Tumgik
#anon sorry for the delay and sorry for taking your ask and doing this with it.
fayes-fics · 24 days
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Eden
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
Summary: Seeing you with other Bridgerton offspring has an interesting effect on your new husband...
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I couldn't resist using a Season 3 gif cos hello.
Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, breeding kink, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, vaginal sex, creampie, ie filthy babymaking. Also, the smut is bookended by fluff; yeah, that probably needs a warning, lol.
Word Count: 4.2k
Authors Note: This is a very belated request fill for @victoriaholland (HERE) and Anon (HERE) about Benedict with a touch of baby fever. I decided to combine the asks as I saw a way to weave them together. Sorry for the delay, but well at least babymaking seems appropriate for spring hehe. Thank you to @colettebronte for being an awesome beta, as always. Err, Enjoy! <3
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Daphne’s latest child is beautiful; you delight in his joy as he bounces on your lap, learning the strength of his sweetly chubby legs, little fists wrapped tight around your fingers. 
Looking up, you catch your husband's eye from afar, his stare intense across the gardens of Bridgerton House as you sit under a tented shelter upon a picnic blanket. The rest of the family are scattered around, playing games or chatting, but you are quite content minding the little one while his nanny takes a few moments to eat lunch.
“Is everything alright, my love?” You inquire as Benedict draws closer. 
“Yes… I….” He seems a little flustered. 
“Are you sure?” 
You pull a funny face for the infant, who breaks out into the most adorable infectious giggles that has you grinning from ear to ear and hugging him into your body, swaying with him. 
“Are you alright? Minding the child?” He checks, his voice a touch odd.
“Oh yes. We are more than happy, are we not, my little prince?” You talk in a vaguely silly baby-talk voice, addressing the child in your arms as much as Benedict. 
Again, the child peals with delighted noises and spit bubbles enthusiastically, looking up at Benedict eagerly as much as you do.
“Well, that is wonderful news,” he blusters, and you could swear he is out of sorts, breathless almost. “I shall… leave you to it,” he adds, giving you a bow and then withdrawing as the little one wiggles out of your arms.
“Ignore your Uncle Benedict; he is being a silly billy,” you whisper conspiratorially once the man in question is out of earshot.
The response is babbled nonsense as the child bashes one wooden brick against another.
“I quite agree,” you state sagely before breaking into a goofy grin.
——
“Please?” Hyacinth wheedles.
“No, Hy,” you sigh without even looking up.
“Ugh, you are no fun!” she scowls, crossing her arms defiantly.
“What is all this?” Anthony clips as he strides into the drawing room, Benedict on his heels, as Hyacinth flounces dramatically across the room. 
“Your little sister is angry at me because I will not allow her to drink the punch; it has brandy in it,” you explain cooly.
“Quite right, too!” Anthony chimes as Hyacinth rolls her eyes.
“Listen to y/n, Hyacinth, and do as she says,” Anthony lectures, and you feel grateful for his support, effectively neutering her rebellion. “Despite a temporary lapse of judgment when choosing a spouse, she is otherwise one of the most sensible people in this family.”
“Hey…!” Benedict protests.
“Please…” Anthony withers, twisting towards him. “Brother, if there is one thing us Bridgerton men know how to do, ‘tis to marry a woman entirely too good for us. And well done on that, by the way.”
You smirk at Anthony’s hilarious way of putting his brother - your husband - in his place, catching Kate’s eye with a wink as she enters the room carrying her baby. 
“Y/n, come and meet the future Viscount; he’s awake at last,” she calls to you. 
You are immediately on your feet and grinning, taking the tiny bundle from her arms and cooing at the sweet little boy. The baby opens his enormous brown eyes and observes you for a second before breaking into a one-toothed grin and happily waving his fists at you.
“Oh, he really likes you!” Kate enthuses, delighted.
“As I do you, little one,” you smile, leaning over to kiss his forehead.
You look up to see Benedict with that same look on his face as earlier. A tempest, almost an energy over his being. It’s almost as if he is… aroused?! Which is most odd.
As you hand the baby back to Kate, giving him one final kiss, Benedict is suddenly by your side. Announcing to the family that there has been a change of plan and, regrettably, you will not be able to stay for dinner, his arm an insistent tug around your waist.
——
“Why did we not stay for family dinner as originally planned, my love?” 
Your question is soft, only just audible over the noise of the carriage as you trundle over the cobbled streets of Mayfair a few minutes later. 
“I decided that we should perhaps dine at ours this evening…” his voice adopting that deeper edge which always causes butterflies in your tummy. His hand lands on your knee, a heavy weight that feels portentous. He slides closer on the bench seat.
“Why might that be?” your ask turns breathy, entirely without you meaning it to.
“I want to be alone with you,” he murmurs, unmistakably pitched to arouse. 
The carriage seems to notch up a few degrees as the rocking motion presses your side rhythmically into his. The sound of the wheels and hooves is so loud. He twists to wrap an arm around your shoulder and pulls your back against his flank. 
“All day today, I have watched you,” he rumbles, hand warming the skin around your clavicle, fingertip brushing in circles. “You are so very good with children, darling. Seeing you so naturally with the babies and how you handled Hyacinth… you would be the perfect mother.”
You blush a little at his praise. “Thank you, my love. I would like children one day. Your children. Imagine a child with your eyes. They would be quite the most beautiful,” you sigh wistfully, leaning back into him, his hand feeling heavier on your skin.
Benedict chuckles modestly. “And what of your beauty? Would a child version of you not be the most fetching?”
You giggle and turn your head sideways to nuzzle against his jaw. “I think we would indeed make beautiful babies together, Benedict.”
“I agree,” his voice a tempting lilt, fingers skating downwards over the swell of your breast now, slipping inside the fabric and making you gasp as he tweaks your nipple. “And I think we should start as soon as we get home.”
“Did seeing me with babies suddenly make you want your own, Mr Bridgerton?” Your hand flexes on his knee as he toys with your breast.
“Oh yes darling, it made me want to take you right there…” he asserts, finally admitting those looks he gave you were indeed pure arousal.
You reach up and run your hand into his hair, fingers flexing on his warm scalp as you pull his face to yours.  “And suddenly, it appears I am no longer hungry for dinner…” you whisper flirtatiously, your cupid's bow brushing his stubbled upper lip.
He groans, and his passionate kiss is plundering, a tingle running over your limbs, just as your carriage comes to a shuddering stop outside your townhome. 
Uncaring of the neighbourhood or any prying eyes, Benedict sweeps you out of the carriage in his arms, carrying you bridal style over the pavement and through your front door.
“My wife and I are not to be disturbed,” he announces crisply and loudly to the staff as you enter the hallway.
Leaving no room for doubt about his plans by pulling you into a searing kiss for all to see before ascending the stairs rapidly. He practically growls as he kicks open the door to your master bedroom door and slams it shut again with his foot. 
“Benedict…” you stammer, heart pounding at how overwrought he is. 
You have never seen him like this. Commanding, crackling with an energy that has your body simmering. He is usually so sweet, affable, and kind. Every time you have been intimate since your wedding night a few weeks ago, he has been a complete gentleman: loving and so very tender. The grip he has had on you tonight feels different. This is something primal—like a switch has been flipped at a basal level in his being.
He places you down onto your feet before the roaring fire, his face intense.
“Wife…” The way he says it makes you feel a flush creep over your skin.
“Husband…” you respond in kind, belly fluttering with excitement.
“Take off your dress,” he orders, his dilated pupils shining in the firelight.
This is new. Usually, he is the one to remove it slowly and softly from your body. 
“I cannot, the buttons…” you confess, signalling behind you. You would need your ladies' maid to unhook them from between your shoulder blades.  
He moves closer, seeming so much taller; his ragged breaths dance in the tendrils of your hair as he reaches around behind your shoulders. With a rough tug that makes you startle, he tears the fabric asunder, the sound of tiny pearl buttons skittering across the polished wooden floor behind you as you gasp in surprise.
“There…” he smirks dangerously, “problem resolved.”
You are speechless as he withdraws a pace, looking at you expectantly. You follow his order, a slight quake in your hands as you push the frayed dress down your body, still a little shocked by his strength. Then you reach for the crisscross lacing of your stays, feeling the weight of his stare as each loop relents, his eyes hungry, his body heaving with deep breaths his fitted jacket taut with each inhale. You peel the item away, leaving just your thin white cotton chemise.
“Rip it too,” you plead before you realise it, enthralled by this assertive demeanour.
With a noise in the back of his throat, he takes a pace forward again, and you stare up at him, enchanted. He grasps the fabric above your breasts and then rips it loudly from your chest all the way to your ankles, the sound echoing up the walls. Again, his strength has your knees weak. As the torn pieces flutter from your body, you want to bathe in the hungry sound he makes as he realises you are clad only in white knee-high silk stockings, no underwear to be seen, the warmth from the fireplace swirling around your intimate area. 
As you stand almost naked before your imposing husband, him still fully dressed, there is a knot low in your gut. But it’s not fear; it’s something else entirely—desire. Trembling, breathless and wanting. An elemental wish to be thoroughly taken.
He steps forward, eyes glittering, and his fingers plough roughly between your legs, making you gasp.
“Eden,” he proclaims, his fingers snagging over your swollen pearl of a clit with almost rough strokes, the callous where he holds his paintbrush abrading your folds. “A wonderful, lush, wet garden. Just waiting to be planted.”  His words are hypnotic and low, questing fingers being coated with a dewiness that is entirely of his making.
“Please…” you whimper, squirming on his touch, captivated by this version of your husband, wanting to submit to him, a burning need low in your belly. His fingers slide faster, making a lewd, wet noise. 
“Are you going to let me?” Benedict croons. “Plant my seed inside you?”
Until now, he has always been careful to complete outside your body. A slightly bereft feeling every time - the wonderful moment cut short as he leaves you suddenly empty, a warm splash upon your thighs, tummy or spine. The idea he will stay inside you is alluring in a way you don’t fully comprehend.
“Yes, please, husband,” your nipples puckering almost painfully against the wool of his lapels as he crowds into you. 
“Good. Get on that bed right now,” Benedict orders roughly, pointing at your four-poster bed as he tugs off his jacket.
You scramble to obey. Feeling under a spell. Being naked save your stockings feels illicit as you lay back into the soft pillows and watch as he undresses, staring you down the whole time. 
You slide a hand between your legs instinctively as more of his toned body is revealed. He growls at the sight, you biting your lip and watching him, his torso bare, his trousers clinging to his shapely legs, to his swollen cock. He bends to remove his shoes, and the sight of his broad shoulders flexing is enough to make you moan. As he stands back up and hooks his elegant fingers around the trouser buttons, a smug look on his handsome face that he is doing this to you.
“Husband…” you call out to him, writhing on your fingers shamelessly now, one hand shooting up to brace your movements against the headboard, flushing warm down to your toes.
With a few dextrous flicks, the buttons relent, and his trousers drop to the floor. His naked body is always a delicious sight, but tonight feels more, every sense heightened, moaning again as he takes a step towards you, thigh muscles flexing, his cock standing proud to attention.
Again, a soft plea falls from your lips, your eyes raking every plain of his tempting form, feeling yourself swell under your fingertips.
“Not yet,” he clucks, the arrogance somehow more beguiling as you bite your lip. “I think I want to watch you come, my darling. All by yourself. I hear female pleasure can aid with conception after all.”
“Will you not touch me?” you petition, reaching your other hand imploringly towards him.
“No darling, I shall watch,” his lopsided grin deadly. 
He wraps a strong fist around his own cock, pumping slowly, a bead of moisture gathering at his tip, glistening in the candlelight as he does. 
“Now, use both hands, please. Place your fingers inside yourself,” Benedict instructs as you blindly follow, a languid buzz in your brain—you would do anything he told you to right now.
Planting your feet squarely on the bed, you drag your ankles up higher towards your bottom, letting your legs fall open wider to give him a better view as your other hand slides down. You plunge two fingers into yourself, your hips canting off the mattress with a staccato breath at the sensation of yourself, so hot and tight.
“That's right,” he endorses, a leisurely movement of his hand up and down his cock as he watches you from a few feet away. “‘Feel yourself, darling. Tis paradise, is it not?” that trademark rumbling voice skittering over your skin, goosebumps raising down your arms just at the tone. 
“Come closer,” you appeal breathily, wanting to smell him, feel his heat, his flesh—anything.
He shakes his head, smirking wider as his refusal spurs you on, desperate to come. Mewling as your fingers speed up, one circling your clit, the others buried as far as you can, wishing instead it were his long, graceful fingers reaching places you are unable. Watching him squeeze his own cock hurtles you fast, already aroused from the moment he slid a hand into your dress in the carriage. 
Unable to fight the tide in your body, you screw your eyes shut and call out his name as your pussy starts to convulse around your own fingers, toes curling into the sheet, your muscles all going stiff, your hips again raised as you feel the tide break. A gush of wetness runs down your palm and your bottom cheeks as your mind floats away. Distantly, you can hear him speaking, but it’s fuzzy as you flop back down, sated, your legs going flat, too shaky to balance.
You startle as a warm hand circles the wrist of your fingers still inside yourself, bringing you abruptly back into the room. Benedict looms over you, his chest heaving, that power still there.
“What was that?” your query drowsy, lips dry.
He chuckles richly. “I said that was spectacular,” he repeats, bemused. “But also that I want you to paint your nipples with your arousal, my love, for me,” he commands, tugging your hand so your fingers slide out of yourself.
You do as bidden, still floating down from the high, smearing your own warm juices onto your puffed areolas.
“Perfect..” he intones.
In one swift, athletic move, he mounts the bed. You cry out as his warm mouth encloses your left nipple, groaning lewdly as he licks you clean of your arousal, his tongue a heavy, warm, wet weight curling around your sensitive bud, his lips tugging gently, reawakening those synapses only just recovering from your orgasm. 
“Why do you always taste like heaven?” his dusky question is rhetorical, his breath gusting over your sternum as he swaps to your other breast to meter out the same treatment. He has you moving under him again as he settles his body over you more firmly, your hips tilting up to feel his hard cock graze your inner thigh. “I wonder if you will still taste like heaven when you are heavy with my child?” he hums thoughtfully as he teases your nipple with the tip of his nose, one hand cupping your empty belly. “I dare say even moreso, ripe like a vine, bearing fruit…” That sonorous voice teases over your skin as he moves slowly upwards to nuzzle your neck. “My fruit….” he adds, possessive as he sucks your earlobe into his mouth, so loud now right by your ear.
His hands wind around your thighs as he shuffles position so he is kneeling between your legs, his ropey thighs spread wide under yours…
“Are you ready for that, my love?” he pauses until you nod almost imperceptibly; you squeak as he suddenly hauls you down the bed, hips onto his lap, your pelvis now higher than your head upon the sheets. Your stockings unfurling down your legs where he quickly plucks at the ribbons holding them aloft.
“Good, because I am more than ready for you,” it almost sounds like a warning.
Then, with a solid thrust, he spears into your body, the invasion toe-curling, your fingers grasping his muscular forearms that are clamped around your waist. It is a primal position, and he begins to thrust with no mercy, his cock feeling huge and heavy, a strong weight that drags heavily over your walls as your pussy clings to him. Your eyes flutter closed as you whimper his name, powerless to do anything but take his thrusts, draped across his lap as you are.
“Look at me,” he demands raggedly. And you do, his handsome face contorted with effort as he slams into you, a little bead of sweat forming on his brow. “Look at me while I fuck a baby into you, wife.”
He’s never spoken to you like this before, clipped, harsh. It seems appropriate that he would be almost desperate in an act so elemental, so of the earth—to create life. Stoking a fire deep in your core that is a clarion call for him, a frisson running over your skin at the idea you are being impregnated. Bred.
You know neither of you will last long with this almost frenzied coupling, the tendrils of your arousal already swirling so soon after your last, his near-brutish handling precisely what you need, your swollen pearl slammed into his flat abdomen with every stroke he takes. The sheets roll under your shoulder blades as he keeps the same position, your hips high, a mounting that you cannot and do not want to escape, knowing he is leaving fingertip bruises around the dip of your waist, marks you will carry secretly with pride just for him.
You moan his name, so close again to that ephemeral bliss, thrashing your head from side to side as if willing the pleasure to break and wash over you.
“Come on, come for me, milk me, darling. Take what you need, take my seed,” his voice a deep wrecked purr, the lines of his body tense, craving release as much as you.
That command is what breaks the dam for you, an almost violent ricochet fanning out from where you clench around him, his cries muffled behind the rushing noise in your ears, every part of you convulsing in a pleasurable wave. And then, in a floating haze, for the very first time, you feel your husband come inside you, a warm bloom that coats your walls. It's an intoxicating feeling; you never want him to come anywhere else ever again.
“That's it, well done, my love,” he croons, eyes still shut as he shudders with little aftershocks, not leaving your body—as if he wants to stay inside you always.
——
As the embers in the fireplace glow white, you lay in post-coital bliss, bodies dewy from exertion. Benedict rests his head upon your stomach as you card your fingers leisurely through his hair.
“Do you believe we may have made a baby, darling?” he hums, pressing his ear to your belly button as if listening for a heartbeat.
“I am certain of it, husband; you were so very thorough with your attentions,” you assure as he takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. “I hope our baby has your face,” you opine.
“Even if it is a girl?!”
“Thou art as pretty as thou art handsome, Mr Bridgerton,” you quip.
He laughs, carefree, crawling behind you and pulling you into a spooned embrace. “Be careful with such provocation, wife; I may not be done with you after all,” he jests idly. “I, on the other hand, hope our child looks like you, even if it is a boy.” he posits, crowding into your back, his lips warm on the shell of your ear.
“Why?” you laugh, frowning, twisting to look back at him.
“So that I may love them as much as I do you,” he breezes nonchalantly as if what he says is not the sweetest thing you can imagine, causing a tart, sudden spike of want through your body, even as you lay sated.
“Be careful, husband,” you volley back, coquettish. “Or I may not yet be done with you.”
There is a sharp, approving intake of breath, and his hand slides low from your belly into the thatch of hair at the apex of your thighs.
“Is that a promise” he rumbles, your gasp loud as his fingers expertly drag against your clit.
“It is whatever you want. Just do not stop,” you rush out, your hand curling around his bicep, feeling a rigid mass slide hot against your bottom. “Again, husband,” you appeal breathily. “Impregnate me again.”
“With pleasure, wife,” he growls, surging into your body with a force that again steals the very breath from your lungs.
