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myers-meadow · 9 months

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Lucius Malfoy x fem! reader: That which isn't taught in books

Title: That which isn't taught in books

Pairing: Lucius Malfoy x female librarian reader

Summary: Draco complains about you, the Hogwarts librarian, to his father. This results in the beautiful Lucius Malfoy paying you an unexpected visit. He is rather taken with you, and he shows you things you can't simply learn from books: your place.

Warnings: smut, blowjob, cum, spit, vaginal fingering, degradation, rough kissing, use of 'slut', praise, gloves, Lucius is Lucius and a that's a warning on it's own, consent isn't discussed but reader is into it, manhandling, (suspected) cheating, hair pulling (assumed reader has hair that can be pulled).

Wordcount: 3699

Dividers by by animated-glitter-graphics-n-more and delishlydelightfuldividers.

“Miss __, you must to lend me this book. I need it for class.” Draco Malfoy ordered, pointing to the book on top of the stack on your right. Third years aren’t typically allowed to borrow advanced books on dark magic, so it wasn’t on the shelves for him to take with a reason.

“No,” you simply replied, removing book from the stack and sending it to the topmost shelf with a wave of your wand. “That’s a restricted book and you need a permission slip from the headmaster before borrowing it.”

Draco scoffed. “I know you let Granger use the library outside the allowed hours.”

How could the damned kid know about that? What a menace.

“The book is still restricted.”

“Do you know who my family is?” Draco said, tapping the desk impatiently.

“Yes, I know your parents quite well. We are old friends, in fact,” you said, which was a lie. The Malfoys are well-known, and you’ve run into them before. Unpleasant was the best word for it, and you were glad the moment you didn’t have to deal with them anymore. Narcissa was alright, perfectly poised and therefore polite – but still raised rich and pureblood. Lucius, on the other hand, gave you nightmares that night. Even worse that you woke up wet between your thighs.

Draco scoffed, sending you a nasty look. “We will see about that, miss __.”

You sighed as he turned around and marched away.

It was later that week that the Hogwarts library had a surprise visit from a tall, white-haired man that reminded you so very much of the pest that was Draco Malfoy.

“So this is where the students are expected to borrow their books from,” said the cold voice, heavy with poorly veiled contempt. “Hogwarts seems to spend their funds… otherwise.”

“Good evening, sir,” you started, tone flat. “Have you come here to take a look around? I assure you our collection is larger than it seems here at the front desk.”

He raised an eyebrow, only now looking at you. “Miss __,” and even that alone sounds like he chastised you, “I’ve come here because of what my son told me of your behaviour. You pick on him and single him out, while the rest of the students are allowed to break school rules at will.”

Your shoulders tensed. So he was really here because of that small ordeal. And above all, it pissed you off that he didn’t even feel the need to introduce himself properly. Of course you knew who he was, but that he expected you to still remember him was infuriating.

“I see. Then you should be pleased to know that I don’t allow any student to break the rules, which includes your son. I do not play favourites.”

An amused smile played at the corner of his lip. “Is that so?”

“Yes, sir.” Your tone remained flat. Despite that, it was difficult not to let your eyes wander. Gods, did he dress up this fancy just to give you a stern talking to? He was delicious. With the snake tie pin mirroring the glittering of his cold gaze, the full three piece suit that wouldn’t look out of place at a funeral, and the leather gloves he wore even though he had to cross half the castle to get here.

You continued, taking a deep breath to steel yourself – he noticed, his gaze flickering to your chest. “You may be under the impression, Mr. Malfoy, that professors of this school are easily pressured by empty threats, to give your son a leniency that I refuse to show him. This visit won’t change that, so I’d suggest you save yourself the time.”

He raised an eyebrow, looking down at you past his nose. You were glad for the library desk separating the two of you, or you’d back away from him like a scared animal.

“I do not appreciate your tone,” he said, each word perfectly measured, low and menacing. Your adrenaline spiked, and your knees trembled. He leaned forward, and you fought the urge to take a step back. Even just that thought, of backing of, of yielding to him, he must’ve seen it cross your face, and smirked in response, clearly enjoying the hold he had on you.

A group of Hufflepuffs entered the library, giggling to themselves, until they saw the standoff you were in. “Let’s just come again later,” one suggested, and they left quickly, whispering to each other. You nodded at them, and moved your gaze back to the imposing man in front of you. From this close, you could smell the perfume he wore. Something warm like sandalwood mixed with citrus. Fuck, he was insanely attractive. Touching him would feel like the most luxurious velvet.

“I suggest,” he leaned in even closer over the desk, you felt the warmth of his breath fan your face, “that from now on, you make sure you assist in Draco’s education and let him borrow whatever books he wants.”

“If he has the right permission slip from the headmaster, Draco can borrow any book he likes. Without it, he can’t.” You could barely focus on his words with how close he was. “If you knew the book in question, you’d agree with my approach and be glad that I didn’t have a conversation about Draco’s interest of late.”

“And what book may that be, miss?”

“Forbidden hexes and curses. And he’s practiced some too, already. One may think he’s… a bit too interested in the Dark Arts.” You clacked your tongue and pushed yourself off of the desk, trying to clear your head. “It wasn’t a beginner’s book either.”

Lucius quirked an eyebrow and looked you up and down. “Perhaps we should discuss this matter somewhere more… private.”

His velvety voice made your insides flip in nervous anticipation, which you attempted to calm with little success. So, that approached worked. The value purebloods place on image was such an easy win, but it felt good to hear his tone soften.

“My office is there.”

He moved around the desk and went first, waiting for you to move around him and open the door for him. Once inside, he shut and locked the door, and with a quick wave of his wand, the blinds shut themselves. His small smirk as he looked at you then was nothing short of predatory.

“Draco told me so much about you,” his voice was even more hypnotising than before, and he knew the effect he had on you as you breathed in sharply. He walked around you slowly, taking you in completely. Surely this was another intimidation technique of his, so you force yourself to stand your ground.

“He has?” you echo, not seeing the point of it, but wanting to delay the threats and the fight – and that deliciously wrong feeling of anticipation was building steadily inside your lower belly.

“The librarian,” his voice was smooth as silk, “who is so attractive that it keeps the students from their studies. A Slytherin, but surprisingly, you don’t know who or what is good for you.”

It sounds like he’s insulting you again. He stood still right in front of you, a finger coming to rest on your cheek. The contempt has returned to his expression, along with something else.

“You dress… well. Draco said you looked inappropriate, but he is just a boy. He gets silly ideas too quickly.” Lucius’ voice has softened considerably. The way you looked up at him made you feel like a deer caught in the headlights, not knowing whether to fight, flight or fawn – and the result is that you did nothing.

“Your concern for my appearance is noted, sir,” you managed to say. “Is that why you really came all this way? To make sure your son’s librarian dresses appropriately?”

A small chuckle broke the silence. “I must admit, you are more alluring than he said you were. Perhaps we can solve this disagreement in a more pleasurable manner. If you can learn your place, that is.”

You stared at him. The gloved finger tapping your cheek moved to your lips, slipping between them. The smell of the leather was strong and made your head swim.

“Or should I make it clearer for you? On your knees.” His condescending tone was unlike anything you’ve heard before: alluring, yet cruel. The velvet softness of his voice contrasted with the way he looked down at you past his nose. Such a regal face…

When you didn’t immediately obey, he pushed you down by your shoulders. The floor was cold even through the fabric of your skirt. The tip of his cane tapped your cheek lightly, but it was threat enough.

You gulped. Looking up at him from this angle was a sight to see, his amused expression, the smell of him, the texture of his glove in your hair were as intimidating as they were arousing.

“What’s the matter? I’m sure a big girl like you knows what to do.” His leather clad hand tugged open his belt and ripped open the buttons without a second of hesitation. His eyes glinted darkly with lust. Only when he tugged his cock free from his underwear, did you look away from his eyes. He was gorgeous, pulsing, rigid, the head flushed with blood, with just one teardrop of precum at the slit. Doubting your actions, you reached a hand up to grip him. Warm. Thick, too.

“Are you just going to sit there? Open.”

You obeyed, instinctively, and he groaned lowly as he slid his cock in your waiting mouth. Wetting the underside of his cock with your tongue, you teased the bit of skin just under the head, making it bounce against the roof of your mouth. His breaths came sharply, slowly turning to soft sounds of pleasure. He slid in and out as you sucked him, moving your lips along his shaft. Clearly he held back in showing just how good you made him feel – and your determination grew. You teased the head with vigour, and before you could settle on a rhythm, he forced himself in deep. Gagging and trying to swallow around him, he groaned, and the sound went straight to your core. Shifting your thighs together to relieve the throbbing ache wasn’t close to enough. Lucius set a punishing pace for himself, deep and fast. In and out, and his length grew wetter and wetter with saliva and precum.

“What a pretty girl you are,” praised Lucius, in between hissed breaths and stifled groans. He held your head back by the hair then, and pulled your lips from his cock.

“You were made for this. Know just how to please your superior.”

A cruel gleam shone in his eye as he looked down on you, and he rubbed his cock over your face, coating it in your spit. His words rang true in a way that made you whimper pathetically. The humiliation burned. You broke out in a heated sweat, but the terrible empty throbbing of your cunt was enough for you to stay put. He pulls your head back on his cock, immediately pushing into your throat again.

“Just like that, sweetheart,” he groans. The satisfied sadism in his expression has you dripping. “What great things even you can accomplish if you receive the right guidance.”

His ‘guidance’ came in the form of an insistent hand fisted in your hair as he fucked your face, without any care for your comfort. Now that his length was wet and slimy, it went in easier, but it still made you gag. You tried your best to hollow your cheeks, wanting to prove to him how good you could be. A small part of you, at the back of your mind, was disgusted by your actions and more so by how easily Lucius exploited your submissive streak. Yet, when you glanced up and saw the pleasure etched into his face, that voice quieted down. He looked sinfully good from this angle, and you enjoyed it through tearful eyes as he pushed at your gag reflex once again. In, out, slower, feeling the drag of your tongue on the underside of his cock, and moaning filth behind clenched teeth. Then, having enough of your tongue, his pace increased, pushing into your deeper and without mercy.

Eventually he let out a satisfied groan, and he pulled out from your mouth, drool spilling onto your blouse, and he stroked himself to completion, groaning harshly as he came. Hot, sticky ropes of cum painted your face. You gasped at how unexpected of and end it was, face burning at how degrading it was to sit there and take it, stunned at the audacity of this man. It may be true that you craved this from the moment you first met him, but that didn’t change that it made you feel both disgusting and desired like nothing else could.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it, filthy girl?” His gloved hand twisted in your hair, angling your face so he could admire you. “You will leave this as it is. Merlin, you enjoy this, don’t you? Made such a mess of yourself. Filthy fucking slut.”

His words came through gritted teeth, and you feel the strength he’s holding back as he forced you to stand by your hair. You yelped. The cum left a nasty pulling sensation on the skin as it started to dry. You felt used, so used, and his disgust showed clearly on his face. Nevertheless, he pulled you close, forcing your head to his and he kissed you, with open mouth against your cum covered lips. Without a care that his cum smeared his face as well as yours, and the bitter aftertaste that it left in his mouth, he devoured you hungrily.

“Open your mouth,” he ordered, voice rough. You obeyed. The moan he let out as he pressed his lips to yours again was the most lewd sound you’d ever heard. Your tongues entwined, the taste of his seed mingling with saliva. It was gross, but in the best way. You made him like this, was the thought that shot through your mind, you made him gross and lose control. And you did all of that just by being you.

Teeth clashed and you winced, but he barely seemed to notice. He was so rough, so uncoordinated, yet it was the hottest thing you ever felt. Spirals and sparks of heat radiated in your belly. The hand in your hair let go, to great relief, and wrapped around your throat instead. The kiss grew fiercer still. He consumed you. All of you. His teeth tugged at your lips, nipping harshly enough for small stings of pain, but they were soothed over with the warmth of his tongue. His nose pressed against your face with how far he leant into you, how harshly he pulled your face against his.

This hunger was a world away from his earlier disgust.

When he let go, his pupils were blown wide, his cheeks flushed, passionate and heated. He wiped the cum from his nose and lips, and licked it from his gloved fingers. Your eyes fluttered just at the sight of him. And it was you who caused this, who brought out this side of him, all dishevelled, messy, stained… All for you.

“It seems you do know your place well, dear librarian. How about a reward, then? Do you think you deserve one?”

All you could do was nod.

He pushed you back until your ass hit your desk, and he lifted you up until you were seated. “Legs wide. Good girl.” He spread your thighs as he stood between them. His gloved fingers dragged over the sensitive skin of your innermost thigh. You were positively throbbing. Have you ever felt arousal this strong while completely untouched? You hated him for it.

“Please, Mr. Malfoy,” you whimpered, already growing impatient.

Tugging at the cotton of your panties, he said, not a question, but an order: “Why don’t you take those off for me.”

You stumbled to comply. Before you could say anything, he silenced you by sliding two fingers in your mouth, and you wet them without being prompted to. The leather tasted like his cum, bitter. The texture was pleasant on your tongue. He hummed, pleased, as he slid his fingers out.

“Who knew you’d be such a quick student? But then again, they do say librarians have a wide variety of knowledge.” And his finger found your clit. “How’s that?”

You whined sharply as he increased the pressure, but didn’t move his fingers, still depriving me of the friction I craved.

“Or rather here?” and he slid his fingers to your slit, dipping in, before moving back up, bringing the slick with them. “Aren’t you a wet little slut.”

His middle finger slid in to the knuckle, with embarrassing ease. You moaned softly, brow furrowing. It felt right. So right. So perfect. This is what you were made for, for such a feeling, of being filled, of being used by a man as beautiful as Lucius Malfoy. Your eyes locked and your heart skipped a beat at the intensity of his stare.

“What a sensitive young woman you are,” he said, voice soft, yet with a darkness to it. “No one’s touched you this good before. And no one will, after.”

He pulled his finger almost out, then pushed it back in, setting himself a slow and deep rhythm, curling it deep inside. Each time he hit that spot inside, your gasps and moans became a little higher, a little more desperate. You clung onto his shoulders, and he leaned so close your noses touched.

“You look quite beautiful like this… Who knew it would be this fun to put a librarian in her place?” it almost seemed he talked to himself moreso than to you. One finger became two, but his pace remained the same. Steady, in, out, in, curling, out. The drag of his gloves made it even better, and when you looked down, they were wet and creamy from how wet you were. You whimpered as he followed your line of sight, and slammed back in harder. And harder. Now that his pace was steadily increasing, so were the sensations, growing hotter quick. He tipped you over the edge and you nearly screeched – but he kept going, the orgasm prolonging itself until you reached a second high, so high it was painful - and he moaned along with you, slowing but not pulling out. When he finally stilled, both of your breaths were sharp, as though you’d just ran up five flights of stairs. He kissed you again, messily, as he pumped in and out just a few more times, enjoying the twitches of your aftershocks.

“What a good girl,” he purred, and he pulled out. The feeling of emptiness was jarring and you clenched around nothing. His fingers slipped past your lips, and you sucked them clean obediently. “What a good girl,” he repeated, with emphasis and a fond undertone. “Perhaps there’s hope for you yet.”

Even after coming down from the orgasm, the hazy feeling stayed, making your head swim as you looked at the man in front of you. He kissed you again, and it was borderline uncomfortable with the drying cum still on your face. He was softer, a wet kiss, he was savouring you.

“I dearly hope this isn’t the last I’ll see of you, my sweet librarian,” he said, and before he left, with a wave of his wand, he grabbed your panties and left with a last, lingering look over his shoulder. “Although I expect you to behave from now on.”

Before you went to sleep that night, you replayed what happened over and over again, and despite the unsatisfiable desire, there was also anger. This man has a wife! You were livid. How could he do this? Not even the degradation – but that you let yourself be treated like that by a man who has a wife!

The next day, during your lunchbreak, the largest bouquet of roses you had ever seen was delivered to the library. There must’ve been more flowers in it than in the entire flower shop in Hogsmeade. The ridiculous arrangement sat on the desk, crowding over all the books. The delivery witch had you sign for them, but refused to tell you who they were from. You shook your head, as you sank down on your chair, staring at them. You didn’t have a vase big enough.

