#sorry anon

thank you anon for giving me the opportunity to perv out <3

cw: heavy fauxcest. don’t like don’t read!

victoria is reaaally sneaky about it. mother's day comes around and she asks cassie to pose with harrison, all come on, just one, please and cassie rolls her eyes but does it anyway, arm around her son, smiling brightly at the camera. victoria takes the picture, perfect, perfect, so cute! and then never posts it. instead she posts a photo taken from the passenger seat of cassie's lame mom car, cassie's hand gripping victoria's bare thigh, high up enough that you can see the edge of her underwear. happy mother's day to the woman who taught me everything <3

cassie sees it way too late, panicking about the picture somehow reaching victoria's actual mom. so she starts blowing up vic's phone: are you fucking insane? delete that now. victoria i’m not kidding, delete the picture. what are you playing at? please, vic, you can’t post stuff like that. baby, cmon. she’s sooo desperate it’s pathetic :(

victoria doesn't answer right away. she lets cassie call her, lets the phone vibrate against the table while shamsi watches her from across the room. do you need to take that?, she asks. victoria shrugs. just spam calls, mom.

later that night, victoria sends cassie a picture of herself on her knees, face cut off, just her pouty lip showing. she's in white cotton underwear, hands folded in her lap all sweet and patient. am i in trouble, mommy?

victoria likes to call cassie a perv, a creep, disgusting, when she catches her staring at work. she bends over on purpose in front of her, arching her lower back. pulls down the top of her scrubs on hot days, exposing her collarbones covered with bruises—purple fingerprints, the crescent marks of teeth, a map of where cassie's mouth has been.

she lingers too long when cassie is charting, pushing out her chest against cassie's back, whispering useless details about the case under the excuse that she's just helping. you’re kind of slow with technology, you know that, cass. might be an age thing, voice all faux-sweet and condescending.

sometimes she likes a crowd. they're at the nurses' station, cassie deep in conversation with trinity and princess, when victoria walks up and asks for help with a suture kit. can you show me again, mom? she slaps a hand over her mouth, eyes wide, all fake embarrassment. shit, sorry—mckay. i meant mckay. she sells it real good, stumbling over the words, cheeks flushing. cassie's shoulders go rigid, knuckles white against the pen she's holding. trinity and princess exchange a pointed look, and she knows the whole ED will hear about her little slip before the end of the day.

you're so fucking pervy, i should report you to HR. what do you think they'd do if they found out, huh? you could be my mom and you behave like this. what if i told them how you like to take advantage of me? cassie's eyes dart towards the hall, their coworkers merely a few feet away, but she doesn't say a word. she takes a deep breath, turns around and walks away.

victoria watches her go, already thinking about the nearest empty room. how cassie will drag her inside, push her to her knees, and press her thighs around victoria’s head just to shut her up. you’re a sick little girl, vic. such a needy thing, can't keep your mouth shut, hmm? want everyone to know you let your mom use you like this. m' gonna fuck your face so good. after, victoria will walk out first, face flushed and shining, pussydrunk, while cassie stays inside fixing her scrubs, ashamed of falling for it again <3

you're literally robbing the cradle, victoria says once, sprawled across cassie's couch, kicking her feet up onto cassie's lap. like, statistically, you should be in jail.

cassie grabs her ankles and doesn’t take her eyes away from the tv. you're twenty-one, you’re an adult.

barely. victoria shrugs, the smile in her voice obvious. she taps her finger against her chin, pretending to think. what are you now? forty-five?

forty-three. cassie's voice is flat, detached, like she's already bored of the conversation. victoria's stomach flips; being dismissed only spurs her on.

mhm, same thing. she digs the heel of her foot against cassie's thigh, delighted by the hiss that follows. but cassie still won't take her eyes off the tv, and that won't do. you're bad at this whole mom thing, you know that? i thought you were supposed to spoil me, to take care of me.

cassie's eyes finally snap from the tv, and oh, that hit a nerve. her baby blue eyes are dark, cheeks flushed, veins popping in her neck. victoria loves the way she looks when she's mad, loves the way cassie fucks her harder after, like she's trying to prove something, like she's trying to put her in her place.