The pinkish light dawn is streaking over the ceiling above when you both finally succumb to sleep after many more vigorous attempts at babymaking. The last one, perhaps the most desperate, you pinned against the headboard, him fucking into you so hard from behind that a jagged crack appears, spidering up the wall from where the bedframe slammed into it. A flaw which he steadfastly refuses to get fixed, claiming it to be the most profound art—a souvenir and ode to a momentous night.
——
9 months later
Benedict’s lips mash against your sweaty brow as he keeps lauding you with praise, excitement and pride evident in his every word. You flop back onto the bed, exhaustion deep in your bones, your body turned inside out, hurting in a way you have never known.
But it was all worth it.
What feels like only moments later, in your shattered, addled state, the doctor and nurses depart. Your husband perches on the bed next to you, his face a picture of wonderment. Holding not just one but two bundles of joy in the crooks of his arms. One girl, one boy—fraternal twins.
“My love, we have created the most beautiful creatures on all of this earth,” he attests partisanly, his voice profound with emotion, his eyes pinging from one swaddled face to the other as they sleep soundly.
You shoot him a watery but ironic smile. “I suppose, dear husband, that is what happens when you spend a whole night impregnating me. You succeed twice over.”
His brow raises pointedly, his tongue shooting out to pass over his bottom lip. “Are you suggesting next time around, wife, we keep going for three days straight? So that I may have a brood of eight by the time we are done?” Deploying his bedroom voice that he knows full well makes your knees weak.
“Do not say such things in front of the children!” you chide, swatting his knee where it touches your thigh. “And no, I am not carrying six of your progeny at once; that is simply preposterous!”
“Four?” he petitions with a wink.
You roll your eyes affectionately, settling back into the mound of pillows. “A maximum of two at a time is my final offer, Benedict Bridgerton,” you respond drolly.
“Entirely reasonable,” he chuckles contentedly, dropping a kiss onto each of their foreheads before handing both to you so delicately, as if they are the most precious bundles in the world. 
Which to you both, they are.
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hannie-dul-set · 5 months
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WHAT’S WRONG WITH CEO PARK?
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p — PARK SUNGHOON x gn! reader. g — ceo! sunghoon and secretary! reader, humor, romance. w — swearing, sunghoon being a weirdo, a misplaced marriage proposal. 1.3k words.
requested by — anon: menace to everyone but you x the opposite of that.
note — i hate the cold angsty male ceo trope. so instead i turned ceo hoon into a weirdo that's a little bit too in love and doesn’t understand the concept of workplace boundaries which stresses you the fuck out!!
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when you got promoted from being assistant secretary thanks to your ceo’s former secretary resigning, your co-workers did not throw you a celebration.
“you called for me, mr. park?”
instead, they threw you an advanced farewell party. it was nice working with you, said the cake dusted with stray confetti on the day of your promotion. they’re celebrating your inevitable resignation. they’re sure you’re going to follow suit after you predecessor within three months max because according to them—
“yes.”
your boss, park sunghoon, is the nastiest fucker in the planet.
“take a seat.”
you gulp, making cautious steps into your ceo’s office. he’s signing a stack of documents while you take your sweet time delaying having to sit in front of his paper-stacked desk, setting them aside the moment you sit down, sharp eyes immediately zeroing into your soul, and you start sweating.
there’s a bet on the line on when you’d eventually quit. today marks your fourth month here, and you’re pretty sure heeseung is going to win because you are in fact this close to sliding your pre-written resignation letter over his desk, adding onto his pile.
not because he’s terrible, like they all say. not because he’s temperamental.
“sunoo told me you were sick,” sunghoon starts. “why did you come to work today?”
but because you fear your boss might be a little bit in love with you.
“is...is that the only reason you asked for me?” you hesitantly say, picking on your cuticles and trying to avoid eye contact because the concern drowning your boss’s expression is just enough to drown you as well.
“you don’t look well,” he avoids your question. of course you don’t look well. you’re very, very uncomfortable right now and the main cause of that discomfort is him. “you should go home. i’ll tell jay to drive you.”
you’re pretty sure jay isn’t going to be happy with that. 
“mr. park—”
“i thought i asked you to call me sunghoon.”
your mouth is left hanging open. you’re flabbergasted. you take a second to recollect your thoughts. “...mr. park. sir,” you emphasize. you should at least be the one reminding him of your hierarchical roles at the moment. sunghoon looks upset that you’re not abiding by his request, but says nothing in protest so you continue. “i ran out of sick leaves. and there’s still so much work to do, i can’t just go home.”
“you ran out? well i’ll just give you more.” sir, that’s not how it works. “and jungwon can take care of your work. you should go home and rest.”
jungwon wouldn’t be too happy with that either. you feel your stress levels rising, headache incoming, because he’s just not listening to you. this crazy bastard, you think to yourself.
but maybe you were thinking a little too loudly.
“can you say that again?”
you slap a hand over your mouth with a gasp.
“say it again.”
you’re fucked. you just called your boss a bastard right to his face. “i’m—i’m so sorry, mr. park, i didn’t mean to—” but maybe that’s a good thing because that means you wouldn’t need to debate about resigning if he’s gonna fire you. “i apologize. i’ll accept any punishment you’ll give me.”
“no, say it again,” he hums, sounding a little too happy after being called crazy and a bastard, and you get a bad feeling. a really bad feeling. “i felt like we just got closer because of that. swear at me again.”
there’s a smile playing on your boss’s face. 
“i— i don’t think that’s appropriate, sir.”
jesus christ, he’s a bit more in love with you than you thought.
“why not?” when sunghoon gets up from behind his seat, circling out from behind his desk to lean back against it right in front of you instead, you start fearing for your life. he looks at you, arms crossed in disappointment, and he looks a little too good with rolled up sleeves and slim-fit slacks. 
crap, were you just checking out your boss?
his crazy is rubbing off on you.
“you have no trouble with swearing at and laughing around with the others,” he says. “why can’t you do the same with me?”
he is not normal, you think. thankfully not out loud this time. “sir, you’re my boss. i’m just your secretary. there’s a big gap there. i can’t just treat you the same way as i do with my co-workers.”
your boss takes in your words. he remains quiet with a stoic face for a few moments, and with each passing second of silence, you feel half a year of your life being shaved off. “ah,” he finally makes a sound after a good minute and a half. “should i give you a promotion, then?”
oh my fucking god, he’s nuts.
“boss, there’s an urgent thing you need to—”
“did i permit you to enter my office?”
your eyes widen, slapped in the face by a whiplash when your fellow secretary jake suddenly pops into the office, only to be cut off by the sharp glare and icy tone of your boss. jake’s hand doesn’t leave the doorknob when he nearly stumbles in shock with a stack of papers pressed to his chest. you see the look on his face. it’s the face of someone who’s about to get royally fucked over.
“n—no, sir. but these documents are—”
“then why are you in my office?” holy shit. so this is what they meant when they said ceo park is a bitchy demon from hell. jake looks like he’s about to piss himself. you’ve never been on the brunt of his temper— likely because he’s biased and has feelings for you, which has always felt burdensome. but now you’re a little thankful because you’d probably cry if he snapped at you like that.
“i’m sorry, i’ll leave now. i apologize.”
with that, jake makes his hasty retreat, and you’re once more left alone with your crazy boss. 
“where were we?” he says. “oh, right. your promotion.”
you’re starting to feel dizzy. 
“i’ve never liked how seojoo handled things. you can take his spot as the sales department head.” you have to stop him. you have to stop him before he actually fires a competent employee and gives you their spot as a courtship gift. “wait. i think you’d prefer working in HR actually. it’s a shame ms. kim is going to lose her position, but i can just—”
“mr. park—”
“sunghoon,” he cuts you off. “call me sunghoon.”
you look at him, exasperated. “sir,” you say. “i don’t think this is right.”
sunghoon raises a brow. “you don’t like HR? which department would you prefer then?”
you can’t. you can’t do this anymore. you make the mistake of letting your eyes wander out of stress, because they inadvertently land on the shiny gold glint of his nameplate, which is a terribly bad move following after his question because sunghoon notices, and sunghoon gets the very, very wrong idea.
oh, no. oh, no no no no no—
“i see.”
he doesn’t! he doesn’t see! you aren’t coveting his seat! you just want to go back to work and stop dealing with your insane and far too in love with you boss!
“i’m afraid i can’t give away my position as ceo,” he tells you. you swallow, shutting your eyes because you don’t want to acknowledge the mess you’ve just accidentally made, but your lack of vision definitely doesn’t interfere with your sense of hearing.
what you hear next sounds clearer than you’d like it to be.
“how about the position of being the ceo’s fiancé instead?”
that’s it.
“i will be getting back to work now, mr. park.”
there is something very wrong with your boss. it’s not in your job description to fix him.
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WHAT’S WRONG WITH CEO PARK? © hannie-dul-set, 2023.
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harryslittlefreakk · 16 days
Text
arrogant s.o.b
summary: based on this request - grumpy/mean Harry and readers first fight and he says something really harsh/yells and makes her cry? And then feels really bad after like grumpyxsunshine vibes?
warnings: angst
wordcount: 1.6k
a/n: thank you to the anon who sent in this request!! 🥰💖 sorry it took me a while to get around to it. please let me know if this isn’t quite what you wanted, i don’t know if I’m 100% happy with it so im more than willing to tweak and rewrite!!!
my masterlist!! please feel free to send me more requests 💓 happy reading
“I miss you, Harry.”
You knew you were pushing it, he was already working himself to breaking point. But you couldn’t help it, you missed your boyfriend. His break was meant to be about finding time for himself again, spending time with his loved ones. And you thought that meant being with you, not spending every day confined to the four walls of a recording studio.
“I can’t delay my entire album because you miss me.”
“I’m not asking you to delay the entire album. Just take a day off, just once.”
“Why?! For what?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
Now you were both pissed off. You didn’t understand why Harry couldn’t just slow down. You’d only been able to see him in Italy for a few days, your work schedule unexpectedly busy. Part of you thought he was ‘punishing’ you for that, the sane part of you knew that his summer in Italy was his rest, and now he was back in London he needed to work. Harry’s work ethic was one of the things you admired most about him, and now you were arguing with him over it.
“Clearly it does matter.” He was stood by the door, keys in his hand, a dark scowl printed on his face.
“It’s fine, just go. Have a good day.” The hurt was evident in your voice, but you didn’t even want Harry to stay now with the atmosphere you’d created.
He hesitated for a moment, torn between wanting to stay and needing to leave. Finally, he sighed and turned to walk out the door without another word. The sound of the door swinging shut behind him echoed through the silent room, leaving you alone in your thoughts.
Tears welled up in your eyes as you sank into the sofa. You’d pushed him away when all you wanted was for him to stay. You knew you’d always come second to his career, he prioritised you over almost everything in his life but his music was so important to him. But once he finished recording, there would be interviews and appearances, then a tour, and then you’d be back here again. It was constant, unrelenting, and if he couldn’t even sacrifice one day for you, how could you expect him to slow down?
Harry stood frozen on the other side of the door, still stuck between needing to come back in and wanting to go. It never usually got to this point, one of you would back down before someone got hurt. It wasn’t exactly healthy, but it worked for you. He hated fighting, hated seeing you upset. But he was only now realising that it was usually you that compromised. He knew you well, and for you to actually speak up and ask him to stay despite knowing how important his work is to him? He’d fucked up.
He leaned against the door, his hand gripping the handle tightly as he closed his eyes, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside him. Guilt washed over him as he replayed the conversation in his mind. He knew he needed to find a balance between his work and his relationship, but it was easier said than done.
His hand fell from the door handle as he turned on his heel, dragging his feet away from the house. If he was going to make it right, he needed to be armed with all of your favourite things.
Harry replayed the morning in his head the entire time he was out. You’d woken up to his alarm as always, rolling over in his arms to wake him up with soft kisses. “Why do you set alarms if you know you can’t wake up for them?” you laughed, tapping at his nose as his eyes fluttered open. “Because you wake up and I get morning kisses,” he smiled, pulling you tighter to his chest.
He remembered how the morning light hit you at just the right angle, illuminating your puffy eyes and blushed cheeks. He’d caught himself wishing he could have five more minutes in bed with you, time to savour waking up next to his love. But he’d rolled out of bed in the same way as always, slipping out from under you just as you tried to curl your body around his.
You’d followed him to the bathroom silently, lingering in the doorway as you rubbed your tired eyes. “Wish I got to see you more,” you’d mumbled, eyes following his through the mirror. “You see me every day, kitten,” he’d replied, poking his tongue out when he saw you watching. He’d noticed your face fall slightly, a misty kind of sadness replace the natural glint in your eye. He cringed as he thought back, but he’d purposely ignored it to save himself the trouble.
“I see you when I wake up and just before bed,” you’d pouted, eyes glued to your suddenly fidgety hands. “I cant help that right now, pet. You know I can’t,” he’d tried to reason with you, and looking back, Harry thought maybe he was trying to convince himself. “Just a morning or an afternoon at home would be nice. Not even a full day,” you’d told him, voice cracking as you looked back up at him.
“I can’t have this conversation right now,” he’d muttered, kicking at the door until it swung closed in front of you.
And there he was now, heart struck with guilt at the thought of how badly he had neglected you.
As he heard your keys jingle outside the door, Harry finished rearranging his purchases across the bed. He gave one final look to the flowers on your windowsill, the beautiful blush pink roses he knew you loved. It was perfect, he just hoped it would be enough.
“Hi darling,” he smiled sheepishly as he walked down the stairs.
“Hi, H,” you replied, brows knitted as you stared at him. “What are you doing?”
“Come,” Harry murmured, reaching out a hand for you to take. You dropped your bag by door and took it, fingers tangling with his as he lead you back to the bedroom.
He stopped outside the bedroom door, pulling you into his arms. “M’sorry,” he whispered into your hair. “Didn’t think about what it’s like for you. I need time with you just as much as you need it w’me.”
“No, I’m sorry,” you told him, cuddling into his chest. “Nothing to be sorry for, pet.”
“Shouldn’t have pushed you like that,” you murmured, eyes closed as you breathed in his musky aftershave.
“Gave me the push I needed. M’not good at taking time off.”
“Don’t have to tell me that,” you laughed, stepping away from him as he turned to open the bedroom door.
“Got you your perfect day,” he smiled, stepping out of the way so you could see his creation.
All your favourite snacks were laid out on the bed, your matching pyjamas folded on the corner. The most beautiful flowers you’d ever seen in your favourite vase on the windowsill, candles lit on your nightstand and a cheesy rom com loaded on the tv.
“You did all of this?” you cooed, a grin spreading across your face as your gaze turned to Harry. He nodded, pulling his t-shirt off.
“Nuh uh,” you swatted his hand away as he reached to pick up the pyjama top. “Only my perfect day if you’re topless,” you smirked, quickly peeling your clothes off to throw the pyjamas on.
You climbed into bed next to Harry, pulling the duvet up to your chin before wrapping your body around his, your head at home on his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, arms wrapped right around you.
“Made a few calls. Gonna start only doing three days at a time in the studio, then three days off,” he whispered, grinning when you immediately whipped round to look at him. “Don’t have to do that for me baby,” you gasped, brows furrowed.
“It’s the right call. Just gonna be longer days but worth it all if it means more time with you,” Harry winked, his hand caressing the curve of your waist.
You shifted upwards, placing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Thank you,” you smiled. “And congratulations.”
Harry returned your kiss, his lips lingering just a second longer than yours had. His touch and his kisses felt like home to you, his smile your lifeblood. “To me? For what?”
“To us. For our first fight,” you giggled, holding out a hand to high-five Harry. He grabbed a hold of your hand, using it to pull you even closer to him, until your faces were only centimetres apart.
“Here’s to our first and last fight,” he whispered, eyes locked on yours. His teeth latched onto your bottom lip as he went in for another kiss, the rocky waves in your stomach turning to butterflies as his tongue moved around yours.
You pulled away after a minute, settling back into his arms with a smile so bright it could have lit up the room.
“Can’t believe we started the day with you thinking your album is more important than me,” you mumbled, a mischievous sparkle in your eye as you tangled your fingers between Harry’s.
“Millions of adoring fans who’d do anything for me versus one woman? I know who I’m picking,” he teased, laughing as you smacked his thigh with your free hand.
“Maybe they were right,” you whispered, peering up at him.
“Hm?”
“About you being an arrogant son of a bitch.”
taglist: @angeldavis777 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @palmettogal508 @drewsephrry @vonnexann @austiebuttbutt @indigo24hughes @peterparkerbae @im-an-overthinker @daphnesutton @loveableidioticweirdo @harryshotpocket @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swag13r @ashleighsss @tswiftsgf @chesthairrry @nikkisimps @hannah9921 @lilfreakjez @prettygurl-2009 @s-h-e-l-b-e-e @indierockgirrl @cicicavill7 @harrystylesluverrrr @cohnfusedarling @ell0ra-br3kk3r @stylesfever
676 notes · View notes
wintersera · 7 months
Text
sick and twisted || stepsibling g!p winrina x virgin!freader
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notes: making a comeback. sorry anon for the long ass delay, but i also merged it with another ask bc i thought it would work well together. do NAWT ask why i took so long- i was going thru it 😭😭
cw: porn with plot, stepcest/pseudo incest, noncon -> dubcon, g!p dom winrina, virgin!reader, corruption, use of cuffs, oral (giving), blackmail, biting/marking, creampie, gagging, degredation, slapping, family issues, arguments, mentions of divorce.
wc 3.9k
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if you told jimin and minjeong that they would have another step-sibling in their life they would scoff at you, then laugh and say that’s not possible… then scoff in your face again.
yet here they were moving into another house their father bought for you and your mother.
isn’t that fun?
jimin, the actual biological child, was born and raised with a hot headed mother and poor excuse of a father. living with the two was hell for her, dealing with her mothers bull shittery almost every damn day.. and the absence of her father always led to her mother lashing out at her and never him. longer down the line of their shitty marriage, the father decided to pull the trigger and divorce her for good. maybe it was money issues? maybe it was something else? jimin didnt like to pry and she was glad she left it like that.
minjeong was the child of a broke, whorish and shitty woman. the marriage between jimin's father and minjeong’s mother actually lasted quite a while… to their surprise. who knew another horrid woman in this rich fuck of a man’s life would actually do some good to the both of them.
they ended up acting like they knew each other from day one- like i kid you not, they were inseparable. even after the divorce of their father and mother they still stayed together, obviously choosing their dad because god that man was rich as hell and they knew that they could use some privilege from it. not only that, but for some reason their dad loosened up a little, he actually became a much better person and worked on his self improvement, unlike minjeong’s mother who stayed a cheating BITCH … no wonder why their father divorced her sorry ass.
but beside the point. jimin, minjeong and their father arrived at the new mansion. somewhere secluded and somewhere breathtaking- only because your step father really thought your mother was the one and only woman for him.
jiminjeong, without prior notice to their fathers new found wife, and no knowledge of the womans daughter, were left shocked when they saw the two of you enter through the mansion’s doors.
your first impressions weren’t good at all… your mother looked and acted like- guess what?!! a bitch… and you? you seemed pretty decent at first, so jimin and minjeong didn’t really care. yeah, unfortunately they didn’t click with you, but they thought that they should give it some time. you were unfamiliar with the new environment and they knew it would cause crazy anxiety.
a couple months into the family and you and your mother finally started to act comfortably around the rest. it didn’t take long for you mother to start acting up though- frankly she opened up too much, as in, she started to become more and more of an asshole as the months went by. at first it started as simple requests from your step father. she would go around the house demanding him to buy this and that. her ego grew… and when i say grew, it inflated actually. nothing could stop her from being a prick, and unfortunately she influenced you to act like the same way.
she had a plan- she really didn’t love your step father. instead she was really just into it for the money. and of course, you knew that plan from the beginning. as much as you didn’t like your mother, the plan wasn’t half bad- deciding to stay with her was the right choice, well you thought so anyways. anything for money i guess.
the workload he had stressed your step father out so much and your mothers constant requests for money really didn’t help. berating him almost every day, sometimes she would go so far to the point of him having to lock himself in his office just so he could avoid her.
only 6 months of living together and she’s already driving him crazy? jimin and minjeong looked at each other in disbelief, surely you wouldn’t join in on the disruptive behaviour… right?
oh they were so wrong.