While you were preparing and cutting the stems, you found a note. ‘L. M.’ Was all it said and it filled you with annoyance.

Lucius. Your eyes shot fire at the mention of his name. How dare he play this off in this way. What a condescending gesture, to buy you roses just to stake some sort of claim on you. To remind you of what the two of you did the day before, to keep you in line. Resolutely, you throw the note in the paper bin. Perhaps you should send him a note too, and tell him to save those roses for his wife.

Now what? This many wouldn’t even fit in any garbage bin - not without attracting a horrible amount of attention. Perfectly pristine flowers thrown away would cause enough drama, more than keeping them would. So you, sigh, and continue trimming the stems, getting your anger out with each snip. There was enough to set a few flowers in small vases, or mugs, when those ran out, on each table in the library. The anger had faded by the time it was done, and you looked out over the suddenly very colourful library. Who will water them each morning? You’d never get around to your actual job like this.

What was left of the encounter, was that nagging feeling, of being special. Special enough to have watched such a powerful man as Lucius Malfoy become undone. You smiled softly as you stacked several returned books in your arms. Perhaps this wasn’t over yet.

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wilbursprincess · 2 months

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Arranged Marriage With Princebur

Princebur x Reader

Warnings: Sex, mentions of sex, angsty towards the end :D

Hi Tumblr. I wrote this as a ‘crack fic’ (mostly just self indulgent) but was so proud I figured you all deserved it too :) If you’ve read parts 1-4 of my Princebur headcannons, then this is familiar, but if not, you’re in for a treat! This is very loosely inspired from one of my favorite books of all time, ‘The Giver Of Stars’ by Jojo Moyes.

Fic below cut!

When my parents sat me down one day, I knew the news couldn’t be good.

The king and queen of my country were getting older, and all the newspapers were talking about their son, Wilbur, soon to take over the throne, wondering who would be his bride. I’d seen him, a black-and-white photo adorning these articles, and secretly felt sorry for whoever he’d be forced to marry. The royal family was big on arranged marriages. How else would they get more heirs to the throne?

“We’re going to the castle for tea,” my mother explained briskly. “The queen was aware you’re her son’s age, and-”

“Wait, wait, wait,” I interrupt, gaining a sharp glare from my father. “You want to marry me off to a prince?”

My father smiles, though it’s far from warm. “Well, hopefully, if they take liking to you.”

“Have you considered I don’t want to be forced into a loveless marriage, just to be a vessel for heirs to the throne?” I say, both my parents’ gazes turning stony.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” my mother snapped. “It’s a great honor to marry into the royal family. Wilbur’s a good man. Handsome, even.”

Sure. Wilbur’s handsome, if you like the snobby prince look.

“Go get ready,” my father adds, getting up from the table. “Wear your nicest dress, and try and do something with your hair. It looks like you rolled around in a barn.”

“It’s so lovely to meet you,” the queen simpered, giving me a watery smile. “You look lovely. Just like a future princess should.”

Lovely?

The corset my mother cinched me into was so tight, I couldn’t take a deep breath in, a trickle of sweat running down my back. My best shoes hadn’t been worn in over a year, and they were slightly too small, with a blister already forming on my heel. The heavy makeup caked on my cheeks and eyelashes felt thick. Maybe this was why all the royals looked miserable all the time.

“Thank you, ma’am,” I say, forcing a smile when my mother nudges me under the table. “These cakes are delicious.” That wasn’t a lie, however, my father had stopped me from taking more than one. Probably on the grounds that it wasn’t ‘ladylike’.

The queen forces another smile. “Our cooks here are very talented, dear. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger when you marry Wilbur. They’ll wait on you hand and foot.”

I force my face into what I hope is an impressed expression.

I might complain about the chores at home, but I’d be bored silly without them. What would I do, just sit around all day? And wait, wait, did she say ‘when’?

“Did you say, ‘when’ she marries Wilbur?” My father says, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.

The king nods. “We did. Your daughter is exactly what we’re looking for in a bride for our son. She has lovely composure, perfect manners, and we can tell Wilbur’s already taken a liking to her.”

I sneak a glance over at Wilbur, who gives me the tiniest smile. Begrudgingly, I had to admit he was vaguely handsome. Sharp jawline, refined features, slightly messy brunette curls, and sparkling deep brown eyes.

Maybe this won’t be too bad.

“They’ll make such perfect babies,” my mother adds, the queen nodding her agreement. Snatching my eyes away from Wilbur, I pick up my now-lukewarm tea to hide my embarrassment.

Nevermind.

“So it’s agreed?” My father asks.

The king smiles. “It’s agreed. We’ll get to wedding planning right away. Everyone loves a good royal wedding. It’ll bring the country together.”

I’d never seen such a ridiculous waste of money before. The newspapers were eating up any tidbit they could about the wedding, and all the headlines made me groan.

‘Wilbur’s bride-to-be rumored to walk down the aisle in a pure silk gown!’

‘The royal family reported to be buying the future princess an entire wardrobe of velvet and silk, complete with jewlery to match!’

‘Royal wedding to be decorated with thousands of roses!’

I did my best to avoid looking at the bold headlines on the papers that piled up on my kitchen table.

My parents were over the moon, helping me pack up my belongings in preparation for moving into the castle. Or, rather, they were deciding which of my belongings belonged in the castle.

“Why would you bring such an old dress? They’ll just buy you a new one.”

“Those shoes are dreadful. A princess should only be seen in heels!”

In the end, I ended up with just a suitcase of clothes, shoes, and the occasional personal belonging my parents let slide.

My mother decided to teach me all about how to raise children, complete with handing me a satchel of all my old baby clothes and teaching me how to pin a cloth diaper on an old teddy bear. She also had to give me ‘the talk’ about how I’d go about having these babies, which left me horrified.

“Don’t give me that look,” she snapped. “It’s natural. It’s how you were made.”

My father took it as his responsibility to teach me about royal etiquette. He’d once worked as a servant, and had decided it was up to him to drill everything into my head.

“No! Head up, shoulders back, heel-toe walking.”

“You sip tea with your pinky finger out! And stop slouching!’

Honestly, if they were sending me off to work on a farm, I’d be more excited.

“You may now kiss the bride!”

I force myself to stay calm as Wilbur’s rough lips brush mine, and the entire church errupts in cheers and applause. It was sealed. I was now a princess.

Wilbur offers me his arm, and I take it, letting him lead us back down the velvet-covered aisle. I force myself to relax and smile, waving elegantly to the people in the pews, just as my mother drilled into me.

He helps me into the shiny new carriage, drawn by two shiny white horses, flicking their braided tails. More velvet on the inside of the carriage, all the metal features pure gold.

“Is ‘congratulations’ appropriate?” Wilbur says, breaking the very tense silence.

I shift against the seat uncomfortably, the lace edges of my gloves chafing my skin. “I think so.”

“Well, then, congratulations,” he adds, slightly awkwardly. “And sorry.”

He’s sorry?

“What are you sorry for?” I ask, finally looking him in the eyes.

Wilbur sighs. “You didn’t ask for this. Neither of us did, actually, but you especially.”

The heavy silence is even worse when the entire country seems to be cheering us on.

“I promise I’m not that bad,” I offer, and Wilbur cracks a smile.

Neither of us speak for the rest of the ride, and when we arrive at the castle, two men dressed to the nines open the doors. I go to hop out, but Wilbur gently stops me.

“I’m supposed to help you,” he whispers softly.

Luckily, the photographers didn’t seem to catch my slip up, and I accept Wilbur’s hand to step out onto the grounds of my new home. My heels are hurting my feet, and I’m exhausted, but I fix a smile on my face and walk through the grand front doors.

“Well, happy wedding night, darling,” the queen says, kissing both my cheeks with a flourish and handing me a paper-wrapped package. “Just something to make tonight better for you both.”

I accept with a smile, trying not to think about what the package is, before turning and heading up the main staircase to Wilbur and I’s new bedroom.

Wilbur’s not in the room when I walk in, so I flop into the middle of the bed and cautiously unwrap the package. Something small and silky slips onto the sheets, and I unfurl the bundle to see a baby-pink, silk nightgown, the deep neckline and hem lined with lace. I hold it up to my body, seeing it barely reaches my knees.

The door opens, and I drop the nightgown, turning around to see Wilbur carrying in a massive amount of packages.

“Wedding gifts,” he explains, setting them down next to another huge pile I didn’t notice earlier. “Mother wants us to open them before we go to bed. And I have a suspicion-” he indicates a lot of tiny parcels. “-that I know what these are.”

Wilbur tosses them all to me, grabbing several himself before joining me on the bed to unwrap them.

“It’s shoes for you,” he says, handing me a pair of dainty red heels. “What’s in that one?”

I rip open the package and sigh. “A hat for a baby.”

He nods, opening the next one. “Some jewelery for you.”

“Baby shoes and socks.”

“An evening gown.”

“A baby blanket.”

“Some cufflinks.”

“Baby clothes.”

Wilbur gently stops me before I reach for the next one. “I’m detecting a theme.”

“Me too,” I sigh, showing him the nightgown. “Your mother gave me this.”

His dark eyes widen. “Thats…” he trails off, swallowing. “A nightgown.”

“Uh, yea,” I reply. “It’s a nightgown.”

Another awkward silence.

“Look,” Wilbur says, starting to gather up the gifts. “It’s been a long day, and we’ve still got something to do before we can get some sleep. I’ll clean up here, you go get ready, ok?”

Something to d- oh. That.

I nod, grabbing the nightgown and scrambling for our bathroom.

The nightgown is certainly… something.

It seemed far too inappropriate a gift from my now-mother-in-law, as I look at myself in the mirror. Everything is covered, sure. Just barely.

The lace scoops dangerously low in the front, raising dangerously high at the back, and is so thin, it leaves nothing to the imagination.

Now I see what she meant.

There’s a sharp tap on the door. “You ok in there?” Wilbur asks. “You, uh, ready for bed?”

“Yea, I’m good,” I lie. “Just, uh, putting on the nightgown.”

A solid 5 seconds of silence.

“Can I see?” Wilbur’s voice comes out a lot more desperate than either of us was expecting. “I mean, if it’s ok with you-”

When I open the door, his eyes widen, taking in every single inch of silk, lace, and skin. “You…” Wilbur trails off, eyes everwhere but my face. “It’s definitely a nightgown.”

My face burns. “It is.”

“You go get comfortable, and I’ll, uh, get ready.” He says, trying to sound casual.

The bathroom door shuts behind him, and I get into our new bed. The only upside is that our bed is massive, so it’s not like I’ll be spooning the guy every night.

I blink open my eyes as the bathroom door opens, and my new husband walks out in nothing but a pair of striped silk pajama pants, sitting low on his hips. He gets into bed next to me, hesitantly setting a hand on my thigh.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” Wilbur murmurs, a caring note in his voice I hadn’t heard before. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

I feel a new but welcome warmth blooming in my chest, both from the pet name and something else I can’t quite put my finger on. “I’m ready.”

Imagining what would happen on the wedding night, and actually doing it, were two different things. Two very different things.

I expected him to do what he needed to do pretty quickly, roll over, and we’d both go to sleep. Something I’d just lie there through.

Oh God, was I wrong.

There was something otherworldly about our two bodies becoming one, so strange, but so welcomed. It made heat pool between my thighs, pleasure bubbling up between our entwined bodies.

I couldn’t tell if Wilbur was enjoying it, but the noises he was making… soft groans and whines. They were like music to my ears, adding to the tightening in my core, something I’d never felt before, but I never wanted it to end.

The spiral low in my stomach kept tightening, ecstasy running over my body as he kept rutting into me, tightening until it snapped. And when it snapped, radiating out from the apex of my thighs, it was like I was on cloud nine, floating in the clouds, far above the castle, the country, and the planet.

I’d barely recovered from the wave of pleasure that slammed into me when Wilbur lets out a loud moan, burying his face in my shoulder as I felt my inner thighs suddenly wet. The only sounds in the room were mine and Wilbur’s shaky breaths, trying to collect our composure once more.

“If that didn’t work,” Wilbur murmurs, panting. “Could we, uh, do it again?”

I’ve been living in the castle, married to my husband, and a princess for a month now. I still wasn’t quite used to it. Gone were the days I pitched in around the house and could come and go when I pleased. Now, I sat around in a castle, wearing lace, silk, and velvet dresses that made me feel frumpy. All there was to do was sit in the library and read. I’d loose myself in leather-bound tales, about far-off and imaginary lands, trying to wish myself to live between the worn pages instead of here.

“I’ve washed your nightgown for you, ma’am,” one of our housekeepers says to me, dropping off a loud of laundry in our room, thankfully interrupting the conversation the queen was trying to have with Wilbur and I. “I couldn’t quite get the menstrual blood out of it, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, it’s no issue,” I reply, face burning as I take the neatly folded pile, avoiding the gaze I’m sure the queen was giving me. “Thank you.”

The queen shakes her head, continuing knitting something that looked, suspiciously like a hat for a baby. “It’s ok, dear,” she says, forcing kindness into her voice. “Maybe next month Wilbur will do his job.”

Wilbur snorts into his tea, making his mother give him a very stern look. We make eye contact over the rim of the mug, warmth blooming in my chest.

He’s on my side.

“That hat looks nice,” I say to hopefully break the awkward silence.

The queen grimaces. “It’s a sweater for a newborn,” she says briskly, making Wilbur hide his laughter with a pretend coughing fit. “Wilbur, are you ill? Why are you coughing.”

“I’m fine, mother,” he lies, gulping down the rest of his tea. “Why don’t you head down to the sitting room and let me and my wife spend some time together?”

She immediately brightens up. “Oh, yes, of course,” she says, packing up her knitting and giving me a wink. “Good luck, you two.”

The second the door shuts behind her, Wilbur groans, burying his face in his hands. “Does she only care about you as some sort of baby-vessel?”

I sigh, wringing one of my carefully-folded dresses in my hands. “I think so.”

Awkwardly, Wilbur leans over, carefully putting a loose arm around my shoulders. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t think of you like that.”

Blinking up at him, I feel a heat spread through my face. “Thank you, Wilbur.”

“Of course,” he murmurs, brushing a lock of hair out of my face. “So the… blood, it means you’re not pregnant, right?”

I nod. Wilbur’s face, inexplicably, breaks out in a grin.

“That’s good news?” I question, and he nods. “But, your parents-”

He shrugs dismissively. “Look, I had about as much of a choice as you did. Just because I have royalty in my blood, it doesn’t mean I like it.”

“You don’t like being a prince?” I reply, shocked. “Whenever I see you in the papers, you seem to like this life.”

Wilbur laughs, shaking his head. “That’s called ‘acting’, darling.” The pet name makes my face flush, though it’s not unwelcomed. “And now I’ve somehow dragged you into this mess.”

“At least we’re both equally unhappy?” I offer. “I promise I won’t mention this to anyone else. We can get through this.” I hesitate before adding the last word. “Together.”

Nodding, Wilbur brushes his lips against my cheek. “Together.”

“Wilbur, are you alright?” I ask, walking into our room a few nights later to see my husband sitting on the edge of our bed, looking pensive. “What happened?”

He sighs, patting the blanket as an invite for me to sit. “Mother’s been complaining to the staff about not getting her grandchildren yet. Apparently, she got pregnant with me the night she married my father, and saying I’m not living up to the family legacy.”

“Oh.” As much as I hate myself for it, my core tightens deliciously at the thought of Wilbur and I’s wedding night. “I’m sorry. I… parents.” I awkwardly finish.

“Parents,” he agrees. “So, uh, if you’re down, do you want to, y’know, try again?”

I nod immediately, a little embarrassed by how eager I look. “Sure.”

Wilbur awkwardly chews on his lower lip. “Did you… enjoy it? Last time?”

“I did.” I whisper. “Did you?”

He kicks his toe against the plush rug our bed sits on. “More than I should admit,” he murmurs. “I’ve read a lot of books in my years in this castle, so naturally, I’ve read about… that. If my parents knew I found those books, they’d be horrified.”

Surprisingly, I hear myself giggle. “Why would they be horrified about you reading about how to give them grandchildren?”

“Because those books don’t exactly see it as something for having babies. They see it as something to bring you closer to your partner, something that feels good.”

