ears. His voice remains soft and open but nevertheless solid. Leaving you no room for excuses. With a reluctant sigh, you free your can too. Taking a listless sip.

Before finally speaking up. “It’s Ajax,his schedule has been inflexible lately,he’s canceling dates last minute, coming home less and has been remote in our texts…it’s almost as if he’s-“ you pause, taking a deep breath in. Afraid that if the following words, pour out of your lips.

They will harden into existence. “Well?” Kazuha asks,his tone a mix of concern and curiosity. “A-almost as if he’s avoiding me..” you break out. “Is he getting tired of me? Bored? Am I boring?” You question.

"The world is full of people who simply drift with the wind. But you... you are the wind itself. To call you boring is to be deaf to the song of the storm.

They are simply fools who do not know how to listen." Kazuha says to you, you know he’s being honest but how come a part of you doesn’t believe him? Kazuha, sensing your uncertainty,Rests his hand on your shoulder,a little polar from the icy soda can he’s holding.

And signals you to follow his eyes onto the sunset. “The currents will be strong tonight” he points out, gesturing towards the pinkish cloudy sky. “I have been detecting small fragmented flurries and a potential cyclone. I’ve made due to detail beidou on the subject, to cut off the event but..”

He stops for a moment, as if trying to comprehend the sheer assurance she had in herself. “But she reassured me she had it under control, that the waves shall be tamed and if tempests dare to rock the ship to its grave, then it will rise and conquer twice as boldly.. “ he looks at you, “so I will be staying in my room,for safety’s sake, the chaos and depths will be unyielding. If Childe comes and bothers you any more, then I’ll have to ask you now to come to me.” “Thank you kazuha, I’m sure we’ll be fine” You reply.

Kazuha opens his mouth to say something more but is conveniently interrupted by beidou vocal cords. “HEY FLOWER BOY! “ she shouts, arms waving in the distance. “Are you going to help me with the seafood or what?!”

She pipes, strutting over, throwing a welcome arm around your shoulder,pulling you close. “You too dream boat!, okay so I wasn’t snooping, but I did happen to overhear the stress that flimsy ginger has been causing you. Now if that little French fry hurts you hard? Let me know, I’ll make him walk the plank, we clear?” Kazuha exhales, exasperated but fond. “miss beidou we don’t have a plank.”

“Oh well you get the idea, the crux will kick his ass!” Kazuha and beidou give you a supportive, protective look, their way of saying your backed up. Eventually, hours later where the mellow sundown fades into turns into a hazy bruised purple. The unfledged hum of xinyan’s rock anthem swallows the boat As the neon,multicoloured lights dance across the ships floors.

Bouncing across the sides in rainbows. As kazuha said the tide is growing rougher, clashing against the hull, nearly tipping the whole boat over.

If it were any other captain on board, who knows what would have happened. The clank of beer, whiskey and the laughter of the crewmates, buzz in the distance. The party has long since begun and you’ve been avoiding it since it started.

You’re wearing a sleeveless, thin,pale white dress. The waist is cinched hugging all your curves in the pale moonlight.the skirt below flowing at the ends in fluttery ruffles. Leather boots and kazuhas leather jacket, “for warmth” he said, as he lend it to you hours earlier. You’re leaning against the rail, gazing upon the endless ocean as you were just this evening.

“should I check on him?” you ponder to yourself for a second before pushing of the railing with enthused finality.

You amble over the the heart of the function. The attenders roaring with glee as Itto, stands atop of one of the tables, in nothing but his boxers, grinding against an ice statue, Giving it a mock lap dance.honestly it’s too good to be fake. You wonder where in the world he possibly learned how to do that as your eyes drift to ganyu,bless her , frantically stressing over the drunk oni infront of her. The beat gets only noisier and lustier as you walk deeper into the gathering. It’s hoe down chaos Kaveh drunk, hysterically sobbing against a confused diluc’s shoulder.

Shenhe and xiangling attempting to stack a skyscraper with Cheeto’s and melty cheese sticks. Ifa doing a saxophone cover on the roof.

You turn you head again at the heavy chime of a crowd to see the same ice statue from before, being now thoroughly thawed by Itto and ororon as they ride against it.

A sigh escapes you before you feel a gentle tap on your back . You look behind your shoulder to see Tighnari. “Hello Y/n are you looking for someone?” He asks you. “Oh hey, and yeah I am, do you know where Ajax is?” You ask him, earnestly. His face shifts into a grim expression, as if he just now understood something askew before fixing into a shadow of its usual appearance. “He’s in the stateroom” a weird mix of relief and despair swirls your mind before you know it you’re moving towards the stateroom.

Your pace increasing at every step you take. You walk trough everything. Half naked macho men, over enthusiastic chefs, the stressed women in stem and the hard rockers.

As if resonating with your urgency, the waves shriek and crush into wallowing heights. the boat morphing, soon revising to adjust to it. The clouds settle into a murky ashen grey as the light airy drizzle from above becomes a heavy rainfall. the dew is soaking your body trough your clothes but you don’t care. And keep moving, wrapping your coat around yourself. Your damp hand grips the handle with strikingly profound might.

Your grasp remains still with anguish, as a million prospects rush trough your head. From the strain of tighnari’s eyes to the vexation in kazuha’s voice, and beyond the hurt you felt at your partners absence. all pinpointing to the terrible, nightmarish reality that he’s seeing someone else.

”No.. no there’s still a chance..” it’s a pathetic thought, really. While the truth was so glaringly obvious, it would be more confusing if it were to be anything else.

You hear the airy sound of laughter, emanating from the room. With an antagonized breath, you swing the door open, and the sight is just as sick as you imagined.

Ajax, perched down on the ruggy, velvety sofa. Grinning sheepishly, under eyes crinkled,as if he’d been smiling his whole life. The dim golden light casting upon his jousting features. Freckles scattered across his face like shattered constellations.

His hands rest loosely against an evasive silhouette, yelan, her sheer blue lipstick already left faded kiss marks across his face.

Her tighs, wrapped around his own, as she sits atop his lap with terrifying familiarity. She’s murmuring something in his ear, you can’t hear it, but the tone remains charmingly arrogant, leaving little to the imagination and even less on what she has most likely told him before.