YOU-
you wanted the plan to go well too… you needed that cash. fuck your mother and everything, that cash meant more than your strained bond. you wanted it for yourself, so now it was your turn to fuck around and be a dick head.
doing everything in your power to get money from your step father, like your mother did. it started out all simple and sweet.. you know like casually asking for allowance, and since he was rich as fuck, allowance was usually something around 2k per ask. racking up the money somewhere in your room for yourself, you didn’t realise jimin and minjeong were staring at you through the crack of the door.
jimin carefully lowered herself to minjeong’s height, making sure you wouldn’t be able to hear an utter from her. whispering in her ear “what a waste… she’s pretty but she’s a money stealing prick”
somehow minjeong was calm about it, thinking you were just stashing it up because she knew you were previously broke. she’s been in that same situation, showing some sort of empathy towards you “i mean.. she hasn’t done any bad yet… well i hope she never does actually. i hope she’s not like her mom”
jimin scoffs “i doubt that”
the sound of something dropping on the floor caught their attention, you’d dropped a bag of some sort. their hearts beating out of their chests thinking that you had caught them watching you. thankfully you didn’t, uttering under a few curses under your breath and nothing else. sighing in relief, they had back to their respective rooms and called it a day.
that was until they heard you shouting downstairs after a couple of hours.
“fuck you mean you can’t give me any more money. aren’t you supposed to be my dad? you know, someone who cares for their children and shit”
jimin woke up first, creeping into minjeongs room and shaking her awake “…mmm… huh? what’s up”
“don’t be surprised, but i think y/n is arguing with our dad… told you she was like her mom”
sneaking their way downstairs, tiptoeing so they wouldn’t be heard. they notice their dad hunched over in the couch, his hands covering his face in.. anger? or sadness. they couldn’t tell.
“GOD- fuck you’re such a shit step dad… you know what fuck you” the step father being on the verge of tears, the way he balled up his fists, the way his face was red hot and the way he was biting down hard on his lip, you knew it was was working and you knew you were such a shit person for it, you were growing heated too- for some reason. mothers genetics you could say.
“you couldn’t keep your first wife, and you couldn’t keep your second wife?! and now you’re going to lose your third all because you can’t provide for your family like the good man you are.” you laughed in his face and clicked your tongue “ahhh it all makes sense now. you're a miserable excuse of a father and a poor excuse of a husband. you’re rich as hell i dont know why you can’t give me anymore money…”
“i-i.. i’m trying my best you know y/n” voice cracking “i’m doing my best to keep the family together… i just want us to be happy”
“yeah well you’re not doing a good job now are you? hell, you’re also a shitty example of a man too. go ahead and write those divorce papers. i’m sick of your shit”
with that, you walked back upstairs, jimin and minjeong running back up trying not to get caught.
you’d struck a nerve in them, witnessing you berate their dad knowing that he’s a changed man, made them vexed. jimin had been peering at your face, an obvious crease in her forehead and in between her brows made it obvious that she was planning something sick. minjeong had a cold and blank scowl.
they both gave each other knowing looks, a smirk on both of their faces… whatever they had in mind was not morally right, but they couldn’t care less.
sleeping soundly after the whole argument, glad that you could possibly get something out of it by the time you woke up, you failed to hear the sound of your lock being picked open.
jimin creeped towards your bed, gritting her teeth as she tried her very best not to punch you in the face. utter disgust was the one thing she was feeling, looking at you made her grimace. she found you pretty at first glance but after she witnessed you tear down her dad, her vision was shattered. even if she wanted to beat you up, she couldn’t, she wanted to defile you first. with shaky hands, she lifted the thick bed sheets off of your body, carefully stripped you out of your clothes and gazed at your naked body. she lightly slapped her cheek, you looked good bare but she didn’t let that take over her… yet.
she hooked your wrist onto the bed frame. the cold icy feeling of the cuffs latching onto your left wrist made you stir in your sleep, yet it wasn’t enough to wake you up from your deep slumber.
minjeong had the job of writing on you. depriving your humanity by writing objectifying words on your bare stomach. words such as ‘slut’, ‘filthy whore’, ‘gold digger’, were written across your stomach, thighs and legs. if it wasn’t humiliating enough, she took pics just for safe measures. it was horrible, yes she knew that.
she thought how genius it would be to draw an arrow on your lower abdomen pointing down towards your pussy, the words above saying ‘use here’. giggling to herself as she snapped another pic.
the flash from minjeong’s camera startled you. waking up grumpily asking “what the fuck is going on” as you tug on your arm, only to realise that you’ve chained to the bed.
first thing you noticed was minjeong’s camera pointing towards you, bright flash blinding your eyes “fuck- shit, this isn’t funny. turn the camera off” the chains on the cuff rattling as you attempt to pry them off “guys… this isn’t funny… take it off”
second thing you realised was the lack of clothing. the chilly air hit your body, goosebumps forming on your skin. the warmth of the blanket was no more and the intense humiliation began to seep into your body.
thirdly, the writing on your stomach and legs as you look down analysing the situation.
“you shouldn’t have said that earlier. the disrespect you have… yu y/n you’re disgusting” jimin spat at you, her gaze turned towards minjeong who then nodded. afraid that they would kill you right on the spot, automatically you started to sob out pathetic pleas
“listen, shit- i’m sorry. i was desperate okay… he should’ve given me the money anyway- cut me some slack, it was only a one time thing. you know, me and my mom rea-“
a hand flew to your face “shut the fuck up” she left a red stinging mark on your cheek- well deserved. minjeong gritted her teeth, she didn’t want her dad to wake up to another argument yet alone waking up to his two kids fight his other kid “this picture i took.. do you want this to be uploaded everywhere?” rapidly shaking your head in denial. the image in question was so vulgar, your legs being spread apart while the words ‘use here’ were pointing right at your pussy, it was truly horrible. minjeongs lips tugged upwards, biting back a snicker only because she wanted to seem serious and mean about this- oh and also because the image violently turned her on.
“n-no… delete the pic- please i’ll give the money back and apologise… just.. don’t upload it anywhere” hiccuping while hot tears streamed down to your chin.
“poor you” jimin added on “no one can help you now.. do as you’re told” her tone was sickening to hear.
it clicked and you felt disgusted, the knowing look that they had.. body language showing that they were about to ravish you. it was gross.
your tear stained face shifted into a dreaded look. feeling jittery, your eyes widened as both of them slid down their boxers, revealing their cocks that sprung up.
“…you guys are sick…” there’s no way in hell that they were about to do this. but here they were, approaching you as you attempt to free your wrist from the cuffs again “get away f-from me… you sick fuckers” minjeong sprang onto the bed first, holding your legs open as you try to kick away from her grasp. curses and shouts left your mouth, but they were useless since jimin wrapped her hand around it.
there was no use in fighting back. you gave into their heinous acts even if your body was rejecting them. no one was there to help you anyway. even if you called for your mother, she wouldn’t give a shit since she only cared for herself from the very beginning.
jimin, who stood beside you, pressed her cock against your face. you could feel her throbbing as she placed it on your cheek, the hard thing felt slimy and gross- you denied her as she tried to forcefully shove it in your mouth, which ended up with her slapping it around your face like you were some common whore “open up, unless you want those pics of you online” of course you didn’t want that- those posts would ruin your reputation, your self esteem. it would ruin you.
mentally screaming in your head, you open your mouth wide, feeling her thick cock enter your mouth slowly. jimin let out a long sigh, savouring the feeling of your tongue at the base of her cock- “a-ah.. you’re taking me whole? you slut” moaning out as she steadily rocks her hips back and forth “you should- mm fuck.. really use this m-mouth just to take dick, don’t you agree jeongie”
minjeong, who was stroking her dick in between your legs, nodded her head. fixated on the way you took jimin’s throbbing cock easily down your throat. she watched you with keen eyes, keeping her gaze on the way your lips parted and wrapped around her shaft while also listening to the gagging sounds you made everytime jimin hit the back of your throat.
having more of a moral compass in comparison to jimin, she felt a little bad for you- but couldn’t help getting off to the view in front of her. she grinned, a very fucked up grin you could say. grabbing her phone again, she pressed record without you noticing- being so caught up with having dick stuffed in your mouth. spreading your lips apart, pointing the cameras and zooming in on your soaked pussy “you really are a whore- getting wet from this.. you should’ve said you wanted this from the beginning y/n. or were you too much of a coward to ask” slapping your pussy repeatedly, earning a few muffled moans.
putting the phone down minjeong slipped her hard cock inside of you, skipping the condom and everything.
your pussy was tight, almost like a virgins… wait- “god, don’t tell me you’re a… you’re a virgin?” a sick and twisted smile crept upon both jimins and minjeongs face. and the way they got harder hearing that news further implicated that they were morally fucked up in the head “mmm… fuck, you’re so tight that i can barely move… y/n ah- ngh..” by trying to push her dick further into you, it caused you to scream out in pain and pleasure- the sensation of her throbbing cock filling up your virgin pussy felt alien, yet so good. thankfully you were soaking wet, and the precum slathered around minjeongs dick helped it slide in much easier than it should have.
“nmghh hurts… hurts-” you manage to say between breaths, voice muffled by jimin's cock still being pumped in and out of your throat. minjeong couldn’t care, extracting her anger out on your pussy, stretching it wide open for her own sick pleasure. she scoffed,
“not so talkative now, are you?” she mocks, her hands gripping the sides of your hips, nails digging into your flesh as she jolts her hips which caused her tip to ram into the entrance of your cervix. fuck.. and it hurt like hell. never being filled up by something so large, your eyes begin to roll back, and you begin to scream around jimin's cock.
both of them showed absolutely no mercy, using your body as if it was a toy for their pleasure. being used in such a way made you feel heated, your stomach tightening as they continue to force themselves into your holes.
minjeong moaned out, her nails digging deeper and deeper into your flesh, almost breaking it. your tight cunt clamping down so hard on her cock threw her into a frenzy- she observes your face with hearts in her eyes, she never felt this powerful before, god… even her movements sped up- there was a husky rasp to her moans, it even seemed animalistic.
and there was jimin, gripping your hair in a messy ponytail just so that she can ruthlessly fuck your mouth. with the amount that she was tugging and pulling on your head, you could assume that your head was throbbing in pain- assuming anyways, because you were feeling strangely good that you most likely ignored the pain.
as planned, they continue their assault on you. pussy already stretched out and abused, and your jaw began to ache.
enough of that jimin thought. although she enjoyed your warm throat, mouth and tongue working magic on her cock, she couldn’t forget that this was your punishment. the palm of her hand pushed your forehead, prompting you to lay back down, head meeting the soft pillows. you fell with a light thud- now due to the fact that you had nothing in your mouth to keep you quiet, and the way that minjeong was still pummelling into your pussy raw, you had no other choice but to cry out loud… not in a ‘save me, help me!’ way, it was more like a “fuck, fuck- mmnngh… w-wait- feels ah..!?” type of way.
jimin looked at her younger step sibling. she knew minjeong was too heated to even think about the punishment. she clicked her tongue in annoyance.
minjeongs fingers made their way to your clit, toying and rubbing with the sensitive nub. it only pushed you to moan even louder, the first time you’d have someone play with your clit.. waves of pleasure washed over your body causing you to wriggle around. seemed like jeongie was a little pussy drunk, actually no, she was pussy drunk. every pound forced your cunt to the best fucktoy for her. at this point her sweat dripped down from her temple to the side of her face with how fucking fast her hips were going.
jimin stood for a moment- thats when it struck her, another great plan came to mind. she kneeled on top of your bed, making it creak a little, shuffling a little closer to where minjeong was positioned, she whispered something sinister into her ears.
“get up-“ jimin ordered with an authoritative voice “stand up y/n” you winced, hissing out in pain as minjeong carelessly pulls her cock out with a little-
“mmm.. now? oh yeah, okay…” jeongie thankfully takes the cuffs off. thank god she did because the pain from the hard ass metal had you rubbing your wrist, a slightly deep and red mark sat on your skin.
“y/n, stand up” jimin ordered once again.
coughing out, voice hoarse “…fuck no… n-not gonna”
“still talking back?” minjeong sneered. now both of them are pretty strong- being able to toss you across the room for shits and giggle.. but not so much shits and giggles when you’re forced to stand up, seized inbetween jimins strong grip, both hands around your bare shoulders. she momentarily gawked between your legs, she snickered-
“lowlife stealing bitch and now a whore even though you were a virgin… you honestly deserve this” all at once her dick pierces your cunt, her erratic movements earning a guttural moan that came straight out your throat. following jimin, minjeong came from behind, lifting your leg into the air so that she could make room for herself.
“don’t…!? you’re gonna b-break me- i can’t fit both in me.. wait, please pleaseplease anything but this- please!?!” teasing her dick at your entrance, basking in the feeling of your wet pussy again. jimins thick cock was bigger than you’d anticipated- but having minjeong’s in your cunt as well would surely leave you unable to walk. not like they cared…
ramming both at different speeds caused you to lose control of everything. unable to adjust to their length, your hands instinctively search for something to grab ,because really.. who can function normally with two girthy dicks stuffed inside of their virgin pussy.
if one of them pumped in, the other one pumped out. an endless stream of violent railing that turned your brain to mush. beyond saving, and beyond speech- nothing more than gargled moans and incoherent mumbles fell from your mouth. so, so intense that you felt like your body was giving in-
being dehumanised and degraded and only made for jiminjeongs use. you hated that you learned to love it.
jimin threw her head back, her mouth agape moaning at how stuffed your pussy was and how much of a cock slut you were. hips snapping each time she felt like you weren’t reacting the way she wanted. huffing each time she felt close- her plan wasn’t completed yet and because of that she had to restrain from shooting her load into your womb.
minjeong bit down on your shoulder, marking you everywhere she could- only because she could take a couple more pictures later and use that as blackmail and definitely not her own personal use. she nuzzled herself into the crook of your neck- leaving dark bruises scattered across your nape.
you wrap your arms around jimins neck “feel- feel weird… haa.. mmngh-“ you squeezed your eyes shut, your body tensed, you heard the two of them pant in your ear, jimins low moaning reverberating in your head and minjeong high pitched whimpers suggested that they were as close as you were.
“take it- fuck,, take it all you filthy whore” jimin snapping her hips as she fills your entire cunt with her semen. not even a second later, minjeong ejaculates as well, she squeals and bites into your neck, both hers and jimins legs shaking from the harsh orgasm. you follow in their pleasure, letting out a strangled moan, head slumping backwards into minjeong as your body falls limp.
they leave you afterwards, letting you lay weakly on the floor “what happens here, stays here. if you tell anyone we’ll know.. oh and those pics will be posted” walking out the door as if nothing ever happened. and yet you’re laying down on your carpet cunt filled up with a mixture of their semen leaking out.
hmm… guess you’ll have to piss them off again. who knows what they’ll do to you.
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HELP IDK HOW TO FEEL ABT THIS? THOUGHTS????
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Text
All Thanks to You - T.Nott
Summary - At first, Theo found her gifts sweet and kind but the longer they went on the more they annoyed him. He had the false assumption that she was chasing after his money and status but he was very wrong. He didn't realize how wrong he was until he overhears her sticking up for him in library.
Pairings - Theo Nott x Fem!Reader
Warnings - Use of Y/N, female reader, profanity, stress
Author's Note - I'm getting through all of my requests slowly but surely, this will probably be my first and last post of the day. I'll try my best to keep banging these out but unfortunately today was my last day of spring break and my vacation from work. Thank you for being patient!
Based off the request by an anon
Expect delays in my posting! My semester has started and I am taking 4 classes! Please be patient with me!
My requests are open!
my masterlist
Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!
Enjoy!
It was almost disgustingly obvious how much she liked Theo, except to the boy himself. It had taken him ages to figure it all out. He thought it was weird at first, he was always getting baked treats, a seat saved, books that he ended up loving and notes sent to him. Then, it started to annoy him, he thought that she was just trying to get to him because of his status and money. That of course wasn’t her intention but he didn’t figure that one out until he overheard a conversation, one revolving around him and all of his flaws and untrue rumors.
He was about to jump in himself until the sweet voice of the girl sending him all of these good things chimed in. 
“That’s not true at all. Theo is so kind and sweet. He cares so much about his friends and only acts cold to people like you because you believe and spread all of these bullshit lies. He’s not rude, he’s not unnerving, he especially isn’t ugly or gross to girls. He’s sweet and kind and loving and a great person and if you can’t see that, then don’t consider me your friend anymore,” She ranted before packing up her books and walking away, not expecting to bump into the boy himself. “Oh shit, I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going, I’ll get out of your way.”
“Wait,” He pleaded, having every expectation of her walking away but she stopped in her tracks and turned to face him, “Thank you for sticking up for me. I know I said your gifts were annoying but I don’t really think that. I honestly thought you were after me for money or to boost your status or something, I shouldn’t have assumed that.”
“No, you shouldn’t have. You’re a good person Theo. I’d love to talk more but I really have to go study for the potions exam,” She told him.