We’re both silent for a few moments.

“So, since you want to do it again…” Wilbur continues. “I know how to make it better for you. Do you still want to?”

I find myself nodding before the words even leave his mouth, reaching down to pull off my top. I’m left just in my bra and skirt, Wilbur’s eyes running all over my exposed skin.

“Can I take your bra off?” He whispers, cupping my breasts through the fabric. Even the hint of his touch makes my stomach tighten, and I nod.

His hand reaches around to my back, struggling with the clasp for a good few seconds before it pops open. Eyes wider than dinner plates, Wilbur rubs a thumb over my nipple until I groan.

“That’s good, right?” He asks anxiously.

“It’s good,” I reply, shimmying my skirt and tights down my thighs. “Do you want me to lie down, or-“

Wilbur nods, pulling off his shirt and reaching for the zipper on his pants. Just the motion of unzipping his pants makes the apex of my thighs throb.

When I look up again from taking off the rest of my clothes, he’s fully naked, chest heaving. I’d never seen him like this, and it’s not unwelcome.

“Tell me if this hurts, ok?” Wilbur whispers, tracing up my thigh and fumbling around a little before finding a spot that makes me gasp. His long fingers circle around and rub the little nub, the pleasure so intense my legs go weak.

“Oh my,” I manage to gasp out, that lovely tightening in my core getting stronger. “Please… don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replies, speeding up his touches and looking slightly smug at my blissed-out expression.

My hand grasps at his wrist so I can rub against his fingers, the ever-tightening spiral threatening to snap…

…And it snaps.

I close my eyes tight as I let out a long, low moan, hips bucking up against Wilbur’s hand as I ride it out, floating up in the clouds again.

“Safe to say that felt good?” Wilbur’s voice brings me back down to earth, and I’m disappointed when he pulls his hand back. “It’s going to get even better, I promise.”

While I’m still wondering how on earth he managed to do that to me with just his fingers, I feel him pushing himself inside me, everything so much more sensitive this time, and it’s wonderful. We groan in unison, his face buried in my shoulder.

“Can I move now?” Wilbur asks.

“Please,” I reply, wrapping my legs around his waist to steady myself. This lets him push in even deeper, putting pressure on the spot he’d been touching earlier.

Wilbur’s a lot less gentle this time, and a lot more vocal. A lot. Our hips snap together, and I let myself move with him instead of laying still.

“So good,” he murmurs in my ear, breath hitching. “So good, sweetheart.”

I wasn’t expecting another moment on cloud 9 for the second time in one night, but when the familiar feeling builds up again, I practically feel like I’m floating. It’s different than earlier, deeper and more intense, but just as welcome.

The second high is just as intense as the first, my back arching as I ride it out. Wilbur’s not far behind me, sighing as I feel my bare stomach suddenly wet.

“Sorry, I kind of…” he trails off awkwardly, grabbing his shirt off the mattress and wiping up the mess. “This is awkward.”

“You’re good,” I murmur sleepily, absolutely exhausted from the night’s activities.

Surprisingly, Wilbur cleans both of us up, climbing into bed and pulling me into his chest to cuddle.

“This ok?” He asks, and I sleepily nod.

He drifts off to sleep, but I stay awake, wondering why exactly my arranged husband could make me feel things like this.

Life keeps dragging along. Wilbur seems more distant and secretive, hiding envelopes in his pillowcase and burning letters before anyone else can see them. My mother-in-law keeps insisting I join her for tea every afternoon, which essentially means being extremely nosy and overbearing for an hour or two, drilling me on everything from how I carry myself in public to her ever-lack of grandchildren. My dresses keep disappearing after I hand them to the staff to wash, Wilbur blaming it on his mother.

One evening, I walk into our bedroom to see Wilbur in his warmest coat, a suitcase open on the bed, and two envelopes sitting next to it on the bedspread.

“I’m getting you out,” Wilbur says, smiling at me with indifferent eyes. “I’ve packed you some casual dresses and shoes, stuff nobody will notice missing. There’s money in that envelope, and a letter to my friend. He lives over the border on a farm, and he’ll find a place for you.”

I expect to feel a wash of relief, getting my life back, but no. All I feel is a tugging at my heart, a pang of sadness.

“You’ve got 10 minutes. Grab anything else you need, and I’ll take you as far as the border,” Wilbur continues, avoiding my eyes. “I’ll sneak downstairs and wrap up some food for you.”

While he’s gone, I quickly glance around, slipping the books on my nightstand into the suitcase. Wilbur’s done a good job packing my things, leaving behind the gaudy dresses and tasteless jewlery, slipping in my most-worn dresses and comfiest shoes. I change out of my nightgown and slippers, packing them and slipping on a warm dress, boots, and my heaviest coat. Fat snowflakes were falling from the sky, a chilling wind rattling the windows of the castle. This wasn’t going to be fun.

“Here,” Wilbur whispers, making me jump and turn around. “I couldn’t get much, but there’s some bread and apples. It’s better than nothing.”

He closes the suitcase, grabbing the woolen cap off his head and pulling it over mine. “Wrap this around your shoulders,” he tells me, handing me the thick blanket off our bed. “If we leave now, you’ll be out of the country by daybreak.”

I do as he tells me, nestling into the blanket as he wraps a heavy scarf around my face. “Grab your suitcase, and we’re leaving.”

I watch, dumbfounded, as Wilbur pulls open the window and leaps onto the steep shingled roof. “I’ll help you,” he promises, taking my suitcase and my hand so I can climb out. I lean up to shut the window.

There’s no going back now.

We walk all night in the frigid, unrelenting wind. My face, hands, and feet are numb, and I can’t recall ever being this cold before.

His friend hasn’t arrived at the meeting spot yet, so we settle into the shelter of a massive holly bush to try and rest our weary legs. Wilbur takes off his coat, placing it over my lap, and wraps me in his arms. Finally, I let myself cry, the hot, salty tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt.

“You’re ok,” he murmurs, tightening his hold on me. “Once you leave the country and forget about the past months, you’ll be ok. Your life is just beginning.”

All I can do is nod, continuing to sob into his chest. I couldn’t even begin to verbalise that the tears weren’t for our country or my old life, they were for him.

The time we spend in the shelter of the holly bush feels like an eternity. Just as the sun gives hints at appearing over the horizon, we hear the bumping of a cart, the snorting of a horse, and I know it’s time to go.

Wilbur loads my suitcase onto the cart, settling me down in the scratchy hay and nestling blankets around me. “I’ll be back,” he whispers.

I hear him and his friend exchanging a few words, the envelope being handed over, and Wilbur’s footsteps coming back towards me. To say goodbye.

“Take care of yourself, Wilbur, ok?” I say, trying to hold back the tears running down my cheeks. “What wil your parents say?”

“That doesn’t matter. Please, forgive me,” he begs. “Forget everything we did, forget the past months. I’m giving you your life back.”

He wipes away the endless flood of tears, kisses me on the cheek, and steps off the wagon. His jacket is still over my lap, and I press my face into it, his familiar smell washing over me.

The reins snap, the horse and cart rattling down the cobbled road, heading away. Away from my home, away from the castle, and away from Wilbur. Ahead? Whatever lay over the border. I had food in my suitcase and more money than I’d seen in my life. I’d find a way.

My eyes close, Wilbur’s face swimming over my closed lids, and I force the image away.

“Wait!”

I snap my head up as the cart rattles to a halt.

“Please, wait!”

It was Wilbur’s voice.

Dumbfounded, I watch as he comes running up the road, not slowing down until he reaches the cart, practically leaping into the hay and wrapping his arms around me.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he sobs. “Please let me come with you. I’ll leave my country, leave my chance at the throne, whatever it takes to stay with you. I love you.” His face is pressed against mine, slick with both our tears.

“Don’t leave me again,” I manage to say through my tears. “Please don’t leave me again.”

“I never will,” Wilbur promises. “I want to spend the rest of my life by your side.”

The cart continues to make its way down the road, every step taking us closer to our new life. Our new home.

Wilbur and I’s new life is everything I’d ever dreamed of.

Once we made it across the border, we moved into a tiny cottage in the middle of the woods on a couple acres of farmland. Wilbur ended up sneaking my most valuable jewels into the bottom of my suitcase, which we promptly sold to afford some things for our house.

Coming from a life of luxury, being waited on hand and foot, to living on our own in a one-room cottage was a shock, to say the least. Wilbur really stepped up, teaching himself to cook and clean so the housework wouldn’t all fall on me. With the money from the jewelry, we bought a bed, kitchen table, two chairs, and some linens. It was all we had, and all we needed.

I taught myself to farm fruit and vegetables, as well as bake bread and make jams out of our harvests. Wilbur bought a cow, thinking we could get a decent amount of meat from her, but got too attached and ended up naming her Daisy.

“It’s a real farm now,” he said proudly, stroking Daisy’s forehead. “But doesn’t she look a little lonely?”

The next addition to our farm was a chicken coop, laying us plenty of eggs for breakfast. At Wilbur’s suggestion, I bought some flour and sugar, and used some of the butter I made from Daisy’s milk and eggs from the coop to start baking bread and cakes.

I went to the market every week, selling my homemade bread, cakes, and jam, which brought in a significant amount of money. For now, our family was complete…

…Until Wilbur showed up one morning with a skinny stray dog, looking very proud of himself.

“She can guard the farm for us,” he announced, scratching her behind the ears. “She can eat scraps, too.”

Princess, as she came to be known, did not end up guarding the farm or eating scraps. She slept in Wilbur and I’s bed each night, licking the pan clean from dinner or chowing down on scrambled eggs that Wilbur made for her.

“This certainly beats the castle,” I murmured to Wilbur one night as we lay in bed, Princess fast asleep between us as the fireplace crackles.

He leans in to kiss my forehead. “It does. I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too.”

#princesswrites #wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x reader #mcyt x you #wilbur x you #princebur #wilbur angst #wilbur soot smut #bursona smut #wilbur smut #dsmp smut #mcyt angst #wilbur mcyt #mcyt x reader #mcyt smut #princessfics

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thatacotargirl · 4 days

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Hiii, I saw your posts about taking requests! (loving Shadows and Surprises btw 👏)

How about a nice fluffy one-shot (take your pick of the bat-boys 😊) where reader wakes up on her cycle with bloody sheets and bad cramps, and she starts apologising about the sheets but she's in a lot of pain, but he immediately takes care of her and pampers her (changes sheets, runs her a bath, gives tea and chocolate, lots of cuddles and kisses, etc)

Ahhh I love this, it's so cute! Thank you so much for the request - I hope enjoy!

Inbox is open for requests so please do send any through!

Warnings: blood, vomit, general pain (?)

A Cassian x Reader Imagine

It had been a few months since Rhysand had introduced you to his Inner Circle. What started off as a small part-time job working on his accounts and book-keeping turned into a full-time lifestyle. After the first 2 weeks of proving yourself invaluable to him and his Court, Rhys invited you to move into the House of Wind and work alongside him full-time. Your tiny studio apartment with mould, rats, and goodness knows what else inside the walls was not the most luxurious of lifestyles, and you had already grown so attached to the rest of the Inner Circle that you jumped at the opportunity. It also helped that you had developed a teeny tiny crush on the delicious male that was Cassian, so living in the same home as him made life just that little bit sweeter.

Life had, truthfully, never been better.

Yet today, you felt sluggish. Tired. Frustrated. And what made it worse was that you had no reason to feel that way. You had slept well, eaten well, trained that morning - you should be at the peak of your health. But today was finding every possible way to challenge you. After confusing an 8 for a 3 for the third time that afternoon, you threw your pen across the study in complete exasperation. What was going on!

At that moment, the study door cracked on a touch, and the familiar scent of Cassian wafted in.

"Are you ok in here y/n? I heard a bang?". A bang was an understatement considering you had chucked a gigantic book on the floor in your frustration that near shook the House.

"Yes I am fine" you replied through gritted teeth, refusing to turn and look at him. You had tears in your eyes for reasons you could not explain, and you didn't want him to see you like that. Why on earth were you now crying over a 3?!

Cassian walked over to you and gently held your chin, pulling your face to look at him. You breathed in his scent, feeling an instant calm, and took a deep breath. When your eyes met his, Cassian looked at you with concern.

"You look exhausted, y/n, have you been sleeping?" he asked.

"Yes, Cassian, I have been sleeping - I think I'm just having a bad day that's all" you replied, a little too harshly, pulling your eyes away from his so he couldn't see the tears re-forming in response to his gentle worrying. You response made Cassian's concern grow, so he bent down, scooped you off the chair, and carried you out of the study.

"CASSIAN PUT ME DOWN" you shouted, smacking at his shoulders, mindful to avoid his wings.

"Not a chance. You look like you need to sleep, and considering you nearly bit my head off when I asked, I am insisting that you at least humour me with a one hour nap" he retorted, carrying you up the stairs to the second floor. You noticed that you passed your own bedroom door, and had been walked straight into Cassian's. He put you down on his bed and walked over to draw his curtains. You started to protest, but you couldn't deny that his bed was particularly comfy, and his scent had such a calming effect on you that your lids were already getting heavy.

"Sleep", Cassian said, pulling the duvet up to your chin. "I will wake you in an hour".

You wanted to argue back, but you hadn't truly realised how tired you were, and with the warmth, the scent, the darkness, the quiet, you found yourself quickly drifting off for your Cassian-prescribed nap.

The door creaked open exactly one hour late, and Cassian froze. He couldn't sense a threat, couldn't see anyone in his room besides you still curled up asleep in his bed, but he could scent blood. He padded over to you, concern lacing his voice as he gentle called your name and shook your shoulder to wake you.

"y/n? It's been an hour, are you ready to get up?" he asked, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed. You stirred and slowly leant up on your elbows, peering at him with half-asleep eyes. You opened your mouth to respond, but suddenly felt yourself hit with an intense stomach cramp and your mouth watered with nausea. You flew from the bed, pushing Cassian to the side as you headed straight for his bathroom. A few moments later and Cassian was beside you, holding your hair and rubbing your back.

When you had finished, he carefully leaned you back against the edge of the bathtub.

"Are you ok?" he asked, his face etched with worry.

"Better now I think", you replied, "I'm so sorry Cassian I don't know what came over me, maybe I ate something funny, I was feeling a bit off all day before you found me".

"So when I asked if you were ok earlier, you lied" he said, although the corners of his mouth tipped up into a small smile.

"Potentially" was all you could get out, before another wave of pain and nausea took over your body and you crawled back towards the toilet.

"I'm just going to head down and get you a glass of water, ok? Stay here" he ordered, before turning quickly on his heels and heading out.

After you had finished, Cassian still hadn't returned, so you decided to hoist yourself up and get back into his bed, feeling a bit better on the nausea side - although still having some stomach cramps. It was when you reached the side of the bed you had been sleeping on that you looked down and saw the large pool of blood covering the bed sheets. Gazing down, you realised it was not only covering the bed, but also covering you - bright red coating the entire inside seam of your pale blue leggings, almost down to your knees. You shook violently, panic and embarrassment taking over your entire body. You quickly threw Cassian's pillows on the floor and started to tear at the bedding, wanting to get it off and change it as quickly as you could before he could realise, but you had barely got half of the bed sheet off the giant bed before Cassian re-appeared in the doorway.

You turned to face him, a tray in his hands, and crumpled onto the floor. This is exactly what you needed today - the hot General that you have a major crush on has tried to do something nice for you and you have completely put your foot in it and destroyed his bed. Great. Just fab.

"Hey hey" Cassian quickly put the tray on his desk before dropping down to your level. "What's the matter?" he asked. You couldn't even get the words out between your sobs, gesturing blindly at the bed and yourself. You hid your face in your hands, utterly mortified.

Cassian's confusion was so evident that you dared to glance up at him. "Are you ok?" was all he asked. You nodded, then shook your head, then resumed sobbing. He pulled you into his chest and let you continue until your tears turned to small sniffs.

"I guessed when I opened the door" he said quietly, his hands stroking through your hair. "Your mad dash to the toilet was all the confirmation I needed - you almost sent me flying off the bed and, whilst I train you well, you're not normally that strong" he teased.

"I'm so sorry" was all you could get out, head still buried in his chest.

