#Arknights Mlynar | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

latimeria-fell-from-heaven · 1 year

Text

#𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐌𝐄.

anon asked ↺ Tbh.. I want młynar to Rail me, degrade me, tease me, and fill me with his cum 😭👌

cw. sub!reader, reader is the doctor, mentions of cumming inside (use condoms irl!!), degradation (consensual!!), size kink, big cock (he's a horse man lmao), mentions of cumflation, belly bulge & slight jealousy.

lati. lmao same nonnie, pretty sure that half of the people who simp for him just want to be mating pressed by this man,,

art credit. (artist has nsfw works on their profile so minors beware!!)

If Młynar were to break you, the slot of his hips fitting like a puzzle piece against yours, or the firm grip of his calloused hand against your neck, you don't think you would mind.

The adrenaline was exhilarating, the way he used your body like a toy personally made for his pleasure and pushed you to your limits until all you could do was cling to him hopelessly. It was as if he were an addicting drug, always getting you to crave more until you would pass out from exhaustion. Given that he was a Kuranta, it was no surprise that he'd be so well-endowed, but it was always as if it were your first time with him each time you coaxed him into your sheets.

"Who knew that the Doctor was such a little whore." The middle-aged Kuranta sports a sarcastic sliver of a smile, jutting up his hips when he notices you attempting to form a reply. "I didn't realize that the esteemed Doctor I've heard so much about was nothing more than an easy slut. Or do you just happen to like me so much that you're so willing to throw yourself into bed with me?"

You don't answer him—you can't answer him—because your entire body feels like it's melting. You're messily grinding your pelvis down, desperate to keep his fat cock sheathed inside for just a bit longer. Everything is blurry—it's because you've been sobbing and sniveling ever since his cum practically inflated your tummy—and there's a faint ringing in your ears every time you bring down your hips. Młynar barely looks affected, but a closer look would have revealed his teeth clenched tight and his cheeks blooming with red as your walls pulse around him rapidly.

"Fuck, s'so big, your dick's sho big.." If you were any more coherent, you would've been embarrassed by how slurred your words were. But all you can even think about is Młynar's cock, and how fucking big it is. Every time you move, the outline of his cock pops up and down under your belly, and the gooey droplets of his cum dribble out in a sloppy manner. The pleasure is all but too much and yet not enough; it's making you go crazy.

"A..are all Kuranta guys as big as you..?" You meant that to come off as much more flirtatious, but your voice wavers, ever so slightly cracking. Młynar's cock had rubbed up against a spot deep inside at just the right angle, breaking whatever stability you had been attempting to build up. It's a bit embarrassing.

"Oh? I didn't take you to be the greedy type, Doctor." Despite the supposed amused expression on his face, his voice is anything but. A weak whimper escapes your mouth when his grip tightens and his once-still hips begin to grind up into you, pushing his cock even further inside of you. Fuck, he shouldn't even be able to reach this deep, unless he was practically rearranging your insides just to fit the rest of him inside. "Are you desperate enough to not be satisfied by me alone? I didn't take you for that kind of person."

"N-no.. m'sorry, I didn't mean it like that.." You weakly whine, shivering and holding back a moan as his thumb rubs the edges of your stomach.

The older man chuckles, quite clearly enjoying seeing you fumble over yourself. "I jest, Doctor. You look rather cute like that." God if you weren't fucked half out of your mind and nearly about to fall over from exhaustion, you'd have gladly thrown a sarcastic remark his way. He seems to notice your sluggish movements, though, and shifts against the bed, jostling you in the process.

"Hey, don't pass out on me," This time, the amusement reaches his golden eyes, and it definitely.. it definitely makes you feel something. "The night is still young for us after all. We have plenty more time; just the two of us. This is what you wanted, no?"

And like the pretty little complaint pet he knows you to be, you murmur your agreement in shaky breaths. Even if Młynar were to break you, your mind drowning in unending good, you couldn't bring yourself to care. In fact, you're quite sure that you'd enjoy every single debauched minute of it.

#lati thirsts #arknights x reader #arknights smut #młynar x reader #młynar smut #arknights mlynar x reader #arknights mlynar smut #arknights mlynar #młynar

292 notes · View notes

trannnn158 · 9 months

Text

A delulu fanfiction

Pairing: Mlynar Nearl x F!Reader.

Word count: 2.2k.

Warnings: fluff, tired office worker in need of comfort, cringe, self-indulgent, broken English, I regret writing this in English.

Pic credit: Mine.

__________________

Just the thought of having to be a mere office worker, wasting days away in the same company alongside with a stuck up boss alone was enough to send shivers down Mlynar’s spine every waking hour. Despite all of that, he never once let a single complaint slip out of his tightly-shut mouth. You, on the other hand, knew better than anyone how much resentment he held towards this job.

After all, Mlynar Nearl was a man of few words.

__________________

His daily working routine began at seven o’clock sharp.