“Study with me, I have an O in the class, I can help you.” The smile on her face brightened the room, making his heart skip a beat, a smile finding its way onto his own lips.
“Okay! I know the best spot in the library,” She chirped, grabbing his hand and leading him to the top floor into a quiet corner. The two of them studied together for nearly an hour before she spoke again, “How in the fuck do you make a draught of the living dead again? I can’t remember anything right now, my brain is fried,” She groaned, resting her forehead on crossed arms.
“You need a break, love. Let’s go to the kitchen and get some food from the house elves,” Theo offered.
“Won’t we get in trouble?”
“No, I’m friends with the prefects on duty, let’s go before they change shifts.”
The whole way down to the kitchen, the two were holding hands, neither of them had even noticed until Draco stopped them in the stairwell leading down to their destination. “What do we have here? The infamous Theodore Nott holding hands with his admirer?”
“Oh shove off, we need you to cover the kitchen while we get food,” Theo told his friend, still holding onto her hand even though they were caught.
“What’s in it for me?” Draco asked.
Before Theo could open his mouth, Y/N answered, “Pumpkin pasties, green apples and cauldron cakes. I see you eating those a lot so I assume you like them?”
“You assume correctly, fine, let’s go lovebirds.”
Holding up her end of the promise, she got Draco his favorite sweets, snacking with the two Slytherin boys. The blond boy had taken a liking to her, finding her genuine, funny and observational. The bond between Theo and Y/N had grown and only got stronger by the day. It was no surprise to any of their friends when they started dating not long after studying together. 
They continued to have study dates until the day of the Potions exam. She was extremely nervous and Theo was nervous for her. They didn’t get to see each other until dinner that day. Taking her usual spot next to Theo at the Slytherin table, casually sliding a paper to him. He furrowed his eyebrows before opening the paper, the red ink stared him right in the face.
“You got an O?! Bellissima, that's amazing! I’m so proud of you!” Theo exclaimed as he hugged her tightly, placing kisses on her head.
“All thanks to you, handsome,” She smiled at him.
Theo kissed her deeply on her lips causing groans and gags around them. Neither of them having a care in the world other than her O.
417 notes · View notes
minarinnn · 5 months
Note
girl dinner anon here please can I have more crumbs of Kunigami and Barou your writing for them was so good and I haven’t seen anything new for them in a while 😭🙏
I dunno if I want anything specific- maybe like breeding or something but you can do whatever your heart desires desires 🙏🙏🙏🙏
OMG I ENJOYED WRITING THAT SM NGL, this took longer than expected but honestly it’s bc i kinda forgot to post it so yh sorry for the delay lmao
content/trigger warnings: afab! reader, characters are aged up, breeding, mentions of pregnancy, pregnancy kink, degrading, praising, groping, rough sex, implied size kink
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BAROU
barou always pulled out. he didn’t mind it. there was never any real desire to get you pregnant. that was until he saw you with his baby nephew at a family event. the kid was around 2 years old and you spent almost the whole night fussing over him
you played, fed, and even cuddled with him. he saw his nephews sleeping figure in your arms as your soft hands caressed his back. he doesn’t know why but barou felt all tingly inside. he never had the urge to do it but the thought of you carrying a kid that looks exactly like him turned him on immensely
so when you get to your shared apartment and barou pounces on you, you think nothing of it. you’re like putty in his big, rough hands. you really couldn’t get enough of him
the way his dick stretched you out perfectly, bruising your cervix as you moaned out his name. your pretty nails scratching and leaving marks along his back while his heavy balls smacked against your ass
your eyes rolling back over his rough pacing that immediately makes you go dumb on his fat cock. his hands groping all over your body as he growls lewd things in your ears that make you clench impossibly harder on his dick
“it hasn’t even been ten minutes and you’re already dumb on my cock, huh? you pretty little slut” the words making you whine and your eyes water. “i’m gonna fuck my baby into you” he grunted, reaching deeper into your soaking cunt “you’d like that, wouldn’t you pretty?”
you nod, babbling incoherent words as your second orgasm washed over you, making you buck your hips towards him. “i’m’a make you a fuckin’ mommy” is the last thing he said before dumping his seed into your cunt, thrusting it deep into you, making you take every single drop
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KUNIGAMI
kunigami has always been a big family guy so the though of having a family of his own always excited him. but when you said you didn’t wanna have kids yet, he respected it. though he did have the habit of asking questions like ‘when do you think you’ll be ‘ready?’ ‘how many do you wanna have?’ ‘do you want any at all?’
so when you told him you were getting off the pill, not because you wanted children, but because of the side effects that came with it, he was oddly weird about it. maybe it was because he enjoyed cumming inside of you and now he had to pull out
the next few times go by with him pulling out, he didn’t like doing it, but he respected you and your wishes. as much as he’d like to dump his cum into you like he used to, he knew he had to restrain himself
but when the words “im ready” and “please cum inside” slip out of your mouth while he’s pounding his dick into you, he goes feral. his pace immediately picks up, making you moan in pleasure as his thrust went from gentle and loving to rough and quick
kunigami’s mind was filled with images of your belly growing and your boobs heavy and sore. the thought of you carrying his baby just fueled him to the max
you could feel his dick twitching within your gummy walls as his lips feverishly kissed along your entire body, his thumb rubbing circles on your thigh. “you’re gonna be such a good mommy” his sweet words contrasted his rough pace. you could feel his big cock pushing past your cervix and his breeder balls smacking against your plush ass
with a few more thrust and a few whines, he painted your walls white. resting his sweaty body on top of yours while he kissed your shoulder. both your chest’s heaving up and down while your hand roamed his fluffy orange hair
“i hope we have twins”
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© MINARINNN 2023 - please do not plagiarize or upload my content on any social media platform.
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moonsaver · 2 months
Note
hi!! i just wanted to say that the way that you write yandere characters is very unique and frankly amazing. like i love the fact that you don't make them overly violent like other people have and i also like how you have written the mc.
can i make a request of nsfw headcannons with yan!aventurine with female reader? thank you so much. have a great day!!!
Hello anon! Thank you for the feedback. Sorry i delayed your request so much, haha.
– fem-bodied reader, but mainly referred to as "you", no pronouns.
Nsfw below the cut!
Honestly? Yan!Aventurine is so damn pathetic. He's so used to feeling unwanted and repulsed by, so he's constantly begging on his knees for your affection. It starts out as a facade of confidence, but when you keep denying and shifting away from him, it snaps something, and he's on his knees, needy and desperate compromises, offering to do whatever you want – you want him to dom you? Tie you down and fuck you mindless? He'll do it! You want him to sub? He'll take it! You can fuck him silly and pull his hair back as harshly as you want, just please let him touch you and be touched by you.
Practically, it's absolute desperate sex
If you're still hesitant, and keep refusing him, keep telling him you don't want to do it, he'll just take it into his own hands
You definitely aren't disgusted by him, right? Definitely not! No, no, he can't allow that. You just have a hard time choosing! It's okay, it's alright! He understands! His own needy and desperate begging soon drowns out your own pleading for him to stop, and he thinks maybe he should just fuck you and let you know just how good he can make you feel. Both of your cries turn into moaning into each other's mouths, sooner or later.
Fingering? It's almost his favourite thing to do. He goes so mercilessly fast, his fingers plunging deep into your sopping wet cunt. If it's not wet enough or he hasn't done any foreplay, it's alright! He'll spit on it, and coat his fingers with his saliva. Stop squirming! He's taking such good care of you! Makes you squirt and cum so hard, but your desperate, incoherent babbling makes him think he's not done just enough, and keeps scissoring your swollen cunt all nice and deep, rubbing your clit, his eyes obsessively scanning the weak twitching and arching of your body, an almost psychotic and delusional smile on his face as he watches your body reach it's nth climax, curling his fingers in just the right spot, your face contorting into such a pretty expression, just as he wanted it to happen. Finally, he asks you if it was enough, licking your slick off of his fingers while looking into your eyes. He can always please you more, you know?
Penetration is almost similar to fingering. Or it's the complete opposite. The junction of that decision mainly happens when his tip is inside of you, and he's asking you all sorts of things, describing the things he wants to do to you in detail, rubbing your swollen tits so nicely, until you writhe under him. Oh? Sorry, he can't let you go! You probably don't want to, you just dont know how good he can fuck you! And he does just that. 
If you're not so fucked out until you cant think, he goes fast and hard, loud slapping noises bounce off the walls, his dick hits you g-spot so hard and nice it makes you see stars. His smile is so wide and cocky when he sees your dazed expression, and he only goes faster, moaning and whining into your ear, telling you just how good you're taking him, that he'll take such good care of you, he loves you so so much and, his own whining and talking is interrupted by a loud moan, as his cum shoots into you, hot and sloshing into your cunt. He relaxes for a bit, whining more into your ear before his hasty and sloppy pace picks up, hitting you hard and fast all over again, relishing the feeling of his cum mix with your slick and drip down onto the bed.
If you're already dazed and overstimulated, he's very loving. Cooing softly at you as he fucks you all nice and slow, dragging his throbbing length against your gummy walls, telling you how lucky he is to have you, asking you desperately what you want, want him to go faster? Slower? Do you like it? Why aren't you answering? Oh well, he guesses he just has to fuck you better. Keeps going slow until your climax is absolutely on the edge of crashing down on you, and then rams himself into you, moaning like a bitch into your ear when he cums inside of you
Absolute oral fixation. If he doesn't force your first time in bed with him into fingering you, it's eating you out like he's drunk on your slick.
Desperately begs into your ear to let him taste you, asks you to suffocate him, ride him or just use him, just please let him taste your sweet cum on his tongue! He begs and begs until he just can't take it and pushes you to the nearest cushioned surface, rips off whatever clothing you have and absolutely devours you. Sucks on your clit desperately and moans when you squirm and pull on his hair to try and get him off of you. Fingers roughly and sloppily plunge into you, his tongue desperately circling your swollen bud, and once he's drawn enough slick from your pussy, replaces his fingers with his tongue and almost buries his face into it. Makes you squirt and cum so hard on his face, and likes it even more when you make a mess. Looks up at you with needy, love-struck eyes, slick dripping down his chin as he asks you if you enjoyed it. If you don't respond, or are too busy catching your breath, he just dives back in and makes you cum even more on his face.
---
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I’m literally BEGGING a Vanessa x fem!reader where Vanessa gets jelly and it ends up in rough/angry sex
You DO Own Me
Vanessa Shelly/Afton x Fem Reader
PLUS this request: “Can we get Vanessa fucking y/n roughly? Like pulling hair, biting neck and scratching back type of rough?”
a/n: yessir 😜 merged this request with another anon as they coincide… sorry for the delay in fics. I am still sick but that not my excuse: my excuse is I'm lazy lol. This may be shit, sorry ;')
Content/Warnings: Top/Rough Vanessa, Bottom sub reader, smut, choking, strap use [r receiving], rough sex, not proofread/edited, Vanessas kind of an asshole but that's hot
w/c: 2024
The ride home was silent. Well, not completely. Though Vanessa was extremely unimpressed, her lips pressed together and her hands gripping the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turned white, you were having the time of your life. Under the influence of alcohol, you were giddy and chatty, oblivious to your girlfriend's simmering anger beside you.
“And I literally told Mike that he was insane for thinking those robots cut him in his sleep, but of COURSE he decided to ignore me and continued to take those pills. I mean, really? The poor man is half asleep most of the time!”, you huff, recalling your last shift. “What do you think?”, you turn to Vanessa, your half dazed, half-blushed face informing her that you really did have no idea that she was mad.
“Mm”, she replied, uninterested. You, again, didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. “I know! Maybe I should replace them with some melatonin gummies.. He probably wouldn’t notice”, you giggle, rolling down the front window to breathe. Fanning yourself, the alcohol making you overheated, you gaze at the stars outside in awe. The outdoors really does hit differently when you’re drunk. Unbeknownst to you, Vanessa was seconds from snapping. Pulling into the driveway of your shared home and parking her personal vehicle beside her cop car, she immediately stepped outside as soon as the gas turned off and slammed the door shut, ignoring your own door and walking to the front of the house. You frown, beginning to zone back in.
“Maybe she just forgot”, you think, in reference to her not racing to open your door or offering to carry you inside as she usually would. Stumbling out of the car, you follow behind her into the house. “Vanessa?”, you ask aloud, wondering where she disappeared to in the span of two seconds. Pausing, you try to listen for any footsteps around the house for any indication of her location. Nothing. “Vanessa? Baby?”, you repeat, concerned now. Half limping, you shrug off your jacket and kick off your heels, wandering around the house. Finally, in the corner of your eye, you see the upstairs office light getting turned on.
Sprinting up the stairs, going as fast as your tipsy body would allow you to, you head for the office. Before you could open the door you heard a mumbling sound. Cracking the door open, you witness your girlfriend pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance, talking to someone on the phone.
“Yes, yes. I understand. I just thought- no thank you. I’ll be alright. Sorry for the misunderstanding”, Vanessa answered someone on the line, grinding her teeth when she saw you enter. “Thank you. Have a good one”, she hung up the phone, turning away from you and leaning against the desk.
“Vanessa? What’s wrong?”, you whisper. She snorted.
“What? Now you notice?”, she spits, still not turning around.
You bit your lip, anxious at her reply. “What was the phone call about?”
“Work. Nothing for you to worry about”, she then laughs. “Not that you were, to begin with”. She leans over the desk, reaching for a pen and paper to jot something down, and you try to not let your mind race with thoughts of her rolling her hips forward as you can tell she needs comfort right now, not a horny girlfriend.
You walk towards her nervously. “Are you okay baby? You were fine in the car-”
She snaps at you. “No. I wasn’t. If you weren’t so lightweight you would know that”. Stillness filled the air, the only noise coming from the scribbles of the pen as Vanessa jotted down the information from the phone call.
Coming up behind her, you gently place your hand on the back of her arm. “Is this- is this about Mike?”, you watch her jaw clench from the side. Blinking in surprise, you reiterate. “It is? Isn’t it?”
“Drop it”, Vanessa scowls, shoving herself off the table. Your foggy brain couldn’t help but think ‘muscle memory’ with the way she practically ground against it in annoyance.
“Are you serious? He’s a respectful guy! His old crush means nothing”, you protest.
“Nothing? You make me sick”
“What do you want from me? For me to spit on him and never talk to him again?”, you snap, frustrated now.
She crosses her arms. “Preferably”, she snickers. She comes closer to you. “Or maybe you like the attention? Hm?”
You pull away, hurt. You’d like to believe she was drunk saying this, but she was completely sober. “Vanessa-”
“Poor you, huh? Do I not give you enough attention? Is my poor baby always so needy”, she mocked, snarling.
You blink away tears and begin to walk out of the office when you feel a gust of wind and a sudden thud against your back. Gasping, you slam into the wall, your head narrowly missing the collision. Before you could turn around, you felt Vanessa pin your hands behind your back, her cuffs clenching around your wrists and shutting with a loud ‘click’.
“What the fuck Van-FUCK”, your sentence gets cut off as you hear a loud smack; Vanessa had just hit your ass. You feel numb for a few seconds, and then everything after that. You whine out, trying to cover yourself as she grabs your cuffed wrists and pins them above your head, her other hand coming around your waist to arch your back towards her. “Always whining. Never taking what I give you”. She slaps you again, the force of her hand biting your skin, surely leaving red marks that would turn purple tomorrow. You bite your lip, pain, and pleasure fighting to take over your emotions. You settle on both and she digs into your scalp, raising you up to her. You whimper out as she turns your head to the side and begins to suck at the front of your neck. Your life flashes before your eyes; having to walk in tomorrow at Freddy’s, a hickey so prominent that any efforts to hide it with makeup make it look evening trashier, and Mike seeing exactly what she did to you. You never understood her anger when it came to Mike; she liked him well enough. You just were never allowed to talk to him, apparently.
“Vanessa, please”, you whisper as she bites the side of your neck, pain seeping in. Squirming, she finally releases you. You flop against the wall, breathing heavily as she stares you down.
“Look at you”, she hisses. Everything about Vanessa commanded respect. Not one part of her demonstrated sex except for her slightly flushed cheeks and large pupils. Her hair was perfectly in place, her shirt was properly ironed. You, on the other hand, were tied up, beaten, and most definitely not commanding respect. It was exactly how Vanessa liked it on days like this.
She leans forward, tangling her hands gently in your hair. She tugs on your strands gently, lulling you into a false sense of security as you close your eyes, content. You should have known it wouldn’t last. “Pathetic, you are”, she says. Suddenly, she drags you to the office desk, making you gasp out in pain, flinging your hands to hers in a poor attempt to release her grip. Shoving you over the desk, she had you right where she wanted you in the first place; bent over and tied. “What, you thought I was going to treat you?”, she laughs. You stutter, words being unable to properly form. “Nothing happened! You were there the whole time! Why am I being punished for your jealousy issues?”, you yell out as she begins to scratch your back deeply. Her nails dig into your skin, fire spreading everywhere you touch. Wailing and twitching in her grasp, you hear her from behind. “Stupid girl. So disappointing when you act out against me”, she taps on the handcuffs. “Are you forgetting who protects you? I can harm you instead if you want baby, just ask”. She pauses, waiting for your reply. Nothing.
She smiles. You can feel the cockiness being emitted without even seeing her. Instead, you intently stare at the table, wishing you were in bed right now instead of feeling the humiliation of your girlfriend lifting up your skirt to check your panties.
The cold table was a harsh polarity to your pussy; you hated how your pussy was throbbing faster than your heart. Vanessa hummed from behind you, clearly amused and proud of you. Leaning over you, the shape of her breasts being felt against your back despite her clothing, she whispers a soft “I love how much of a whore you are”, before standing back up and softly grinding her front against your bare ass. You widen your eyes as you feel something hard press against you. You love how hot and cold Vanessa can be. No matter how rough and angry she can get, she can never resist treating you first.
The sound of her unzipping her pants was as close as you were ever going to get to hearing church bells. Hell, even angels singing couldn’t replicate the sound of her strap slapping your pussy. Shutting your eyes, your brace yourself against the table, moaning as her cock dipped into your soft entrance.
“You think you deserve this?”, she asks, moving your hair back with her hands, a gesture she couldn’t help doing. Not when she knew you did nothing wrong.
You nod desperately, grinding your ass back into her strap, your pussies walls clenching around nothing in a desperate attempt for friction.
Vanessa stayed silent as she plunged her cock into your pussy. You, however, most definitely did not. Your screams filled the quaint neighbourhood as she thrusted into you at a brutal pace that didn’t account for your lack of adjustment. Your hands gripped anything on the table in sight, your body becoming simultaneously needy and overstimulated. “P-please Vanessa slow- oh FUCK yes-”, you cry out, conflicted with the pain.