"Nonsense, what is there to be sorry about?" he asked.

"I ruined your bed".

Cassian laughed and helped you both stand up. "I quite literally cause people to bleed for a living. A bit on my bed is hardly cause for concern". He guided you over to the tray he had brought upstairs.

"So, I have got you some peppermint tea to help with the nausea, Rhys gave me a tonic he gives to Feyre to help with the pain - but he said Feyre always complains about how bad it tastes, so there's a lemon drop sweet for after just in case - and I stole a slice of Elain's chocolate cake that was in the fridge because I thought you might like that - oh and some cheese. I'm not sure why, but I thought you might want some, I always think cheese helps make any situation better, but maybe not if you've been sick..."

He was so excited as he showed you all the goodies he had found for you that your embarrassment fell away completely, even though you realised he must have announced your situation to the entire house downstairs. Before you could make any comment, he grasped your shoulders and walked you back to the bathroom, where the House had run you a lavender scented bath.

"Hop in the bath, freshen up, and you can enjoy the cake" he said, with a beam. He handed you a fresh set of pyjamas he had taken from your room and closed the door behind himself to give you some privacy.

After your soak, you changed and headed back into his bedroom. The sheets were fresh, with no sign of your incident, and Cassian was lounging on his side with a book in hand. You noticed that the book you had been reading, a smutty romance recommended by the House, was resting on the other pillow. Cassian must have grabbed it from your room when he got the pyjamas. He smiled at you when you came back and offered you a hand to climb onto the bed next to him.

"You are staying in here tonight, ok?" he said, "I don't want you to be alone and refuse help if you need it, especially since you were so stubborn earlier".

You laughed, quite happy to stay in Cassian's bed. He pulled the tray over to you both and offered you the peppermint tea and a fork for the chocolate cake.

"OH WAIT, take the tonic first!" he said, handing it to you. Feyre was right, it was disgusting. But, it did help the dull ache in your stomach, enough so that you were able to happily enjoy your slice of stolen chocolate cake. You made a mental note to apologise to Elain tomorrow.

After you were quite full and content, and had settled down to read for a while, you felt your eyes getting heavy again. Cassian noticed, and pulled you into him. You revelled in the comfort, enjoying every moment of it - you didn't think you'd ever get another chance to be this close to him and you certainly weren't going to pass it up.

"Sleep", he said "it'll help". He started to read aloud from his book, helping you to ease into a deep, deep sleep. One of the best sleeps of your life.

"Thank you, Cassian, for everything" you mumbled, eyes closed.

"You are welcome, y/n" he replied, pulling you closer to his body.

You were silent then, your body and eyes heavy, your brain slowly quieting and shutting down for the night. You felt Cassian lean down, assuming you had fallen asleep, and place a gentle kiss on the top of your head. As sleep called to you, you heard him very quietly whisper into the dark, "I would go to the ends of the Earth for you, y/n".

#a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x y/n #cassian acotar #cassian x reader #cassian imagine #cassian x y/n #acotar imagine #acotar oneshot

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devildom-moss · 1 year

Text

Biting their necks (Mammon, Satan, Beel, Diavolo, and Raphael)

What would happen if you bit their necks with no warning?

(A/N: What? I actually picked random characters instead of separating them into groups/categories. Wild. Has that ever happened? I think I might have just picked these five because they are the most bite-able. chomp chomp)

(Mammon x gn!MC) (Satan x gn!MC) (Beelzebub x gn!MC) (Diavolo x gn!MC) (Raphael x gn!MC)

(suggestive)

Mammon

Mammon was distracted by the horror movie he had put on to try to show off his bravery ineffectively. You, on the other hand, were distracted by his exposed shoulders and neck in that black tank top. He was so pretty – even when he was trying so hard to mask the fear on his face. It was obvious that he was scared, but he refused to look away from the screen. Fortunately, you figured out a way to give into your temptation and ease his fear by tearing his eyes from that screen. You inched closer to him in the dark.

“W-why’re ya gettin’ so close?” Mammon asked just seconds before your teeth met his warm skin.

You didn’t bite him hard – just enough for him to feel slight pressure. You flicked your tongue against his hot neck a few times. His pulse quickened against your mouth. Instinctively, he arched his neck for you. Mammon had always been so honest with his physical reactions, and it was adorable.

“H-HEY! What do ya think you're doin’?” He yelled, but he didn’t mean it angrily. You flicked your tongue over his skin again, pulling a growl that slipped into a moan from his lips. “H-hey, MC, come on.”

“Hmm?” You hummed against his skin.

“Don’t just tease me.”

Satan

You found Satan in the House of Lamentation’s library, immersed in what (judging by the cover) looked to be some steamy monster-themed romance (although the contents of the book leaned more towards erotica than romance). A faint pink blush showed on his cheeks. How could you resist teasing him just a bit? You came up behind him and bent down to place a tender kiss on his neck before sinking your teeth into him.

Without setting his book down, Satan lolled his head back and moaned mindlessly. He was surprisingly loud, so much so that you released him. That only made him whine, so you bit back down into him – using only the slightest amount of pressure. Satan’s face was vibrantly pink, but he still moaned out for you shamelessly. Running your tongue across his skin only exacerbated the moaning. Certainly, if anyone was in an adjacent room or out in the hallway, they would either be awkwardly sneaking out of earshot or rushing in to stop whatever lewd acts were occurring. But it was too late for Satan. His breath hitched and he spoke, shakily, “don’t stop. I want more. Please?”

“In here?” you asked without letting your lips leave his neck. Your teeth grazed his skin gently. Satan let out a heavy sigh.

“Yes,” Satan practically panted. His page had been marked and his book was set down in certainty of his desire. “I need you now.”

Beelzebub

Beel was in the kitchen again, but this time he was prepping dinner by cutting up vegetables for curry. He was even wearing the Devilcat apron you had bought him the other month. Watching him from the doorway, you couldn’t help but feel a bit proud of Beel: he hadn’t snacked on any of the raw vegetables yet.

“Did you get hungry, MC? Dinner will still be a while, but you can come in and snack while I cook,” Beel commented nonchalantly. You weren’t even aware that he had noticed you.

If you were being honest, Beel looked more delicious than dinner did. Although, in his defense, nothing had come together yet. As you got closer to him, the urge to take a bite came over you. You wrapped your arms around him and sunk your teeth into the base of his neck before sucking on his skin gently. Beel continued to chop vegetables, seemingly unphased. His body hadn’t even tensed at all. Disappointed, you gave him a few soft licks before releasing him.

“Do I . . . taste good, MC?” Beel asked you timidly, his face flushed pink. He set the knife on the counter and turned around so he could face you. He looked simultaneously embarrassed and hungry when he met your eyes. “Do you want to taste me more, or can I try you now?”

“What about dinner?” you questioned him.

His desire for you had overshadowed his hunger. He lifted you up and sat you down on the clean counter behind you. Beel sank to his knees and stared up at you. “It can wait a bit longer. I need an appetizer first.”

Diavolo

Diavolo was working in the council room at his desk. Barbatos had, foolishly, asked you to deliver a set of documents for Diavolo to review and sign by tomorrow morning. Perhaps it wasn’t too foolish since you both knew how much Diavolo hated paperwork, but he would be much more receptive if you were to hand it to him. Even knowing how bored and unstimulated he was, Diavolo always looked so handsome when he was working. He actually looked serious – and it wasn’t because one of the many idiots you dealt with on the daily had put you in danger this time.

You walked up to him, but he was too focused to pay you much attention. He wanted to greet you with his usual bright smile, but there was just one more paragraph left in this 29-page proposal – if you could just give him one more minute. You set the new documents off to the side and bent down to kiss the top of his head.

“One more, okay?” You whispered the words just behind his ear before nipping at his neck playfully.

Diavolo chuckled and turned to look at you. “Aren’t you frisky today. Are you trying to seduce me away from my work?”

“The opposite, actually,” you pet his head and caressed down the side of his face until your fingers were just below his chin. You ran your thumb over his lower lip. Diavolo couldn’t resist smiling. “I’m trying to encourage you to work hard by giving you a preview of what to expect once you’re finished.”

That lit a fire under him, and Barbatos decided that he would make you deliver documents more often.

Raphael

Raphael had asked you to come shopping with him for new fabric, and when it started to rain on your way back to Purgatory Hall, you both booked it the rest of the way back. Luckily, it wasn’t very far, so when you both arrived at the building, panting in the entryway, you managed to walk – or rather run – away with only a slightly damp shirt. However, Raphael still insisted you both change shirts – if for no other reason than to just avoid the discomfort of damp clothes.

He brought you into his room, and after finding a top that would fit you and a suitable replacement for his own shirt, he started to strip. It was easier than it should have been to forget how pretty Raphael could be – especially when he was quite literally damp and pathetic. You felt sinfully drawn towards him.

“Hey, Raph,” you called out to him. He let out a little “hm” as he placed his shirt in the laundry hamper. You snuck up behind him and bit into his neck below his choker – and you weren’t exactly gentle about it. His skin was cool to the touch, and it made your mouth feel even hotter against him.

“Ah- ow. Why are you putting your teeth in me?” He asked. You released him to speak but he stopped you and reached behind him to place a hand on your back. Raphael pulled you closer to his body and admitted, “n-no. Keep going. I like how it feels.”

(Barbatos, Simeon, Solomon, Thirteen, Mephistopheles version)

(Lucifer, Leviathan, Asmodeus, Belphegor version)

#mammon #satan #beelzebub #diavolo #raphael #gn!mc #obey me short fic #obey me #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me diavolo #obey me raphael

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buckyalpine · 2 years

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Teach Me

18+ Minors dni

Bucky x inexperienced f reader

A/N: Writing for the lovely @chrisdrysdale writing challenge. Might add a part 2 please leave all the comments and thoughts!! Always love to hear what you think!

Prompt: 7. Sleep princess, you need it

Warnings: smut (fingering, mutual masturbation m & f, lil daddy kink) swearing, fluff

Word count: 3.7k

You groaned, falling back onto the bed, letting your head bounce off the pillow. You felt frustrated but you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was bothering you. It had been weeks of this nagging feeling, like you were missing something, a craving left unsatisfied. But you didn’t even know what you wanted. Everything in your life was normal. As normal as it could be, being one of earths “mightiest heroes”. You looked over to the clock. 1:16 AM. You were definitely not going to fall asleep anytime soon. Usually you would toss and turn until it was time for training but this time you decided to get an early start instead. No one was usually up at this time, so you looked forward to a good workout unbothered by anyone else. You threw on your sports bra, some shorts and an oversized t-shirt, heading towards the training room.

As you entered the gym, you could already hear the thumps and grunts from someone hitting the punching bag. Your heart rate picked up slightly at the sight of a shirtless Bucky throwing punches, his knuckles bleeding and bruised though that didn’t seem to bother him. His breath was heavy, his back glistening, sweat trailing down his back. His sweats hung low on his waist…dangerously deliciously low. If he turned around, you’d see his Adonis belt and what you wouldn’t do to just lic-

“What are you doing here at this time doll?”

Bucky broke you out of your trance. You felt heat travel to your face, now wondering if he had caught you staring. You gaped like a fish, completely forgetting why you were at the gym at this hour.

“You heard me come in?”

“The serum. Enhanced hearing” He smirked. He didn’t just hear you walking in. He saw the flush of your cheeks, noted the increased heart rate. He could practically smell how aroused you were.

“Oh. Couldn’t sleep, haven’t in weeks. Thought I’d get a workout in instead of staying in bed”

“Ah, what’s been keeping you up?” “I’m not sure actually. Just feel like I’m high strung all the time even when I’m tired. Even now, I’m exhausted but I just never feel relaxed enough to get some decent sleep”

Bucky noticed the way you nervously bit your bottom lip, as your eyes flicked down to his lips, then chest and then down to his…

“I think you’re just sexually frustrated doll” Bucky looked down at you with a shit eating grin on his face.

“BUCKY!” You were definitely already flustered but somehow your face flushed more. You felt like you were on fire from what he just said.

“I’m just saying! When was the last time you’ve gone out on a date anyway?” Bucky was genuinely curious. If you were not out on a mission, you were most definitely somewhere around the compound with a book or scrolling through TikTok.

“I don’t know, like 8 months ago? It didn’t go anywhere though” You cringed, recalling your painfully awkward date Aaron. 3 drinks in, he began to sob over his ex from 5 year ago. You had reluctantly agreed to be set up on a blind date by one of your friends. She insisted you were the perfect match. You were no longer friends with her. You had also lost all hope in dating.

“Why, did he not know what he was doing” Bucky smirked, his interest piqued. You glared at him, wanting to flick the stupid smirk off his perfectly handsome face.

“Not everything is about sex Barnes” You scoffed, mentally hitting yourself for deciding to workout at this hour. This is why you should be lazy.

“That’s what you’d say if he was bad at it” Bucky took a step closer to you as you breath hitched in your throat.

“Well I wouldn’t know” Now your eyes were looking everywhere except him. You could feel him eyeing you up and down in your overly flustered state. He was enjoying this. Bastard.

“So you guys didn’t…..” “No.” “So…how long has it been since…” Bucky’s eyebrows wiggled up and down, the shit eating grin plastered back on his face.

“Seriously? What are you going to do with this information?”

“I’m just trying to get an idea!” Bucky threw his hands up in defense.

“Shut up perv” You were not about to disclose your nonexistent sex life with him. Bucky cocked his head to the side. He wasn’t going to let this go until he got an answer. “2 years” You mumbled.

“2 years?!!” Bucky’s eyes grew wide as you glared at him. “Sorry, just. WOW. Wow.”

“Yes, my sex life is awful, will you please move on so I can actually finish what I came here for”. Honestly, you didn’t need a workout anymore. Bucky had made you sweat and increased your heart rate more than the treadmill ever did.

“Okay, okay. What about by yourself, you know…” “You’re so gross oh my god!” “Everyone does it” The humor in Bucky’s face disappeared as he looked at you dead in the eyes. He was being serious.

“I do! It’s just…It’s not great okay?”

“How do you mess up self pleasure?!” At this point Bucky was genuinely confused. He could understand someone else not knowing what to do but surely you knew how to take care of yourself.

You loved saving and caring for others. You just never bothered to do the same for yourself. Every time you wanted to, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Your hands would fumble around for a few minutes, and then you’d stop. It embarrassed you, and the fact that you felt embarrassed over something so normal and natural embarrassed you more.

“I don’t know how! It’s not like the guys I’ve been with before were amazing to even try and get off thinking about them”

“Why them, think about someone you’re attracted to now” Duh. “It feels embarrassing trying to imagine myself with someone who wouldn’t look twice at me in that way. So I never did….that. Are you happy now?” What pained you the most was the crush you were harboring on the super soldier. You had seen the girls he dated and whatever his type was, it wasn’t you.

Bucky felt his heart sink. You were stunning; he couldn’t imagine a single person that would say otherwise. He felt a pang of anger, wondering who put those thoughts in your head to make you feel this way in the first place.

“I don’t mean to overstep here but you’re beautiful doll. Anyone can see it”

“Whatever you say Barnes”

You rolled your eyes as your body continued to feel like it was set ablaze. Bucky was a charmer, he made everyone blush, from the barista at Starbucks to the little old lady at the corner shop. There was no way he actually found you attractive.

“I’m serious. No wonder you can’t sleep, you’re pent up. I could show you what to do” Bucky took another step towards you; you could feel his warm breath fan on your face, his eyes gazing into you.

“What are you, a sex guru?” You snorted “What are you going to do Barnes, teach me how to touch myself?”

“Sure”

You burst out laughing and immediately stopped when you saw Bucky was being completely serious.

“You can’t be serious. Maybe you know what you’re doing in bed but you’re telling me you also know how to show someone else how to touch themselves?”

“No one’s ever complained about my hands before, I can show you how to use those pretty fingers on yourself doll”

Dreaming. You must be dreaming. There was no way in hell this conversation was actually taking place. You were curious though. Very curious.

“Fine” you smirked. There was no way he’d actually take up his own offer. “We’ll see if you actually know what you’re talking about” “I always keep my word baby”

Bucky smirked at you, watching you leave the gym to go back to your room. He wasn’t sure what the hell just happened. He always kept his feelings for you at bay. He had seen decent guys approach you, only for you to turn them down seconds after speaking to them. If you weren’t giving guys like that a chance, he wasn’t willing to risk anything. Except now.