“Ajax?” You call you to him, your voice quieter and significantly more weaker and vulnerable than you intended it to be.

his ocean blue eyes go dark with shock when he sees you.

”y/n?”

time stops, before that cold trench of sadness, dwelling within you,evolves. Hardnening into a greater, fierce vein of constrained fury.

”we are done, congrats on finding a new whore to hurt”

you tell him, then walking out.

you are going to drown this man.

The boy who partied.

the boyfriend who promised.

the traitor who cheated.

and the man you once loved who is currently skidding across the room, chasing after you like his life depended on it.

”Y/N WAIT!!” Your, broad , freckled, now ex boyfriend calls out.

The rain is stronger than ever,you think he’s calling you because he wants to “explain what happened!” But you don’t realize that’s he’s actually screaming his lungs out to warn you of the colossal wave thats about to swallow you whole.

…..

The world flourishes into a ringing field of glacial pain. The bright sorrow, shortly grieving itself into a throbbing red ache,withering within the chasmal burrow of your resolution. A stifled chorus, hails your name like a whale song. Seeming to dissolve in airy bubbles, while the newfound distance begun stretching into, what was ten feet, is now a universe away. From all and anything you could possibly bear to imagine.

What has happened?, what will become of you now?. The lasting conscious thoughts fade as if the thick darkness below you, swallowed the light from your mind.

Here you are, submerged in the tranquil wakes of the deep. The bustle of the life which you had once rested among, washed away into a pleasantly hushed miserere. Soothing you to ease your eyes and let a placid, lire of slumber, lull you towards comforting,complete hands of the waves.

____________________________________

You wake up to the sensation of sloth-like seaweed atop your forehead, the centre peal,sticking to the damp water you seemed to just miraculously escaped from.

“What the…” you move to get up, your legs screaming in response, taught muscles strained and worn from the crash you’ve earlier endured. After reaching some form of compromise with your weakened body. Your lean back against the cold stone of the cove you’ve found yourself in.

You dart your eyes, skimming across the soaked,mellowed grotto.

The caves walls dented with crystals of wise violets in moon tainted hues, almost glittery, visibly majestic. The centre pool is an intricate little, yet nevertheless shunning fragment of the oceanfront. It’s a deep,clean turquoise with teases of green, only ever noticeable with the right light and right tilt of your head.

You cautiously dip your hand into the water. It’s shockingly warm. A stark contrast to the relentless downpour you’ve just wrestled with for what feels like hours ago. It’s as if you’ve always been here,or maybe this space has always been with you..

Your gaze drifts to the heaps of shiny seaweed, drenched upon your thighs,forehead and arms. The vines slimy but healing, you try to think about

All the medicinal benefits of seaweed you’ve learned about trough your many courses. Yes it can help if digested but never have you heard of muscle relief.

‘What could have done this?’ You wonder, swiftly caught off by the ripple within the moon pool. Instincts pushing your back against the nearest boulder. A figure arises, a boy. Skin pale like untarnished pearls, ones specially dusted with preeminent flurries of aqua. Tearful droplets of emerald pathed the path of his delicate features, as if it was a blessing from the hands of heaven itself. His hair, lose and weighed down from the Neptune he’s now drought without. Feathered ,virescent streaks of sage, finds itself, waning from the elegant, jet black roots it grew from.

The tide turns with his force, as he shifts around to take a look at you.

His eyes are green,like sea glass and northern lights of your hometown.

His expression, gentle, welcoming and confusingly dreamlike.

“Oh you’re awake..what a relief” he sighs dramatically. “I was afraid you’d be asleep forever.” He’s gliding over to you now, webbed fingers, clutching onto the stone, inches away from you.

Your walls build up, “I -I was”

“You were drowning you know? I could feel it in your heartstrings, the sorrow, the frustration and the weary voice in your ear that told you to give up and let go.”

His tail is a shimmer of teary pastel greenstones,each scale knotting into one another, like a harmony. He leans forward, soft lift, brushing the shell of your ear.

‘Have merfolk ever heard of personal space!?!” You internally question to yourself . Before he raises a hand and rests it atop your heart and murmurs in your ear, his hot breath trickling against it. He smells of ocean salt, Cecilia’s and honey?.

He gazes shifts from his hand of your chest to your eyes, his look full of sympathy as if he can telepathically see what you’ve gone through, the suffering you’ve had to endure to end up here. At rock bottom. With him.

“Why?” He asks

“Why what?”

Why did you listen, why did you let yourself drown, most humans thrash and scream in the water, why did you give up, why did you accept your fate?”

You stay quiet, a part of you too prideful to admit how trusting you were to let yourself get cheated on. Another part of you,believed that he must have long since known what has happened, and you wouldn’t have to say a word at all for him to understand you.

Silence stretches, he extracts his hand from your heart and brings it up to cup your dampened face, he later proceeds to presse a cold,lingering kiss to your cheek. A burning sensation lights up within you.

“Don’t worry my pearl” he tells you, his voice glazed and smitten.

“I will free you from that pain, I will make you forget all about that human” he murmured against your skin.

His webbed fingers and splayed above your stomach. Emanating a neonate glow. The energy spikes trough your core, causing a weak, un painful tingling sensation behind.

“Ah- w-what are you doing? What is that?”

You ask, as he extracts his palm. Your eyes fall to where his steered away from. And to your surprise, he left a shining wind sigil on your abdomen.

He kissed you, with gentle passion, poking the mark sending a hot rushing dance across your veins, like silken wire.

“Aah~!” You cry out, “W-we cant!, we shouldn’t!” You tell him, trying your hardest to convince both him and yourself.

“Hmm? But why not my flower?” He muses,tucking a loose strand of wet hair behind your ear., the pet name slipping from his lips so naturally it’s as if you’ve always known him.

A blush creeps up your neck as he stares at you with those puzzled, vast emerald eyes. “I I mean, I don’t even know your name!” You stammer.

“And I don’t know yours, my flower” he counters.

“Well.. I just broke up with boyfriend..so it would feel off putting to just pair with someone else”

“But he is no longer your lover right? It’s best to forget about him. No?”