She rakes her hands over your ass, switching between slapping your reddened cheeks and clawing at your lower back. Hearing her deep, ragged breaths, you knew she was close; the strap hit her clit at every thrust, making her let out lowly strained moans. “Van-”, you roll your eyes back, your vision turning white. She was hitting your gummy walls so right that it felt insane. Your arousal was streaming down the table and her legs, which Vanessa acknowledged by letting out a snort.
“Need to come, baby?”, she hummed. You whine, grinding back. You needed this release so badly; anything Vanessa had told you had already been forgiven.
“V- nessa I need to.. Please”, you bite your lip and squint your eyes, begging yourself to not release before she allowed you to do so. You couldn’t risk more punishment. She sighed as if thinking about it. She sped up the pace, pounding the strap in a way that made it ten times more pleasurable for her as it did for you.
As your fingers grabbed at the table, she let out the smallest whimper that made you go feral. You pleaded, over and over again, to come. You felt extremely betrayed and turned on as Vanessa slumped forward, her chest heaving from cumming quietly. “Oh y/n”, she moaned, “Cum now baby”, she snaked her arm around your waist to bring your ass up even higher as you came with a loud cry.
You let go of the table, your body now going limp. “Vanessa”, you sigh, unable to move. Despite your comfortable position, consisting of you flopping across the table and Vanessa holding you loosely with her strap still half inside of you, she pulls out and forcefully slips you over way too soon for your brain. The pleasure was turning into pain again, and you hiss as your ass makes contact with the table, the marks making it unbearable.
“Don’t think this is over”, she murmurs as you pull her closer.
You look at her, confused.
“It’s only 1 am. If you think I’m done with you, you are sorely mistaken”
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faulty-writes · 6 months
Note
Headcanons for Izuku, Tenya, and Mirio taking a nice, relaxing bath with the reader for the first time? There's just something so domestic and intimate about it!
[ Hello anon. A nice relaxing bath sounds wonderful, sign me up! Not sure who I'd want to take it with though, hah. I hope you enjoy these headcanons! ]
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When you suggested taking a bath together, Izuku's face turned red and his hand fisted into his shirt as he tried to blurt out an answer. "I…uh y-you, I t-together um…" He was at a loss for words, but you did not take offense. After all, he was a shy individual.
He agrees after some convincing, and before you can even enter the tub, he ensures that the water temperature is comfortable for both of you before shyly looking away when you begin to remove your clothes. As soon as he enters the bathtub, he becomes shy again despite your efforts to encourage him that everything is alright and that he can look at you.
"Um s-sorry I, uh, d-do you have enough r-room?" He asked, wanting to provide you with enough space as you enjoyed your first bath together. You appreciated his concern but preferred to remain close to him so that the intimate feeling lingered.
"I-is this okay?" he asked, gently stroking your back with his fingers. A content smile adorned your face as you leaned over the bathtub edge, enjoying the well-deserved massage and the faint sound of the water swishing in the tub.
The subtle moments of silence throughout the bath caused him to feel somewhat uncomfortable. However, doing this with you was a pleasant change of pace. There is something so intimate and yet so innocent about it.
Izuku's shyness had worn off toward the end of the bath. There was such a sense of peace and tranquility as he leaned against the back of the tub with his arms wrapped securely around you, even as the water grew colder.
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Tenya was initially uncertain about your request. "Forgive me, is this truly appropriate? I understand that intimate moments are expected in romantic relationships. However, are you certain this particular activity is what you wish to participate in?" He did not envision taking a bath with you, but he was willing to participate if you so desired.
As he prepared the bath, he ensured that the water temperature was perfect and that the bath salts he had poured into the bath to aid relaxation and comfort were dissolved properly. Furthermore, he ensured that the towels were properly folded, and placed near the tub so that there were no tripping hazards. In addition, he ensured that the soap and washcloths were readily available.
Considering his manners, it was understandable that he was reluctant to expose his body to you and refused to look at your body until it was hidden under the water. Despite this, he found himself relaxing, at least a little bit, as the soothing hot water surrounded him.
Tenya engaged in conversation despite knowing that this was intended to be an intimate moment since he was not in favor of the silence that lingered between you two. "Is the water temperature to your liking? I can adjust it accordingly if you wish," he desired that this moment be perfect for you.
As he continues to avoid your gaze, he reminds himself that it is inappropriate to stare at your body in such a manner. Nevertheless, he insisted upon washing you and making sure that your neck, back, and arms were clean.
Tenya suggested doing some post-bath stretches and minor exercises after the bath had ended. Although you were not thrilled with this, you were aware that Tenya followed a strict healthy lifestyle that included regular exercise.
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The idea of taking a bath together immediately appeals to him. "Wow, I didn't know you wanted to take our relationship to the next level, but it sounds awesome! Heh, let's do it sunshine!" He drags you to the bathroom without delay.
Because of his quirk, he is quite comfortable being naked and has no qualms about removing his clothes before filling the tub. He did this as usual with a smile on his face and a sense of eagerness in his eyes.
"Hah, hah. Got you!" Mirio smiled as he splashed water at you again, seemingly intending to encourage you to engage in a splash war. Even when you were doing something as simple as soaking in the tub together, it was pleasant to have a little fun now and then.
"There you go! Heh, stay still now!" He instructed as he poured water over your head, washing away the shampoo he had just applied. "Now…" He paused and grabbed a washcloth soaked in soap. "Lift your arms!" he commanded enthusiastically, causing the water to swish and drip over the side of the tub.
Even after he had washed your hair and body, you were hesitant to cuddle with him and it didn't take him long to figure that out. Regardless, he would not allow your shyness to stand in his way and instead, wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his face into your wet locks when you least expected it.
Upon noticing that the water was becoming cold, he suggested ending the bath and draining the water before exiting. As you attempted to do the same, he wrapped a towel around you and lifted you into his arms. "Walking back wouldn't make much of a special pampering, would it?" he joked.
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d0llcherry · 23 days
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Yan! Miss circle w/ a fem!teacher reader when?💪🏻🔥🔥 (I'm so sorry I'm getting interested in how you write😢)
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✮⋆˙HOTLINE BLING ୨୧
Yandere Miss Circle x Fem Teacher Reader
A/N:YESS, I AM BITING THE BARS OF MY CAGE, TYY ANON ‼️‼️‼️‼️ 💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼 MY LIST IS NOW COMPLETE, also, sorry for the delay, i went to hang out with some friends and also, THANK YOU!!! IM SO HAPPY PPL LIKE MY WRITING
Tw: Yandere topics, killing mentions, descriptive gore, toxic relationship, breaking bones mentions, Remember: Yanderes can be extremely dangerous! do not approach nor interact with people who acts like this towards you.
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✮⋆˙ Okay, this was probably love at first sight, i just see Miss Circle as someone hard to get a crush but when she gets it, its probably love at first sight and she would be REALLY obsessed with her crush, she would probably the 2nd worst yandere to have in the school. (along with ms grace, Alice is the 1st)
✮⋆˙ Miss Circle shows lots of signals and obvious hints that she loves you and that she really wants you, but she thinks she is being very discreet about it, so if you ever find an eyeball in your teacher desk written with blood: "be mine ♡" it was definitely not her.
✮⋆˙ Miss Circle would have no problem in eliminating anyone who she sees a threat or who falls in love with you and she wouldnt even try to hide it, you would just see the multilated body who was missing half of their skin of the someone who gave you a good morning too kindly.
✮⋆˙ Miss Circle is controlling, aggressive, narcissistic, mean and clingy, she would often be mean to you too, but in a passive aggressive way because thats how she shows you love, by controlling you and bully you into doing what she demanded asked and when she is not showing her love to you in words, shes just clinging into you like a cat.
✮⋆˙ Like, if you were just chilling, she would come with a ":3" face with her eyes closed and would rest her head on your shoulder, if she could purr, she would, thats probably the only way she shows love without making your mental health 5x worse.
✮⋆˙ She would kidnap you but she feels like she could break you, so she decided against it to not take the risk of losing you and your charm to insanity.
✮⋆˙ Would have no problem in teaching you a lesson if you tried to leave her, a scratch or two on your arm or leg, enough to draw blood would probably do the trick, if not, she could break some bones to make sure the letter is passed.
✮⋆˙ Miss Circle would definitely stalk you, in school, on your way home, everywhere, if she gets the possibility to, she WILL do it, she does that to make sure you are safe and of course, to admire you.
✮⋆˙ But of course, she wont stop saying and thinking that you are very lucky to he with her, someone so feared and respected because of her hostility and merciless brutality and she will say it to your face.
✮⋆˙ If you try to leave her... i dont think things will end well for you, lets say that... she thinks you are just flawless and beautiful, she needs you at all costs, but if you dont want that... well... if she cant have you... No one can.
✮⋆˙ "I love you."
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forsworned · 20 days
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That Keegan post you made had me clutching my PEARLS! Your use of words was so masterfully done! I really loved the new vocab I learned while reading your work.
Your depiction of the relationship was also so so nice. Very loving and attentive and just so sweet. I could tell they loved one another and had already established boundaries that they knew they shouldn’t cross. The ending was lovely as well, a great way to tie things up.
Thank you for writing it! I’m excited to see what else your lovely brain comes up with!
-🧢
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Whispers in the Woods: A Stranger's Shelter ft. OfftheGridCowboy!Keegan Russ
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Sypnosis: When Keegan finds you petrified, running for your life from creatures unknown to you in the Haunted Appalachia trails after sundown, he takes you in for the night. Things get a bit crazy...
Warning(s): Mentions of Sexual Content, Violence, Petnames (?), Blood, Supernatural Horror (?), Eventual Smut, Barely Proofread, Reader is 28 and Keegan is 30, Reader is also AFAB
Word Count: 7.5k (enjoy keegan lovers ;)
Author's note: Blue cap anon thank you so much for inspiring me to write for Keegan. Honestly, I really love how this fic turned out and I hope you do too. I am so sorry I took so long to reply to you but you seriously warmed my heart so sosososo much when I read your message. I did not mean to put you on the back burner for this long/ Just know I have put so much effort into this to provide you a solid work so I hope that is a good enough excuse to have such a delayed response. Also so glad that you learned some new words LOL that really tickles me tbh, but I want to work more with the relationship that reader builds with Keegan in general or with any character x reader I write. So please enjoy this :)
edit: i think it's lowkey not living up to my expectations but ummm fuck it we ball
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Sparks fly as the firewood in the pit crackles, casting an orange ember over you and the stranger sitting in front of you. His eyes, reminiscent of the cool, blueness of winter are lingering on you, and his heavy, leather jacket drapes over your shoulders to shield you from the chilliness of the early April evening. With his black cowboy hat slightly tilted upward, you note the black bandana covering most of his face, adding an air of mystery to his appearance.
"You really shouldn't be out here." His voice edges a precarious tone, though you cannot determine if it's toward you or whatever lurks in the abysmal woods. Maybe it was both. Your fingers curl around the distressed tanned hide, fiddling with the stitching of the material. A shudder careens through the columns of your spine, goosebumps trail over your skin, and the fuzz across your neck rises briefly.
"Don't look. Don't even acknowledge it." He instructs, steadying his gaze on you as he tinkers with the butterfly knife in his gloved hand. "W-what?" You gasp out, eyes reaming as your quivering vision sets on the embers of the pyre. A sinister presence harks over your convulsing body, heart palpitating out of your tightening sternum. But as soon as it arrives it departs and you're left heaving for the oxygen that was stripped from your lungs.
"I'm not gonna ask you again, what are you doin' walkin' around aimlessly in these mountains?" He repeatedly latches and unlatches the metal object in his hands, his gaze fixates on you. Truthfully, you were lost. When the engine of the old Dodge that you inherited from your grandfather abruptly cut out as you passed through a dead zone, it was all hauling ass from there on out. Classic damsel in distress situation.
Your father and he had both warned you about the Appalachian mountains. How apex predators inhabited the woods, preying on the innocent, ripping flesh apart on sight, or disappearing into the ghastly woods to never return. But, of course, you wrote it off as fearmongering. Never had you experienced the soul-crushing, harrowing existence of unidentified, cryptids lurking within the lacunas of the evergreens.
"My truck it—" You start to say, but the sound of him exhaling loudly cuts you off and you glance up at him with misery strewn across your features. Doe-eyes glimmering from the wetness that was welling in your oculars as your lips tremble. He outstretches his arm to the lantern on the perched log, "I've heard enough."
He begins to get up, extinguishing the flame, smothering it with what seemed to be a bag of salt and you felt fear creeping back into your system.
"Come on." As the pyre's embers fade, the lantern's switch emits a squeak, coaxing the oil flame to life, while the blood-curdling shrieks send shivers down your spine, ringing in your ears. And as if on cue, you cling to his side and he lets out a soft huff, feeling your arm coil around his.
The inferno acts as a bulwark from whatever is skulking around the both of you in the obscurity of the night as you move through the forest. You catch glimpses of shadows trekking about, seemingly running away from you now. A stark contrast from the previous frantic sprint through the woods in your petite, white frilly prairie dress that was now tattered at the edges and puffy sleeves. Now, you were safe. At least you certainly hope so.
A tiny light enters your line of sight in the distance, and you can only assume that that is his home. But you were still heeding the noises and images being molded in front of human eyes. It was as if the veil was lifted here, a supernatural existence in the vast mountains and woods of the Appalachia. You don't know whether to be terrified or fascinated, but you keep quiet as he silently leads you down the desire path to his home that is etching itself a little more into the horizon.
Approaching the home, you begin to notice the clandestine features of the house. A zephyr sweeps past you and the distinct smell of lavender and sage gently brims into your senses. You visibly shudder as the steps creak under your weight, your arm remains tucked into his own as he fishes out his keys and unlocks the door. Like a gentleman, he gestures to allow you in first and he follows closely behind, shutting it behind him.
"Shoes off at the door." He directs, treading past you as he tosses another piece of firewood into the lit fireplace.
What the fuck?
Is he just not going to acknowledge the paranormal manifestation that incurred upon them just now? The shadows of unearthly skinwalkers who infest the woods, who are prowling out there now as they barricade themselves from the outside? What is stopping them from forcefully intruding into his home?
You finally catch your breath for a moment, still feeling your heart hammering against your chest before you speak. "Are we not going to talk about what we just saw?"
"Nope." He simply replies, from another room and you blink back in surprise. Then it sinks in.
Of course, how could you forget? How can you forget the rules of the Appalachia, that were engrained into you as a child?
If you see something strange in the wilderness, no, you didn't.
If you hear something call your name, no, you didn't.
If you hear screaming in the Appalachian mountains, especially a woman's scream, no, you didn't. 
If you feel something stalking you, do not run.
Never, ever, whistle at night. 
Never go into the woods at night.
Never leave your windows open at night, even in the summer and honestly, the list dragged on and on and on.
Most of it falls on deaf ears never believing in the legends, and yet, here you are shaken up by things you never thought existed in a stranger's home who found it in his heart to shelter you until what you suppose would be dawn.
A wavering breath escapes you as you take a long gander at the well-maintained colonial home. The timeless and heirloom quality of the home becomes evident upon analyzing the vast array of paintings and framed photographs adorning the walls, each depicting individuals with strikingly similar features—dark brows, thick lashes, and mesmerizing steely blue eyes that seemed to penetrate your soul. You can't quite make out the framed artwork through your muzzy vision, but it's eerie the way you can't quite pinpoint why the face was so recognizable to you.
Exposed wooden ceiling beams motion your eyes to the inherited items and the mounted deer skull above the hearth. The warmth emanating from it felt different, soothing, lulling your quivery limbs. You oblige and kick off your boots, padding behind him as he draws out his gun from his holster and places it on the mahogany table. He removes his cowboy hat, hanging it on the horseshoe hat rack adjacent to the fireplace revealing his tousled short black locks. As he begins to unmask himself, a small gasp leaves your lips, fixating on his newly exposed features. And he was goddamn handsome and unusually reminiscent of someone from your childhood embarked into the backlogs of your memory, but of course, you brush it off.
And although he hears it, he does not acknowledge it as one hand grips the wooden chair and the other runs over his dark stubble. He's pensive. The last thing he needed was some heretic woman living under his roof for Lord knows how long. At this point, he decides that you are his responsibility and he cannot shirk from that for that would be unbecoming of a man like himself and he was raised better than that.
He glances up at the painting of his father above the hearth and you take note of the reflective state. His daddy was the embodiment of a Cowboy. Gentlemanly, charming, nifty, and always genial, providing the best hospitality a person could provide. No way, he'd accept Keegan kicking you to the curb, leaving you out for those creatures to rip you apart. Plus, his father would simply rise from his grave and kick his ass.
"You hungry?" He pays no mind to your lingering, bewitched eyes as he moves to the kitchen and you like a lost puppy trailing behind him. "Got some leftover potato leek soup."
And as if on cue, your stomach growls and he glances at your hand over your tummy. You flush from the embarrassment of your stomach being that raucous. He cocks a brow at you and you can't tell if he's amused or annoyed. Probably both. "Go sit." He points his chin to the table by the fireplace and you pad back to the living room, the tempering sensation of the flames causes you to become drowsy. You loll your head to analyze his stature. His figure towers over all of the antique appliances in the kitchen, muscles flexing as he prepares to reheat the soup on the stove. Rolling up his sleeves to reveal his taut, tanned forearms to open the cabinet and pull out the loaf of handmade sourdough, slicing it evenly and efficiently before tossing it in the toaster.
His form becomes a bit hazy as you lay your head against the top rail of the chair, mesmerized by the allure of his broadened shoulders, and soft pink lips that all by hide the peeking tongue indicating his concentration in preparing you a homecooked meal. Keegan never has guests over, in fact, no one is ever daft enough to come running around this way anyways because locals know better and tourists are too scared shitless to even enter this part of the Appalachia. He likes it like that, away from everything and everyone, being able to maintain his family's ranch that was inherited by him at the ripening age of 18.
His mother moved out to the suburbs because the death of his father was far too devasting on her already weary soul to continue living her days out on the farm. But Keegan doesn't mind it. He handles the livestock with ease, providing care to the birthing cattle, and maintaining the operations of the facilities as a whole to keep his honest living thriving. It's all in a good day's work for him. So caring after you shouldn't be too much of a hassle right?
You're suddenly awoken to the soft clatter of the bowl being set on the wooden table, the savory aroma of potato leek soup, and freshly toasted sourdough bread. He sets a glass of water beside you before he pulls his seat adjacent to you with his food.