You paced around your room wondering how the hell you got yourself into this situation. He wasn’t actually going to come up here. You sighed, still blushing over the interaction you just had, changing out of your gym clothes and throwing on the oversized t-shirt you slept in. You started to get into bed when you heard a knock at the door. Jumping out of bed, you did a quick once over in the mirror before opening the door.

“Hey doll”

Bucky had showered and changed into a plain black t-shirt and grey sweats. This man was going to be the death of you.

“Hey Buck, you actually came” The surprise was evident in your voice as you opened the door to let him in. “I told you I always keep my word baby, but only if you want to” Bucky gazed down at you but it wasn’t out of lust; it was out of adoration. You walked over and sat at the edge of your bed, your knees pressed tightly together. You suddenly felt overwhelmingly self conscious, realizing that he was right there. In your room. Right now. You looked at the floor as Bucky closed the door behind him.

“Hey, look at me. Its normal, you don’t have to be ashamed of anything. If you feel uncomfortable we can stop and this conversation never happened” He kneeled in front of you so he could look at you, only sincerity in his words.

You shook your head. You didn’t know what to expect when you agreed to this, but you were certainly not expecting him to be so…understanding. His blue eyes showed nothing but concern and care for you. Your heart skipped a beat as your cheeks flushed. You could feel butterflies making your stomach flip. Fuck, you wanted this.

“I want this….for you to show me….”

Bucky sat up on your bed against your headboard with his legs crossed. He took your hand, pulling you towards him.

“Lay back on me princess”

You shifted to sit on his lap, still feeling tense.

“Here, just relax baby” Bucky hands gently caressed your arms, wanting you to feel comfortable.

You relaxed your body against him, your heart racing a million miles a minute. Part of you wanted to back down, tell him this was a stupid idea and he didn’t have to put himself through this for you. But another side of you wanted this so bad, the one person you had almost touched yourself to soo many times, stopping because it felt so unrealistic he’d see you like that.

Your room had a large bed with a full length 3 panel mirror across from it. Your entire body heated up looking at yourself in just your t-shirt, splayed on Bucky’s lap. His eyes flicked up, meeting yours in the mirrors reflection. He’d give anything to be with you like this every single night.

“You look beautiful like this”

Your breath shuddered, your voice shaky as you spoke “You said a lot, what did you plan on showing me”

Bucky smirked, grabbing your hand in his, guiding it down to the waistband of your panties. “This okay?” Again, your heart skipped a beat. He never overstepped, always making sure you gave him consent before going further. You nodded, arousal already soaking through.

Keeping your hand in his, he pushed down till your fingers were between your soaked folds. Gathering the slick, he moved your hands up to touch your clit, his own fingers on top guiding yours to move in gentle circles. You whimpered, biting your lips holding back the moans that wanted to slip out.

“Just like that baby, rub your clit like that for me”. Bucky removed his hand, letting you continue.

“Apply a little more pressure baby” Bucky could see you needed more, your hand desperately trying to move, your panties restricting your movements. “Can I take these off” Bucky’s hand moved to the waistband of your panties. You nodded, lifting your hips up so Bucky could slide them down your legs. You had already come this far but you felt exposed with nothing covering your lower half, suddenly pressing your legs together so Bucky wouldn’t see you.

“Don’t baby, you’re so beautiful,” Bucky rubbed the sides of your thighs, as his hands slowly slipped in between, guiding you to open them. “Spread your legs for me baby, look at how pretty your pussy looks” You almost felt light headed at the sight you saw in the mirror. Your lower half was on full display; Bucky was looking right at you from the reflection. His fingers started to play in between your folds to smear your arousal around. He took your hands back in his, bringing your middle and ring finger to gather the slick that had pooled around you.

“Push one finger in baby”

You paused, having never done that before. Bucky sensed your hesitation as he felt your body tense up. His lips were right by your ears “Here princess, it’s okay” He took your hand again, instantly feeling you relax. You let him guide your finger, pushing it in and out until you found a pace you felt comfortable with. Bucky was losing his mind seeing you like this. He wasn’t sure what aroused him more, the way you looked in the mirror draped across him, the fact that you were doing all this while sitting in his lap or the fact that you trusted him to be so vulnerable with him.

You started to get lost in your thoughts, forgetting Bucky was even there. You whimpered, your finger moving in and out of you as you closed your eyes, imagining Bucky ravaging you on the floor of your bedroom. Bare, clothes torn off, his cock wrecking you for anyone else. He saw the way your eyes started rolling back getting lost in the pleasure of your fingers.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about” Bucky groaned, his mind going foggy. He really did just want to help you get off, but a selfish side of him wanted to ravish you. He wanted to know how filthy you could get, to hear every single dirty thought you had in your head.

Still deeply lost in your thoughts, his name fell from your lips. He shifted, feeling his cock stiffen, nearly cumming on the spot. You could feel your climax building, unconsciously grinding your hips in a tandem against Bucky’s hardening length. “Are you thinking about me?”

You weakly nodded. His breath hitched in his throat when you threw your head back onto his shoulder, your breaths getting heavier. Your chest was rising and falling, nipples poking through the thin material of your t-shirt. “Need more Bucky” You moaned as you grabbed his metal hand to your core, hissing as his cool fingers started playing with your swollen desperate clit. You guided his other hand up your shirt to play with your tits. “OH fuck!” Your hips bucked up, trying to press against his hands, needing more, you were desperate chasing your release. “Please Bucky, more, please” You grew more whiny and needy, guiding your hand on top of his, till his fingers reached your sopping hole, already dripping onto the sheets. “Fuck baby you’re so wet” Bucky whimpered, feeling his heart racing. You were the most beautiful sight he had ever laid his eyes on and you were spread out on him begging for more. He must be dreaming, God he didn’t want to ever wake up. “You sure baby?” “Please daddy” The name slipped out without a second thought, it drove Bucky feral. Without warning he plunged two fingers into you, pushing them in and out while his thumb pressed down onto your clit.

“M’ gonna cum” You whined, your hips grinding onto his hand, and pressing back onto his throbbing length. Your movements caused Bucky to grip your hips to keep you in place. “This is about you baby, if you keep moving on me like that, I’m not going to be able to control myself, you gotta stop baby” He couldn’t take it anymore, his cock was leaking with arousal, he so badly needed you. You pressed back into him wanting to tease him more. “Touch yourself daddy” The blue in Buckys eyes were nonexistent. His eyes were dark, filled with lust with what you had just said. He pushed you off, causing you to fall forward. You turned around to lay back and propped yourself up on one arm on the opposite side of the bed while Bucky threw off his sweats. His grey boxers had a dark patch from all the precum that had you caused. He was huge, his cock straining against the fabric of his boxers. He tugged them own letting his cock spring free, hitting his abdomen. He sat up against the head board again, nearly drooling as he watching you lying down across from him. Your eyes were heavy with lust.

“Show me baby, touch yourself the way daddy taught you” Bucky tugged at his length slowly, wanting this moment to last forever. To have you like this, so bare and vulnerable, he was struggling not to cum on the spot. Fisting his cock while his metal hand gripped onto the headboard, sweat beaded at his forehead as his thumb swept over the tip of his leaking cock acting as lube.

You felt like you were floating on air. Watching Bucky touch himself pushed you over the edge, your climax approaching hard and fast. You let your fingers gather the slick that was soaking the sheets, rubbing your clit in circles “Bucky, m’gonna cum baby”

Bucky wanted to capture every single curve and dip of your body. Every single movement as you moaned and arched off the bed. He couldn’t believe he got to see you like this. Your hips rose from the bed, legs squirming and you continued to press down onto your clit to prolong your building orgasm for as long as you could. Your moans softened to whimpers as your body continued to convulse, desperately trying to hold off so you could watch him for longer.

“Come here baby” Bucky grabbed your ankles so you could be closer to him. Your thighs were on top of his, your core close enough to grind on his length. This had to have been the horniest he had ever been, he had stopped touching himself multiple times because he knew he wouldn’t last long. Your fingers were lazily playing with your clit, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you tried to silence your screams. Bucky reached forward to pull you up. His hands played at the bottom of your shirt as he looked at your for permission. As soon as you nodded, he ripped it off, throwing it across the room. You lay back down across from him. “Fuck daddy, so close, need to cum baby please” your jaw hung slack as you watched Bucky pick up the pace on his cock. A slow dribble continued to pour from the tip as he started to chase his high. “God baby, you look so fucking beautiful like this, keep doing exactly that, fuck y/n, go faster” Your fingers were rubbing frantic circles on your swollen clit, teetering on the edge of your orgasm. Your thighs quivered on top of his. “Need to cum with you doll, holy fuck I’m gonna cum” Bucky threw his head back, straining against the headboard. His metal hand came down to grip onto your thigh, needing to find a way to ground himself.

“M’ gonna fucking cum y/n, can’t hold it, let go baby, please, cum with me y/n” “OH FUCK DADDY” You could feel your walls flutter and convulse, arousal gushing out of you. You moved slightly forward so your clit could press firmly against Buckys balls, moving your hips lightly to grind against him. You felt waves and waves of endless pleasure and euphoria wash over you. Tears spilled onto your cheeks as you continued to cry out for him, scratching the sides of his legs. “Baby I’m gonna cum, fuck gonna cum so fucking hard for you babydoll, God I want to watch you like this all day. Fuck I’m cumming, m’ cumming, FUCK y/n!” Bucky sped up his pace, fisting his cock, focused on the swollen and sensitive tip. He could feel his balls heavy with cum, eyes were squeezed shut. His head was thrown back as endless ropes of cum spilt onto his abs and chest. His breaths grew heavy as he continued to lazily stroke his cock wanting to make the moment last forever. You fell limp onto the bed, floating in a post climax haze. Bucky sat up, gently pulling you up so he could tuck you under the sheets beside him. “Fuck you’re so beautiful when you cum”

Your haze started to fade as you registered Bucky’s words, burying your face into the crook of his neck. He cupped your cheek, brining your face up to look at him. “I’m serious. You’re so gorgeous doll” His gaze caused your face to heat up, as you shook your head, biting your lip looking away from him.

“I’m not-

Bucky stopped you, grabbing your face in his hands making you look at him.

“I meant it when I said you’re beautiful. Not just here like this. Always y/n”

You were back to your flustered state, unsure of what to say. “Thank you..for this..uh, showing me” He gave you the best orgasm of your life and he had hardly touched you. Bucky smirked pulling you close to him, his lips brushing yours.

“I want to show you so many things baby”

You giggled, feeling a wave of sleep wash over you. You yawned, relaxing in his hold, letting sleep take over.

“Sleep princess, you need it”

This was just the beginning.

#writingforbella #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barns imagine #Bucky Barnes #marvel #marvel smut #avengers smut #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky barnes fluff #fluff #marvel fanfiction #bucky #avenger

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writingoddess1125 · 6 months

Note

hiii, could you do a Sanji x reader in which the reader has an eating disorder and Sanji's food is the only one that the reader eats and when Sanji discovers this he tries to take more care of the reader's diet?

(I love your writing, it's so good)

So this does hit very close to home for me and it both made me feel good and cry while writing this.

I did twist this a bit as well, but I hope it's still okay!

I also made this GN since this can happen to Anyone.

Warmth

⚠️Warning: ⚠️ Mention of ED, issues with food and body issues.

Please support me in Ko-Fi

"It's called Shio Ramen, it's a lighter form of ramen made with a much gentler broth. It's not as heavy as normal ramen and doesn't have as much oil" He said calmly, watching your eyes look over it.

You should have realized he had been watching you- from the very beginning you should have known that the Nosey Chef would catch onto you sooner rather then later.

You had always loved food, but you felt like it just.. didn't love you in return. Especially when it was used as a weapon by your loved ones.

From people pushing that 'You're just picky' or 'Just wanting to look a certain way' since you were young at your... aversions. It all starting with your family and the lack of control you felt over your life... it had been a way to control something- even if it was as small as food and how you wanted to look physically.

You had been on the brink of self destruction when the Strawhats arrived on your island home, of course their swirling of chaos following them-

Needing a Barber for their crew, so you jumped at the opportunity to join them; running away from the shackles of your home and the onces youd once called your family to new adventure and freedom.

However some shackles still remained..

It had some weeks, close to a month on board the Strawhat Ship before you even ate Sanji's food, passing your plate to Liffy who would eat it up or not showing up to meals at all-.

If you did he'd often making you bowls which you would take single spoonfuls of before not taking more- eating only when you were sure no one was around and what you had been used to, if you decided at all.

But as time passed, you did gradually eat more of his cooking- trusting him more as you wouldn't skin meal times or take single bites anymore, while it tasted good- you always felt that anxiety rise up eventually..

You should have known he would have seen this all.. noticed your actions and ways. Planning his next move-

Which took place on a sleepy late afternoon.

Sitting in your quarters you were trying to read a book Nami had let you borrow, but your mind just kept drifting off in a daze as you watched the sea pass you by- as well as the memories of the past invading and poking your mind.

A soft knock snapping you from your whirlpool of thoughts as you look up to see Sanji, calmly staring at you. His coat off and only in a button-down, his nice pants and freshly polished shoes a unlit cigarette placed perfectly on his lip as he smiled softly at you.

"Hey (Y/N)- follow me for a sec?" He asked, you of course nodding as you rose and followed behind your peer down the corner- being lead right to the kitchens.

Anxiety hitting your chest then as he motioned for you to seat on one of the island benches in the kitchen.

Sitting down you nervously look at the chef as he calmly walked around to the stoves on the otherside of the island countertop.

You assuming he was going to scold you for not eating or put you on blast...

"How do you like it on the ship so far?" He asked innocently as he began to grab a pot. There ge had you watch him as he cooked- You watched the ingredients he picked, how he washed his hands with every step asking what things were to your taste which he cleverly hid in casualy conversation...

It was actually fun to watch, the care and time he put into cooking and talking to you- Truthfully it had actually started to look delicious and smell good as well as you watched him pour a light broth over Fluffy noodles you'd watch him make by hand.

Not a word had to be said after that, Instead he sat next to you calmly with his own bowl and began to silently eat. Tears welling in your eyes as you grabbed the spoon and took a sip of the hot broth- Warmth filling your stomach and chest- finally that cold anxiety started to ease away as the soft flavors of the warm Shio Ramen filled your senses.. like a blanket beging placed over your shoulders... it was just what you needed... what you'd always needed.

"You want to try some?" He asked, getting a hesitant nod from you. He smiled softly, setting the already prepared bowl infront of you before making his own.

Sanji glanced at you and held out his handkerchief to you, At first confused before realizing salty tears were rolling down your cheeks. Accepting the gift you cleaned up your face and set back into eating, smiling softly to yourself as you did so.

It finally felt like... someone cared- And what more could you ask for?

Maybe a second helping?..

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #op sanji #sanji x reader #one piece sanji #black leg sanji #sanji

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violettduchess · 1 month

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A/N: This is my gift for the wonderful @claviscollections as part of the @flash-exchange💜

Clavis x Reader, my prompt was "Affection 101". Here are eight little ways I think Clavis would show his dearest one affection.

WC: exactly 700

You’re standing in front of the floor-length mirror, taking a moment to admire the amethyst necklace Clavis gave you for your first anniversary. It’s breathtaking. It’s delicate. It’s….a pain in the arse to get on. You fumble, brows knitting with ever-growing annoyance as you try to close the clasp at your neck. And then he’s there, gently admonishing you, dear one, for not calling him to help you with such a tricky task. His gaze holds yours in the mirror as he effortlessly closes it, his fingers trailing away from the thin chain to rest on your shoulders. A soft kiss at the base of your neck is his final touch before stepping away.

Yves has really outdone himself. The table is set with so many delicious confections, you hardly know where to look. Clavis is engaged in telling a story, entertaining the others, his words winding through the air like music notes. You carefully select a golden puff pastry filled with rich pink cream and……ahhh you sigh with pure delight as the taste of sweet strawberries hits your tongue. You’re contemplating taking another when Clavis, without missing a beat, reaches for one of the delightful cream puffs and places it on your plate.