He enquires, but the canny look on his face tells you that he’s infallibly attained the truth. So you seal your lips shut and don’t say a word.

He can’t help but let out a hearty laugh your reluctance, silence is only ever evidence of honesty after all. “Clever girl” he hums, with meek approval. “Merfolk are blessed with the natural gifts of charm and delight, though charm must come with a dept. a dept of deception one might say.” He lazes his palms upon your shoulders with reverence and appreciation he hasn’t quite brought himself to reveal before. “Holding back is wise of you.”

The core of his hand, presses against the heart of your belly. He kisses you deeply, earnestly. Wraps both of his silver skinned arms around your neck and tunefully takes you under.

*splash!*

——————————————————————

You can’t feel your legs. Venti, you caught his name earlier. Somewhere between the blurred provision you both conversed in before he snared you beneath the waters.

He has you flipped sideways, his cold hands gripping the plush of your trembling thighs as he eats you outs. Greedily dining in all of your juices His radula-like tongue gliding across your sea-soaked cunt.

“Aah-~T-to much~!”

He holds you over. Your trembling body is practically sitting on his face now. The nub of your cunt bumping against his nose as his tongue drifts into aptly unrestrained upward strokes. His Teeth, near shoring the puffy flesh of your pussy before flattening his tongue, kneading it softly as if to apologize afterward. of He does not pull away for a single breath.

Your hands are gripping his hair like a lifeline, yet even when you try to haul him closer or bore him back, he won’t move an inch. Despite his angelic stature. His hold on your body seems to be set as stone.

Another flash of white, blazes trough your soul and a divulging solace shakes you to the core and suddenly all the thoughts in your clever mind, conflates into a brim of bubbles. Jeering it to mush.

“Ngh v-venti! Dont-!”

Before you can finish. The gentle merman swallows what you rivered. Pulls back and rests his cheek against the inner wall of your tigh, delightfully licking the juices from his mouth.

He pulls you into a hidden grotto or a bed of glowing coral, then surface from between your thighs with a dazed, worshipful look—saltwater dripping from his silver hair, bioluminescent freckles flickering on his cheeks.

He presses a kiss to your trembling thigh, and softly whisper against your skin, voice like a lullaby and a wave all at once. "My little pearl… you taste sweeter than the nectar of deep-sea blooms. Even the ocean’s currents couldn’t wash this honey from my tongue."

you blush once more and squirmed, earning a grin from him, sharp canines glinting, and lazily trace patterns on your belly with a webbed fingertip. "What? Did you think I wouldn’t notice? Every time I dive between your tides, I come back drunk. You’ve ruined mortal wine for me… but I don’t mind."

he flicks his tail, wrap it around your ankle, and pull you closer for another taste, humming a shanty about the sweetest catch in all seven seas. While peppering kisses from the hollow of your neck to the frantic pulse of your wrist.

Your soaked, drenched practically, despite the fact your half submerged in water. You’re so dazed you can barely register the weight of his cock slipping inside of you with an almost apologetic reverence.

“I’m sorry my pearl,you looked so beautiful I couldn’t wait any sooner. Worry not my flower, I’ll be gentle.” He promises

he hikes your thigh above his hip for better balance and kisses you hotly, as he starts to glide his cock trough your walls. Skimming trough your gummy interior, filling you up so completely with his affection for you, in no way you’ve felt before.

your nails,almost instinctively scratch at his back as he speeds up with his inhumanly thoughtless pace. It’s so warm, and the air of the cove is so shallow, you start to think you might pass out again from the relentless, unstopping penetration of him. But you force yourself awake, not just to remember this but To appreciate this. This fleeting moment of pleasure, a fortune of gratification laid at your feet.

How lovely would it be to preserve and lock this memory away for no one to discover. He presses a slow kiss to your shoulder as he fucks his beloved heart and soul into you. He’s panting and nearly worn down but shows no eagerness to put a halt to things.

Please… let my devotion be enough. Let me prove how sacred you are to me. Every wave inside me breaks for you. Say my name… let me hear my god.

”venti…~” You sigh, tearing up up from overwork and lust alike. you cry his name over and over until and after you forget How you came here, why you agreed to this, what made you so desperately impassioned to unremember the cheating and the drowning and the suffocation of sea water filling your lungs in that cold blooded ocean.

This is not suffocation this is liberation, regardless if you are now in deeper ocean than you were before. His pace quickens, and so does your heartbeat. transcending beyond repair, let alone the need of it.

He releases within your womb, and presses a chaste kiss to your forehead before shrugging the rest of his cum inside you.

before slowly pulling out, his hands on your hips to keep you in place.

”ngh ~” you moan out, another round? You question to yourself, before you can reach for the finned creature, a shattered riptide echoes trough the walls. You snap your head to the source of sound to see a painfully familiar figure swaggering towards you both.

It’s Ajax. A placid smile stretches his freckled features as he looks at your body with longing. it’s not a gentle kind of longing. It’s the longing of a man who learned what it’s like to lose a treasure worth a life time, could feel., and has promised himself to fish it back, no matter the cost.

Behind you, the water breaks in a long, slow exhale. You feel him before you see him. the current shifting warmer, the salt thickening on your tongue.

"You came back." Childe's voice is rough, scraped raw by something deeper than the sea. He surfaces shoulder-deep, bioluminescent scars trailing down his ribs like lost prayers. His tail moves slow beneath the moon, fins flickering—nervous. The sharp grin is gone.

"I'm not asking you to forgive me." He drifts closer, hands open. "I know what I did. The riptide. The leaving. The way I made you feel like a shore I'd already abandoned."

He stops an arm's length away. His chest rises fast.

"But I remember the night before it all fell apart. The way you touched me like I wasn't just a storm to outrun."

He reaches—not for your ankle, never that. His webbed fingers find your wrist, palm to cool palm. He pulls your hand flat over his heart. It beats slow, deep, like a whale's call from the abyss.

"Let me make it up to you," he murmurs. "Not with words. With this."

His other hand settles on your hip, thumb pressing lightly. No pulling. Just holding. His tail curls beneath the surface, brushing your calf, a question, not a cage.