"Eat." He orders, waiting for you to take a spoonful of thick soup. You hesitantly lift the spoon before glancing up at him. He blinks back at you, realizing the weight of his indiscretion, and whisks the soup with his spoon before noshing on it as if to tell you that is not poisoned nor drugged. Your other hand takes the bread in between your fingers and he mirrors your actions, claiming a bite from his own and you visibly relax.
The soup is scalding to the touch, but you welcome the sensation when you get a taste of the heavenly whipped soup. Not a single lump, just the smoothest, most savory supping of such a simple hearty soup instantly heartening your disconcerting body right down to your unsteady hand.
"I'll fix your truck as soon as dawn breaks." He flashes a glance before breaking his bread and scooping it into his soup. "Make yourself comfortable in the guest bedroom." He gestures with his hand to the upstairs.
"Oh, I couldn't—" You begin to say, but he will have none of it.
"You're not going out there until the sun's out." He replies simply, as he lifts his glass of water and sips from it. You observe the way his Adam's apple oscillates under his stubbly throat and you swallow thickly when you realize he's gazing at you keenly.
Warmth spreads to your cheeks and your eyes are now following the pattern of the wood grain. "That's…very kind of you."
"'s just the human thing to do." And there is an emphasis on the word 'human'.
You begin to play with your soup, scooping it up and letting it fall back into the bowl. "Right." Your voice is soft as you try to block out the memory just moments ago.
He narrows his eyes as if to study you. "What's your name?"
You glance up at him, and you're almost a bit hesitant to tell him. You almost want to lie, but you decide otherwise. "[Name], and yours?"
"Keegan."
"Keegan what?" You press. He raises a brow at you as he chews on his bread.
"Russ."
Russ. An esteemed surname that was echoed throughout your household during your adolescence. Presley Russ was a handsome and genial man who appeared at your father's porch steps every so often, tipping his hat at you with that charming smile and those glacial hues that made your heart jump. He'd invite your daddy out for nights at the rodeo or sipping on Highland Gaelic Ales on the porch from the afternoon til midnight, biding his time between Maryland and North Carolina.
You never quite caught glimpses of his son when you were living out on the ranch before you moved out for college, but you did remember a time when you ventured out past sunset in the abandoned village in the Black Hills you knew better than to be in when your daddy had to travel to Wheaton for the grand opening of his old buddy, Presley's restaurant accompanied by his reclusive son who you never remembered the name of. But for God's sake, who was stupid enough to go treading alone around the same location as the filming of the Blair Witch Project?
But you were a skeptic at best until you heard the unrelenting repetition of your name being called which led you astray, causing you to stumble over your own feet and ultimately collide with a rock that rendered you unconscious. Soon enough, you felt yourself being carried back to your home in the arms of the Russ boy with the hardened steely gaze that intently stared down at the knot forming on your forehead. You had never shut your eyes so quickly and the sound of his soft chuckle, caused you to be even more embarrassed as you were being handed off to your worried parents who were more than relieved and thankful to have retrieved you.
Of course, you had to act like you were unconscious. It was already humiliating enough that you were old enough to know better, but being ferried by a cute boy like you were some helpless damsel in distress was just mortifying.
But that was long forgotten by you in hazy summer days during your teen years before you went off to college and moved out into the city. In reality, you had written it off as a dream, a hallucination concocted by that vivid and graphic imagination of yours. That was always the case with you and the Appalachia. Always the non-believer.
But part of you was hoping that maybe he didn't recognize you after all this time, and yet the way he is staring you down is beginning to feel like otherwise.
"Blair." He suddenly says matter-of-factly as he taps his finger at the table and nods again. "Blair." A small toothy grin creeps on his lips before he chuckles.
Your eyes reaming as your heart drops to your stomach. "What?"
"Black Hills, you're the daughter of the farmer right up in Garrett County."
You feel the warmth blooming on your cheeks. He knew. "I—How do you remember that?"
"Knew you looked familiar." He dives back into his steaming soup. "Was tryin' to figure out where I'd seen that necklace of yours." He juts his chin, pointing to the family heirloom that kisses your clavicle. It had been passed down for generations to the women in your family as a symbol of health, wisdom and longetivity. You feel for the 20k gold pendant with lilac and sage engraved into the soft metal.
He looks as if he's stifling another snicker. "Think you pissed yourself a little when I found you unconscious."
Now that gets you real flared up. The abrupt change in mood was beginning to wrack your nerves. You sigh knowing that at the very least you were in good hands. Familiarity begins to set in as he breaks the ice, creating a more comfortable atmosphere between you two.
"I did not!" You puff your cheeks out at him and he's tickled pink by your endearing, agitated reactions.
His gleeful grin only grows to his eyes. "Now, who willing goes into the woods by themselves when they know damn well what kind of activity breeds over there, hm? Gotta death wish if you ask me, kid."
You open your mouth to say something, but it clamps shut. You don't know whether to be abashed by the way his face lights up like the stars in the heavens above, or by the fact that he remembers that you pissed yourself a little through your favorite pair of khaki parachute shorts in a known marked area where people have gone missing. The stark realization of it being a tangible memory was mussing at your trepidation towards him. But he's teasing you now and it stirs a strange kind of desire in your lower belly as you uncomfortably shift in your creaky wooden seat.
Pushing your bowl away, you avoid responding by guzzling down your water and then calmly placing it back down.
"I'd like to get ready for bed now, if you don't mind."
He jovially raises his eyebrows as he munches on the last of his bread. The smirk still curled up on the corners of his pinkened lips.
He wipes the crumbs off his hands and thumbs either side of his mouth before he gets up, gesturing to you. " 'Course not."
You stand up and politely push your chair in as you track behind him up the croaking staircase. Your body is practically heaving with every step and by the top of it, you're feeling a bit winded. Keegan decides to keep his comments to himself as he ushers you down the grandiose hallway. The walls are painted ivory, and wall sconces are tapered candles on held-up aged tin nailed into the parapet. Hardwood floors are well kept, but the small divots in between the grain quickly reveal the age.
He jingles the knob to what you suppose is the guest bedroom, but it seems to be locked. His fingers fish into his pocket and you watch as he phalanges through the set and then finally picks out the antiquated rusty skeleton key. It's honestly a bit jarring that it requires a key to fasten the door, but at this point, if you're being kept away from the monsters lurking outside you'd be happy to be his little prisoner for now.
He pushes the door and it moans open, though much to your surprise it's polished and orderly. In the middle of the room is a wooden four-poster queen-sized bed, with a princess-like sheer white canopy that surreptitiously envelops the bed. The furniture is a bit more romantic with detailed carved patterns on the bookshelves that line up against the wall to the vanity that sat adjacent to the bed. The carmine curtains that drape over the large window, easily maneuver you to the balcony, and the soft calling of your name beckons you to open it…
A sturdy hand clasps over your shoulder and you jolt as you turn to him. He's shaking his head as he towers over you and you look so goddamn feeble with those damn bambi eyes of yours shimmering in the tiny sliver of moonlight that peeks out from the window. He tears his gaze away to tread over to the window, squeezing it shut with the velcro he sewed into the fabric and reinforces the window shut.
A sharp exhale leaves his nostrils and his eyes are on you again. "I totally can see why you ended up the way you did." He glimpses over your dirtied and frayed dress, skinned, bloodstained knees, and contusions running up and down your legs. God, he makes it so easy to feel self-conscious.
He licks his lips as he hovers his hand over the knob to his right, and signals you over. You begrudgingly stride over and you're just as impressed at the bathroom. From the massive mirror above the traditional wooden undermount double sink vanity to the wine-red clawfoot freestanding bathtub. Little golden trinkets pinstripe the rosy walls with the soft warm lighting of the hanging flowery ceiling light fixtures. You squint your eyes when he adjusts the radiance to a white glow with the dimmer light switch before he opens the drawers one by one.
"Towels, robes, spare clothes, toiletries. Gimme a shout if you need anything else."
You open your mouth to say something and his eyes playfully narrow at you. "—within reason, missy."
Your bottom lip reflexively juts out. You hate to admit it, but you were quite the spoiled child. Never receiving more than a gentle chide from your parents and always silver-spooned to the nines by your grandparents. The truck was an exception. More of a parting gift from your grandfather that was left to you for the sole purpose of memorabilia scored into every inch of the tarnished vehicle. You hope that Keegan is capable of fixing it since most parts were made by discontinued distributors and they were definitely not easy to come by as they were expensive.
"Christ, spoiled rotten, weren't ya?" He ribs, nudging you a bit and you frown at him.
"Was not." You childlessly retort, but the small smile on your face betrays your feeble attempt at contempt.
Fuck, she is so cute. Keegan thinks as he assimilates your hilly yet winsome appearance. Just as cute as he remembers when he was seventeen, ignorant of the malignancy that poisoned his father's lungs.
"Not as much as your daddy spoiled you." You shoot back and cover your mouth with your hands as his brows lift in half surprise and half revelry.
"Blair's got jokes now, huh?" The elicitive nickname indicative of your former years sends another rushing warmth to your face and you begin to shoo him out.
"I'd really like to be clean now, thank you." You cast a scowl his way and he's putting his hands up in surrender as he backs out of the bathroom followed by the bedroom.
"I take it that the lady needs her privacy now." He leans against the doorframe with his hands stuffed into his denim jean pockets that are dusty and darkened with wood ash and the smell of the campfire lingers on his skin.
"And her beauty sleep." You add on, folding your arms. His jacket is still resting over your shoulders and he chuckles at your Hello Kitty print socks. The way your hair was mussed up in the soft glow of the lantern lamp on the night table was starting to arouse him a bit.
Fuckkkkkk, you were so adorable. It might have taken every atom in his body not to bend you over the mattress and spank you for being such a dotty woman before pressing his cock past your velvety folds as he makes you apologize in the form of incoherent, dirty little whimpers.
But the thought is quickly dismissed as it's formed in the sullied cogitations of his mind.
"Good night, [name]." He murmurs in his husky voice yet there is a hint of mischief in his tone that sends a frisson up your spinal column.
"Good night, Keegan." You susurrate, as you slowly shut the door and his expression remains the same as your view of him narrows until it disappears behind the threshold.
"Christ." You mutter to yourself as you begin to get ready for bed, as you feel the rush of collywobbles in your stomach start to well up a craving for the cowboy. The time on your cracked phone screen reads 2:03 AM and a wave of exhaustion crashes over you at the realization. Had you really been out there for seven hours?
The warm water soothes your aching bones and forming scabs scattered across your body as you gently exfoliate your skin. Thankfully, Keegan had enough sense to drop off a first aid kit by your door before you slipped into the bath. You weren't looking forward to the sting of the antiseptic, but you were more than grateful to be alive and have all your limbs attached. As you close your eyes and let the sudsy bath take away your worries, a coaxing voice is entrancing you. At first, it begins as a hushed lull intermingled with what sounds like your name and a bit of white noise that makes your brain all fuzzy and warm, but it becomes audible. Forming coherent luring words that resemble Keegan's deep, raspy voice.
Drown, drown, drown.
And you promptly find yourself submerging into the tub and the stillness of the water is subduing, but something is instigating you to open your eyes. You push away the thought, taking in the tranquility, settling into the comforting sensation of weightlessness. And yet, the feeling is not leaving you. You internally sigh as you move your body to the surface, but you remain dormant. Your eyes shoot open and your blood runs cold.
Above is one of the most fear-inducing creatures that you have ever laid your eyes upon holding you down on either side of your shoulders with slender claws digging into your flesh. It resembles a caribou skull with elongated antlers but its eyes were a violent vermillion that penetrates your soul. Its body was dark, rickety, and harrowing. Bones astute against the matted onyx fur and its tongue hanging out of his jaw like it was ready to devour you. Panic surges through your veins as you thrash about but it drives its talons further into your skin and you shriek out in pain. Water enters your lungs, your heart is stammering at cardiac arrest speed and you're choking out for dear life. This is it. This is how you die and the worst part about it is, you couldn't even call out for hope from the man who saved you just moments ago.
But just as you're accepting your fate, the muffled sound of a gunshot pierces through the air and within seconds the skinwalker is incapacitated and then dead. Soon enough, you're being hoisted out by Keegan's strong hands, as you cling onto him naked, wet, and heaving for oxygen.
Water expels out from your esophagus and you're trembling even harder than you were before when he found you, grasping to him and he's immediately talking you down.
"It's alright, you're okay. You're okay." He soothes, one hand tenderly caressing your soddened hair and the other is gripping your body tight as he pulls you out of the tub. He wastes no time unplugging the drain and wrapping you in a large towel to cover your naked body. In all seriousness, Keegan didn't even take a second to gander at your naked form when he was gathering you out of the tub and he makes that clear that his sole objective was to eliminate the wendigo that trespassed into your sanctuary.
He could've sworn that he had locked up every single opening in the house as he does every single night. It was like clockwork to him ever since his father had shown him the ropes to the place.
"…Kee-keegan." You splutter out as you continue to clutch onto him and your body is saturating him with water. He doesn't care though, that was the least of his worries. Your eyes are reaming and glossy as you dare to peek down at the creature that was seconds away from letting you meet your maker, but there's nothing but ash on the tiled floor.
"It was—" You begin, peering up at his harking steely eyes and his jaw tightens.
"It's gone."
"I don't understand." You shake your head, trying to make sense of what just happened, but the soft clatter of the rifle hitting the bathroom counter delineates your scattered mind. "Oh. But—"
"Get dressed." He softly prompts and you shakily let go of his t-shirt and he hands you an eggshell-colored peignoir as he averts his gaze. He's cognizant of the post-distress and panic you're in, so makes no indication of reallocating himself away from you as you slip on the fabric nor does he provide an explanation for what just occurred.
And to be honest, you didn't want to know. There was nothing more disturbing than the encounter with death in the form of a mutated caribou that leaves you shaken up. Everything just seemed too difficult to wrap your little head around, so let him take care of you.
A fresh towel is on your head, soaking up the wetness tangled into your hair and you relax at his balmy touch.
"Thank you." You mutter as your eyes are cast downward, eyeing the imbued, darkened spots on his nightshirt.
He delicately hooks his index finger and thumb between your chin and lifts it upward as he dabs at your features with the towel. And then it lingers. His intense yet pensive gaze, his stout calloused thumb that is now brushing against your jaw shortly followed by your quivering bottom lip. His jaw ticks.
"I'll sleep in here tonight."
Your heart jumps rampantly against your chest. "What?"
"You almost died if it weren't for me."
"Yes, but it's not—!" You fall short of words yet again and you're tearing your gaze away from him. As dire as the situation was (and it was), Keegan cannot help himself from being just the tiniest bit entertained by your endearing little mannerisms.
"I'm not gonna sleep next to you in bed." He deadpans. Normally, he would let you stumble over your words, but exhaustion is seeping into his bones and even as a noceur himself he was in desperate need of some z's. "The armchair over there quite comfy."
You follow his eyes to the brown leather recliner that was beside the bed and then back to him.
"I'm tired, Keegan." You profess, leaning your head against his chest and he's absentmindedly rubbing circles into the small of your back.
"I know."
Typically, you wouldn't be this comfortable with a stranger but given the unusual circumstances that were currently trying to slaughter your ass, you found yourself seeking solace in him.
"Let's get you into bed."
And soon he's leading you back to the bedroom, his hand is still on the small of your back as you walk on wobbly legs. He peels off the comforter and you sink into the mattress feeling like royalty in your crisp, clean nightgown, in your large princess-like bed, surrounded by plush pillows as the light in the lantern flickers. It casts shadows over his dashing features. The flame turns his glacial eyes into a soft apricot and an expression flickers over his visage—concern.
He's harping over your safety and the intruder that happened to bypass his heavily guarded home. No tripped wires, no movement detected on his cameras, and not to mention not a single sound was made until he heard your thrashing in his room across the hall. If he hadn't been there in time—
"You saved me, though." You drone, shutting your eyes as you tuck yourself into the cotton sheets.
His hardened glare softens at your words and how you look at ease now. A testament to your full, unshakeable faith in him. God, you were so quick to trust, it honestly scared him a little for you.
He scoffs. "How can you be so sure that I wouldn't hurt you?"
"Because your father would resurrect and beat the absolute shit out of you if you even dared to think about harming me." You state with a sly smirk on your face.
Keegan's expression briefly falters before he lets out a snicker, acknowledging the truth in your bold proclamation. "Crafty little critter, aren't ya?"
You giggle as shift under the sheets. It's almost a bit disturbing how you are seemingly fine and brushing off the situation. "Maybe."
He peers down at you for a moment and the welcoming feeling of your radiance starts to crawl into his chest. Almost like you were right where you needed to be, in his home, in his bed under his safeguarding. He wants nothing more than that. It's almost a bit perturbing how you are seemingly fine.
"Go to sleep." You mumble.
"You go to sleep."
"No, you first,"
"Who else is going to shield you against creatures of the night?"
You pause for a moment. "Good point."
He smiles as he walks over to the armchair, gun propped up against his left leg as he sits to face you. You're already curling up in a ball, and your chest rises and falls at a tranquil pace.
"Good night, Blair." He feels his eyes drooping as his vision becomes bleary.
You chuckle at the idiotic nickname. "Good night, Cowboy."
The remnants of tiny, foolish smiles are left on your faces as you drift off to sleep in your respective spaces. The last passing thought that crosses your mind is Keegan's tender gaze and his fingers brushing against your lips. Keegan wonders what is making you so giddy before the world around him fades out.
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As morning breaks, sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a gentle glow on the room. The spring breeze wafts into the wisps of your hair and your eyes flutter open. The seat in front of you is now empty and the balcony door is wide open, and yet you're calm as you rise out of bed. Birds are chirping and the incessant droning of cicadas buzzing loudly against your eardrums is merely white noise when you recognize the low rumble of your truck's engine pulling up. There is an urgency that surges within you and soon you're sprinting out the door, and the heat of the cobblestone stings at the soles of your feet but you don't care.
The engine cuts and Keegan climbs out of the truck, sleeves rolled up in his army green henley, and he's wearing a clean pair of relaxed, light-wash jeans that skim the leather of his Tecovas. He peers up at you with wintry hues, tipping his hat, and in that instant, you're transported back to your childhood—Mr. Russ, tipping his hat with those same eyes and that glorious smile that always made your heart race.
The resemblance was both striking and uncanny, but damn, you were totally not complaining.
"Mornin', little lady. You're up quite early." He puts his hands on his hips and he's no longer the stone-faced, vendetta-filled Cowboy that you met last night. He's your friendly Appalachian Cowboy who provides you the sweet, sweet southern hospitality with a charming smile and a bit of a North Carolinian twang that sets your groins on fire.