You leave your meeting with the king, heading to your office while perusing the long list of books he has asked you to procure for the royal library. When you get to your desk, you stop. Waiting for you is a warm cup of rose tea and a decorative sprig of lavender. Setting down your notebook, you pick up the note that lays beside the tea cup, written in the loopy handwriting you’ve become fluent in: After a meeting with him, my dear wife deserves a treat from her devoted husband.

You’re heading down the staircase, pulling your cloak around your shoulders as you silently review your market shopping list. Clavis turns the corner, in conversation with Cyran. When your eyes meet, he breaks into a sunny smile, his eyes practically glowing at the unexpected encounter. “Just a moment, Cyran, I must greet my wife in the manner she deserves.” And instantly you’re in his arms and he’s kissing you in a way that leaves you utterly breathless. “And as this is also goodbye…” Another kiss as his arm supports your back, his hand tenderly cradles the back of your head. You’re released with a glowing smile before he continues up the stairs, motioning for a beleaguered Cyran to hurry up and follow him.

The meeting is running oh so long as the visiting nobles make sure to use their audience with the king to the fullest. Your hand aches from writing, trying to capture all the essentials of what is said. When it’s finally over, Clavis instantly reaches for you, taking your hand in his and gently but firmly begins massaging your palm, the sore spaces between your fingers, his expert touch trailing down to your wrist. The pain ebbs away under his care and he smiles at your sigh of relief.

You step out of the steaming rose-scented bath and into the oversized, fluffy towel Clavis is holding for you. He wraps it lovingly around your body and pulls you close, kissing the tip of your nose. “Mine,” he murmurs with a grin. “All mine.”

You stare down at the plate of food provided by your hosts. It’s fish. The kind you really, really can’t stomach eating. Politeness has you taking a small bite, forcing it down. A shudder rolls through you from your protesting stomach. And then in one fluid movement, your plate is now in front of Clavis and his plate, minus the fish but with all the salad, is now yours.

The sun takes a bow, leaving the stage to evening. A long day has your head falling into your soft pillow, heavy with exhaustion. A moment later, you’re being pulled back against Clavis as he curls himself around you. His arm protectively encircles you, his lips press a kiss to the back of your neck. “Good night, beautiful wife of mine. May you sleep well and dream of me.” You smile softly because you always do.

Tagging: @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage @redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @olivermorningstar @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @ikesimpleton @namine-somebodies-nobody @greatstarlightstarfish @cellophanediamond @whatever-fanfics @justpeachyteastea @chirp-a-chirp @got7igot7family @kookie-my-little-sunshine @mastering-procrastinating @portrait-ninja @queen-dahlia @themysticalbeing @nightghoul381 @whitelittlebunny @chi-the-idiot @bubblexly

#ikemen series #ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri clavis #clavis lelouch #ikemen clavis #ikemen flash exchange #ikemen fanfiction #ikemen fanfic #otome fanfiction #violettwrites

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miasmaghoul · 6 months

Note

*ahem* edelweisss, edelweisss . . .

Swiss leans in the doorway to the common room, arms crossed over his chest, tail idly swishing behind him. He's been here for a few minutes now, left his book dog-eared on his bed with the intent of grabbing a snack. He'd found the kitchen occupied, though, and the smile he wears is exclusively thanks to the sight before him.

The kitchen is a mess; the small island is occupied by an ancient stand mixer and a few dirty bowls, while the counter lies covered in open containers, half-empty ingredient bags and not-small pile of used measuring spoons. The scent of sugar, citrus and something floral hangs heavy in the air, and Swiss can feel the heat of the oven from across the room.

At the center of the mess, though, lies what holds Swiss' attention.

Mountain's humming, swaying in front of the stove along with the album playing on the common room turntable. Something jazzy Swiss recognizes but can't name off the top of his head. Whatever it is, Mountain is clearly lost in it while he rather vigorously stirs something Swiss can't see. What he can see is the smattering of floury handprints covering Mountain's jeans, and the streak of something pale yellow that's somehow ended up in his hair. Swiss can only imagine how much worse Mountain's front must be, but there's one more detail that keeps him from wondering too hard.

The few delicate white flowers that have made their home at the base of Mountian's antlers have Swiss' eyes crinkling. He'd know those pale petals anywhere.

Swiss pushes off the doorframe and drags his feet just loud enough to announce himself. Sneaking up on Mountain in the kitchen doesn't usually end well. He sees the other ghoul's ear flick, sees him pause in stirring, and Swiss feels safe to speak.

"Thinkin' about me, grasshopper?"

Mountain peers at his over his shoulder, raises an eyebrow. Swiss gestures at his head as he strolls into he room, and Mountain rolls his eyes as though he can see his own antlers. He makes a chuffing sound and resumes his mixing, but Swiss doesn't miss his little smirk.

"Might be," he replies with a half shrug. "It's happened once or twice, against my better judgement."

Swiss laughs as he hops up onto one of the bar stools at the island, one leg tucked up under himself. He rests his elbow on one of the few clean spots by the mixer - the remnants of whatever Mountain has in his hair sits in the bowl closest to him, so Swiss picks it up and gives it a sniff.

"What's on the menu today, peaches?" Swiss swipes a fingers through a blob on the side of the bowl. Gives it a cursory sniff.

"A lemon and lavender cake," Mountain supplies, just in time for Swiss to pop his finger into his mouth and find out for himself.

The batter is delicious, sweet and tart and wonderfully smooth. Delightful on all counts. Swiss isn't surprised; Mountain is as good a cook as he is a messy one, and judging by the splotch of egg yolk Swiss can see on the ceiling this has been particularly inspired session.

"Fancy," he says, gathering another bit of batter. "If you need someone to taste when it's baked, my mouth ain't busy."

Mountain snorts, and together they say,

"For now."

Swiss playfully tosses a dirty tea towel at his back, and Mountain catches it without even looking. Tucks one corner into his pocket while his tail meanders towards the fridge.

"Already baked," he says, nodding towards the appliance while his tail tugs it open. The middle shelf holds three identical rounds of cake, the loveliest shade of yellow speckled with what must be flecks of lavender. "You'll have to wait for the finished product, I already trimmed them down. For quality control. You know how it is."

Swiss nods sagely. He slides from his stool and wanders over to the stove, humming when Mountain's tail sways up to greet him, the tufted end caressing his jaw. Swiss leans against the counter, and now he can see what Mountain is working on.

"What's, uh," he waves at the odd arrangement on the stove - a pan beneath what appears to be the stand mixer's bowl, which must contain whatever Mountain is tirelessly stirring. "What's this all for, then?"

"Frosting," Mountain tells him, lifting what turns out to be a whisk. "Eventually."

Something thick and gooey drips from the whisk and immediately gives Swiss several indecent thoughts.

"Don't say it looks like cum," Mountain says before Swiss can so much as open his mouth.

"Wasn't gonna," Swiss lies, tongue poking out between his fangs. Mountain gives him a look. "I wasn't!" Swiss insists, pushing away from the counter. He slips behind Mountain instead, wraps his arms around the taller ghoul's waist. Swiss kisses the back of his shoulder. "But I was gonna ask if that was why you were thinkin' about me."

Mountain barks out a laugh.

"Gross," he complains, but his tail wraps around Swiss' calf all the same. "But you're actually half right." Swiss makes a questioning sound, and Mountain points a thumb behind them. "Look at the recipe."

Swiss will, eventually. He indulges in holding Mountain first, just for a moment. Presses his nose to his sweat-damp shirt and breathes in the the homey scent of warm earth and something herbal. It blends beautifully with the lemon and sugar surrounding them, makes him feel a little fuzzy around the edges. He gives Mountain a squeeze, and stands on his toes to kiss the back of his neck before he lets go; another soft, white blossom pops up behind Mountain's ear.

Mountain picks up humming again while Swiss hunts for the recipe he mentioned. He piles dishes as he searches, stacks bowls and gathers measuring spoons. He finds it after a minute, an index card stained with vanilla and sticky with egg.

"A-ha," he holds up the card triumphantly, a light dusting of flour raining down from it. "Let's see what got you growing me."

Swiss wipes the card on his pants, and recognizes its looping, cursive script as Cumulus' handwriting. Lemon lavender layer cake with -

"No fuckin' way," Swiss says through a laugh. He looks up to find Mountain watching him with a glimmer in his eye. "That's all it took?"

"Yep," Mountain sighs, turning back to the task at hand. "That's all."

Swiss stares at the back of his head for a beat, and then the goofiest smile cracks his face. He tosses the card to the counter and returns to his place at Mountain's back, wrapping him up just a little tighter this time.

"Lucifer, you're a sap," he teases, but they both know it's true. Swiss reaches up and plucks one of the flowers decorating Mountain's antlers, spins it between two fingers. "Not that I'm complaining about bein' on your mind."

"Neither am I, edelweiss," Mountain rumbles. He briefly abandons his dutiful whisking to turn and knock their horns together. "Neither am I."

Mountain ducks down just enough for Swiss to catch him is a leisurely kiss, one that tastes like summery sunshine, and then he's gone again. Leaves Swiss grinning dumbly at the back of his head while warmth trickles into his belly. He settles against the taller ghoul's back, and in no time at all the pair of them start to sway to the music as one.

"So," Swiss murmurs into his shirt after a long moment, "what's a Swiss meringue buttercream, anyway?"

#miasma's work #the band ghost ficlets #swiss ghoul #mountain ghoul #swiss/mountain #swiss x mountain #SURPRISE BITCH HAVE THE CAKE IDEA >:)#jk ilu crow <3

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melodygatesauthor · 9 months

Note

AHHH 2K IM SO HAPPY FOR U 🥳🥳

for the celebration: maybe a blurb about steven x yandere!reader 👀

Oh bitch you fucking KNOW I do

NSFW below the cut - non-con - somnophilia - voyeurism- breeding kink if you squint - I'm probably gonna get some haters for what I do to Steven in this so just settle down and remember that it's ff y'all - f!Reader

You're Steven's new neighbor, and it all starts when you run into him on the elevator heading up to your flat. He holds the door for you and you lose your shit. He's so handsome, he smells like old books and cedar, and he's such a mess you just want to know what he looks like writhing underneath you. Your body is shaking with excitement after meeting him for the first time. Holy fucking SHIT you need him.

So you bide your time, following him to work, keeping your distance so he doesn't know you're following him. You watch him picking the spinach from his wrap out of his teeth when he's walking home after talking with his street performer friend. You watch him go into his apartment, breaking your line of sight.

You can hear him from the laundry room jerking himself off and moaning pathetically. What a waste of his delicious cum when you know it's getting spilt into a tissue, just getting tossed aside when it could be inside of you.

When just listening isn't enough, you're staring wide-eyed into his window on the fire escape, watching him slide his palm over his erection. You're drooling on yourself while you plunge two fingers deep into your soaking cunt. You can see him just a little through the gap in his curtains, huffing and panting while he gets closer.

You're so tired of seeing him fuck himself when he could be fucking you.

So you wait until you know he's asleep and you sneak in through his window. You take a moment to take in his apartment, enjoying his scent and being surrounded by his belongings. Steven's a heavy sleeper, you learned this ages ago. So tying him up was easy.

When he finally wakes up, you're straddling him, gliding your dripping folds along his half-hard cock. You make sure to duct tape his mouth closed so his sounds will be muffled. You know Steven though, he would still be noisy as all hell.

He looks terrified at first, so you shush him and touch his cheek gently.

"Steven it's okay, it's me, your girlfriend."

You lean forward, kissing his cheek and wasting no time filling yourself with his fat cock. You groan and grunt, bouncing on top of him. You look at him, seeing his eyes roll back while you fuck him harder.

"Mm, feels good doesn't it Steven? I know just what you like, been watching you for a long time."

You move your hips in the same way you'd seen him move his hand. Slowly at first, but then faster and faster, and then slow again. You kiss his throat, hearing him crying a little. You chuckle, licking away his tears.

"You're the most precious thing Steven, can't stand the thought of anyone else having you, so you're mind now."

"This cock was made for me, it was made to fill me up, not letting you waste another drop of cum in a fucking tissue."

"I want you to pump that hot cum in my tight little pussy Steven, I wanna be so full it's flooding out of me."

"I don't take birth control you know? Not since I started following you. Gonna give you a fucking hockey team, gonna make you a daddy honey."

When Steven comes, he's breathing deeply, just as you'd seen him do before. He's panting, bucking his hips upward and slamming into you. It feels so good you nearly pass out from your own climax. When you come down from you high, you rip the tape from Steven's mouth.

"Oh god-oh god-oh god!" He's shouting. "You...you tied m-me up and-and-y-you...!"

"Steven, my sweet darling, are you really going to act like this isn't exactly what you wanted?" You kiss down his chest, and he moans, arching his body upward toward you.

"You precious whiny thing..."

Your first time together might've been a shock to him, but it doesn't take long for Steven to start seeing things your way...

Melody's 2k Celebration Masterlist

#steven grant #moon knight #steven grant drabble #Steven grant imagine #Steven grant smut #moon knight smut #moon knight x reader #moon knight drabble #moon knight imagine #melodys random thots #steven grant x reader #steven x reader #steven grant x you #moon knight x you #steven grant blurb #moon knight blurb

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goldengirlls · 2 years

Text

cherries n cream

pairings— best friend’s brother x reader

warnings — unprotected sex, degradation, dumbification, spit kink, exhibitionist, cum eating, cum play and some filth!!

summary— you’ve never looked sweeter

authors note— my favorite chris evans character

main masterlist | c. evans masterlist

Everything’s glossy. The words engraved on the spine of the books, the lights and instead of one couch there were three.

The only two senses you had at the moment — touch and hearing.

Ransoms body against yours. And his lips singing the songs of passion, praise and filth.

“Shh, baby,” Ransom grunts in your ear, “Don’t want everyone hearing what’a whore ya are for daddy’s cock.” Filth dripping from every word. His grip on you was permanent.

Every mewl and whine Ransom would pull from you would only drive his need into you harder.

Cock rutting against your spongey spot earning whimper after whimper from you. His girth stretching you and filling you perfectly. Your pussy was made for him, you were made for him.

All it took was a glance at your delicious white sheer panties with the cherry on the front and the red cherries in your mouth for him to demand you meet him in the library.

“Such a dumb girl,” his death like grip on your hip and other wrapped around you— pinching your clit, “always messy and needy for me aren’t you?” Ransom’s voice spoke against your marked neck. “Always need daddy’s cock.”

You whine in response as he picks up his speed, bottoming out every time.

“Shown me your little panties with my pussy— for anyone too see? Such’a bad girl,” The bulbous tip angry and leaking with pre cum inside your swollen and used walls, “This pussy is mine. Understand? No one see’s but me.”

Tears blurred your vision the harder he fucked into you, your thoughts getting lost in translation and only forming sounds and an understanding to his words.

So you nodded and squeezed his forearm, “M’yes daddy, only yours.” The mixture of your tears, spit and his salvia coating your face, when he demanded your mouth open mere seconds ago. His lips meeting your lips for a wet and messy kiss.

“Good girl, ‘m gonna fill this stupid little pussy full of me and watch you walk around everyone tonight, knowing I filled ya her up.” His hips slamming into you and smirking through his words.

The harder he slammed into you, the tighter you clenched.

Ransoms’s fingers shoving themselves into your mouth and bring them to your nipples— twisting and pinching them, needing you to make a mess.

“Feel ya squeezin me cherry— does daddy’s dumb baby need to cum after being such a whore? Need my cum in that puffy pussy?”

His balls tightening with the need to fill you full of him. Ransom moaning at the thought of sitting at the dinner table, his fingers dancing with your pretty puffy pussy and then dipping them into you and feeling yours and his cum— a foot from his little sister, your best friend.

“Need’a cum daddy,” It’s pathetically sinful and music to his ears. “ ‘M sorry daddy, I’ll be’a goo’girl.” Mumbling incoherently and desperately.

“Yeah? Feel me right there?” Pressing his hand on where his cock was in your stomach, “I’m gonna make a mess all of your pretty walls cherry, gonna walk around with me leakin’ outta ya — so I can have dessert with my dinner.” He groans out.