“Ding!”

The ringing sound of the elevator hung high in the air, disrupting the quiet atmosphere that was inherent in the office. As bright as the radiant sun, the man endowed with silky blonde hair stepped out of the chamber after a flock of workers and clocked in at his company. At first glance, what immediately caught people’s eyes would be his toned body which loomed underneath the royal blue fabric of his shirt together with a neatly buttoned up vest, alluring women, both young and old, with a sense of maturity as if he was a fine wine, ready to be gulped down to the very last drop, and yet his hair was messy with the front bang covering part of his left eyes, turning people off after their first impression with him had faded away. Mlynar rolled his eyes, vision landing on the room that was painted white. He had committed himself to this occupation, to the tiny desk that was barely a fit to his figure for roughly ten years already. To Mlynar, this place, this hell hole was the true definition of a prison and he, as an employee, was nothing more than a corporate slave.

He sluggishly pulled the chair out and sat down, placing the plastic bag encircling the steaming hot cup of coffee on his table. It was hers. He thought then carefully opened the lid. As the lid flicked open, it felt like he was in his own world now, being embraced by the smell of coffee. The gentle aroma of roasted coffee beans was intoxicating to Mlynar, like a cup of cocktail that let the brain indulge in its own little fantasies, making him yearn for the girl who just sent him off with a goodbye kiss that morning, the girl who took him into her arms and loved him the night before. Taking a sip, the bittersweet taste on the tip of his tongue roused the man from his sleep, causing him to frown and then chuckle lightly under his breath. He looked like a mad man. His colleagues threw a glance at him, carrying judgment and contempt in their eyes, but he couldn’t care less. He just carried on with his day, taking a sip of his coffee while booting up the computer.

The office was quieter than usual today. Perhaps it was a special occasion? Or some influential projects which his godforsaken boss didn’t give a damn to assign to him on the grounds that he was deemed “incompetent”? The sound of the keyboard clattering continued to resound in spite of Mlynar’s internal thoughts being in complete shambles.

Mlynar Nearl was a man of high responsibility.

___________________

Twelve thirty-five p.m.

Mlynar looked at the computer screen. His golden pupils flickered as they unconsciously glanced at the old phone lying around on the desk. He wondered what you were doing or had you eaten anything yet. The man was beyond curious, yet worried that he would become a nuisance in your eyes. He dreaded that thought. His hand was faster, though, and turned on the phone. Your bright smile appearing on his lock screen captivated him and he found himself musing on the girl in his phone, his eyes narrowed as if being lost in his own mind.

Suddenly..

"Bang!"

A loud banging on the rusty door made him jump from his seat, bringing him back to reality the harsh way. The phone fell from his hand and collided with the dusty floor, causing the screen to come down with a long crack across the photo of you and him. The phone harbored many of his precious memories of you, most of which could not be replaced in his heart. Mlynar was, understandably, livid; nonetheless, there was nothing he could do to salvage the situation. At the end of the day, he was just another of many individuals who succumbed to the injustice and brutality of life for being a humble employee and having no say before his superiors.

“Yes.”, “I understand.”, “Pardon?”, “I apologize, I will work on it as soon as possible.” - How many times had Mlynar forced out these words? He lost count. He was powerless.

The hoary old boss hurled insult after insult at him, berating him for what seemed like an eternity and had no intentions on stopping anytime soon despite the curious gazes of so many co-workers in the office all focused on the two figures, one tall and one short, with the taller one having to hang his head low. At times like this, Mlynar pondered the question of whether anyone felt sorry for him, resentful for him? Even just the slightest bit of empathy would've been much appreciated. He was being humiliated, but to others, it was just a common scene on replay and they turned a blind eye to it. Mlynar wanted to throw a punch at this arrogant chief. He could. He could just beat the guy into dead meat then quit on the spot. However, right now, he could only bite his lips, clench his fists and endure those spiteful words so as to keep this job. He didn’t want to make you worry.

Mlynar Nearl was a cool-headed man.

__________________

Ten past five in the evening. He would have been home in your embrace ten minutes ago had the fat guy not yelled at him for fifteen minutes straight and pressured him to correct a mistake made by a different employee in the same department as his.

Mlynar sighed and rubbed his eyes. No problem. He was done for the day and could finally return home now.

The clacking noise of paper tapping against the edge of the table caused Mlynar to lift up his head, shifting his attention away from the computer only to be greeted by his boss’s taciturn face, which scrunched up like he had just bitten into a lemon, and the foul smell of cigarettes made Mlynar’s windpipe clog. It felt like there was a lump in the back of his throat and he despised it.

“Sort this pile then type them into the spreadsheet. They need to be completed before tomorrow.”

Having finished speaking, the executive left without once expressing sympathy for him nor offering him a word of encouragement. Why him of all people? Why now?