their little…games always start like this. victoria winding her up, pressing every button she knows, poking and prodding until cassie gives in. victoria is more than happy to do the chasing. she provokes, she pushes, she never waits for permission.

so she turns around and bends over the armrest of the couch, presenting herself. she looks back at cassie over her shoulder, hair falling across her face, eyes half-lidded and mean, a pout on her glossy lips. she wiggles her ass in the air, her pleated skirt riding up.

come on, mom, she says, voice syrup-sweet and cruel. you know you want to, you can't keep your hands off me. that's sick, you know that? like, actually sick. you should be ashamed of yourself.

cassie moves behind her, slow. her hands land on victoria's hips, fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises.

there she is. victoria pushes back against her, grinding her ass against cassie's crotch. you love it when i talk like this, don't you? when i remind you how wrong this is, how young i am, how you could be my mother.

cassie yanks victoria's skirt up, bunches it around her waist. her underwear is already soaked through, a dark patch spreading across the lilac cotton. cassie hooks her fingers into the waistband and pulls them down just past her thighs, exposing her completely.

say it, victoria presses, already breathless as pushes her hips back, desperate for contact, rubbing herself on cassie’s belt buckle. say you're a freak who fucks her daughter. say it, mommy. i want to hear you.

cassie doesn't say it. she runs her fingers through victoria’s slick, gathers it, and shoves two fingers inside her in one rough motion. no warning, none of the gentleness she showed her during their first times together.

it hurts, a sweet, welcome burn, and victoria's next taunt dies in her throat. she jerks her hips forward, then back, grinding against cassie's palm. cassie wraps her free arm around victoria's waist and holds her still, forcing her to take it at her pace.

oh my god, victoria sobs, fingers clawing at the armrest. oh my god, mom—mommy, her forehead drops to the cushions, mouth falling open. a string of spit connects her lips to the fabric.

fuck, she manages, hips pushing back against cassie’s tight grip. fucking—yeah, show me what a sick fuck you are. you like being inside your daughter?

cassie sets a punishing pace, her palm hitting victoria’s clit with every thrust. she uses her hips to guide her movements as her fingers piston in and out, curled just right to make her brain go fuzzy, fucked stupid. her free hand comes up to victoria's neck, pressing her face down into the couch, grinding her cheek into the drool-soaked fabric.

victoria’s eyes are half-closed, tears gathering at the corners, words slurring into nonsense. old enough to be my—fuck—my mother and you're—ah, ah, ah—

cassie doesn’t let her finish, delivers a hard slap against her ass and victoria's whole body jerks.

you like that? cassie asks, voice low and rough. you like being treated like this?

yesyesyes, fuck, mom—

call me that again, baby.

mom, victoria whines, barely coherent. mommy, please, need you, only—only you. need my mom.

cassie adds a third finger, stretching her open. victoria sobs into the cushion, pressing her face into it for comfort, her whole body shaking. she is so wet it's obscene, soaking cassie’s fingers, dripping down her wrist, making a mess of the couch.

please, victoria chokes out, not even sure what she's begging for. please, please, please.

you're so wet, cassie says, borderline mocking. this gets you off? being a fucktoy for your mom? being treated like a thing?

victoria's eyes roll back, drool pooling beneath her cheek, tongue lolling out. she's lost the ability to form real words, just broken sounds, whimpers, the occasional high-pitched keen.

you always talk so much, cassie says, definitely mocking, pumping her fingers in and out. go on, talk back. all that mouth and look at you now, can't even think.

victoria wants to say something, wants to take the upper hand, wants to bite back, but cassie hits that spot inside her and her brain short-circuits. her jaw goes slack, hiccuped moans spilling out in tandem with cassie's thrusts.

that's what i thought, cassie’s voice meaner that victoria’s ever heard her. you throw a fit cause you want your mom to fuck it out of you, don’t you?