“You can cum for me baby— been such a good girl baby.” His balls heavy and happy with the sounds of your moans as your body presses against his coating his cock— squeezing and fluttering around it, “Atta girl, make a mess on me, good girl.”

Ransom’s orgasm ripping through him as his cum spurts through you, filling you full— glazing his second favorite hole.

A minute later, he pulls out springing free of his favorite hug and dropping to his knees to see the mess that had been created.

A blissful daze as his eyes filled with pride, as he watched the cum slowly run down your thighs. Ransoms tongue gliding against the cum— his eyes rolling to the back of his head, “Taste like Cherry’s.” Muttering against you as his fingers shove the cum back into you— asking you to keep it safe for dinner.

taglist: @mackenzielovee @r0und3bitch @glitterandsparklessss @onmykneesforrafe

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crisiscutie · 11 months

Note

Fluffy Sephiroth BUT the darling actually decide to offer her milk to him (kinda suspecting about his milk kink bit not sure yet)

Oh, the darling is gonna make Sephiroth use his words, finally? Enjoy a semi-silly, fluffy entry in the Crisis Cutie Collection.

Pairing: AFAB Darling/C.C Sephiroth (Pre-Nibelheim) Domestic AU

Word Count: 922

Content Warnings: NSFW (no actual sex but heavy themes present), Milk Kink, Pregnancy Kink.

"Sephiroth?"

The sound of your voice sent his gaze towards the doorway. He saw you there, one hand resting on the curve of your large, swollen breasts. You kept your other hand hidden behind your back while you stared at him with a look of innocence and confusion. Sephiroth was able to admire your swollen, heavily pregnant belly, and the lovely stretch marks that came with it, thanks to the see-through maternity top you were wearing. His breath was caught in his throat as he observed more of your pregnant body, amazed that it was his own seed that had caused such an incredible transformation.

As your first pregnancy drew to a close, his heart was a swirl of anticipation and fear, eagerly awaiting the arrival of your baby, yet dreading the possibility of losing you like he had with his mother… He shuddered, shaking the painful thought away before his eyes settled back on the maternity book, his face growing warm. You waddled closer, and sat down beside him, intently studying the maternity book that he was reading and taking note of the new hairstyle he had, a long ponytail with his signature bangs intact.

"I love the new hairstyle... And you're reading that section, again?" You asked Sephiroth, tilting your head at him.

Sephiroth quickly averted his gaze, his ears burning with shame. Of course, you happened to catch him re-reading the breast milk section of his maternity book, at this time... He kept his eyes averted, determined not to let you see the pink flush on his cheeks. You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously.

"…I noticed your surplus milk was causing you discomfort. I was reading this section to find a remedy for your pain..." He said, his eyes now boring into yours with newfound assurance. It was remarkable how he could still channel his cool and professional demeanor, even after having abandoned SOLDIER for almost a year.

You felt your cheeks heat up as a tiny smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. Sephiroth always goes out of his way to make sure you're happy. Despite his sometimes suffocating protectiveness during your pregnancy, you knew that he only had your best interests at heart. You both left your old lives behind, so he was desperate to keep you and your unborn child safe and near him. And even though life on the run has taken a toll on the both of you, his presence always brought light to your day. You had no doubt that your decision to spend the rest of your life with him was the right choice, and you could tell that he felt the same way. With his unwavering will and your shared strength, the two of you discovered a remote village, far beyond Shinra's grasp, and picked out a cozy home to raise your unborn child in.

"Thank you, my love. I have some delicious, fresh milk here... Would you like some?" You whispered, biting your lower lip. An intense, scarlet hue flooded your face. If it turned out your suspicions about him were unfounded, you'd be filled with embarrassment. You lifted a small, delicate glass jar that was adorned with a pretty, purple ribbon. The sight of the creamy white breast milk stored in the jar immediately drew Sephiroth's attention. He then nearly gasped to the sight of the creamy white milk sloshing around the jar as you slightly shook it, and his arousal grew stronger as he witnessed you lay your free hand gently on your pregnant, swollen belly.

"Of course, anything for you." Sephiroth whispered, delicately accepted the elegant glass jar of milk from you, making sure to handle it with the utmost care. Anxiety coursed through your veins as you watched him slowly and cautiously take the lid off the glass jar. Just as the initial drop of the velvety, sweet and creamy breast milk touched Sephiroth's taste buds, it was like he was in a state of bliss; The breast milk had a sweet flavor, but not too overpowering for him. As he tasted more of the milk, he enjoyed the creamy, luxurious texture that rolled across his tongue. To savor something he'd never got a chance to have was a blessing. All thanks to you, his darling. With a satisfied sigh, he savored the last few drops of your sweet milk, and his heart soared with arousal and delight. He tried to drink more of the breast milk but was met with the emptiness of the jar, which prompted him to hang his head in despair.

"Sephiroth? D-did you like it?" You murmured. You didn't know what to make of his previous actions. But when his head came up, he gazed hungrily at your full, swollen breasts, like a predator sizing up its next meal. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as your suspicions that he had an affinity for your milk had been confirmed.

"Yes... Thank you, my beloved wife..."He uttered his words in a tranquil yet almost sultry manner. He still yearns for more of your breast milk to satisfy him. Yes, he already devoured your milk from the glass jar, but could the milk from your breasts now fill the void that he has?

maternity. Alternative Title: Sephiroth's Darling Is Mastering The Art Of Being A Cock Tease

This fic is a sequel to the first set of the Domestic AU headcanons. Also, Sephy is definitely wearing this ponytail, you can't tell me otherwise.

Prequel fic of Fluffy Sephy proposing to the darling is in the works. 😊

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fiddleabout · 11 months

Text

chef au sneak peak part deux

“One of the guests,” he says. “She asked to see you, said that she knows you.”

Beatrice blinks at him owlishly. “Pardon?”

Ashish shrugs, looking stricken. “The 10:30 at table seven,” he says, as if that explains anything.

“Do you have a name?” Beatrice fights the urge to pinch at the bridge of her nose to ward off the way frustration is building in her as much as confusion is. Ava takes her frustration in stride these days, had done so even before they became-- whatever they are now, heated and physical and entwined in each other’s lives to a truly excessive degree that Beatrice cannot find it in herself to worry about-- but half of the staff crumple in the face of it.

“Oh,” Ashish says, suddenly fumbling for his notepad. Beatrice swallows the sigh she wants to let out, because there’s no possible way that he actually wrote the name on a reservation down on his notepad. “Um--”

“Don’t worry about it,” Beatrice says, as kindly as she can after watching him flip through the pad frantically. “I’ll take a look. Thank you.”

Ashish shoves the notepad back into his apron pocket, squeaks out something shrill and unintelligible, and immediately flees the vicinity. Beatrice watches him go, letting out a heavy sigh.

“What was that?” Chanel appears at her elbow, a decanted bottle of wine in one hand and a chef’s knife in the other, one eyebrow flicked upwards.

“I have no idea.” Beatrice sighs again. “He said table seven knows me.”

Chanel’s eyebrow flicks up higher. “Expecting someone?”

She doesn’t wait for Beatrice to answer, shoving the wine into Beatrice’s hand and blindly handing the knife to Ava, who barely blinks at the interruption as she tastes one of the sauces and then yells for the saucier. Beatrice watches, frozen, as Chanel weaves her way through the kitchen and pokes her head out the door into the main restaurant for a long moment and then turns back to face her.

“Fun-sized bag of springs, tall smokeshow with spectacular cheekbones?”

“You’re one to talk,” Michelle says as she bustles past Chanel, flicking the towel over her shoulder towards Chanel’s cheekbones on her way over to Ava.

Camila and Lilith. Lilith is here, at their restaurant, with her pastry chef, on a Thursday when her own is surely booked solid. She left her own restaurant to come here.

“Shit,” Beatrice mutters. She tries to swallow the inexplicable panic rising in her chest-- Lilith is her best friend, there’s no reason she should be panicking at seeing her-- and glances at the clock. It’s half past eleven and the restaurant is still almost completely full, an uncharacteristically busy Wednesday; this is the first break Beatrice has had since the dinner rush started.

“You good?” Ava appears at Beatrice’s elbow, one eyebrow raised and a hand holding out a spoon towards Beatrice’s mouth. “Here, taste this.”

Beatrice takes the spoon blindly. It’s muhammara, delicious and one of her favorites but also very much not on the menu for the night, and the discomfort in her chest pivots immediately.

“Why--”

“It’s your favorite, and we had way too many walnuts.” Ava shrugs, smiles, shoves the bowl of muhammara and piece of pita into Beatrice’s hands. “Also, you didn’t eat before the dinner rush because we--”

“Thank you,” Beatrice hurries out, cutting Ava off before she can go into lurid detail about how they’d both forgotten to eat before it got busy because they were otherwise occupied by Ava bending Beatrice over her desk in her tiny office. “But--”

“It took like five minutes,” Ava says with another shrug, intentionally casual in spite of the faint flush dusting over her cheeks and the fact that they both know that she’s lying.

The twist of panic in Beatrice’s chest vanishes abruptly, because Ava made her muhammara in the middle of a busy night just so she would eat. She wants to kiss her, wants to drag her back into her office and pick up where they left off when they were busy skipping the lull before the dinner rush; instead, all she can do is clutch the food Ava offered her and stare at her with wonder like she so often does, irrevocably and overwhelmingly charmed.

“Thank you,” Beatrice says softly.

“If you two are quite done.” Chanel’s reclaimed her knife from where she’d handed it off to Ava and points at Ava and then Beatrice with it. “Someone is asking for Beatrice outside.”

“What?” Ava’s eyebrows crease.

“Lilith is here,” Beatrice sighs out. She busies herself with swiping a corner of the pita through the muhammara and shoving it into her mouth, as much to buy time as to deal with the fact that she’s realized suddenly that she is, in fact, starving.

“Lilith?” Ava says, straightening up as her eyes widen.

“Wait,” Chanel says. “Do you mean Lilith as in the executive chef at Per Se?”

“I mean Lilith, Beatrice’s best friend,” Ava says, an almost indecipherable tinge of panic in her voice.

“Who is also the chef at Per Se, yes,” Beatrice says heavily.

“Well, shit,” Chanel says. She points at Beatrice with the knife again. Six months ago, it would have irritated Beatrice, the casual way Chanel is pointing an incredibly sharp knife at her; now, she’s used to it, the way that Ava and Chanel both are prone to using knives as laser pointers. “Is she here to shoot Ava?”

“Hey!”

“Potentially,” Beatrice says, sighing. They haven’t told Chanel, not really, but she’s smart and obnoxiously perceptive, so it’s hardly surprising that she immediately assumes that Beatrice’s best friend is here to threaten her girlfriend with an early exit and a shallow grave.

“Hey!” Ava says again. “I could hold my own, you never know.”

“You can’t,” Beatrice says in unison with Chanel. Ava glares at her, her fake indignation so endearing that Beatrice nearly gives up on trying to be professional when they’re in front of the staff, nearly kisses her. Instead, she takes another bite of the muhammara, inelegant and oversized, before handing it back to Ava so she can dig her phone out of her pocket to text Lilith.

I can’t leave right now. We’re swamped.

A response pops up immediately. Chickenshit, which means Lilith is in a good mood. I can wait until you close up for the night. And then: Don’t worry, we’ll tip your tiny little zoomer waiter heavy.

#posting this bc i made a deal (a bribe)#with the devil (tumblr user piratekane)#and im holding up my end of the bargain #writing tag #warrior nun #avatrice #ava silva #sister beatrice #no i do not know when the chapter will be done please do not ask

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wanderlustqueen-writes · 8 months

Text

Reckless Behavior - Part 2

Pairing: Levi Ackerman/Hange Zoë (Attack on Titan) Rating: Explicit. MDNI Warnings: Nipple play. Vaginal Fingering. Oral Sex. Unprotected Sex. Additional tags: She/Her pronouns for Hange Zoë on this one. Wordcount: 3k Read part one here >>This is smut. Minors please do not interact<<

Levi was a skilled man, but right now he was struggling with the small sphere that refused to leave the confines of Hange’s shirt. Of course, the button was just a scapegoat, the real culprits being his hands, which trembled in anticipation as they revealed new inches of her skin.

It was conflicting. His mind wanted to savor this moment, to commit every gaze, sound, and touch to his memory. Levi wanted to hold time in his hands, unroll it like a ball of yarn so that each moment would last forever and tomorrow would always be one night away. His body, on the other hand, was taken with desire. The rampant beast that for long Levi had managed to stifle with layers upon layers of ‘It's never gonna happen’ was now thrashing fiercely inside him, threatening to burst its prison of flesh and devour the Squad Leader right then and there.

Levi let his forehead fall to her shoulder, overwhelmed by the dispute between the expectations he had built in his mind and the reality that his own flesh was imposing on him. The captain inhaled deeply, letting the smell of oily hair and old books wash over him.

The aroma had inhabited the captain’s desires for months now. It was difficult for Levi to focus on the Senior Officers’ meetings sometimes, especially after Hange picked up the habit of sitting next to him. A couple of minutes in and Levi's mind would be invaded by the image of himself buried in the crook of her neck. Erwin’s voice would fade in the distance as her panting and soft whimpers echoed in the corners of his mind. Levi thought, in those moments, what he wouldn’t give to know how it would feel to drown in Hange, what she’d look like while he was pounding into her, what she would sound like as she was coming around him.

His heart picked up the pace, fueled by the fresh memory of the delicious sounds Hange had been making for him so far.

He would find all of that out today.

As the thought occurred to him, the final button was undone.

Time slowed down as Levi took in the scene before him. Both sides of Hange’s shirt opened like a curtain revealing the skin of her neck, reddened in the places his tongue and teeth had explored just moments ago, some purplish spots proving his suctions weren’t as soft as he had believed them to be. She looked so fucked out already. Messed-up hair. Flushed cheeks. Red, swollen lips. Hange was the one against the wall, but her eyes were that of a predator that cornered its prey.

Her chest heaved up and down, and Levi was hypnotized by her breasts. Silky skin, lighter than her usual complexion, contrasted with the dark brown areolas that sat atop it. His mouth watered at the tempting sight. Even though they weren’t very big, Hange’s tits looked plump and heavy, like ripe fruits ready to be tasted.

Levi wet his lips, eyes glued to her hardened nipples, “Can I-”

“Yeah” She breathed out through a smile, and when his gaze lifted to meet hers, her grin faltered into a pitiful desperate expression “Please, Levi.”

A shiver ran across his skin, raising every hair on his body and making his cock twitch inside his underwear. He dove back into her, hands kneading at each of her breasts, lips locked around the velvety skin of one of the brown nubs. Hange’s fingers grabbed at his hair and her moans were music to his ears. Levi sucked thoroughly on her nipple, then let his tongue swirl around the flesh, before pulling on it with his teeth, which elicited a throaty “fuck” from her. He replaced his mouth with his fingers, moving his lips to the other side to do the same thing.

Levi wanted to protest when Hange let go of the firm grip she had on his locks, but the captain had a mouthful at the moment. Then, she started fidgeting a bit, one leg dancing between their bodies, then the other. When Levi finally let go of the task that was keeping him occupied, Hange was already shaking the remaining pant leg off of her feet. With a final kick in the air, the item of clothing flew away, landing on the floor near the wall adjacent to them. The shirt joined it next. So much for being careful not to wrinkle their uniforms…

But his mind didn’t stay long on the evidence of their rendezvous, not when Hange Zoë stood before him in nothing but panties. Not when she had that gorgeous wide smile that made him go to heaven and back every time he caught a glimpse of it. Levi stepped forward, one of his hands unceremoniously sliding down her stomach and right under the waistband of the undergarment. His eyes were fixed on her face as his fingers explored the outside, feeling the prickling of her thick bush and the way it contoured her slit, then the warmness inside, the frailness of that naked skin, and then-

Fuck.

So fucking wet.

Hange’s eyes fluttered closed and Levi melted away when his fingers finally dove in between her folds.

Her head fell onto his shoulder, her panting occasionally broken by a whimper, as Levi alternated between dipping his middle finger into the pool that gathered at her entrance and rubbing circles on her clit with his coated digit. Her lips were so close to his ear, every little gasp or moan falling into it and traveling straight to his cock, which he’d unconsciously started rutting against her leg.