Mlynar seemed to freeze at that moment. The mountain of papers on the desk was like a towering wall that he wished he could cut in half with a swift slash right now. He swallowed down his saliva, his pride, his Adam’s apple moving up and down slightly with every movement.

The office returned to its usual peacefulness. That is, because only Mlynar Nearl remained sitting there. His messy hair that morning was even more disheveled, heavy eyes that he struggled hard to keep open were glued to the computer screen while his rough hands steadily pressed the keyboard. The place was so quiet that he could hear the beat of his own heart drumming in his ears, the sound of the obsolete clock ticking as its second hand moved as if in a hurry, and, perhaps due to his fatigue that he imagined, the sweetness of your voice echoing by his side. He was on the brink of insanity and this unsettling white office was an asylum. On the table, in addition to the pile of documents, was a cup of coffee that had been drained long ago, yet the faint smell of burnt beans still lingered. It reminded him of you. Mlynar’s mind began to stray away from work again and turned to his home, to the comfy sofa that was only enough for two people to sit on and to you - the girl who was waiting for him to return.

Mlynar Nearl had officially lost his mind.

__________________

How long had it been?

How many hours had passed since he was stuck at this damn company?

Shit.

Seven thirty-nine p.m. A sharp breath escaped from Mlynar’s lung when he exhaled. On the screen currently was the report file being sent to his superior via email. He was overcome by boredom, staring blankly as the old system tried its best to send the files over while his fingers became more and more impatient with each passing second, tapping on the desk in the same rhythm.

Hurry.

Faster.

Faster!

He flinched, thinking that he had screamed from the top of his lungs at that moment.

As soon as the report was sent to the obnoxious old boss, he jumped up from his seat and immediately ran back, being in such a hurry that he did not bother to put on his jacket. The night sky befell on his drooping shoulders. His breathing became quick and shallow, sending out white fog with each hasty step he took in the biting weather. The yellow hue in his eyes glimmered with life as if catching a small ray of hope when he recognized the image of the home he longed for was becoming more and more prominent.

The road back home had never been so long. He missed you.

Grasping the doorknob tightly, Mlynar did not hesitate even for a second to straighten his clothes. Instead, he opened the door whose paint job had already faded. The scent of stir-fried beef rushed straight into his nose, awakening his sense of smell that was thought to have been long gone after such a devastating day at the company, surrounded by the smell of ink and cigars.

Slowly and steadily, he took off his worn-out shoes and stepped inside, until his horse ears perked up at the familiar sound of your voice. You were singing. Although you were horrible at it, to Mlynar, it was like a breath of fresh air, a cure for the barren soul of the man. There you stood, in the kitchen, the corners of your mouth curved up into a bright smile as you hummed and decorated the beef on the plate. Oh how he missed that sight. He wanted to drink in your beauty, taking in your everything and ingraining them into his brain like it was a part of him since birth: The everyday clothes that had gradually faded over the years, the jet black hair highlighted with a few golden brown strands that was always tied up into a ponytail, the coal black eyes which seemed to flash every time you spoke, and, his favorite feature of yours, your playful smile.

Without you noticing, Mlynar approached you from behind, even dropping the vest in his hand on the floor, and held your body close to his while his hands crept around, grabbing you by the waist. He rested his chin on your shoulder and leaned against the crook of your velvety, white neck, taking a deep breath to dispel the worries crowding his head. It felt like all the burdens from work, from having to exist and continue living were lifted from his shoulders and he could leave everything behind.

What a relief. The thought suddenly flashed through his mind.

Your body shivered slightly when his ice-cold skin made contact with your warm neck, sending a sharp pain through your nerves.

“You scared me to death, Mlynar!”, you said, then chuckled again while setting the plate of beef on the dining table.

He remained silent and just looked at you, chest rising and falling with each slow breath he took. His eyes were filled to the brim with love and adoration for you and only you, so much so that it would have spilled out into adoring words if he had no self-control whatsoever. He was absolutely smittened.

You turned around, facing him and both your gazes locked with each other.

“How was your day? You must be hungry coming back this late, right? Gosh, you didn’t put your coat on! What if you catch a cold, eh?”

Like two polar opposites, you just kept on going, like an adorable little bird that you were, while he kept his mouth shut and just clung onto you like a sulky cat.

“I’m home.”

At last, Mlynar spoke up, even if it was only a short sentence, even when his voice sounded so tired, even though it was only a whisper in your ear.

The voice was warm yet hoarse. He knew full well how much you fawned over it. Your face lit up at his words and your soft hands now laid upon the bulky, well-defined arms which were wrapped around you.

“Welcome home, Mlynar.”

This was the paradise, the safe haven that Mlynar Nearl could call “his”. He wished for a life with you, his beloved, until the end of his time, ‘til these hands of his could no longer muster up the strength to hold yours.

Mlynar Nearl was a simple man.

#mlynar nearl #mlynar arknights #mlynar x reader #fluff #arknights #arknights mlynar

15 notes · View notes