cassie drapes herself over victoria's back, pinning her down until she can barely breathe between the weight and the couch pressing against her face. she snaps her hips forward, the rough texture of her jeans slapping against naked skin. cassie grunts against her neck, teeth grazing the back of it before biting down, catching her prey. victoria wails, tears spilling freely, and she’s so so close; hips rutting uselessly against cassie's fingers, every failed grind making her cry harder.

you're so young, cassie whispers to herself, so soft the sound of her thrusting almost drowns it out. so fucking young and you act like you're in charge.

i am— victoria swallows spit, tries again, voice hoarse. i am in charge.

cassie laughs. like actually laughs, and victoria would be offended if cassie wasn't currently knuckle-deep inside her, thumb circling her clit, turning her thoughts into a stream of cassiecassiecassie.

oh, you are? cassie's voice drops, amused. you don't sound like you're in charge. she angles her wrist and slams into her, the wet noise of it filling the room, mixing with victoria's pitiful whines and mindless babbles. i know you can hear that, baby. your pretty cunt knows mom's in charge, doesn't it?

cassie traps her clit between thumb and forefinger and pinches, tight and mean, smiling as victoria's face crumples. she comes with a strangled scream, back arching so hard she buckles cassie's weight forward. her vision whites out and she's pretty sure she stops existing for a few seconds, cunt clenching around cassie's fingers, gushing, pulsing, trying to push her out.

that's it, cassie coos, fucking her through it, not stopping, not slowing. you’re such a sick girl, aren’t you, honey? coming all over your mom’s hand. the perfect daughter, made for me to fuck.

victoria is half-delirious, babbling nonsense into the cushion. her hips jerk helplessly, chasing cassie's hand even though she can't take any more. tears streak down her face, mixing with the drool.

cassie doesn't stop until victoria goes limp beneath her, boneless and trembling, soft whimpers escaping with every exhale. only then does cassie pull her fingers out, victoria's cunt clutching at her like it doesn't want her to leave. she hastily wipes her hand on the back of victoria's thigh and steps back.

this is what it takes to shut you up?

victoria hums and nods against the cushions. slumped over the armrest, drool and tears and sweat all over her cheeks, thighs soaked with slick. but still, a satisfied smile spreads across her ruined face.

cassie kneels beside her, brushes the hair from her face. i'll run you a bath.

victoria's smile twitches. hmm. i want to eat you out.

cassie tsks, shaking her head. manners, victoria, that's not how you ask for things.

pretty please? it comes out slurred, still wrecked.

cassie narrows her eyes, and victoria suddenly feels bashful, knowing what she's waiting for. please—please, mom.

better, cassie leans down, brings her lips to victoria's ear. i raised my girl right.

raw! raw! raw!

CW: NSFW!!!! SMUT!!! He’s an animal bruh I’m gonna peg him don’t let his attitude fool u he’s still pathetic for u. Gn! Reader.

A/N: Sorry this took so long anon! I’ve never really written smut before in a fic format so I hope this is alright, hard to write with one hand lmao thank you for the request!

there’s something purely animalistic about what you’ve sparked in him, like a mindless animal only acting on instincts with only one goal in mind. it almost scared you seeing how unhinged he’d become. xiao had trained himself for centuries against any weaknesses he might encounter, he just didn’t account for one of those weaknesses being you.

and you- oh gods, you. there’s something wrong with him, he swears. he can’t even think straight without the thought of you creeping into his mind. for the first time in what seemed like centuries he’d actually gotten injured from a hilichurl because he was too distracted with the thought of you- images of you playing in his head and clouding his vision.

so now, here he was, emptying his sexual frustrations into an unfortunate pillow in his room at Wangshu Inn. for once, he’s thankful for Verr Goldet’s insistence on keeping a room for him.

archons- he regrets the day he ever met you. why was some mortal capable of unraveling him without even trying? making him rut into some pillow like some desperate animal in heat. a dignified warrior, conquerer of demons, last remaining yaksha, now reduced to a horny little mess dry humping his bedding. oh how the mighty have fallen.

he wasn’t even thinking at this point. the only thing in his head was repeating your name over, and over, and over with each furious thrust. the sound of his balls slapping against each other occasionally and the creeking of a bed about to give out was pretty much the only noise that filled the room. that and his grunts and groans he tried muffling by biting into sheets.