"I'm not asking for tonight," he says, and his voice drops lower, darker. "I'm asking for tomorrow. When the moon is higher. When the tide swallows the sandbar."

His forehead touches yours. His breath tastes of sea spray and copper.

"I'm going to take you to the deep shelf," he whispers. "The place where the water goes black. And I'm going to spend the whole night showing you exactly how sorry I am. With my mouth. With my hands. With every inch of this body you used to beg for."

He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. His pupils are blown wide, black as the trench floor.

"Say yes. And tomorrow, I'll ruin you for anyone else."

You thought it was funny at first, teasing your quiet, blushing boyfriend about how thorough he is. How he keeps a little leather-bound notebook in his toolkit. How he mumbles measurements under his breath

like a prayer.

Then you commissioned him to make you something personal. And Freminet? He treats it like a dive. Methodical. Obsessive.

Beautifully focused.

He measures you with his fingers first. Calls it "calibration." His thumb presses slow circles while his middle finger sinks knuckle deep into the trove of your pussy. he's counting seconds under his breath like you can't hear him. You can. You want to hear him.

"Three point two centimeters to your clit," he murmurs, forehead pressed to your thigh.

"Seven minutes forty-one seconds average to first orgasm."

You laugh breathlessly-and then he holds you right there on the edge for twelve agonizing minutes just to test your refractory window.

And he takes notes after.

The Repercussions

Here's the thing about Freminet. He's shy.

He stumbles over dirty talk. He goes pink when you grab his belt loops.

But his hands have memorized you.

Every ridge. Every flutter. The specific angle that makes your vision white out. The exact pressure that pulls those pretty little gasps he pretends not to collect like seashells.

He doesn't need to be bold. He just waits.

One night you're teasing him about being too gentle. "Come on, Fremi-"

He doesn't speak. Just slides two fingers inside, crooks them that way, and watches your mouth fall open. No movement. Just pressure. Just knowledge.

You cum in six seconds flat.

He blinks at you. "You were saying?"

The Bullying Tax

You learn fast: every time you tease him in public, he repays it in The Bullying Tax

You learn fast: every time you tease him in public, he repays it in private.

Pinch his cheek at the café? That night he's pulling orgasm four out of you with just his thumb on your clit and his pinky barely inside you, whispering "Are you going to be good now?" in that soft, devastating voice.

Call him "cute" during a fight? He'll edge you until you're crying his name, then stop completely and ask "Who's cute, again?"

The worst part? He looks sincere. Like he's genuinely asking. Like he hasn't already calculated exactly how many seconds until you break

Message or hold to speak

He builds you something eventually. A toy shaped from silicone he hand-poured, weighted perfectly, curved exactly to that spot he found on the third test run.

But you barely use it.

Because why would you, when Freminet already knows-when he can make you cum with two fingers and a look? When he can map your pleasure like the ocean floor he loves so much, every trench and current memorized?

He's not controlling.

He's just so thorough.

The sweet spot he found on the third test run.

But you barely use it.

Because why would you, when Freminet already knows-when he can make you cum with two fingers and a look? When he can map your pleasure like the ocean floor he loves so much, every trench and current memorized?

He's not controlling.

He's just thorough.

And you? You've stopped teasing him.

Mostly.

FREMINET SMUT HEADCANONS

Freminet would absolutely have a dominatrix/master preference. perhaps something.. anything that gave his partner power and dominancy over him, Or rather, to put it in more gentle terms. Solicitude and utter, complete Guidance.

He is smittennnnn when you go to extremes. Regardless if your incredibly soft and loving or rough and demeaning. Anything that illustrates the sheer handle of control you have and how precisely you wield it. Gets him going.

He also loves it when you put all your weight on him, whether it’s during intimacy or just day to day lounging. He doesn’t care how much. I like to think he finds a peculiar sense of comfort in pressure. It doesn’t matter if it’s the harsh emotional pressure of the house or the heavy but nevertheless predictable pressure of the ocean he so loves to sink within. He doesn’t care about the weight of it. It gives him a cold sense of security and want. The pressure from the hearth comes from expectation and to expected is to be needed. And all he ever wants to be is needed, required. So no one would question why he stays.

While the light pressure of you sleeping against him, or pressing your hands upon his shoulders to balance yourself and to also keep him in place, while riding his cock is far more grounding. And far more alluring to him.

Something about the way you lean your head against his shoulder after a particularly diminishing orgasm makes his heart soar. Of course He isn’t always the sub, there are times where a counterbalance is required and he makes the bold choice to top. He loves seeing you tremble, breathless. The simple thought of him making you teary eyed and unraveled for once is one of the everlasting pillars of his desire.

Again all he wants is for you to need him. Not in a possessive want for dependency. But a quiet form of intimacy, he wants to be the shoulder you can cry on. The friend who you can share your secrets with. The partner who worships you so deeply you forget your own name. Just make sure to be gentle with him and don’t make him cry too much from overstimulation. He’ll get back at you, Somehow.

POV: Rerir with a mortal reader

Mortal memory is abysmally weak when parring with ones whom once sinned before reason. You don’t recall much since you’ve first came here,Into this abandoned tomb of a forest. basked with bitter layers of what was once whitened snow fall, fatally tainted with what is now crimson bloodshed. Regrettably, you find it to be quite difficult to relive your motive for passing here. Lone within darkness,untroubled beyond solitude. *sigh* it is no matter. If one is not mistaken, I’d assume you have much more…crucial affairs to tend to.

Don’t you, y/n?..

——-~

You can’t help but squeeze your eyes shut, a meek effort to push the bliss away. Your Throat has been selfishly scraped raw from all the cries of pleasure rerir has stolen from you. Now here you are, pinned to a half frozen tree, getting your guts fucked out all because of some stupid taunts you teased him with. His hand is clamoured against your mouth, shutting you up, you’ve lost talking privileges around 40 minutes ago.

His other hand, unsurprisingly massive, rests securely and effortlessly spams across and in between your hips, holding you up with an iron grip, forcing you to take all of him and his huge cock till death parted you.

He’s thrusting, deep and hard into you, his towering tip reaching all the way up to your solar plexus. His girthy dick has long since made its signature in the form of belly bulge, bumping into his palm on your stomach. Which he harshly, thoughtlessly presses down upon just to see you squirm and writhe under the surface of pressure from a sinner.