"Mornin', Cowboy. Fixed my truck, did you?" You lean against the French iron wrought railing with your ruffled hair and white nightgown, rippling in the slight draft that carries the healing scent of sage and lavender. The fabric forms around your body and Keegan notices how it traces the outline of your curves and how the sun is hitting you just perfect enough for you to look like a literal angel.
But it's still the unrelenting, disconcerting feeling that creeps up on him when he looks up at you so unbothered, airheaded with that buoyant grin on your face. Was it really just a facade?
"Fixed it good enough for you to get back on your way." He turns from you to the truck and then back to you. "By the way, where were you headed?"
"Back to the old man." You cross your leg over the other, waiting for his response. He watches as the skin of your legs peeks out from under the peignoir and it's a bit enticing.
"I didn't contact him if that's what you're askin'" His hand acts like a sun visor to block the light out of his sensitive eyes to take a good gander at you.
"I would hope not. Don't need to send him into cardiac arrest." You joke and you see his shoulders shaking a bit, suggesting a chuckle.
"Made you breakfast."
"Yeah?" You simper, leaning a little more against the railing.
He can't help the way his grin broadens as he peers up at your flirty form. "Careful now, can't have you comin' back home with a broken neck, can we?"
Shit. Shit. Shiiiiit.
Goddamn him and his pretty face. He's already heading inside as you're locking in on him, but Keegan isn't one to give you the satisfaction. He'll play the long game and he'll enjoy every minute of it. From the way you're sitting next to him at the table with your dress bunched up to your thighs to the way you sensually lick your spoon covered with cream and he's internally chuckling at the mess you've made on the corners of your lips, feigning gullibility to get a rise out of him. Admittedly, it's hot. He wants nothing more than to lick your fingers clean and sloppily kiss your sweet cream-laden lips.
Mmmm.
He doesn't say anything. Just enjoys his breakfast and keeps his gaze lowered like a gentleman. The company of a beautiful woman is enough for him on a fine Sunday morning like this.
You can only wonder what he's thinking as you act like a giddy schoolgirl who's trying to get the attention of her professor. Not that you had a significant age gap with Keegan, but in his original line of work there was a massive lapse. Being a retired Marine had probably mentally aged him over give or take 10 years would have been your best guess. And leaving the farm to his cousins in his absence probably impacted him even more, well, according to your gossip girl of a father at least.
He made trips down to NC every so often to check on his favorite, reclusive cowboy, sometimes tending to his facilities when need be. You never tagged along though. In your mind, you were a city girl who didn't mind dressing up as a cowgirl if she saw fit. So coming down from your city job, in the comfort of your sweet loft that overlooked the NOVA skyline didn't exactly make you miss the Appalachia trails.
Still, it is nice being back here with a somewhat familiar stranger in a home you had only seen the outside of because, for the majority of your life, you had so desperately tried to force out the rural in you. Call it toxic, but leaving the mountains always felt like the haze had lifted from your brain. It was unsettling to be here for too long.
"You're nervous."
You glance up from the runny eggs that you have been working on for the past twenty minutes. You give him a sheepish grin. "This place makes me nervous."
"Itching to go back to the city, huh?"
That elicits a small chuckle from you. "And what do you know about me?"
"Well, according to your father," He says in a knowing tone and you narrow your eyes at him as he gives you a coy smile. "you love the city too much to move back."
"I don't think I'm too good for it. Here, I mean."
"Didn't say that. The Appalachia isn't for everyone." He butters his toast and then munches on it and soon it vanishes into his mouth. The night before is washed away from your memory, but Keegan loses track of his thoughts as he stares at the leftover jagged lines embedded into your skin from a creature that he knew you wanted to forget. A glance at his watch and he's up, wiping his hands and mouth with the serviette that was on his lap before he places it on the table. "You ready?"
"You got somewhere to be?" You raise your brows, not quite ready to leave yet.
"Matter o'fact I gotta date with an employee from Tractor Supply Co in about an hour, and it's thirty minutes out."
"New livestock?" You sip at your coffee.
A sad smile graces his lips. "Yeah, my last eldest cattle just passed away a few weeks ago."
You frown. "I'm sorry."
For a moment you swear you saw him get teary-eyed, but he quickly shakes himself out of the grief, grabbing his keys as he downs his glass of ice water. He stops himself for a moment as you get up to push your chair in and he can't help himself from tracing his fingers over the claw marks on either side of your shoulders. You shudder from the remembrance and his touch.
"[name]," He starts to express but your mood sours.
"Stop."
His expression falters and so does his hand as he lets it drop to his side. You didn't want to remember any of it. He notices how you clutch onto your necklace and he drops the subject.
"Your trucks waiting." He takes your hand and deposits the keys into your palm.
You give him a tight-lipped smile. "Thank you."
You begin to approach your truck and you feel relief washing over you as you run your hand over the tarnished, rusted hood of the Dodge before you open the driver door. As you climb in you notice that all your belongings remain untouched. Scattered cassette tapes, polaroids, and the little Hawaiian girl that swayed with every movement still plastered onto the dash. The leather seats seem to have abrasions, revealing the cushion beneath, but you write it off as a bear maybe deciding to try and access your vehicle after you had abandoned it.
"…[name], ….[name]….!"
You're snapped out of your stupor, recollecting your thoughts as you glance over at him leaning his body against your truck. "I checked the vehicle, it's all clear for you to go. Should make it back alright."
"Why wouldn't it be if you fixed the engine?"
The look you give him is blank, free from concern and any worry that may have been left on your face from last night.
He nods, pushing his hands into his jean pockets. "Right, well, it was nice seeing you all grown up."
That provokes a reaction. Heat is rising to your cheeks and Keegan is standing there looking cool as ever as he takes off his hat and wipes the sweat off his brow before putting it back on.
"Thank you." You say with more feeling, only your eyes acknowledging the horrors of last night. And that's enough for Keegan.
"You take care now." He tips his hat with a good-natured grin and you snicker at his little cowboy bit.
He waves to you as you back out of his driveway and you glance over from your rearview mirror as his towering figure disappears and so does any anamnesis from the evening prior. Or at least, you told yourself that.
And that was April. Months have gone by and Keegan doesn't exactly expect you to keep in contact. He's even surprised to hear a, '[name], says hello, by the way.' from your father during their weekly check-in.
And he definitely does not expect to see your truck in his driveway when he's coming back from milking his cows for the day with his new set of eyes that's in dog form, wagging her tail in anticipation as she sits.
"German Shepherd, eh? Suits you." You simper at him, leaning against the pillar of his home with glossy lips, and a cutesy red paisley swing dress that just barely covers your thighs. Your boots are hardly broken in as they dig into the grassy field and your hair is a little disheveled in an endearing way.
"Name's Miley." He peels off his gloves, shoving them into his back pocket. He's completely taken aback by your sudden presence, though he's not one to complain about a pretty lady showing up at his door.
"Hey, Miley." You coo, holding your hand to her and she's immediately reciprocating your energy tenfold as she jumps up and down, causing you to giggle and pet her soft fur.
Keegan doesn't even need to say anything as he glances down at the German Shepherd and she's already sitting on the ground between you two.
"Miss me?" You ask, coyly.
"Could ask you the same thing, Blair." He tilts his head to the side, eyeing you suspiciously. Something was off.
"I was just in town."
"Uh huh."
It doesn't take long before the act drops and distress is carving into your features. Lips are trembling in fear as your eyes begin to water.
"Something's been following me, Keegan." Your body naturally falls against his chest and his breath hitches a bit at your contact and the smell of your perfume wafts into his senses.
Fuck.
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mini taglist: @keegansshark @soapsgf @milkteaarttime
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m0uchie · 3 months
Note
Fuck it bae, I don't care anymore.
May I request a Navia & Furina x Fem!reader? Kk, thanks. Love yah 😘
-🍀🍄 anon
𐙚 caught in the princess’ bed
⟡ how dare you… Furina leaves you alone for a second, just for you to try and fuck her friend? :0
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— pairing : navia & furina x fem!reader
— warnings : NSFW; not the original storyline?; Furina is a princess; unestablished relationship; cunnilingus; sex toy; threesome
— a/n : I'm sorry for the delay, I deleted what I wrote and did it all over again a few times, but it's here! I also got horny asf writing this?💀 I’m ovulating, sry
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“W-wait… mmfgh- ahh Navia- what if she comes back?” You ask, low moans escaping between each sentence.
She smiles and undoes the tie on your dress, pushing you lightly with one hand on your chest so that you fall back onto the bed and she can be on top.
Perhaps it was a bit too presumptuous of you to assume that just because lady Furina had left you alone with her visit and said that she might take longer than expected, she’d actually take a long time. I mean, she intended to fetch the leaves and brew the tea herself… so why was she standing now, in front of your her bed with her arms crossed and a raised eyebrow looking at you?
You and Navia quickly separate. You imagine that if it were up to her, you would just continue on with the indecency in front of the princess, as she pouts in irritation when you close your legs together.
Now your dress was on the floor, covered only by your panties, and bra tossed to the side of the bed. The long gone beautiful hairstyle stood messy on your head, as well as the visible mess inside your panties. Damn, how could you be so careless?!
Your heart was racing with fear of the punishment, you could barely look at lady Furina as you mumbled your apologies.
“Firstly…” she scoffs, raising her voice. “Look at me when you address me.” You hear footsteps as she gets closer. “And secondly… how dare you give your body just like that to someone other than me?” She lifts your chin up between two fingers. “If you were feeling so needy, you just had to ask.”
Your eyes close so tightly that you feel tears forming. What would become of you?…
“haa—?!!” You jolt in surprise and blink your eyes open when you feel one of the princess' fingers pressing down on your clothed clit. “Does the feeling of fucking someone else in my bed while I’m not here turns you on? Did you want me to see you like this?” She begins circling your sensitive bud under her touch, making your eyes melt with pleasure and your head tilt slightly in hesitation. You’re not sure what’s going on.
Without stopping the ministrations, she turns back. A blank stare at the girl behind her, who couldn't say anything of the situation. She was fully dressed, just without the big hat so as not to get in the way. “You are so greedy… you did this despite knowing you are my servant.” She teases, even though her eyes are no longer on you.
“Will it be enough if you have both of us?” One of her fingers signals for Navia to come closer, holding her by the shoulders and guiding her hand to take off your panties, which Navia did without hesitation, her mouth already salivating at the sight of your wet pussy.
“Can I?" She makes sure, her arms already hugging your hips possessively as she looked at the lady with her puppy dog eyes until she replied “you may.”
And then, you feel your pussy being completely engulfed by her mouth, sucking out the essence that escaped and dripped onto the bed. "You are so sweet! Mmmh~” she would comment, her nose pressing against your clit deliciously, making you moan in ecstasy.
Lady Furina on the other hand, sat back in her chair, trying to enjoy the tea she brought, but failing miserably. Her thighs crossed over each other, squeezing together in a failed attempt to contain the excitement that was growing in her core. She knew she could do whatever she wanted, but what if word got out? Wouldn't that cause her any harm?
Your eyes searched for hers as Navia reveled in the taste of you, chest heaving up and down waiting for her to get up from her post and join you two.
“H-how about you take your clothes off and let me take care of you?” You suggest shyly, voice a little cracked and reluctant.
“Hmm…” she pounders, biting her lower lip.
Navia takes the opportunity to encourage her, separating from your slit with a loud pop and throwing her own clothes to the floor, “my lady, don’t be shy. It'll be our little secret, just the three of us. We’re not gonna tell anyone, promise.”
Furina uncrosses her legs and gets up, going to the end of the bed, “well… I guess… if you insist. I am quite curious, you see.” She climbs onto the mattress and crawls towards you, climbing over your body.
Your arms wrap around her back, pulling her down and gluing your bodies and mouths together with a kiss. From time to time, you rubbed yourself against any part of her body (you couldn’t even see which part was) like a bitch in heat. When you can't take it anymore, your agile and trembling hands remove all the fabric that covered her parts, exposing her nakedness.
“C’mon, let me have some fun too~” Navia gently pushes Furina forward, giving her space to position herself between your legs.
Furina's pussy is right ahead of your face, and you’re so thirsty! :( your hands grab her ass, and you feel the shiver that runs through Furina's body, but she doesn't have time to complain before you swallow the meal in front of you.
“Hnnnngh…!” Her body tenses up as you begin to suck on her pussy, her face turning red with pleasure. The sensation is new and exciting, something she never thought she’d experience. A sensation that only gets better the moment you feel something being inserted into your tight hole, moaning into her cunt when the small device starts vibrating in your canal.
Navia holds your legs open, amazed at how swollen your clit is right now, and intertwines her legs with yours, rubbing her own pussy against yours back and forth, spreading the sticky fluid all over your skin. You felt stimulated both above and below.
Furina would move your hair out of your forehead and pull on it clumsily, pushing your face back so she could see it. The way your makeup was all smudged, your eyes watering… she couldn't deny that this sight turned her on as she used your tongue to satisfy herself.
“Ahhh… yes, right there…” the princess moaned, choking you with her juices as you pushed your tongue deeper into her cunny. And you loved it. You loved how you felt used and handled by them just for relief. If you stopped for a moment to breathe, Furina would let out a long whine in displeasure and Navia would harshly open your mouth back with her fingers while she lifted your head, mouth ready to receive a warm pussy again. “Keep going, sweetheart,” she’d whisper.
And even if you finally came, squirting all over Navia’s pussy, they’d still use you a little more. Because it's not fair that only you get to finish!
You feel so overstimulated, body completely spent and sweaty, sensitive to the touch. Your jaw hurt from licking Furina so much, but you didn't stop until you heard her whimper, bucking her hips into your mouth and finally staying still for a few seconds while pressing your face against her hips to cum down your throat (and of course you swallowed it all!).
You already felt the need to breathe when she held you by the cheeks and separated you, her breathing was heavy and a line of a sticky white fluid connected your mouth to her pussy, running down your chin to your breasts.
Navia on the other hand, lasted a while longer before reaching climax, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as orgasm washed over her. She moved her hand down to circle her clit with two fingers for a little, until she stopped moving on top of you. And in the end, she still sucked your mixed essences from your pussy with the premise that “she was cleaning you up”, making you cum one last time before you two snuggled up with Furina next to you, too tired to do anything now and think about any possible consequences in the future (including the tea that got cold).
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seiya-starsniper · 2 months
Note
"I love your smile" with dreamling from the gentle prompts
Hello I am 8 million years later answering this anon, sorry for the delay, I hope you enjoy it!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰
Also available on AO3
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It’s the kind of perfect spring day that the poets used to write about. Cool in the morning and warm, but not hot by mid-afternoon. There are sparse clouds in the sky, and the air is fragrant with the smell of flowers, of new life, of new beginnings. The fact that this perfect spring day also falls on a Saturday means that Hob Gadling is out with his camera, photographing every leaf, every small creature, happy couple, and passing vehicle that catches his attention.
And of course, his boyfriend.
It may be a beautiful and warm spring day, but Dream Endless is dressed like it's still the middle of winter; black jeans and black Doc Martens paired with a black tee and black pea coat to complete the ensemble. Hob had managed to talk him out of wearing the black scarf, at least. He knew Dream ran cold even in the summer, but the scarf would have definitely been too warm for today. In contrast, Hob is out in just a plain white t-shirt, cargo shorts and sneakers, and he’s certain that the two of them must strike their own kind of picture walking side by side through the park. Perhaps he’ll ask someone to snap a photo of them on his phone later.  
Right now though, Hob’s having too much fun taking photos of Dream. Dream feeding the ducks with the small bag of seeds he’d brought along for just this purpose, Dream stopping to admire the various sculptures scattered throughout the park, Dream stopping to re-lace his boots. 
“You take far too many photos of me,” Dream tells Hob eventually, rolling his eyes as he stands back up.
“What can I say?” Hob laughs, snapping another photo of Dream’s unamused face. “I love your smile.”
“Hob,” Dream says, leveling a flat stare at him. Hob continues to click away. “I am not smiling in any of the photos you’ve taken.” 
He’s right, but only by a technicality. Dream hasn’t smiled once while looking at Hob’s camera. But the ones where he isn’t paying attention to Hob’s lens, well. That was a different story. But Dream didn’t need to know that right now. Later in the day, maybe. 
“I know this may be hard to believe since it ruins that whole tortured poet look you’ve got going on,” Hob quips back at his boyfriend, amusement clear in his tone. “But you do smile.” He says it like he’s sharing a secret, and Dream looks at him in disbelief, before he sighs in exasperation. It's a fond exasperation though, Hob’s learned to tell over the years.   
“Come. We are missing the goslings. We must catch them before they swim away,” Dream says, grabbing Hob by the hand and forcing him to put the camera down to rest around his neck. They walk over to where the geese and their recently hatched chicks are idling, and Dream approaches them slowly, kneeling and eventually sitting on a patch of dry grass closest to the pond’s edge. The geese eye him warily at first, but then Dream pulls out some seeds from his pocket, scattering them away from his person and sitting still as a statue while they slowly approach him.
Hob stays back away from where Dream is sitting; geese seem to hate him for some reason, but Dream has yet to meet a bird that doesn’t instantly take to him. It’s one of the things that Hob had noticed about the other man. 
They’d met a little over two years ago in this very park, and Hob had been enraptured by Dream feeding the pigeons. He’d only meant to snap one or two photos of the strange goth man, but then one of the pigeons had flown up onto Dream’s shoulder and cooed happily as the man fed it straight from his hand. Dream’s smile had been small, but absolutely radiant in that moment. Hob fell in love at first sight. 
Dream, decidedly, had not. He thought Hob to be a nuisance, had thrown a fit about having his photo taken without his knowledge or permission when Hob approached him. Hob had promised to not post any of the photos anywhere, and even offered to delete all of them if Dream saw them and really hated them that much. It would’ve killed Hob to delete such stunning photos, but he would’ve done it. 
Luckily for him, Dream had softened when Hob had shown him the photos, then demanded Hob print them for him for free.  Hob agreed, and then, because he had absolutely no self control around beautiful people, had asked Dream if he’d let Hob buy him dinner as an additional apology. Dream turned him down, and then also refused to give Hob his name when asked. Hob was hopelessly charmed.
After bringing the other man the agreed upon photos a week later, Hob promised not to photograph him if they ever ran into each other again. Dream looked at Hob like he didn’t believe the other man, but Hob kept his word, and for a time they maintained a pleasant, but distant acquaintance whenever they happened upon one another on days when the weather was nice.