he was so enraptured with his little rut fest he couldn’t even stop fucking into the pillow when you opened the door, thinking he had just fallen ill. your eyes met and something about the way his pupils immediately dilated like a predator locking eyes on its prey upon seeing you made you shiver.

it wasn’t even a second before he pulled you under him, taking in the scent of your nape before exhaling deeply. his stomach was against yours and you could feel his furiously throbbing cock against you. you could already feel the sticky dampness he left all over the sheets, god, how does someone even cum this much?

you can feel him fighting against himself with the way his hips keep stutter against you, like he’s trying his hardest not to lose control.

“what’re you doing here— fuck you smell so good.”

you hear a hiss from above you. you’re currently underneath a particularly distressed looking Xiao while he cages you beneath him. not in a dangerous way, no. it seems more like irritation, frustration..

“i was worried you had gotten sick.. but i guess i had the wrong idea,”

your tone is soft, like usual. your eyes meet his unapologetically as usual. what isn’t usual is the way your hand begins to trace down his chest to his pants and— dear gods what are you doing?!

he legs almost give out and he almost collapses on top of you. “fuck-“ his voice is trembling as he feels the humiliation crawling up onto his face. he can feel the precum seeping into his boxers again- he just got these ones!

“you better not-“ he growls, the sexual frustration obviously had been getting to him recently. “do you need help, hm?” you coo softly, not necessarily in a teasing way, but you really couldn’t help but feel bad for this poor centuries old virgin.

his body somehow stiffens up even more when he hears the words leave your mouth. god your mouth- your face- he hates how absolutely desperate he is for you right now. It’s humiliating, it’s disgraceful, and holy fuck if he doesn’t let you help him right now he thinks he’s gonna die.

he only responds with a curt “yes” before you two tumble around, lips crashing together, hands traveling all over each other like you need each other to survive. he certainly needs you to survive right now, he was going insane without you.

it might be due to the fact that he has no idea about human customs or relationships, or maybe it’s the fact that he can practically feel his hormones flooding his head, or maybe it’s because he’s only ever acted on instincts before but for whatever reason he just knew what position he wanted you in. he’s got your ass propped up to his hips, your arched back looking heavenly.

“w-wait!” you call out. he freezes. oh god did he hurt you? are you okay? what has he-

“do you have condoms?”

what.

you repeat yourself, and Xiao has to think for a moment, glossing over his vocabulary in his head trying to scan his memory for such a word.

“…no” he replies.

you can see the absolute puzzled look on his face and you sigh, realizing you practically just asked him a question in another tongue. “condoms are used to protect the receiver from any.. unwanted fluid.” you try explaining in the most appropriate terms you could muster.

something clicks in his head. and he feels a bit hurt. he leans in over your back, chest hovering over you now. “do you not want my.. seed?” he asks, his face stone cold serious.

first of all, who the hell taught him to use the term “seed” cause it most certainly wasn’t you! and second of all, you could feel the blush creeping onto your face as he stared intensely into your eyes.

“do you want to cum in me?”

you feel his grip on your hips tighten instantly,

“yes.” he’d never been more sure of anything in his entire life.

you can’t help but feel your will wavering as you stared into those weirdly intense puppy dog looking eyes— when did you become so weak willed?

you sighed, knowing you’ll probably regret this in the morning. “fine, but you’re cleaning me up after.”

he has no clue what you mean but he gives a curt nod in agreement before realigning himself to your entrance and- fuck. your hole looks so.. tiny compared to his cock. he’s not sure how he’s supposed to do this-

“use your fingers.”

he perks his head back up to look at you.

“what?”

“use your fingers to prep me, here just watch me.”

you snake your hand between your thighs, fingers stretching yourself open before you insert a digit into yourself. you can’t help but let out a moan, you can’t even remember the last time you’ve been fucked. (by yourself or otherwise)

he palms his cock as he watches you finger yourself, inserting one, then two digits, stretching yourself out for him so nicely. He doesn’t even care about hiding his own moans right now.