He always derived a sense of humour from tormenting you. He is monstrous in bed, and always had his fun watching you cry from just his fingers. He takes pleasure in mercilessly wrecking you until your legs are numb and can’t even stand up for yourself. He also prefers to be in control, holding you by your arms. shifting your weight, and dragging you up and down his cock like a rag doll. Since your legs arm temporarily paralyzed and arms are securely kept in place. The objective and purpose of your pleasure is entirely his to dictate.

It always isn’t a bad thing, he can, if he’s in a good mood, be.. not gentle but less aggressive and more complaint oriented with it.

But usually you can expect overstimulation, orgasm denial, digression or condescending praise similar to how a teacher would praise a slow student. Or a dumb, though nevertheless eager to learn puppy.

Do not mistake his stillness for coldness, he does have a heart for you. And will treat you leisurely afterwards. But don’t try to defy either. It’s not like you’d be able to move for the next month.

Imagine how much strength you’d need to top childe in bed and be the dominant partner for once.

even if you do manage to take lead. 99 percent of the time it would be solely because he wanted some entertainment, and enjoyed seeing you struggle to push his girthy length inside of you. He be sitting down, (man spreading as he usually does….) relaxed, at ease with his familiar smug ,boyish expression and leaning back against the velvety cushions with that stupidly, intoxicatingly sexy lazy authority, peeking out even when he’s technically off duty.

Eventually once her sufficed you’ve had enough to playtime, selfishly using him to please yourself.

He’d take you, not gently but firmly by the wrists. Yank you so your front is pressed against his chest. Your ample breasts bundling against him.

He’d never admit it but your softness drives him crazy, and you can put that along with the sweet way the shampoo you use smells on your soaked, water weighed hair after a shower.

Speaking of showers, he loves shower sex, or beach sex, or public sex, were your both moments away from getting caught by the lingering millelith near your casual date spot by the riverside. Hell he’s down to bend you over and back, anywhere at anytime. Absolutely shameless, though when you tell him that he always just smiles that sheepish smirk, the one that reminds you of the man beneath the armour. Your lover, your partner, the one who makes the best pancakes in the world and would set the world on fire to hear the chime of your honeyed laugh.

He’d tell you, he’s brave enough to fuck anywhere in the world with you because he’s proud. Because he has you not in a possessive way (though he is frankly the most predatory man you’ve encountered) but because your his as yours, that you saw him, his work and all the violence he leaves in his wake and chose him, all of him, the cold exterior and the volcanic, scorching heart warmed with love so strong that people run from out of fear of being burned. And for that he can never be more grateful to fate for meeting you.

In return he’d take anything you give him. No matter how bland, tasteless the food you cooked is, or weathered the scarf you knitted is around his neck. Or how bright and sore the scratches on his back are or how red the hickeys blooming across his neck are growing to be. He’d eat it, wear it, endure it and flaunt it all with pride.

He loves it when you claim him as much as he claims you. It reassures him that he’s wanted and excites him when his lover is courageous enough to mark him.

Dating Childe requires alot of strength and acceptance. Acceptance for his habits, his actions his trauma. And the strength to see trough the pushing horror of it all and embrace him for all he is. A son, a brother, a soldier, a monster and a caring, devoted friend and lover.

And after that point, you’ve seen it all. you’ve chosen your partner and you’ve decided you’d never trade him for the world. And neither would he trade you.

dating albedo would be an interesting experience. He constantly busies himself with work, his eyes darting towards his papers, not sparing a single glance at you. But the very moment you start to crave his affection he “coincidentally” completes his experiment earlier than expected and makes his way to you. Embracing you, pressing chilled kisses against you cheek and forehead as if to apologize for his absence.

He’s unusually soft and surprisingly sweet with you in bed. He’s a symbiotic human so he doesn’t run out of breath like most do, so he is more than willing to go as long as you like. He wouldn’t voice it out loud but a part of him is quite fond of you, using him as an object for pleasure, he often finds himself sitting comfortably upon his seat, tempering with his subject, still as stone, as you ride him. His heart cant help but clench every time you roll your hips against his. Letting his biologically cold cock, warm in the cozy walls of your hot cunt.

Your juices, drooling as you release, and his icy body finally melting as he finishes inside you.

Lots of kisses from him. You can always expect a tender kiss atop your arteries. Inner wrists, nape of you neck. Wherever he can feel your steady pulse.

He cums inside you a lot, and also might have a subtle breeding link, though sense he is artificial his semen contains no seed but he’s always thought the concept of life and sexual reproduction fascinating. Something about two separate beings conjoining and creating one wholehearted creature sparks his curiosity. Though he more so loves releasing inside of you to bask and witness the beautiful look on your face as his fills you up.

How your eyes flutter shut, the quiet quiver of your body, pinned beneath him, so stunning, so perfect.

He has urges mid sex to just marginally stop time, and sketch and paint a portrait of you because of how radiant he thinks you are.

he spoils you rotten afterwards, wraps you up in blankets, shielding you from the biting cold of dragon spine, sunshine sprats, hair strokes and don’t be surprised if you stumble upon sketches of you weeks later.

Summary- You told your Ajax. that’s it’s okay for him to be rough and that he doesn’t need to hold back and be so gentle with you, he shouldn’t be that hard to handle.. right? Your thoughts are quickly run over by a train as he proceeds to shift into his foul legacy form and fuck you senseless, you’ll keep your word. Won’t you?

Word count- 827–

It’s almost as if your being dismembered.

Hot melty juices , flood trough your soaked cunt, as the harbingers dick, stuffs your pussy full, shoving impossibly deep inside you and withdrawing just as  just as Coldly, leaving mellow shadows of pleasure in its wake.

“Come on кролик can’t keep up?” He teases before thrusting his pulsing member inside you once again.his aroma of sea salt,musk, and the ocean is suffocating. His member is evolving into a continuous, merciless, and for what feels like ever ceaseless attack, strategically aimed right at your cervix.