It was Dream, surprisingly, who decided to approach Hob with a rather lucrative offer a few months later.
“I’m interested,” Dream had told him.
“In me?” Hob asked, surprised and flattered all at once. 
“In your photography experience,” Dream clarified, though his cheeks had pinked at Hob’s words. “My sibling is getting married in a few months and they have yet to find a photographer they like.”
“Well, I can give you my website so you can show them my portfolio—” 
“They’ve already seen it,” Dream interrupted him, blushing all the way from the tip of his nose down to his neck. “I—they wanted me to ask you if you’d shoot for their wedding. Personally.”
The rest, they say, is history. Hob hasn’t stopped photographing Dream ever since—with permission, of course.
In the present, Hob watches Dream’s patience and gentle tenacity pay off. The goslings eventually crowd around him and chirp happily, while the parental (Mother? Father? Hob can’t tell) goose angrily hisses at every other passing person who gets too close. They seemed to have claimed Dream as one of their own. 
Hob’s camera clicks away until he hears a low warning beep signifying that his memory card is full. 
In hindsight, he probably shouldn’t have taken that 25 minute video of Dream feeding the crows the other day. But well, they’d all crowded around him and he’d looked so happy. The crows looked happy too, probably because Dream may as well look like them. It was cinematic art, and Hob would not be convinced otherwise. 
When Dream eventually runs out of seeds, he bows his head and holds out his empty hands, a universal sign for the end of their interaction. The geese seem to realize quickly he will no longer feed them, and so they wander off into the nearby lake, the babies eagerly and awkwardly following their parent on tiny legs still unused to traveling by land. Hob waits until they’re all safely in the water before he takes a seat next to Dream. 
“Have you finally tired of photographing my face?” Dream asks before resting his head on Hob’s shoulder. 
“Never,” Hob answers with a small laugh. “I ran out of memory.”
Dream lets out a dramatic sigh. “Finally.”
“Oh hush, you,” Hob replies, jostling Dream with his shoulder. The other man groans at having been disturbed, and Hob takes the opportunity to wrap an arm around Dream’s shoulder, before planting a kiss to his hair. 
“Show me?” Dream asks, reaching for Hob’s camera. “I want to see just what it is you find so fascinating about watching me feed waterfowl.”
Hob chuckles.
“Everything, love,” he answers honestly as he pulls up the photos for them to review on his camera’s tiny screen. “Absolutely everything.”
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cloudy-em · 9 months
Note
shy reader and lip are my favorite. but i was thinking maybe she’s like that because of family? they’re mean to her so it’s better for her to keep to herself and she doesn’t tell lip anything until he sees it for himself
thank you for the request, anon! I'm thinking northside!reader for this one
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
We're walking to my house, the thin layer of snow crunching beneath our feet. Although I'm thankful that my private school allows long pants in the winter time, and that we're provided with a thick knit sweater as a part of our uniform options, I'm still freezing. I don't know how Lip does it. He seems just fine with his jeans and layered flannel.
"You cold?" He breaks the comfortable silence, and I nod, knowing that if I speak, my teeth will clatter together. He pulls me into him, his arm wrapping around my shoulder. It's nice, just the two of us and the snow. It's quiet and peaceful.
We reach my front door and I unlock it, inviting Lip inside. He takes his shoes off and follows me into my bedroom, where he sits on my bed. It's not our usual routine. Normally I prefer going to his house, but my family was going to be home early because of some special news coming from Harvard University for my sister. Lip decided yesterday he would spend time with me until he had to sneak out of my window so I'd be on time for dinner.
I sigh, joining Lip on my bed, Wuthering Heights in hand.
"Read to me?" I mumble. He's prepared for the question, and no matter how many times he smiles and says yes, I'm still a little embarrassed. It's easier when he reads to me because I can hear his voice reading the lines in my head. He smiles like he usually does, leaning back and taking the book from me. I lean against him, listening as he reads.
"Y/N!" I hear my mom call from downstairs. I look at Lip apologetically, telling him I'll be right back. I trudge down the stairs, trying to delay whatever my mom has to say. I walk into the kitchen, joining her and my siblings. Oh joy.
"Why didn't you put the dishes away?" She asks, annoyed at my presence. I can feel myself fold in slightly, ready for whatever the family wants to pile on me.
"I- I'm sorry, mom, it's just that the oceanography club ran late-" she cuts me off, not needing to hear my explanation.
"I don't care what happened, Y/N. You have these things to take care of because the rest of us are doing more important things. Your father and I both work full time jobs all day. Your brother is a football captain, and your sister is president of the debate team. They have well-fulfilled, promising lives in front of them. What do you have? A weird obsession with fish."
"I concur," my sister chimes in. "Are you like, attracted to them?" My brother laughs, joining in on the game. "Probably, I mean it's not like she's pretty enough to date a human!"
They continue to take turns, finding whatever flaws they can to comment on. I shrink into myself, waiting for them to get distracted by their own arrogance and start talking about themselves.
This moment comes like it usually does, but never fast enough. I walk away as quietly as possible, and return to my room. Lip looks at me, his eyes searching mine. He still has Wuthering Heights open, his thumb and index finger holding the spine open to the page we left off on. He places the book face down beside him on the bed, silently opening his arms in a welcoming gesture. Without hesitation, I take my spot in his arms as he pulls me into his chest, stroking my hair softly. I try to bite back my tears, but a few escape, and suddenly he has tear stains on his shirt.
"I'm so sorry, baby," he whispers to me, swaying slightly. "I didn't know. We'll figure something out, 'kay? No reason you can't come stay with me. The kids love you, and Fiona'll come around when we tell her what's goin' on. You and me, right?"
I smile slightly, nodding against him. "Right."
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ovaryacted · 3 months
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sent the anon about making leon suck the strap. what about making him ride the strap.
MDNI/18+. NSFW.
Firstly, I’m so sorry this response has been so delayed, and now I can finally sit and write it out. Secondly, thank you for the initial asks of Leon taking the strap, we love that over here and it's been fun imagining every scenario. Now, as for this particular idea, yeah, he would do whatever he could to get fucked correctly.
Sure, for the most part, Leon will take what’s given to him without restraint. He lets you take control of him, to mold him into whoever you want him to be at that moment. He’ll fuck you however you ask him to, not caring so much for his own needs but to cater to you and only you. If you order him to get on his knees and use his mouth on you, he won’t stop until his jaw grows sore. Yank on his hair and tell him to suck off your strap, he’d do that in a heartbeat, not caring about how embarrassed he might feel.
Riding the strap? Oh, now you’re in for a show.
Leon would be shy because it’s something taboo to him that doesn't happen all the time, not that he hasn't taken dick before back when he was experimenting. Most days, it was him fucking you while you had the control. You’d ride him into oblivion until his head turns to mush and there isn’t a thought in his pretty head.
Having him on top like this would bring in a new wave of emotions for Leon, his body sensitive with every buck of his hips. Here you are, having a man with so much on his shoulders turned into a whimpering mess as his thighs framed your own.
You rested your head against the pillow, soft hands caressing Leon’s hips and muscular thighs as he moved his body up and down. His eyes were closed, focused on the feeling of you inside him and how well you filled him. The harness of the strap was doing wonders to stimulate you while he rode you, your hazy eyes meeting his own through the haziness of his pleasure.
“That feel good baby?”, you said to him, his head lifting to give you a better look at his fucked out face. He nods, a low whine slipping past him when the tip of your strap-on rubs deliciously into that sensitive spot inside him.
“Tell me how it feels to have my dick inside you”
“Feels so fucking good”, his words were slurring together, eyes rolling to the back of his head. You grinned as you watched him, taking in the way his muscles flexed with every soft movement he gave you. Thrusting your hips upwards into him, his cock bounced at his pelvis, the angry red tip just asking to be touched.
You brought your fingers towards his aching length, stroking it gently as your thumb pressed into his slit. He moaned then, a high-pitched sound that brought you even closer to the edge than you initially anticipated. Leon should be embarrassed, he should care more about how pathetic he seems the more he shifts over you. Instead, he puts more force into his actions, bouncing on you prominently with a smile on his face. You matched his expression, sitting further up to kiss him on the lips, his breath hitching and another groan filling the room.
“Good boy. Keep riding me like that and I’ll let you cum”, you whispered to him, Leon’s mind growing fuzzy and making sure to listen to your orders. As long as he gets his reward in the end, he’ll do anything you say.
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moonydustx · 1 month
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Hello! I just read law proposing to reader and it's so sweet like-- I wanna cty-
Anyway... what happens on their honeymoon? Would they dock at an island for like a week or so? Just so the two newly weds have some time alone? Or they'd keep sailing after the ceremony? Like- I imagine both happening but I wanna know what you think.
Hi dear anon, sorry for the delay in responding, I was sick this week and everything was delayed.
For me, there are two versions: the ones they would continue to navigate immediately after the ceremony, but I also think mainly that their friends would never let the honeymoon go unnoticed. I also like to think that even after the wedding was over, Law would take short days to spend just with his S/O, locked in the room enjoying each other's presence.
requests open | one piece masterlist
The proposal - the honeymoon (part 3)
Part 1 - Part 2
warnings: brief allusion to sex, but nothing explicit or detailed.
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The archipelago filled the horizon more and more as Polar Tang approached. From afar you could see a huge park and what looked like the beach packed with people. You weren't yet used to the idea that came from the minds of Shachi and Penguin - which you soon discovered involved Nami, Robin, Ikkaku. The strong breeze ruffled the layers of the sundress you were wearing, it was also strange not to be wearing a crew jumpsuit.
"The bags are packed." Law's voice took your attention away from the destination you were arriving at.
"I mean, the suitcase. The only one." you grumbled. "What did they do?"
"I'm curious too." Law turned you back to contemplate the sea on the deck and taking advantage of the fact that you were alone, he placed quick kisses on your shoulder.
"Look on the bright side." You grabbed his chin, stroking the little beard that was there. "At least we'll have a few days just for the two of us."
"Ah, finally." He let his head fall under your shoulder, making you laugh openly.
The wedding had been incredible, including the banquet. You just didn't expect the amount of sake to be too much, even if you had ten Zoros as friends. As the night went on, you, Law and practically everyone else had more alcohol than they should have in their blood. The two of you left the party amidst whistles and jokes about the wedding night, but when you reached the room you barely had the strength to take off your dress, just as Law remained with his suit and tie turned in a funny way.
After that, you dealt with all the mess that a wedding can bring and finished restocking the Polar Tang before heading on your way. Combined with all the tiredness and accumulated responsibilities, you and Law still hadn't had the wedding night you'd dreamed of - not even 10 minutes of honeymoon.
"We're here!" you both heard Bepo scream and soon went to disembark from Polar Tang.
While you carried your small bag, Law dragged a not so big suitcase that carried some of the two of your clothes.
"Here are the keys and the address, there's a little map there." Ikkaku placed them both in your hands. "We left you a schedule and also some clothes."
"This is amazing guys."
"So, I'll see you in a week." Law asked and everyone immediately agreed. "Bepo is in charge. Any problems, and I mean any problems, just get in touch."
After a quick goodbye, the two of you headed towards the aforementioned address. Even though he wasn't much for public displays of affection, especially close to strangers, Law took your hand as you dodged fruit baskets and running children. The town fair looked lovely and you hoped you would have some time to explore it at your leisure.
"It seems to be here." the two of you stopped in front of a small wooden door. Law took the lead and opened it, taking the key from your hand.
It was a small but cozy house. As far as he could see, there was a small kitchen full of plants, a sofa and a den den mushi that transmitted video. A shelf with books and more flowers. In the distance you could also see two closed doors, which must have been the room where you were going to stay.
"I hope you like it. The fridge has some things ready and we left some things in the wardrobe too." his attention turned to Law, who had found a small note on the table. "What do you say we see what they got up to?"
"Sounds perfect to me." you took the lead and opened the fridge. Your bag was already thrown somewhere on the table, just as you could see that Law had already gotten rid of his bag.
Inside the fridge you found some alcoholic drinks, some fruit and a huge jar of chocolates that were your favorites. Further down you could see some bottles of wine too.
"Well, that's a great start." you put one in your mouth and approached Law, wanting to put a piece on his lips.
"I prefer this one." He took your lips in a quick kiss. You could complain, but it was undeniable that the sweet chocolate seemed much tastier when it was wrapped around his lips. "Delicious."
"Come on, we have a room to explore." you took his hand heading towards the closed doors.
"Indeed, we do" the malice in his words didn't go unnoticed and as much as you could feel your cheeks blushing, you also wanted to finally enjoy some time alone.
Behind the doors was a huge room. A dark, shaggy rug on the floor and a huge bed that could easily fit the two of you and leave room left. The window on the opposite side of the bed offered a beautiful view of the island, and you could even see the sea with your eyes.
"Wow, it's so beautiful." you laughed as you saw Law throw himself onto the bed and his body sink. "You look comfortable my love."
"Not only does it look good, it's actually good. Did you find anything out there?" he asked as soon as he saw you standing in front of the rustic and large closet that was at the other end of the room.
"I'm about to find out."
You opened the two wardrobe doors, finding some dresses that looked comfortable, hanging along with some other pieces. On the other side, some flowery t-shirts made of the same light fabric were piled up for Law. You also saw flip-flops, sunscreen, and some cosmetics.
"Just some clothes, some things… Wait." you bent down, grabbing a small black box from underneath what would be your side of the wardrobe.
Your surprise didn't go unnoticed by Law, who quietly got up and stood behind you, who didn't notice the movement. Inside the black box were several tiny panties - which most appreciate just threads and jewelry sewn together - some things that looked like lubricants, handcuffs and various other sex toys.
"Now that's interesting." Law's low voice whispered in your ear, making you shiver. One of his hands attached itself to your waist, while the other went to the box.
"I'm going to find out which one of them did this." you replied, feeling your body burn with shyness. However, the way you felt Law pull your body against his indicated what plans he had in mind.
"Leave that for later." his lips went down to your neck, while one of his hands reached into the small box. "I bet you'd look even hotter in this one." he held up a small white piece and handed it to you. His hand then went back to the box and grabbed the pair of handcuffs.
"What do you want to do?" your hands found his hat and slid down to where the dark strands of his hair appeared.
"Now that we're married, you're stuck with me." Again, his lips descended dangerously on the back of your neck. "I think it's time to make this more literal."
That morning ended exactly the same way as the evening of the same day and many other moments throughout the week. You still hadn't realized how much being confined inside a submarine could take away certain freedoms from both of you. The two of you woke up tangled up, soon after you were on the beach; You would go back to your room and decide to continue the activity with a view of the sea, then choose one of the small shops for dinner. Kitchen, living room, sofa, bathroom. You would make a point of thanking whoever had chosen the house.
The moon lit up the room and no matter how much sleep was present, you couldn't sleep. Maybe it was because of the small sadness that occupied your heart when you knew that it was the last night you would spend there and that the next day you would leave, maybe it was the noise of music coming from outside, but it was probably an uncomfortable noise coming from the kitchen.
As you watched Law, you could see that he was far away in the dream world. His tattooed back was lit by the moon and the only thing stopping him from being completely naked was a sheet over him. You stood up and put on panties - normal this time - and a black shirt that had been on your husband's body for a few hours ago.
You looked in every corner of the kitchen and found nothing, nothing that could be making such a mess at that hour. When you reached the sofa you then realized. A tiny black ball of fur, huddled next to one of the rugs, caught your attention.
"Oh no." You picked up what was supposed to be a small black cat kitten, on one of its paws there were some thorns. "Let me help you."
You first tried hard to remove the thorns, but were unsuccessful as the cat complained every time you touched the injured area. Soon after, you tried to find the litter he belonged to, but there was no sign of a cat around the house. Only one solution ran through his mind. You left the cat on the sofa and went in search of Law, you just didn't expect to find him already leaving the room.
"Everything is fine?" he asked, still drowsy, trying to understand your disappearance from the bed.
"We need to talk."
"Now?" he looked indignant, still yawning.
"I want to have a baby." As soon as the words left his mouth, Law's color seemed to leave him along with the sleep he seemed to be feeling. His mouth opened and closed a few times, searching for words. "No, not that. A baby, a kitten. He's alone, he's hurt and I don't know what to do."
"Okay… I understand" he accepted almost automatically, still stuck in his first conception of what a baby would be. "I just wouldn't go around informing anyone like that."
"I'm just a little anxious, help me, love, please." You pouted making the task almost irresistible for him. "I don't know what else to do."
"Let me see him." Law followed you to the couch and saw the little ball of fur bundled up. "Hey man, you don't look good."
"I tried to take it away, I tried to give it food, but he won't let me touch his paw."
"Wait for me in the room, maybe you don't like seeing it." Law asked and even though you were reluctant, you nodded and walked away from the two.
It took more minutes than you expected and you had probably already walked around the entire room more than ten times when Law opened the door, bringing the small cat and a small pot in your hands.
"Someone was hungry." He sat down and placed the kitten on the floor, next to the pot that looked like some crushed fruit.
"Thank you my love." you hug him, placing countless kisses on Law's head. "We need to buy food for him."
"Is he really going with us?" Law turned up, finding an expression that made it clear that the decision had already been made. "What will it be called?"
"I'll let you choose. But think carefully first." Law untangled your arms from him, just so he could place you sitting on his legs.
"Thank you my dear."
"For letting you choose the name?"
"Not only that, but for choosing me." He still held you close, as if he was afraid you were going to disappear. "For choosing to love me and of course, for growing our family."
-- Extra 01
"So, did you like the gifts?" Ikkaku took your arm and pulled you away from the others. The boys seemed more entertained by the little cat than by your return.
"Was you?!"
"It was and I hope you brought everything back because the owner of the house is a nice old lady, she doesn't need to know about these things."
"Well, I brought the toys and a single panty." you replied, the victorious smile was clear on your lips.
"One? Just one? Did you miss all the others?"
"I didn't lose them, they're just no longer usable." you responded as naturally as possible, laughing as you saw the meaning of the words reach your friend. "Actually two, the first one I think Law wanted to keep as a souvenir."
"Oh God, no, I won't think about that." She left apparently traumatized and leaving you laughing about the situation.
--Extra 02
You had already done your tasks in the command room, updated your medicine stock and it was almost lunch time. As you approached your room, you knew that Law wouldn't be that busy at this time and it would be a great time to have lunch together. You just didn't expect to find him holding the cat on the table, the small black cat resting on both paws, as if the feline were a toy fighting with two other action figures.
"And the warrior Sora took down the…" Law - and the cat - noticed your present. "I was just.. Sora and I were just having fun." He tried to find a justification, making you laugh even more.
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