“now you do it,” you order, he obeys.

he bites off his glove, slowly sliding a slender finger into you- the squelch of your juices against his finger almost made him nut on the spot. he follows your lead, slipping one after the other until he thinks you’re ready for him and you give him the go ahead.

finally, he lines himself up with your entrance, eyes carefully watching his cock slip into your wet hole and holy fuck-

he’s only an inch or two in and he swears he’s just been blessed by celestia above. he didn’t know what he was expecting but gods you were so much better- so much better then his hand, so much better than some stupid pillow— fuck you feel divine.

it’s the moment he feels you clamp down on him that something in him switches again, his instincts overriding him and the horny bastard inside him grips onto your hips and aggressively pulls you onto his cock. you scream out in a moan, your back arching in a way you didn’t even know it could.

why is his so big- how is it possible to feel every vein of his cock like this?! you swear he’s penetrated into your organs with one motion- because there’s no way you already feel this full already!

he takes a moment to revel in your slickness, the warmth of your heat, relishing in the way your body twitches against him. you’re perfection itself.

he leans down, chest pressing against your back, he softly kisses and nibbles on your earlobe. your flesh is the only thing in this world he thinks he’ll ever want to feast on. to his surprise, you let out a whine and fucking gods- why do you sound so perfect.

he snaps his hips into you, a low growl seeping through clenched teeth as he tries not to cum immediately. his pace is slow, trying to figure out how to not embarrass himself this quickly. but as your soft moans start filling the air, he quickly throws away whatever shreds of pride he was trying to keep and picks up that damn pace.

it’s not long until he’s pounding into you, you swear he’s trying to bury you into the mattress at the speed he’s going but holy hell does it feel so good. he’s got his teeth buried into your shoulder and his hands are gripping your hips and binding you against him as he’s trying to keep you from slipping away.

you can feel his heavy balls slapping against your thighs, he keeps going deeper and deeper until you swear he’s almost balls deep in you. he keeps hitting that spot just right- with such force it feels like he’s trying to make more space in you to fit all of him.

it’s a struggle, honestly. he’s surprisingly girthy, but that doesn’t stop him from somehow making you take his entire cock into you.

“take it” he hisses out. he’s had enough of you having so much control over him without even trying, making him feel like some sort of pathetic warrior who’d fallen from whatever grace he’d had.

your moans get louder and louder and yet he can’t bring himself to care if others hear. he needs you in a wild, primal, carnal way he’s never felt before and he’s gonna stay on this high as long as he can.

this is probably the most selfish thing he’s ever done. fucking you senselessly just because he needs you so much. taking out weeks worth of pent up sexual frustration on you just because he happened to get horny over you. finally emptying his balls into you over and over, and then pounding you all over again just because some instinct inside of him tells him he needs to. he’s gonna make sure you take every last drop of him, just because his brain tells him you need to do it. you need to take him.

I have this headcanon that Signora likes to cocoon you in her coat, while she is still wearing said coat. So imagine her wearing that iconic white Harbinger jacket, it’s tall and large; especially since Signora herself is a taller woman. When the winter days in Snezhnaya grow colder, Signora worries for your baby belly and will come up behind you to wrap her arms around your waist. She’ll pull you to her chest and swallow you in her jacket, resting her chin on your head.

It is quite the funny sight to see the cold, intimidating La Signora with her wife hidden beneath her coat, with only your head peeking through a small gap. If you are on the shorter end, only the top half of your head can be seen, just a small pair of eyes peeking through the opening while Signora keeps you close to her. She refuses to let you go, using her coat as an insulator as she radiates heat for you and your unborn baby.

“Rosalyne, I can’t move.”

“Small steps dear.”

https://www.tumblr.com/pignk/790566353249632256/man

I KNEW IT LMAOOOOO 😂😂😂😂 sure thing, sorry, my handwriting was totally terrible lol

Meg: Name one hero who was happy.

Meg: You can’t.

Orion: I can’t. Meg: I know! They never let you be famous, and happy.

Meg: I’ll tell you a secret. Orion: Tell me.