He’s in his foul legacy form. his rough, battle hardened hands grip your hips hard enough to bruise. He has you flipped over on your back, laying against the cool floor of the golden house. His violent rugged pace remains a undeniable constant, yet his mouth is kinetic, he brings his teeth to the nape of your necks, grazing just before harsh bite, sending shivers down your spine, you cry out, seeing stars as he presses impossibly deep into you, recklessly ramming.

 “Stop squirming. You’ll only make this more fun for me.” He grumbles, breath steamy as the hot air trickles against the shell of your ear.

He kisses you,a mindless, careless, starved kiss. You can’t help but hold your breath as as he ravages you further. Tongues twisting , as if attempting to weave into one another, he pulls his lips back from yours, to give a slow, strikingly sterlingly tender  peck to hollow of your cheek and crown of your forehead.

“AHm~ T-to much~!” You moan out. Subtly  surprised at yourself that you even managed to conjure up a clear, audible sentence to begin with.

"Too much?" His voice is a guttural rasp, but the question is soft. He tilts his huge, helmeted head, a clawed hand gently (as gently as he can manage) tilting your chin up to force eye contact. He's searching your face, not for weakness, but for the truth.

Your lips are swollen, tears stains, paving the path of your cheeks, his claiming bite marks, skim the map of your skin like sweet constellations with perfect geography.

 He watches the rise and fall of your chest as you pant, out of breath, beautifully out of breath.

 Then as if finally passing clear judgement a slow, predatory grin spreads across his face, a hint of razor-sharp teeth showing. "Liar."

He chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that vibrates through his chest and into you. "You say 'too much,' but you're still here. Still holding on. Still asking for it with those eyes."

He rampages harder, he releases his monstrous grip on your ready bruised hips and latched them onto the sides of your upper arms. Pulling and pushing your body so your stomach is against the near freezing marble floor, the way your breasts perk and bundle up against the solid floor make you only wetter as the Childe continues his reign on your body.

Your back is rubbing against his chest with every shove, his hands grasp your hair and firmly brings your head near his, and speaks of all the delectably arrogant things he’ll do as he ruins you. 

How he praises you, how good you are for him, how full you are with him, how you take him so well.

“Look at you. Taking all of me. The real me.”A clawed hand carefully traces your sweat slicked spine.

“You say it’s to much-“ he groans.

“But you’re the one who’s ever been able to that exactly this much” he continues, peppering kisses on your upper back and neck, leaving a trail of hickeys behind.

“A-Ajax~” your mind is mush, all you can muster up is his name. You see flashes of white as you cum”

“I know, I know” he says, shifting forms to his more- less human form, his death grip on you softens into something more kinder, more lovingly soft. 

 He strokes idle comforting patterns in your hair, he showered you with praises and comforts and how well you were.

He thinks you’re so gorgeous like this,trembling,stimulated and utterly sexually cared for.

“Hey” silence follows.

“You did so good” he speaks, stroking your hair, with devastating gentleness.

"When I saw you crying... for a second, I thought I'd actually hurt you. Thought I'd finally gone too far. Thought you'd look at me like I was a monster and—"

He stops.swallows.

"But you didn't. You just... looked at me like I was yours."

His arm tightens around you instinctively. Apologizes immediately with a gentle stroke of his thumb.

"No one's ever looked at me like that. Not even my family. Not really..”

He goes quiet.

“I love you”

With a warm, cozy kiss to your cheek, your vision fades, the last thing you remember is the heavy weight of your boyfriends fatui coat, enveloping your shaking form, and the dizzying, familiar sensation of him scooping you up into his arms and taking you home.

Rest well sweetheart. Rest well.

A-Aah! T-Thoma slow downm!”

You cried out as the housekeeper went on to push three more finger into your now soaking cunt.

He’s pumping them even faster now, your body convulses with an impossible,unshakable pleasure. But it isn’t over yet, you haven’t came yet.

“There you go, Just like that, you’ve got the right idea.” Thoma encourages, helplessly yet oddly affirmative, inspirited he can pull at least two more orgasms out of his dear friend.

Your welled puffy pussy, now drenched with both his and your juices proceed to draw out and suck in his fingers with every thrust. He rests his open hand on your heart , both marveled and enchanted at the rise and fall of your chest as you pant,desperate for air and heat, The way small beads of sweat trickle down your chin, that expression you make, the moment the tips of his handy fingers skim trough your soaked gummy walls, to plummet and hug against your sweet spots.

Your vision goes white as you cum once again.

“Alright that’s one..” he mutters to himself before flipping you over on your stomach. one hand firmly pinning your wrists behind your back, forcing you in place. He quiets for a second, and you can hear the distant yet not so far off shuffle of conversation emitting from the unlocked door on the other side of the room. Neither of you predicted they would come before noon. You open your mouth to speak but quickly loses focus as Thoma grips your soft silky hair and presses your face against the inazuman satin pillows.

He bends down and partly but temporarily eases your face off the pillows so you can breathe and listen, his free hand, going to your mouth to keep you from saying a word. His thumb now mindlessly stroking your upper cheekbone, he leans in, lips brushing against your skin and he whispers, tone gentle but unwavering , “The door isn't locked. Anyone could walk in. So you have to be perfectly quiet. Can you do that for me? Can you be perfect while I'm inside you?" You shivers, feeling his breath hot, tickling against the shell of your ear.

Poor you can do nothing more but sheepishly nod your head as he starts to pound you, slow and steady at first but you can feel him increase his speed, just to move more drowsier if you lets out any noise. Punishment .you thought to yourself, who knew Thoma could be this mean?.

The tip of his cock grazes into the very crest of your sweet spot, earring him a quiver from you. You can’t see his face but you just knows he’s grinning. You can hear it in his voice as he coos to you with faux comfort “Oh, sweetheart, you're trembling. Is it too much? But you'll take it for me anyway, won't you? You're so good like this."

He pushes deeper, coaxing another shallow moan from you. the foot steps from the world on the other side, grow louder and more near.
He proceeds to shove your face deeper into the pillows, peppering kisses and pecks all along the curve of your shoulder to the peak of your neck, he speak, low and soundless below your nape “I love the sounds you make, I really do. But we both know you don't get to make them right now. So hush, my love. Just hush."