It felt so good.

A little more of this and Levi was sure he would make a mess on his uniform, and if the way Hange’s body was starting to wriggle was any indication, she was close too.

Levi’s wish was to speed up his ministrations, have her come on his fingers, and then in any and whichever other way she’d like, but, for once, reason spoke louder. After all those months fantasizing about this, stroking himself late at night in the communal bathroom over the thought of the faces she’d make during her high, he couldn’t have Hange hiding in his neck when that finally happened. That wouldn’t do.

Still, it was hard to stop.

Levi let his finger slide down from her clit to push at her entrance, and the way her slick walls sucked him in had him lightheaded. Even though the captain was a disciplined man, It took him every ounce of restraint he had to remove himself from her.

Hange started to protest but her words became mumbles and then silence fell as she stared at the digit disappearing between his lips. Levi’s eyes fluttered closed and he moaned at the tangy scent and the slightly salty taste of her.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” he whispered, hoisting Hange up by her thighs and diving into a deep kiss. She wrapped her legs around his waist, arms holding on to the back of his neck and his shoulder.

Hange rutted her hips against his clothed cock, following the rhythm of their tongues, her warmness and wetness radiating even through the fabric.

Levi moved them away from the wall, turning around to let her fall onto the mattress, ass right at the edge of the bed. He pulled her panties down her gorgeous long legs, taking a minute to marvel at the sight of her glistening pussy before falling to his knees.

He caressed Hange’s thighs, then pushed them down until they were flush against the mattress. Levi thanked the flexibility the Survey Corps training gave its soldiers as he watched her open herself as much as she could to him.

Hange shivered at Levi's kisses on her inner thighs and at the light circles his thumb traced on the sensitive skin near her knees. He made a path towards her hips and lay a final kiss on her slit. Only then he licked a stripe from her entrance to her clit. Levi closed his eyes for a second and he let out a throaty groan as he finally got a taste of her straight from the font.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this, Four Eyes” he breathed against her pussy. “You’re so good.”

Hange arched her back away from the bed and grabbed his sheets as his tongue prodded at her hole. Then, she was arching in the opposite way, back pressed hard against the mattress, head up, fingers once again tangled in Levi’s hair, holding his head in place as his lips latched on to her clit, soft tongue alternating between flicking it up and down and making circles all around it. She seemed to like the circles best.

Levi sped up his pace, marveling at the sounds Hange was making for him. Her sharp breaths were slowly and steadily being replaced by moans, which grew louder and quicker at each roll of his tongue. As her back started to rise from the mattress once again, and as her hands pressed his head down harder against her pussy, he knew she was close. His eyes shoot up to her, ready to burn the image into his memory. Her face was red and sweaty, eyes shut tightly, mouth agape, lips so swollen and glossy from their kissing. Hange looked like a goddamn goddess and Levi was worshipping her the way she deserved.

Hange's moans became shorter and shorter building up until a drawn-out whimper took over. This was it. Levi pressed his tongue flat and hard against her clit, and her whole body tensed up under him. Her legs shivered and her thighs tried to rise from the bed, but Levi pushed them down with his palms again, his tongue now pressing small firm circles on her clit, dragging out her orgasm 'til the last drop.

Her whine morphed into an anguished cry of pleasure as Levi’s tongue gradually slowed down, still firm against her oversensitive nub. When he finally stopped, Hange was pushing his forehead away from her. He sat back on his ankles to watch her with a cocky smile on the corner of his lips, her arousal smeared all over his cheeks and chin.

“Levi,” Hange panted “I had no idea you could fuck like that.”

“I haven’t fucked you,” Levi stood up, then added: “yet.”

His reply made her giggle, but as Hange sat on the bed and glanced at his pants, her eyes widened in silent panic.

Levi looked down to find his briefs and part of his open fly damp, with whitish stains starting to form in the drier parts. His blood froze during the split-second he believed he had cum in his pants just from eating Hange out, but, to his relief, it was the result of her rubbing against him earlier.

Given his natural clean-freak disposition, Levi would’ve thought something like this would annoy him, instead, it made his cock throb under the soiled pants.

“Sorry, Levi! I’ll get them cleaned when we-”

Levi took a step forward to hover over his colleague, one hand pushing her torso back to the bed, his knee nudging one of her legs to the side so he could shove his middle and ring fingers into her. Despite the abruptness of this intrusion, he slid in without resistance. Hange gasped and he cursed as her walls clamped around him.

“Looks like you’re ready,” he said, making a hook movement with his fingers as he pulled them out. Levi removed his shirt and hung it on one of the pegs behind his door. He used his ruined pants to wipe his hands and face, then discarded them next to Hange’s clothes on the floor.

There were no barriers between them now, no secrets, Levi thought, as he stood naked between Hange’s legs. Her hands traveled up his abdomen, soft palms tracing his muscles, making him shudder under her light touch. She pulled him closer for a kiss while retreating to lay further back on the bed. When they reached their destination, she shifted her weight to the side, showing him what she wanted.

Levi obeyed, laying on his back as she positioned herself above him, legs on each side of his hips, wet pussy lips hugging his dick, pressing it against his stomach.

Hange started out slow, rolling her hips back and forth, the sway of her body so fluid it had Levi hypnotized. He tried to get a hold of her breasts, but Hange caught his wrists, trapping them behind his head. She lowered herself on his chest to lay little pecks on his lips, which soon became deep kisses. She moaned in his mouth each time his tip poked at her clit.

Hange freed one of her hands to play with Levi's chest. He watched unblinking as she dipped her thumb and index finger in her mouth before trapping one of his nipples between them. She twiddled with nub and Levi couldn’t hold back his moans, the sensation completely overwhelming.

“So sensitive,” she smiled down at him, and the sight was so divine Levi wondered if maybe he’d died and was in heaven. He was so entranced he didn’t have time to react when Hange guided him to her entrance and sank down.

“Fuck! Han-” his words melted into an incomprehensible mewl.

An eternity fantasizing during the Senior Officers’ meetings wouldn’t have prepared him for how fucking fantastic it felt to be inside Hange. She was impossibly tight and yet it was so easy to slide in and out of her. Hange didn’t give him time to get used to her grip, setting a steady pace from the get-go. Levi would occasionally snap his hips to meet her thrusts, and every time he did so her pussy clenched around him, making him see stars.

The best part was feeling all of this while watching Hange’s face contort in pleasure, her usually innocent big brown eyes, now half-lidded, shutting hard whenever he hit some secret spot deep inside of her. When her lips parted to let out a moan, he couldn’t help but capture them in a kiss, swallowing her sounds. The feeling of her tongue gliding through his somehow made the pleasure he was feeling skyrocket. If heaven felt like this, he didn’t care if he died tomorrow in the expedition.

His soul just about left his body when out of nowhere Hange tightened more than he thought possible around him. Levi looked up in confusion, only to find a mischievous grin on her face. She did that on purpose and oh fuck-

Again.

And again.

Hange kept this up, bouncing faster and faster on his cock. Indescribable pleasure built up in him, the sensation so intense and overwhelming that Levi didn’t even have it in him to moan. So he panted, louder and louder, quicker and quicker, until, with a final long squeeze Hange tipped him over the edge, and then he was shuddering, spilling all he had inside of her.

They lay side by side for several minutes, first catching their breath, and then breathing silently. The mattress shifted when Hange propped herself to get up, but Levi got a hold of her wrist before she could leave the bed.

“Where do you think you’re going, Four Eyes?”

“To clean myself up” she replied, moving to leave the bed, but Levi wouldn’t budge. “What? I thought my tidiness would make you proud” She joked, getting an amused puff from him, but his hand remained in place.

“Stay. Please.”

Hange lay back again, facing him, and Levi sighed in relief. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer to bury his face in the crook of her neck, his nose drowning in her hair. His lips found the shell of her ear to plant his confession “I wanna go again”, to which she replied with a chuckle and a light caress of his hands. A truer confession, however, would be that he simply didn’t want this night to end.

“As much as I’d like to, I gotta be able to ride my horse tomorrow”

Right.

Tomorrow.

His thoughts must have been made transparent by his expression because Hange’s playful demeanor changed to a serious one. She lay on her back, staring at the ceiling in silence for long minutes.

“Do you think we’ll ever see this thing through?” She said, finally.

He tilted his head to the side, and she looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

“Titans. The walls. These expeditions” Hange elaborated, looking at the ceiling again, “I know these things take time, generations even, but I can’t help but wonder if we’ll see an age without Titans in our lifetime.”

“No.”

She smiled weakly at his honest reply and the expression looked so out of place on her face. Levi’s heart felt suddenly heavy.

“I thought you liked your research.”

“I do, it’s just- wouldn’t you rather have a choice, Levi?”

He would, but having grown without the luxury of taking anything, not even sunlight, for granted, he knew better than to entertain false hopes. He should be honest.

“Maybe we have a chance,” is what Levi found himself saying, instead. “Maybe tomorrow we’ll kill every last titan outside of the walls or you’ll find some secret poison or come up with some incredible weapon that will wipe them out. Maybe tomorrow will be our last expedition.”

She smiled a strange smile, melancholic and complicit, her eyes reflecting exactly what he was feeling. It was a conversation without words.

Thanks for lying for me. Thanks for lying with me.

Hange turned on her side, this time with his back to him, and pulled one of his arms close to her chest.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

#My first time writing full-on smut tee hee #Levihan #levihan fanfiction #levihan fanfic #levihan smut #levi ackerman smut #hange zoe smut #levi ackerman x hange zoe #levi ackerman #hange zoe #attack on titan #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #aot smut #snk smut #mndi #minors dni #my writing

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atarathegreat · 5 months

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It'll Hold Yamagishi Kazushi

It wasn't how Kazushi had planned to ask you: your lips wrapped around his cock so deliciously as he came down your throat with a strangled "please, live with me." He hated that it slipped out like that and at that moment, hated that you smiled at him with a spot of ivory collecting on the side of your mouth. What could Kazushi do then but double down? So he leaned forward and wiped the mess onto his thumb, pressing it to your tongue, "Move in with me?" He loved how excited you'd gotten, as if you hadn't just been gagging on his length.

You wore the same excitement when you finally finished bringing boxes into his home. The main problem Kazushi encountered was the boxes of books you'd brought with you. If it wasn't your grunts that turned him on as you moved them out of the way, it was him tripping over them as he got ready to leave in the morning. He wanted to surprise you, as well as get rid of the nuisance that left him with either aching toes or an aching cock. Of course, his at home office was missing a bookshelf and, of course, he could've just bought a bookshelf, but he wanted it to be special to you. For days he stayed cooped up in the garage, measuring and sizing up planks of wood with the spot he'd chosen to place the shelf.

"Kazu?" He groaned as he heard your voice call for him from the kitchen. It was hard to hide five by one shelves, and he didn't really want to tell you what he was doing. Though he probably would. "Out here, baby girl!" Kazushi called back, marking the edge of the shelves where he'd have to drill them together.

You stepped slowly down the four steps, eyes grazing over everything he was messing with, "What's all this?" A hefty grunt sounded as Kazushi stood tall, "Makin' a shelf for your books."

Not only would it look good in his home office, it gave him an excuse to have you sitting in there with him while he took care of paperwork or had to sit through some stupid phone call. He'd already bought a smaller desk and chair for you to be nestled in with him, and it would be so much better on days he had to work if he could glance up and watch you reading.

"You're making it for me?" You dragged your finger across the wood, "Are you sure it'll be strong enough?" He chuckled, jabbing the flat pencil into his roughly done up bun, "I have faith that it will. This isn't the first thing I've made, y'know."

"But books are really heavy..." The way you mumbled made him smile. Like you didn't want to doubt him and his handiwork, but you also wanted to be careful. The way you gasped as he picked you up and set you on the shelf made his dick twitch in its confines. Double checking the saw horses distracted him long enough to calm down. Kazushi held his arms out as if to say "it's strong."

"Books will be sitting for a while... What if it's not-"

"Do you want me to prove it?" Why couldn't he tear his eyes away from the way you gripped the edge of the wood, and why was it reminding him of you fisting the sheets? Damn it, he was going to prove it in the best way. You loved when he got into his moods, cocky and oh-so sure of himself to the point he'd fuck you just about anywhere if he had to. Or wanted to.

"Hands on me, baby girl." Kazushi pried your fingers from the shelf and made you latch onto his shoulders. He never wasted time, it wasn't who he was. And he never knew when the next call was going to drag him away from home. Cold air caressed your body as Kazushi pulled your pants away, "Legs open, I gotta finish this damn bookshelf by tomorrow."

It was important to him that it was finished by the next day. You'd been living with him for three months now, well, three months come tomorrow. For a man who wasn't sentimental, he really did like to do things that meant something. Even if just to make you happy. Seeing your smile made his bones hum and he loved that feeling. Kazushi had done drug after drug, never sticking to them, but trying them, and none of them had been as intoxicating as you and your smile. It made his blood feel like fire and his skin tingled wherever you touched him. God, he never thought he'd be so attached to someone.

"You're really fuckin' dangerous, you know that?" He freed himself, rubbing his swollen tip around your entrance, "Makin' me need you."

You giggled and the sound was godly, "I didn't do it on purpose."

Kazushi slowly pushed into you, groaning at the way you squeezed him just right. "So pretty, taking me like this." Kazushi watched the way your hole stretched around his tip as he pulled it out and pushed it back in, "You trust the shelf yet? Or do I need to convince you some more?"

"I dunno." That shit eating grin was going to be the cause of your bed rest, "Might need a little more proof."

But he didn't really care, any chance he got to be balls deep in you was a chance he wouldn't be wasting. The saw horses could handle how rough Kazushi was, hell, he'd bent you over the damn things before and they didn't so much as walk. "Move with me." His hands gripped your thighs and turned you so that you were laying along the length of the wood, "I want you to leave a fuckin' stain, got me?"

Heaven help him, you were so obedient and willing to do anything with him. "Kazu." A long, drawn out moan of his name as he bottomed out was the most perfect sound Kazushi had ever heard, "We-we need to be really, really sure that this shelf will hold."

"Don't worry, baby girl, I know how you want me." Kazushi stroked your cheek, "Let me prove my craftsmanship, yeah?"

As always, he started slow. Hurting you wasn't something he was looking to do. Sure, you liked it rough and all, and he wanted to please you in every way, but he refused to hurt you. Something about the way you gripped him from inside, the way you purposefully tensed up to squeeze him, you were a damn tease and it drove him crazy. "Do that again and hold it," He ordered, sounding like he was giving his team a command, and yet you listened, "Fuck, you're perfect." You moaned as he pressed the heel of his palm against your lower abdomen, making you feel more from him as he picked up his pace.

"Too much pressure." You whined and Kazushi loosened his hold on you. Everything you said was listened to and Kazushi wasn't ashamed to say that, yes, he was whipped.

But pressure didn't matter when Kazushi really started going. There was no worry that the shelf would move off the saw horses, and the wood didn't even bow under the weight of the two of you. Deodorant and sweat filled your senses as Kazushi held you flush to his body, his breath panting on your neck as he sat back, him straddling the shelf and you straddling him. "Oh, god..." You planted your forehead to his shoulder, "Feels like you're in my stomach."

"Good." Kazushi chuckled, fucking up into you. There was no choice for you to not sink onto his cock, gravity wouldn't reverse itself and you didn't want it to. From this new angle he was hitting everything, rubbing every bit of space in your pussy and all you could do was gasp and borderline scream out his name.

"Kazu, m'gonna come." Your whine was cute to him, sweet and made him want you even more. "Said I wanted you to stain the wood, didn't I?" He grunted, "Fuck, baby girl, come for me."

You tightened around him, biting him as you tried to help by bouncing as best you could. "Kazu, harder, please." You whined into his neck. Static filled his body as he hit harder, his tip pressing against your cervix and making him moan with you, and he couldn't hold it together anymore when you came, biting his shoulder as your muscles contracted around him. Kazushi laid back, relaxing on the shelf as he filled you, panting, "I think it'll hold your books."

#anime #manga #x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #kazushi yamagishi #kazushi yamagishi x reader #fanfiction #Kazushi yamagishi smut #smutt #smut #female reader

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