A part of you wants to punch him and make him wash and dry the overdue laundry a hundred times but your free thoughts are soon cut off by a sharp, sweet pain on your shoulder. Thomas biting and nipping at her sun warmed skin. Only then does she realize that he’s trying to keep quiet too. If either one of you were to be caught…

Oh well, that’s a problem for the future, “did he keep the door unlocked on purpose I wonder..?” You think to herself. “This kind of defeats the purpose of a sneaky link you know..” she mutters, muffled by the bedding your squashed against.

Thoma releases his death grip on you before he pulls his member out so he can orgasm elsewhere.

“Where's your sense of adventure sweetheart? The thrill is in knowing we could get caught… and choosing each other anyway."

You sigh”I guess you have a point”

Thoma finally gets up and pads over to the door, locking it just to strut back to you pick up an already pre dampened cloth, sit down and bat your forehead, in slow, soothing motions.

Making sure the cool water clears your head before easing you down onto the mattress.

Tracing light fingers over any marks.

“I was..intense. Let me soothe this. Does it hurt?” The housekeeper is back, and you rests you head on his shoulder.

“Sorry sweetheart, next time I’ll be gentler. I’ll worship you properly. Tonight was about my hunger, but now. It’s about you

Imagine if you commissioned Freminet to make you sex toys, and he had to measure the depth of your pussy to your clitoris, and the timespan it takes you to orgasm.

Along with the downtime until you can cum again. And how long you can last before overstimulation takes over you.

He tests this out all by innocently fucking you, and you press, tease and flirt with him enough by the end of it just know that he’s already learned and memorized your body inside out.

he can then pull moans out of you with only his fingers. He’s mastered your body, what makes you hitch, cry , writhe.

*sighhhh* Bullying him now comes with risky repercussions…

Deep sea reflections — ༆⁂❄︎

𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑𝑒 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟/𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑘

Texts in : this font,mean flashbacks, memories

Texts In : this font, mean present and current short story timeline

Dark skies and the bright stars of midnight rest stowed away above celestia as they always did, as you and your beloved Ajax sat on the rooftop of his family’s home like you always have.

The delicate snowflakes finally quieted down and decided to repress themselves for another day. Giving you and Ajax the chance to mindlessly chat about both everything and nothing all at once.

The past the present and the future

You’ve always discussed these things so why did his eyes darken the moment you mentioned marriage? There’s invariably

And infallibly nights where Ajax comes home and chooses not to speak at all.

“Just a little tired” he often tells you. You understand, you always took it as a comfort. A comfort that the both of you are close to the point neither of you need to pretend nor mask their feelings with false honesty.

“When we get married, let’s move into a cozy little cabin, in the deepest corner of the woods” you describe, gesturing your vision with your hands. A small smile curves at his lips noticing the familiar habit you’ve had since he’s met you. But his eyes remain cold and seamless.

“No one could reach us, we’ll be away from everything, no noise, no long missions just… peace, you know?” You continued, relaxed, kicking your feet a little.

He let out a soft laugh, the kind that you used to take as agreement.

It wasn’t.

“A cabin, huh?” he murmured, staring straight ahead.

Not at you.

You nodded excitedly.

Sheepishly.

“Yeah! You’d get to rest for once. Sleep in without wondering who’s going to send you where. You’ve done enough, you know? You’re strong. You could choose a different life if you wanted.” You went on.

He went silent, a long pause.

You always believed it was because he was listening, looking back it felt like a withdrawal.

You were so oblivious

“So, you’d quit someday?”

It was a harmless, innocent question.

Silence

“Yeah, some day “

That was 2 years ago.

Before you realized that Ajax will never stop fighting.

He would rather scream, shout, and mourn you then stop fighting.

He can’t stop, that’s all he believes he is, that’s all he is and that’s all he’s ever going to be.

“A soulless weapon”

You shouted, words coming out as more of a choked sob rather than a harsh insult. Looking back at it, it was more of a fact than an insult. Maybe that’s why it hurt. Maybe that’s why you couldn’t take it anymore.

He was so many things.

An unfeeling weapon.

A coward.

A pathetic excuse for a spouse.

Or just another one of your exes

So naturally you broke up with him.

He never loved me.. he never loved anyone, he’s incapable of it.

You walked away from him, and the part where he didn’t chase after you pushed you to go faster and farther.

You stopped believing in love

But you dread solitude, you wanted to be alone with Ajax since you declared he was all you required to be happy. Your main source of dopamine.

One That was unhealthy.

So you vowed the next instance where someone takes a liking to you, you will keep them as a partner.

Anyone, anyone whom may perish my thoughts of him.

Anyone whom may grace me to renounce my memories, anyone who can help me forget I ever loved him.

And so as it happened, someone did show interest, a slightly older aristocrat, fierce but loving nether-less.

He took you by your hand and kissed your fingers with a tender ease, his grip was firm but warm, unlike your former lovers.

You handed yourself to him

He always came home to you.

Communicated, expressed himself and his feelings.

Embraced you in a heavy kind of affection.

An intangible one.

“Tell me, my dear… which gemstones do you favor?”

“Ruby. Why?”

“For the ring I intend to place upon your finger, naturally.”

It was a fluent proposal, veiled with a placid expectation, you caught yourself relieved as much as you felt unsettled.

“Aright, just don’t make it too extravagant” you joked to him, and he gave a hearty laugh in rerturn.——

Most would think of you, shallow and dishonest for using him for convenience, a medicine to forget someone else, someone else you handed your entire heart to.

But you really did care for your newfound fiancé, he provided just the right amount affection, attentiveness and distance.

“ I grow more and more fond over time until your need for practically melts into reality” you kept telling yourself, repeating, phrases of truth and comfort every night until your wedding day.

He’s a selfish man, selfish, greedy, violent.

And ever since you left him, or ever since he let you leave, let himself pathetically stand there, and watch you walk away.

Where have you gone?

Where are you?

I miss you, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, come back,

Please come back.

Why aren’t you coming back?

It wasn’t until he heard the locals whispers of how a wealthy aristocrat was recently engaged to you.

His heart of stone sank to his stomach, to heavy shielded, to broken, to hardened and now just to heavy for his body to carry anymore.

He never realized how warm you were until you let go of him, it was a misgiving kind of torture, yet still an ever so deserving kind of anguish, a rotting, nagging kind of anguish. he slept in a cold bed, ate in an empty home, and fought with no purpose to protect, only to kill. A constant reminder of how he hadn’t cherished you like you warranted to be.

He lost you, a beautiful haven of light and fidelity, you and your sweet devotion,you and your longing admiration, you and your confining, doubtless, shattered soul.

Standing here now, he gathered himself with

Every shard of covet in his cold, frost bitten, spent resolve. And went on his way to sought you out.

Would you forgive him?, would you integrate his useless yearning, bloodlust and pathetic captivation into a world as pure, blooming and endowing as yours?.

Or would you laugh in his face and his money, ALL the money he’s willing to scrape up to purchase a smile as priceless as yours.

He barged into the wedding room, its walls high and mocking. A crowd of guests, family strangers, everyone alien to him but you.

There you stand, gorgeous,glowing, radiant

More blazing than the sun itself. The sight is vivid, and agonizingly pristine. Your fiancé rests, tall and propped next to you like a a groom on a wedding cake in the bake shops he’s passed by as a child, the grooms expression remains glad and faultless, as most engaged men are.He provided a greater intimacy than he could ever pull out of you after all.

“A-Ajax?” You call out, confused.

“Take me back.”

“What?”

“TAKE ME BACK”

“Please archons just take me back, I need you, I miss you, just take me back” he’s on his knees now, windswept and breathless, and sure as hell couldn’t care less about the crowd forming around you two.ignoring the stunned guests. His ocean deep eyes fixed on you.

“Every rule I have broken,every line I have crossed,was for this moment. To cross this one.”

"That vow you just made? It’s a lie. Because your promise was made to me first, in the breathless quiet of Snezhnaya, under a different set of stars."

"He can give you peace. But I can give you everything else. The terrifying, glorious rush of a storm at sea. A challenge that never ends. A love that fights for you, not just with the world, but with itself."

"Do you see this?" He gestures roughly to the pristine, safe scene around you.”This will bury you alive. It will smother the brilliant, fierce light that called to me across nations."

"Come with me. Not to a life of quiet dinners, but to one of sunsets on unknown shores and battles fought back-to-back."

"I am not a good man. I am chaos and hunger and unsated ambition. But the one pure, true thing in all that chaos… is you."

"He gets the ceremony. Let me have the rest of your life. The messy, dangerous, breathtakingly real part."

"Break his heart. It will heal. Mine…"His voice cracks, a rare fracture in his confident armour. Mine is a weapon you forged. Without you, it only knows how to wound its owner."

"Last chance, partner. One word, and I burn this careful peace to the ground for you. Just say yes."

“The choice is yours my love” he told you, crying now, the sun has been set and so has your final choice.

“Then let your heart be a weapon, Ajax. And let me be the one wound you learn to survive."

Would catboy scara be a dom or a sub? If so what kind would they be? Uh Asking for a friend…

This is Scaramouche btw not wanderer, like would he let himself be vulnerable around his partner?

𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑡/𝑙𝑦𝑛𝑒𝑦 —

𝑠𝑦𝑝𝑛𝑜𝑠𝑖𝑠: 𝗁𝗈𝗐 they would react if you asked if you could tie them up for a session

𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑠: bondage/ fem reader/ light smut/fluff

Lyney:

He’s caught of guard, but he’s not uncomfortable,

Just a little surprised by your boldness,he presses a hand dramatically to his chest.

“Mon ange… you really know how to keep a magician on his toes.”

He’s curious and always down to try new things with you as long as you don’t get hurt.

“Pleaseee” you plead

He leans closer, tapping your forehead lightly with one gloved finger.

“Now, now. Before I agree to anything, I must ask. what sort of trick are you planning? Because if I say yes, I already know you’ll have some… creative idea brewing.”

He’ll agree to it with not much hesitation, as long as your happy.

You tie his wrists with a pretty red ribbon, not to tight or to loose, and still incredibly easy for a magician of his caliber to wriggle his way out of.

He'd consider “freeing” himself to surprise you or maybe flip the tables in bed but the thoughts would fade immediately after seeing the sheer focus in your eyes as you ride him, doing everything you can to make him feel good.

“It feels good.. Maybe this can go for a little longer I'll make sure to reward them later to return the favour..”

He'd think to himself.

If it's harmless, safe, and your just teasing him for fun. Then perhaps he’ll allow it, after all,a magician isn't afraid of a few ropes.

He often prefers to put your pleasure over his own, seeing you feel good is the best pleasure in the world for him so he’d let you please him as long as I get to perform a trick on you next time.

Freminet:

He freezes. Immediately. Like absolutely stops breathing for a second.

“T-tie me?”

His voice barely audible.

After you explain your idea, his face goes beet red, his ocean blue eyes shift between the floor and pees, who he keeps fiddling with to avoid looking at you. He always knew you were bold, that's what he admires so much about you but sometimes all the time his heart can't take it.

“It’s her. She wouldn’t hurt me. She just… surprises me sometimes.”

He takes a slow breath.

“Can you… tell me why you want to?”

Not suspicious, just needing clarity because he’s Freminet.

After you tell him you just want to make him feel good he blushes even harder.

“Oh… okay. If it’s something you want to try… and it isn’t dangerous… I think…”

He pauses, cheeks pink.

“…I think I’d trust you with that.”

Later I'm bed, You tie him up with a baby blue, lace ribbon. And force all your attention onto him, after a while of contemplation you decide to do something different and suck him off instead of riding him like you usually do.

He's writhing above you, his hands bound by the pretty bow you worked so hard to tie.

“AHhm~ P-please- Ah!~ s-slow d-down~!” he cries out

“T-to f-fast!” of course his words to one ear out the other, as you try your best to maintain the same pace to please him.

The overstimulated diver cums in your mouth and you swallow, his pretty dick is still twitching against your inner cheek, his face flushed pink and breath heaving.

He’s be a little nervous, and he's not too confident either but he's willing, because it's you

His way of showing love is offering vulnerability even if that means being flustered.

Wriothesley: