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milknhonies · 2 months

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Daddy's Final Deal

Oneshot Summary: Your possessive Step-Father Bruce Wayne decides he cannot bare you leaving for college...so he leans on a friend who shares the same obsession for you. He offers him a deal.

Oneshot Warning: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Non-Con, CNC, Grooming (all characters are of legal age.) Bondage, P in V, Oral Sex, Threesome, Exhibition, Vouyerism, pseudo-incest between step-father & step daughter, pimping if you squint, breeding kink if you squint. No condoms/unsafe sex.

Word Count: 10.2k

Author Notes: This is a gift for @cardierreh15 after a playful dare. I hope you enjoy this babe 🥺✨

Gently laid on soft satin bed sheets, your thoughts were consumed with the evening discussion that you had during supper with your step-father Bruce and his best friend Clark, followed by the unexpected marriage proposal Clark had made. You were surprised Clark had wanted your hand for any other purpose than for your step-father’s wealth– you would have never guessed his feelings for your because he was usually so calm and friendly with everyone. Yet he had asked you softly if you would consider being his wife with a warm smile, and you knew he was serious from the glint in his eyes. It was like your lungs were drowning with how difficult it was to breathe.

For the first time, your heart stirred, void of fear and worry.

You didn’t outright decline his offer, but a decision of this magnitude deserved more than a hasty reply. You had to think this through being that you were so caught if guard in the first place, so you demurred by saying you needed time to think about your official answer. After all, you were just a month away from starting college. You wanted to be a journalist like Clark despite Bruce’s protests and alternative encouragement for you to remain home and attend charity balls with him. Besides, Clark was a bit too old…a little younger than Bruce but both men still had twenty years on you.

If age wasn’t the defining taboo, you had noted Clark was a gentleman who had the ability to make you laugh. If anything was to happen to Bruce or Alfred, you felt Clark would be the most reliable shoulder to lean against.

You rolled over and sighed, you held your blanket up to your chin and continued to ponder.

Clark Kent...he would be a decent husband, but did you have feelings for him? He was rather charming and undeniably handsome. It was something that you would probably lose sleep over in the future.

Clark had approached the topic very calmly, almost shyly, and Bruce had seemed to be expecting this. That made it obvious to your that Clark had asked your step-father first, and Bruce would not have let his best friend ask you if he did not approve first...Bruce in fact was smiling at dinner and that smile fell when you have your polite neutral response.

Suddenly the wine he had let your drink felt a little sickly in your belly. You excuses yourself as soon as you could to your bedroom.

You rolled over in your sheets and sighed softly, snuggling up under the thick duvet and nuzzling the thousand-dollar pillows. It confused you, but the more you thought about it, the less absurd it became. You giggled. Clark would make a very good husband, and you would be lucky to have someone such as him, of such a good but firm character, always with an easy smile or an encouraging word for you. And he had always been a good friend to you, respecting your interests in writing, sometimes babying you, which girls your age might find annoying but you didn’t mind.

The boys your age were so horny and stupid...immature. it was impossible to see them as providers for the families that they claimed to want for themselves.

So saying “yes” to Clark would feel a little weird to you, but what real reason was there to say no? Did you have someone else? You might’ve shared kisses along your teens in highschool, yet none of them swept you off your feet enough to like them.

You were just glad that Clark had agreed to let your think about it. His smile had been relaxed, and he showed no anger or resentment. His eyes did appear tighter, other than that it even seemed as if he had expected your hesitation and was willing to wait. Clark was always so understanding, why wouldn’t he be about such an important question like this?

You shut your eyes with a smile.

★★★

Meanwhile, the men remained downstairs in the library, in front of the fireplace, and Clark looked across the flames at his best friend.

“Are you sure you still want to go through with this Bruce?” he asked.

The men had known each other for years and had grown a close bond in friendship and other activities. And if course it was bound to slip from one man’s lips to the other about their depraved thoughts, desires and fantasies....it turns out they shared a common denominator... You.

Over a month ago they were sitting in the same place discussing the same issue about to occur...losing you.

They knew if you left for college, you’d meet some cocky asshole studying to be a lawyer or doctor, get pregnant, get married quickly only to suffer a uncommitted marriage and end in a heart breaking divorce.

What type of men would they be if they watched their favourite girl fall to such demise as that!?

Bruce had married your mother when you were fourteen and he was the best dad you could ever ask for. He helped with your homework and taught you to swim while he paid for your mother’s chemo therapy.

When she died three years ago, you’d just finished highschool. You were totally shattered and put off summer break and college until you knew you were prepared. But now Clark had dumped the marriage proposal.

Clark sighed. His best friend's idea wasn’t totally a surprise to him. Bruce had planned this.

Clark recalled how Bruce was constantly looking out for you; his protectiveness as a stepfather, while perhaps misguided, was undeniably apparent. It was clear that he cared about you deeply and had shown no interest in any other woman since the passing of his wife—your mother. Clark often caught Bruce gazing at you with a loving and compassionate gaze, as if he were contemplating the best way to look after you.

During those days Clark was scared to share his own perverse thoughts...oh how the man wanted to look after you. You always were so lovely around him, so eager to gain his attention and praise, perhaps as another fatherly figure she could cling to...It wasn’t hard for Bruce to see that Clark loved you dearly and was clearly proud of your accomplishments. Clark was proud like a second father.... Except he wanted to do things no father should ever do to their little girls. He almost lost it one day when he walked in on you, on your hands and knees scrubbing the carpet before Alfred could find the stains you’d made when stealing some red whine from Bruce’s cellar. Your skirt was a tad too short, the hem pulled up over your ass cheeks and crotch. Clark held back from ripping those white nylon leggings with those cute pink panties and shoving his cock deep in your tight cunt.

He wondered if Bruce ever found out about the stain...he touched himself imagining Mister Wayne spanking his wayward little minx of a daughter over his knees.

Clark wanted you. Bruce wanted you and the moment they both figured it out, neither of them could judge each other for their thoughts....

They decided Clark would ask for your hand and the billionaire of Gotham would give his best friend his blessing – on one condition.

The idea was foul and taboo, and Clark was not sure whether he should deny to it or not. But this was his best friend, the loving step-father who cared about the young woman Clark wanted to marry as much as he did if not more. You had shared things in the past, and whenever you had debated or ‘fought’ over things, it was always light hearted, and never bitter.

“Of course I do, if not now then not ever Clark....” Bruce replied with a brief nod, “Tonight might be the only chance we get.”

Clark nodded slowly for a moment. Yes, he cared for you and had done so for a long time. He was happy that when he asked, you had not acted with shock or revulsion. But you had seemed surprised and hesitant, and he could not blame your for being shy and uncertain.

“What if she says no?” he asked.

Bruce’s eyes darkened, “She will...at first. Are you capable of pushing through that Kent?”

The super man smirked sickly. Of course he could. Clark nodded.

“She is going to be scared,” Bruce replied with certainty as he slowly turned his head towards the stairway out in the hall that led to your wing of the mansion, “I have been expecting this since her mother died, I doubt she remembers that night…”

Clark sighed, “I recall you letting her drink. She was a giggling and crying mess when I carried her to her room to have a nap.”

Bruce curled his lips inward, and he nodded. The silence grew strained.

Clark’s eyes furrowed in curiosity, “Bruce…are you hiding something from me?”

“She…” his friend paused, his grey eyes grew hazed as he looked into the flames, “When you left, I went to check up on her,” he thrummed his fingers on his chin, “She was touching herself Clark... and I caught her and…well…she…” his eyes met the other man again.

Clark sat back in his leather seat, his throat bobbed, “You watched until the end?” the was no judgement merely a question to acknowledge what had happened.

The other man nodded again and continued, “I came in after she finished, she was half out of it. So when I tucked her in, she kissed me…fully…and…god Clark…she- she’s so beautiful, I can’t watch her go off to college.…”

The journalist exhaled and clenched his jaw.

And Bruce sighed, “That’s why my little girl is going to be pregnant tonight.”

Clarks eyes widened, his lips parted hesitantly. That was not in the original plan...He paused and struggled to find the right words. Bruce had given Clark the greatest opportunity and the wrong word would revoke all that granted privilege.

“We both care about you,” the billionaire sucked his teeth, “Forget what the tabloids will say. They are hypocrites with absolutely no moral sense. Afterall mr superman, aren’t you rubbing shoulders at the daily planet, surely you can take care of the backlash? We aren’t blood related and c’mon we have a right to her better than anyone on this cold spinning rock. With my wealth and your muscles, who else would take better care of her? No one else!” Bruce said fiercely, although his voice was a whisper, his eyes narrowed slightly.

Clark found himself frozen in place, his eyes locked on his friend’s face. It took him a moment to process all the emotions and thoughts that surged around inside him. Finally, he managed to nod his head slowly, as he tried to take in the unexpected turn of events.

“Okay Wayne,” his lips broke into a dark chuckle, “Lets go put a baby in our little girl.”

The wooden door your bedroom creaked open slowly. A bit of light from the hallway made its way past Bruce’s bulk form, illuminating his step-daughter’s face. When he whispered your name, you did not stir, and he smiled to himself. He turned around to Clark and nodded. The two of them moved forward stealthily. Bruce carefully slid his arms under the blanket, finding your form before scooping it up. You stirred but did not wake. Bruce carefully carried you to his master bedroom, a place he scarcely let you enter for the obvious reason of what he kept secret in his drawers. Clark shut the doors and locked them, heaven forbid Alfred managed to walk into this event.

It would be more comfortable here for the three of you, and warmer with how Bruce kept an electric fireplace and big flat screen tv on the wall. The flames continued dancing cheerily as Bruce gently laid his step-daughter down, looking at you with a small smile.

Several moments passed before Bruce lowered his hand, gently moving his hand under your nightie chemise, his hot palm over your stomach. The mattress dipped on both sides keeping you balanced. Another set of fingers creeped up your thighs. Since the touches were so gentle, you did not stir so easily. Clark watched silently, his heart pounding as Bruce slowly lifted your hem up showing off a set of fresh underwear he allowed you to buy with the allowance credit card.

A cute pair of cotton white panties with a soft yellow duck print on top of the crotch. Clark swallowed hard. His thumb scarcely brushed over your damp apex. A small wet spot was beginning to spread. You softly cooed, still not awake…surely dreaming of something naughty by what Clark could smell.

Bruce glanced at Clark before looking back at you, and carefully untied the small strings that held the top bust of your nightie closed. His hands were steady as he parted the folds.

And there they laid their eyes on your breasts, Clark had to hold back a loud sharp intake of breath. Your nipples were perfect, and he found himself craving to suckle them. Your nipples hardened slightly as the slight coolness of the air tickled them.

You groaned softly, your eyelids fluttering open. You shifted and rolled over onto your side, looking around in confusion.

‘Where am I? Where’s my cuddle pillow?’

You rubbed your eyes and registered that you were with your step-father and Clark…on Bruce’s bed…. Both men were staring down at you silently, and you gasped when you realised your nightie was open. You held back a shriek and quickly whipped it closed before shoving the hem of your nightie down past your knees.

‘What am I doing out of my bed and with my chest exposed? Why we my nightie up so high? Did they see my underwear?’

Bruce's faint smile and Clark's gentle expression might have brought you ease, but the situation was too strange.

‘Why was my nightie been untied and opened? Why was it so far up my legs? Did one of them do it?’

The idea was...absurd. But what else would have happened? You were not in the habit of sleepwalking. You tied your nightie closed and quickly sat up, looking at the two men.

“I um…Is...something wrong, Dad?” you asked oh so innocent and naively as you sat up, feeling Bruce’s thick blue cotton blankets under your body. Bruce’s large and callused hand gently grasped your upper arm, softly stroking it as if to comfort you. His kind smile stayed on his face, unmoving even as he shook his head. His quiet demeanour continued to soothe you with each moment, despite the overwhelming emotions swirling through your mind.

“Nothing is wrong sweetheart, you-…” he breathed, his other hand caressing your cheek. Your step-father was an affectionate man, giving your mother and you hugs often whenever you wanted them, but in all these years...he had never caressed your cheek like this. His thumb ran softly over your lips intimately.

Briefly turning your head to inspect Clark, you found there was nothing about his body language denoting immediate danger. He even leaned in slightly and rested a hand on your knee, shifting even closer toward you.

You sighed softly in comfort...until he said, “You...Don’t need to be afraid....”

Your eyes widened, “Be afraid of what?” you asked. Like some strange horror, the dotes were slowly connecting. The air around you felt taut. You were confused and even Clark could hear how your heart was beating faster, anxiously. Your lips parted slightly, but what could you say, surely they weren’t going to…were they? Why were they looking at you in that way? Why did they look so...hungry?

Bruce smiled and leaned in, placing a kiss on your forehead directing your attention back to him. Without answering your question, he tilted your chin up and sealed his lips over yours in a gentle kiss, his lips pressing against you in a firm manner.

Your eyes popped wider as you suddenly pulled away from the kiss. While other boys had given you tender kisses before in your youth, none had done it quite as passionately as Bruce, your own step-father. His kiss was gentle yet deep, unlike anything you had experienced before. The sensation of his tongue inside your mouth and the minty flavour of his breath filled your senses, making you feel both awkward and ashamedly excited.

Having predicted the situation, Clark quickly got behind you. You felt his thick toned arms snaked around you in a caging hug, holding you firmly in place. Bruce smiled and put his hands on your hips, leaning in and quickly resuming the contact of your lips. You couldn’t lift your arms to shove him away. Your head was pressed against Clark’s chest, unable to break free although you wiggled about furiously, trying to move to the side.

Clark's arms held you in place firmly, pinning your own arms. His hands were spread across your chest and stomach, while his mouth pressed against the shell of your ear.

“Good girl,” he praised, “Stay nice and still for Daddy and me hm?”

He ducked his nose a deeper and traced his lips along your soft skin, kissing along the shape of it as Bruce deepened his seductive French kissing for a moment before breaking it. You had been unable to break it since his hands cupped your face. A soft whimper escaped your lips as Clark started licking along your earlobe, and you gasped softly when he suddenly blew on the wet trail he had just left.

“Easy baby, you need to calm down… Please,” Clark whispered softly, kissing your neck and ear as Bruce placed light kisses along your cheek.

Your step-father smiled and pinched the front of your nightie down and open just a bit to expose your shoulders and collar bone, which he lavished in more wet kisses.

The attention being given to you by both men were gentle, but the whole situation was frightening to you. You knew you should’ve tried to bite their ears, but how could you harm them? The two men you cared about? The man stroking you was your step-father, how could he want to do this? And more importantly, how could Clark just let it happen?

“Please,” you jerked your head back, fruitless from breaking away from their searing kisses, “Let me go...I need to sleep...” you whimpered softly.

“Sh- shh-hh...” Bruce shushed hotly, suckling gently upon the part where your neck met your shoulder. The skin there was sensitive, and you gave a soft cry when you felt him nip gently.

“... D-dad, Clark I-, please...don’t” you whimpered. You turned your head to look up at Clark, looking for an answer. Clark merely gave you that warm, wide smile and captured your lips, closing his eyes as he kissed you with a gentle passion.

Your lashes fluttered, his lips were soft and he was not nearly as forceful as Bruce. He coaxed you to comply. The tiniest of moans left your mouth and filled his.

You shifted again as your step-father worked at your nightie, tugging it open some more. You gave out a weak mewl when Clark broke the kiss. You trembled under Bruce’s dancing fingers.

“Did- did I do something wrong? Why are you doing this to me?” you asked, the corners of your eyes watered. Had your step-father been expecting you to say ‘yes’ to Clark? Was he mad at you? Why was he also here kissing you like this?

This was your own step-father, the man who had raised you since you were fourteen. The man that had married and fucked your own mother. The betrayal felt like a deep and sharp cut. Is this how he saw you? Just some girl he could manipulate when she was of consenting age? You felt sick...and angry. It was practically incest, it was an abomination!

You could barely contain the whimpers and spurting tears rising.

Your question was ignored as the two men made short work of your entire dress, two pairs of hands removing it while keeping your restrained. You could barely contain your squeals when the fabric ripped. Bruce grunted as he tore through and tugged the damn thing from your goosebump skin.

Clark's hands caressed your belly while Bruce's moved to cup your breasts.

Bruce gave a shuddering breath and weighed them in his hands. They were so soft and succulent. He had dreamed of doing this to you many times, for so long during your sweet innocent hugs he’d sneakily brush his fingers against your chest whenever he could to steal and imagine how great your tits would one-day feel in his hands.

All of his expectations were met, and exceeded. And there was still more to see, to explore.

“Please, tell me! Why!?” you demanded. Clark's grip on your arms were gentle but very firm, and you could not scratch either of them. Bruce smiled at you fondly. He cupped your cheeks again and cooed.

“You have done absolutely nothing wrong babygirl. This isn't a punishment. See... We both want you to know how much we love you,” his face leant for and licked at your salty cheek.

“And it’s not like you have a good reason to say no to Daddy and I.” Clark whispered while Bruce fondled your breasts, pinching the hard nipples between his fingertips in a careful way. Clark peered down at what his friend was doing and observed your soft breasts. He was eager for his own turn to feel them, but he was not going to rush his friend. They had agreed to share and be fair about it, and he knew Bruce was a man of his word.

“… No good reason to say no?” you asked, your heart pounding, although your question was barely more than a whisper. They both nodded. Clark smiled and kissed your cheek before touching his nose against it in a loving nuzzle.

He cupped and massaged one breast, giving a brief nod to his friend before shifting his eyes towards your other breast.

Clark moved one hand and took your right breast, which Bruce had offered, and began to fondle it while Bruce played with your left one. Bruce was firmer in his kneading, and Clark was gentle as his fingers skimmed along the underside of the mound, as if he was afraid of hurting you. Both hands felt so good on you, and you squirmed around, afraid to submit to any pleasure from this shocking situation.

“Please... please, let me go. I promise I won’t tell anyone about this, not even Alfred, please let me go now. Let me go. Leave me alone! I'm your step-daughter! Bruce! Y-you’re meant to be my Dad!” you pleaded, trying to get through to your step-father as he gave your breast a very firm, although not painful squeeze.

Bruce chewed his bottom lip and moved away. He got off the bed and watched his best friend touch you. He tugged at his tie and unbuttoned his blouse. His chest was covered in dark and silvery hairs. He fiddled with his belt buckle. His trousers fell to his ankles. His hand dove into his briefs.

Your eyes flooded with more tears. You were staring at Bruce’s erection.

“Come on princess...You know we won’t hurt you. Ever... Don’t be scared, relax, enjoy and be a good little girl…” Bruce said softly, climbing back on the bed he reached out and started caressing your arms.

You couldn’t help it, you screamed and tried to kick your step-father away with your legs as hard as you could. You hated that you had to hurt him like this. Clarks heavy hand clamped down on your squealing mouth

Bruce shook his head, slapping your kicking heels away. His lips curled into a mean sneer as he leant forward and tweaked your nipples, sending a jolt of pain through your chest.

You yelled out behind Clarks hand, trying to bite down on his palm. He didn’t flinch once. His nose flared, he was a little irritated with your teeth sinking into his skin.

“Better stop screaming sweetheart or Daddy’s going to have to put a gag in that little mouth of yours,” Bruce ground between his gritted teeth.

Your pleas were not doing the trick, and your desperate kicks weren’t either. They both played with your breasts and Bruce chuckled, drawing your nipple into his mouth and sucking firmly on the hard nub.

Clark bodily drifted his hand down between your legs, touching your duckling and creeping down further to your damp crotch. His fingers strong and hard, lazily rubbed in circles. Both of them seemed acutely aware of the pleasure that you were feeling at their attention even as you pleaded with them and tried to deny it. It only spurred them on and made them want your more.

“Daddy, stop it!” you wailed, “This is wrong and you know it too Clark!” you flung yourself backwards and tried to push the other male off you.

The man let your nipple free and looked into you's eyes. It had been so long since you had called him 'Daddy', having abandoned it for 'Dad' or just 'Bruce' in later years.

“Pumpkin…” he said, grabbing your wrists, giving Clark enough time to move away. Bruce pushed you back hard onto the mattress and sat on your ankles, holding your wrists down as he clouded you in his body. He hovered above you. You trembled violently, weeping hard.

“This is going to happen, and there’s nothing you can do or say to stop it,” his head lifted, “You finished stripping Clark?” he asked.

Your eyes flashed up. Your point of you made the world appear upside down. Clark sat his glasses on the bed side table...it was the last thing he wore.

“Bottom drawer, there’s a roll of duct tape.”

Clark nodded and pulled it out. The colour surprised him ...it was pink. Clark planned to use it on you one way or another, no matter what

Bruce trailed his nose across your face and pressed his lips to your forehead, “Trust your Daddy. Have I ever done anything to you that proved harmful?” Bruce asked softly, his blue eyes filled with a pleading for your understanding. You fell silent as you slowly shook your head whimpering and breaking down at the tearing sound of the pink duct tape. Bruce pushed your wrists together. The sticky sensation bound around your wrists tightly. He had always been such a loving step-father. But this went past the bounds of a step-father.

“No... b-bu-tt this-s... we're n-not...d-daddy, y-youre meant to be m-m-my dad-daddy...” Your voice was breaking, a soft pathetic whine as you pleaded, “Clar-k h-elp me.”

Bruce’s eyes glanced up at Clark. A tiny nod. Another rip and the tape was pushed flat against your sobbing mouth.

Clark rejoined you both on the bed and held your hands down for Bruce as the man bent down taking your nipple into his mouth again, his tongue rubbing it firmly as he suckled. A chest rattling gasp was muffled behind the tape.

Clark held you, massaging your other breast. You started to feel the fiery tingle between your legs. You were a virgin, but you were not stupid, and had touched that special place before...shame filled your mind because truly how much of a monster were you for being aroused by... your own step-father?

Despite the pleasure, you were afraid. You wiggled against Clark, twisting your arms and whining softly.

Clark's hands were gentle yet firm, and he held you in place even as you twisted. He moaned softly against your neck, and you felt the underside of his arousal along side Bruce’s, both touching the outsides of your thighs.

"Bruce...I need her,” he whispered, “Let me fuck your precious princess?”

The older man corrected softly humming, “Our precious princess.”

The two strong men lifted you up slightly from your laying down. You tried weakly kicked at them again before feeling Bruce slap the inside of your thigh and point a stern finger at your face.

“Enough. Don’t make me throw you over my knee babygirl.”

You sniffled and started to hiccup behind the tape gag. The tiny jerks from your body every time you hiccupped made the men’s faces soften.

You were forced to sit up on your knees and lay forward against Bruce’s chest. When Clark tugged your hips backwards, your bum was angled to the sky while your stomach laid in Bruce’s lap, your legs at either side of his torso. This caused your chest to be nestled into Bruce's lap, your breasts pressed against the hard hot flesh of his cock. You were effectively sandwiched between them, and wiggled around, trying to not think about your step father’s cock touching your nipple and switching against your skin.

His large hands touched your shoulders and laid it on your head, patting your hair softly. Clark's hands were at your rear, rubbing and kneading the cheeks and parting them slightly as he felt the pert rump. A soft playful spank made you jump and whine. You started sobbing again, wiggling against the firm grip of your step-father as he tried to soothe you. One of Bruce's hands cupped his cock and rubbed his precum into your swollen nipples.

You tried to kick at Clark as you felt his hands on the waistband of your panties, and you turned your face away from your step-father's throbbing erection that Bruce was raising to rub along your wet salty cheek. You tried to use your hands as leverage.

How was you supposed to get out of this situation? It was clear what they wanted to do and also clear that they would not be deterred. The combined forces of two fully-grown men, strong super humans at that, against that of a young woman, was quite overwhelming. They were not letting your go, and that was that. Bruce chuckled as Clark slid his step-daughter's panties down, exposing your pert ass. Clarks mouth looked dry...his tongue flicked out.

It was rather a lovely sight for Clark, and he sighed contentedly as he reached down to stroke your lower lips. You moaned softly, you used your knees to get away and to launch yourself up Bruce’s body. You managed to bury your face against your step-father's chest and the crease of his armour as you felt Clarks hot breath along your little glistening slit.

Soon Clark's fingers rose up to pet your wet pussy. He caressed the throbbing mound gently, fingers slowly pulling apart your slick nether lips. With one arm, he hooked it under your stomach and lifted your hips, forcing you back up higher on your knees. This allowed him to see your womanhood more clearly.

“How's it look?” Bruce asked calmly, stroking your hair and back in an attempt to soothe you, forgetting his own throbbing arousal for the moment as he tried to quieten your sobs.

“Ohh, Bruce, our little girl is so perfect,” he moaned, grinning as he gently felt your inner flesh with a finger. Your inner flesh peeked out shyly from your outer lips, like the petals of a flower. Bruce could not help but chuckle at Clark’s response as he ran his fingers along your spine, feeling your twitch and hearing a soft shudder come from the tape gag. He pressed his lips to your brow and hummed.

“Yea darlin’,” he broke into his relaxed southern drawl, “You goin’ tell daddy about how you probably used his credit card to wax this pretty pussy?”

Bruce’s eyes widened. His jaw dropped as he looked down at your eyes, pleading up at him wetly.

“It’s a real sculpted love heart...now who on earth is this for huh? Only little sluts get groomed like this,” Clark sat up and leant of you and Bruce. His lips pressed to the corner of your tapped lips, “Are you a little slut baby girl.”

Muffled sobs emanated from the girl as you pressed your face against your step-father’s chest and Clark paused. The men exchanged smirks.

“Have you let some boy fuck this cute hole Baby girl?” Clark breathed, softly, a mocking tone to his voice. He touched your side with his free hand, the other remaining at your mound but being idle, the finger now pulled out. Bruce looked down and gently tilted his step-daughter's chin up to look into your eyes. You looked very lovely with tear-stained cheeks, you had never looked more beautiful his eyes. His hand slowly ran along your cheeks, wiping your tears as he looked down at your tenderly.

“Sweetheart...My lovely little girl. You’re not in trouble, tell us the truth...” he said, softly, caressing your face. Clark bit his lip gently and resumed stroking your rear and your thighs, soon going back to rubbing your hot folds. There was no denying the pleasure, and he felt wetness.

You whimpered softly as you shook your head no while you succumbed under the gentle assault of four hands, all caressing and touching you in the most intimate and gentle of ways.

It was strange, they were not supposed to be doing this and you had been trying to fight them off. And despite all the fear, despite all the rough man handling, despite their mean mockery and degrading humiliation...your groin felt alive....You felt good,

You glanced back over your shoulder at Clark. He met your eyes and smiled. He pressed his lips to your forehead while his fingers were stroking and rubbing your intimate areas in a way that caused your to become wetter.

You hadn’t noticed how your crying was being replaced by snotty sniffling, and mewling moans.

Bruce smiled down at you when you turned your head back to him.

You felt his hand cup your bicep, pulling your bound hands up. You stretched your fingers. He held up his erection and pointed it to your palms

“Touch me baby,” he encouraged softly, “I trust you.”

You whimpered softly and shook your head, giving a sudden gasp with wide eyes as one of Clark’s fingers wiggled into you.

“Please...?” he purred lowly, smiling as Clark pressed second one inside and slowly scissor your insides. You let out a low shuddering moan as your step-father gently grasped your wrist, leading your hand to the swollen cock. Clark continued sliding his fingers in and out of you, before adding a third. Your walls clamped and tightened. You let out a soft hiss and were unable to stop yourself from pushing against Clark’s hand. The man then angled his fingers as he thrust them in slowly, causing them to press against a spongy place on your inner wall that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

Bruce smiled, his hand cupping over your bound hands so you were forced to grasp the base of his erection. You tried to remove your hand – but of course, to no avail. His thick rod was very warm and solid, you made a small noise as you felt it throb under your hand. You squirmed slightly under Clark’s attention, finding it difficult to breathe as a wave of pleasure washed over you.

Clark peppered a flood of gentle kisses along your soft cheeks as he thrust his fingers into you. Your step-father released a soft moan.

Your hand tightened and rubbed your step-fathers shaft weakily. Your shuddering breaths and fluttering eyes told Bruce everything he need to know about how well Clark was treating their special girl.

Your fingers slowly slid up and down the shaft several times, before you wrapped your fingers around it more firmly and did just as he guided, pumping it slowly and seeing the head seep with a bit more precum. His head tilted back a bit and he gave a low groan of pleasure. You looked up at him and saw how much he liked it, then whimpered, it was so strange how you could have the power all of a sudden. Curiosity, getting the best of you as you looked down at it. It was impressive-looking, and you were becoming slowly bemused to think that he wanted to put this in you.

You pumped more firmly, looking up at your step-father's face intently. He was no longer holding your down, so you pulled herself up just a bit, Clarks fingers followed you as you weakly tried balancing up and off Bruce’s chest. You continued your firm pumping of your step-father's engorged member. Now the taboo excitement of watching him moan and dig his nails into the bed sheets made you conclude that you were getting a thrill out of all this. It made you wonder if there was something wrong with you just as much as there was something wrong with him.

At fourteen, who could deny that little sweet highschooler you had a big crush on your step dad before it developed into crushing on his journalist friend Clark Kent, the very man with three digits up your sweet silky hole.

It was time. You could definitely not ignore the pleasure you felt from Clark, who was working slowly and tenderly at your throbbing sex.

You whined, arching your hips, your toes curling and flexing, something Clark found cute. He chuckled to himself, trailing his free hand along the back of one of your thighs.

Bruce’s hand rose up and grabbed your wrists, he pulled them away to gently stop you. He knew he wanted to cum inside of you.

You looked up at him in surprise and your eyebrows furrowed in curiosity, seeing him smiling kindly at you. Bruce pressed his lips against your forehead and chuckled.

“Are you trying to be a good girl now?” he asked touching the corner of the tape on your mouth.

You sniffled and nodded, moaning when Clark pulled his fingers out to trail down and rub into your pearlling clit.

He smiled, “Alright,” he whispered, “This is going to hurt-“ he said ripping off the tape before he finished his own sentence.

You yelped and hissed.

“Sorry baby girl,” he apologised.

Bruce then leant back against the pillows and watched you succumb to pleasure from Clarks speedy fingers. Your bound hands laid flat on Bruce’s chest, steading you from falling. Your fingers brushed and rubbed along his hairy chest.

Bruce cupped your waist and held you firm as he gazed at you showing your curious exploration. It was then he realised, you were touching some of his scars, covered by hair. Your eyes were growing softer...glassy...he couldn’t believe his luck...you looked the same as you did when you kissed him after your mothers death. If only he knew this was some sort of trance, a head space you were in all those years ago, he would’ve fucked you then.

Clark slid his fingers out of your and licked them clean. The pair, rolled you over onto your back.

You calmly glanced back at your step-father for a moment before returning your attention to the taller man, who was in a similar state of arousal as your step-father.

“My sweet little girl...” Bruce purred before kissing you deeply, his lips locking around yours passionately. Finally you found yourself leaning closer and meeting his same force. The wet sounds of your mouth and moans clouded any remaining sanity left in your mind. Your bound arms found their way around his neck, and he continued kissing you.

Clark waited patiently, knowing that he would have the soon enough, and watched as his friend lovingly cradled his step-daughter, continuing the hungry attentions. You were unable to resist kissing him back just as fiercely.

Soon your tongues came into the dance, with Bruce quickly gaining dominance, a sweet whine escaping you.

Clark smiled, and began to rub his shaft slightly. Bruce pulled away and pushed your bound hands off his neck. He shuffled your face to the side, pushing you to Clarks arms.

With bold confidence, you pushed up onto your knees and laid your loud hands behind his neck, pressing your lips to his. He playfully growled as your tongues fought, you lost and he hummed happily, eagerly exploring your sweet little mouth, his arms tightening around your body.

After a few more long moments of the passionate kiss, he broke it before licking up the strand of saliva that bridged your panting tongues. He grinned at you. You smiled and stared at him for a moment before looking down shyly. He saw this demure action and smirked.

“What’s wrong princess, still scared?” he asked softly, nuzzling your cheek. You continued looking down shyly. You had thought of asking Bruce who was watching you both, what your mother would have thought of what he was doing to his step-daughter, but you had no doubt that he had already thought of that.

Bruce cupped your waist and lowered his lips to your shoulders. His erection pushed against the swell of your ass.

Carefully you were pushed back onto the mattress. Bruce came up to put your head in his lap, languidly stroking your hair and cheeks as Clark rubbed your thighs. The man you had admired for so long spread them, eyeing your shuddering sex hungrily. Your body froze up, stiffening as it sunk in what was truly coming you squirmed around, pressing your knees together. You looked up at Clark pleadingly.

He sighed, disappointed. He leant behind him, reaching for the duct tape....was he going to duct tape your legs spread wide.

You panicked, “Are you doing this because I did not accept your marriage offer?”

“No.” he paused and didn’t grab the tape at all. He leant down and softly, kissed your lips chastely. Bruce leant down sand cupped the back of your knees, pulling them up and spreading them wide.

You shivered.

Clark touched your cunt gently and spread you open again. His face pushed forward, leaning in and licked from the bottom to the top of your slit. You had a sharp gasping intake as you felt the gentle licking there and you pushed his head away gently. Clark leaned back in and continued to lick you, lapping at the sweet wet with his thick tongue, resisting as you pushed at his head – although your pushes were fairly weak.

“You’re not being punished,” Bruce repeatedly assured you as if he read your mind, stroking your cheeks. Clark continued to lap at you.

“We just both think this would be a bit of....encouragement for you to stay baby,” Bruce purred, tweaking one of your nipples playfully.

You grizzled, “To st-stay?” your hips jerked a little as Clark sucked harder on your clit, your legs still held wide open by Bruce’s strong hands.

“Honey,” Clark murmured into your cunt, staring up at you with eyes that were mixed with lust, adoration and worship, “You don’t need to go to college when you have me and your daddy to heel you happy.”

Your voice caught in your throat, you couldn’t believe it...this was why? To keep you away from going to school? You bit your bottom lip. You would’ve been devastatingly hurt but with his tongue slipping inside and licking deep into your whole, you tossed your head backwards onto Bruce’s shoulder, crying out as a orgasm waved through your body.

“Clark, you can take her first,” Bruce softly granted.

“We can look at that sweet asshole another day and then,” your step father licked the shell of your ears whispering, “You’ll be allowed to fuck two big cocks at once down there.”

Clark got on his knees between your legs and Bruce steadied you, taking your hands into his own and squeezing them reassuringly before he let go. His large hands massaged your breasts, and reached down to rub your clit slowky as you felt Clark position himself, gently rubbing your slit with his tip. It had opened up to him through all of the loving attention, and was glistening with wetness.

Your eyes widened.

“Don’t… we shouldn’t…” you whispered, “Y-youre not wearing a condom.”

Bruce’s hands tightened around your wrists and lifted them pulling them backward to hook on his own neck. Your chest was so pushed up.

“It’s okay baby, we don’t need a condom,” Clark moaned, caressing your cheeks before his hands travelled down to your sides. He smiled kindly at you, and you found herself smiling back faintly, looking into his ice-blue eyes. You shivered as he slowly lowered himself, and the head of his cock gently nudged at your slit. You tensed a little, but felt your step-father massage your clit.

You gasped and arched a little when Clark penetrated you, and your step-father continued stroking you in a languid yet firm manner, his touches did much to soothe the passage and help you relax. You looked up at your Bruce for a moment, then back at Clark. Bruce tenderly caressed your cheeks and arms, while Clark's hands stroked along your sides. He was moving slowly, letting your get used to his girth, for he was almost as thick as his best friend. The wetness made it possible for him to move quite smoothly within you, and it was also so inviting.

It was tight and yes it was uncomfortable but with the support of Bruce’s hand, in no time, he was sheathed fully, and you stared up at him quietly feeling his balls pressed into your soft ass. He was heavy inside you, an unexpected pressure. The tip poked the sponge of your womb.

There was a few frightful seconds where all of you were silent save for your soft breathing. Bruce glanced at the tape, prepared to hear your screaming again...but it didnt come. And then Clark smiled lovingly down at you, comforting you at that moment, before leaning in and kissing your cheek.

“How do you feel?” he asked. You shyly huffed even more, but kept your eyes on him. You couldn’t decide whether to smile or grimace.

“I don't know. I... feel very full...” you replied softly, feeling Bruce’s fingers brush along your forehead.

Clark lifted your ankles up onto his shoulders and took a deep breath.

“The best part is yet to come, my sweet angel,” Bruce promised. Clark smiled, and began to gyrate his hips, sliding his shaft in and out of your tight cunt in a languid manner. The reaction was immediate. His cock dragged along your sensitive walls, and Bruce smiled as he watched his sweet little step-daughter squirm around in pleasure. Soon enough, he himself would be doing that to you.

Clark released a deep groan, clearly in bliss as he thrust into you. His speed was tempered and gentle, languorous, making sure that the length of his dick dragged along your gspot with each thrust to create that glorious friction. He wanted your first time to be something deep and tender. And it was working. You hissed and flexed your back into Bruce feeling Clarks entire cock within you as you clenched hard. It had hurt a little at first, but there was no denying the pleasure to be had, and the gentle caresses were doing much to heighten your experience.

“Sh-shit shit shit, oh my god, Clark! Clark I’m-”

Clarks gentle lovemaking pushed you towards your glorious shouting orgasm, and you cried out when you hit it, arching up against him, clenching around him almost painfully. You had ever felt anything so wonderful in your whole life! Bruce smiled as he saw this, and leaned down to place kisses along his mewling step-daughter’s face, massaging your breasts as he did so.

“Isn’t it wonderful, babygirl? Doesn’t it feel so good?” Bruce asked warmly. All you could do was nod. Clark shot you a charming smile, thrusting more firmly now, and he whispered your name when he finally came. Your clenching drew it out, and multiple shots of his seed squirted deep inside of you, filling your up.

Clark placed firm kisses along your face, remaining within your hot pussy for a few more moments. You turned your face towards him, nuzzling him back, as your lips peppered his cheeks, Clark started grinning happily. A few moments passed, some tender caresses, before Bruce chuckled and shifted. Clark looked up at him and smiled, sliding out of you a little too quickly. You whimpered pitifully at the stinging sensation of being emptied.

Clark laid beside you on his side as Bruce moved down the bed to inspect the mess his friend had created. Clark kept his eyes on you, he shot you another reassuring smile before propping your head up with his arm. He laid there relaxed and enjoying the waving endorphins made from his orgasm, still reeling from the pleasure that your sweet noises and tight pussy had given him.

Bruce gently rolled you onto your belly. Your cheek still pressed into the pillow made of Clarks bicep.

“On your knees, baby, stick that ass up for Daddy…” Bruce whispered. You huffed and wiggled your hips up, propping you up on your knees. It was a lovely sight, and he rubbed your behind, kneading the cheeks lovingly as he glanced at your swollen and glistening sex.

“Good girl,” he rumbled, patting your back softly.

You moaned softly, knowing what your step-father was about to do. At this point, you had given up on fighting off the two men, especially because it felt so good. You rested your head against Clark and sighed, staring at his eyes that gazed you lovingly. With is other hand, Clark stroked your face and hair softly as you awaited for your step-father to take you, your heart thundered with anticipation.

Bruce took a moment to admire the glorious vision before him. Your sweet pussy glistened, dripping and dribbling out the creamy white Clark had squirted deep inside. Your outer lips were swollen from the recent coupling you had. Your rear end glowed under the light of the bedroom lamp, looking so plump and inviting.

“You’re so gorgeous, princess. How Clark and I resisted you for this long, god only knows,” Bruce chuckled and rubbed your bum.

You gave out a soft but contented sigh before he was pressing the head of his needy pole against his your slit, rubbing it up and down the opening a few times. You moaned softly and squirmed a little, but made no real attempt to flee.

Bruce grabbed your hips and gave a strong thrust, his cock sliding inside of you to the base with little effort despite your tightness. You whimpered out softly, in slight pain but more in surprise, and looked over your shoulder at your Step-father again.

Clark wolfishly grinned at you, as Bruce’s hips immediately thrusting back and forth. He pounded into you, hard and fast, your body quivering under him.

Clark’s lovemaking had been languorous and gentle, more than suitable for your first time. But Bruce’s way of taking you was savage and primal. Despite it...you found yourself enjoying this as well. It was rough and deeply bruising. You would be able to feel it tomorrow.

Bruce was not hurting you, it was not unbearable agony as he slammed his hips fiercely. Clark watched with half-lidded eyes, listening to your whines and touching your face every now and then as if to reassure you.

Bruce punched his cock into you with the ferocity of an animal in heat. You were so wonderfully tight and hot that it was impossible to just hold back.

“F-Fuck, Daddy!!!”

The way you responded to him, arching towards him and making small sounds of pleasure and mewls of pain only spurred him on even more. His heavy balls slapped against the back of your thighs, and you strangled around him with your walls. He gave out a low growl as he cummed, creaming deep inside.

You whimpered out another heightened, ‘Daddy!’ as your body quivered, your teeth chattering just slightly.

You bit your lip almost hard enough to cause it to bleed as you hit another orgasm, your eyes rolled back and clenching around him hard, trapping his cock inside with your tightness.

You looked at your step-father over your shoulder as he continued thrusting in you, his cock remained erect for a few moments before slowly becoming flaccid. You looked over at Clark then back at Bruce, whimpering out 'Daddy' again as you felt cum dribble down your opening. He stayed within your cunt for a while, panting as he relaxed his muscles. Smirking, he pulled out of your tightness and stroked your rump.

“Good girl baby...”

You remained on your knees for several more moments, cum still dribbling out a little as he traced his fingers along the firm curve of your rear end. What you had been through was unbelievable. You had just been dominated and fucked by the two men you cared most about in the world...one of them was your step-father. It seemed almost too impossible to believe, like it all had to been some sick dream- any moment you would wake up to find yourself alone, dressed, inside your own bed....But did you want this to be a dream?

The more you thought, the less sick it seemed to be...morally it was wrong...but at the end of the day, you weren’t related and Bruce was sure to take care of you just like he always had along with your own mother. Your mother might not have approved if she was alive...but...there was nothing she could do now.

And Clark was just as caring and understanding of your passions....So both clearly loved you, very much....

You felt Clark caress your cheek once more, and you looked to him as your hips fell down limp. He offered you a smile before leaning over to press his lips to your forehead.

“You did so well darlin’.”

You shyly smiled, feeling Bruce lay down behind you.

You felt Bruce slide something cold between your wrists and slice through the pink tape.

Your eyes fluttered. You could hear Bruce put that sharp object most likely a knife in his bed side drawer.

He cupped your wrists and gently massaged them, kissing the raw area. He then scooped you up into his arms, holding you close, as if he wanted to rock you to sleep. You rolled onto your back and looked between them. They were two content lions gazing down at the sweet kitten in their bed. Both of them held pleased but loving expressions on their faces, and you smiled shyly a little and buried your nose in into the blue sweat soaked sheets. Under the gentle embrace and caresses, you closed your eyes.

You felt one of them, you didn’t know or care who, pull up a duvet, covering your quivering body. The men sighed happily at one another as you snuggled sweetly between them.

It was a fact to acknowledge with their cum growing dry on your thighs how they now would never let you go. They would take you in the morning, and whenever either of them pleased from then on. You were there’s...you belonged to them, and they would always do everything to prove their desire for you. You fell asleep in their embrace, you pressed your face into Clarks chest, while you pressed your backside into Bruce’s hips. snuggled up to both of them, while their affectionate caresses and whispers lulled you to sleep.

★★★

When morning arrived it was still pitch black thanks to the roll down tinted glass windows.

Bruce’s grey his eyes cracked awake slowly, to the sounds of your soft snoring. Your soft cheek was pressed against his chest after the night of shuffling you must’ve done in your sleep. ‘What a wonderfully sweet thing to wake up to,’ he thought, smiling as he traced his fingertips gently along your other cheek. He looked to his left at the big bulk of a man under the covers.

Clark was still sleeping, his arm was covering your hip. Your plump rear end was against his stomach, and Bruce smiled at you both.

Your sweet drooling face stirred slightly as your cheek was caressed, but you remained asleep. Being cushioned and cradled in the warmth of two big men had surprisingly helped you to sleep well, as you had been so comforted by the obvious affection they had shown you. If they didn’t care about you, they would have simply raped you bloody and never paid mind to your pleasure they never would’ve focused on your feelings and overall care.

Clark loved you and wanted to be your husband, he had been serious when he asked for your hand in marriage. It was in the plan but Bruce knew Clark wanted to ask ages ago...

And Bruce loved you too, he wanted your utmost happiness but he desired your overall safety and company. If you left for college he wouldn’t know when he’d see you again...if ever...considering you held no real “blood” obligation to him.

Clark and he were good friends, and sharing you had been a odd thought at first, but last night proved that it would work out well between the three of you. And it was very comfortable, and would continue to be comfortable – after all, both of them wanted your happiness, love and companionship.

Bruce pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Wake up, baby girl, it’s daddy...” he whispered into your ear, gently nibbling along your earlobe. Your eyelids fluttered open and you whimpered softly, a bit disoriented at first as was common on waking up in a place so different to your bedroom but the disorientation faded as you rubbed your eyes and turned your head upwards a bit to look up at the eyes of your doting step-father smiling softly down at you.

“Good morning, Daddy...” you said softly, wiping the sleep away from your eyes and blinking a few times as you felt a hand caress along your hip, you didn’t know who it belonged to, but did that even matter?

“Good morning, sweet angel... Did you sleep alright?” he asked, caressing your hair. Clark stirred but did not wake. You shyly nodded. Last night was beyond taboo and though you were not entirely angry or disgusted, it would take a bit getting used to.

“I am glad...” Bruce replied before he chuckled softly and fondled your side. He looked over at Clark and smiled.

“...Will you marry him?” he whispered, kissing your cheek. You stared at him for a few moments before nodding slowly. You did not see why not – Clark was a good man and you had no interest in anyone else.

Bruce nodded, smiling happily. He was ecstatic that you had accepted Clark’s hand, and now you would be truly a family inside Wayne’s manor.

“What about you, Daddy?” you asked softly as your step-father’s hand gently caressed your side, “....Don’t you want me anymore,” your eyes glanced away in embarrassment considering how pathetic you sounded asking....

“Mmm,” he pecked the tip of your nose, “Clark and I already discussed this...I would like to keep our closeness when you are wed... Clark and I have shared many passions in the past...towards each other and it does not bother him.”

Your eyes started to widen. You didn’t know your step-dad was just as sexually active with men.

“He really agrees to this? You two... have no problem with... sharing?” you whispered as you rolled over onto your back to gain a more accurate gaze upon Bruce.

“Not at all...” he chuckled, “We are too good a pair of friends to fight over something wonderful like this as spectacular as you.” He stated.

You smiled and looked down shyly. He looked over at Clark once more and smirked almost deviously.

He reached out and playfully thumbed your nipples.

“Baby girl, it looks like Clark is a heavy sleeper...how about you go and wake him up for me?” His tone was seductive, and low. You could see from the corner of your eyes the two hardening peaks growing out of the bed sheets.

Bruce pushed his side down and cupped himself, using his enclosed first like a sight hole.

“C’mon baby, go wake up your other daddy,” he groaned.

You gasped and flushed even more as you stated at your step-father for several moments before carefully crawling over to Clark again.

You placed a gentle kisses along his face, saving his lips for last. Your hand caressed along his smooth chest, slowly making its way down to his morning organ. His nipples were given attention, your fingers teasing over the pink nubs and making them taut. Your palm felt along the toned muscles of his abdomen, and stroked the coarse dark hair above his cock, teasing your fingers along the treasure trail. The thin hairs had started as a thin, tapering line several inches below his navel, and spread out gradually to the thatch over his cock.

Bruce watched calmly, not at all bothered by his friend’s nakedness. He did not stare at Clark either, he just watched with interest at what you, his step-daughter was doing. You had such a lovely soft hand. You slowly patted the neither hairs as you started sucking on Clark’s angry red tip.

You flattened your tongue and looked over, making full eye contact with Bruce While he jerked off languishingly. He smirked and winked at you.

“Suck his cock babygirl, suck Papa’s cock.”

Papa...Daddy...oh god...what were you getting yourself into.

You leant your face down, filling your cheeks with the tip of his pink cock tip. Your tongue raised around the skin and flicked under the folds. You tried not to think about the smell but the taste alone. It was bitter, salty and a little tangy.

“M-mmh...” Clark let out a soft noise of pleasure, face blissfully slack. His manhood stirred and began to rise a bit, the touches arousing him even when he slept.

“Clarkkkkk...” Bruce cooed in a soft purr, gently touching his shoulder while you lapped at his foreskin, and Bruce started growing aroused, wanting to stick himself inside of you as he had a grand view of your little cunt, dried with flakes of white on your skin.

At the mention of his name, the man stirred and opened his eyes, smiling a bit, raising a hand to lazily wipe the sleep from his eyes.

“A-ah...Good morning...” he said, blurrily looking down at what you were doing. You smiled sweetly and placed a gentle kiss on his tip as you brought him to full attention.

“Clark?” you asked softly.

“Yes sweetheart?...hngh...” he shuddered, shifting a bit, his cock rising further. Bruce shivered, running his fingertips along your rear.

“I will be your wife,” You whispered softly. He tilted his head, and a wide grin came to his face. Hooking one arm around your arm he tugged you up to him to abandon you morning blowjob. He sealed his lips over yours in a gentle kiss. When you parted, he purred.

“Thank you sweet girl, I vow to always cherish you like last night and every encounter we’ve met.” His words made you giggle happily, as you had no real doubt of his respect for you.

He heard the fwapping sound of Bruce masturbating, watching you.

“Have you talked Bruce?” he added.

Your lashes fluttered.

“I accept him as well. I...I will stay home. College can wait or I can try online courses...You can both have me,” You whispered. Bruce ran a fingertip along your slit. You shivered and moaned, wiggling your rear end at Bruce as you kissed Clark again, your hand returned to slowly pumping his engorged organ.

Bruce smiled, he rubbed your slit gently and lazily, feeling the flesh quiver a bit and begin to slicken up. Clark moaned softly into your lips and his hand moved down, cupping one of your breasts and carefully kneading it, plucking at your nipples. You gave out a soft whine of pleasure and looked at Clark for a moment before looking back at Bruce.

“Daddy...” You pouted, “...stop teasing me.” You reached out to his cock with your other hand. In each palm you held two thick cocks at the same time and went about squeezing and licking them like a game....unwittingly teasing them both to release. The men both gradually sat up on their elbows. Before either of them could cum however, you let their cocks go and sat back, facing them with a childish smirk, biting your lip.

If they wanted to be depraved, you could be too...you wondered if they’d tie and gag you again. Would they pushed you around manhandle and humiliate you again?...a real sensational thrill soaked your bones at the thought. What a fantastic opportunity to test that theory...

You didn’t leave that room for probably three whole days except to use the master bathroom...

Alfred decided not to intervene.. after all it was Master Wayne he was paid by, not you.

742 notes · View notes

gepardling · 1 year

Text

late night R&R w/ gepard.

desc. : Gepard returns home late after his patrols, but the last thing he expects to see is you still awake, let alone your fingers stuffed in your sopping cunny... (wc : 2.7k)

tags / cw : nsfw, afab!reader, lots of kissing, tooth rotting fluff, sex, lots n lots of sex, cunnilingus, size kink (?), unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it!), praise kink, pussydrunk!gepard, masturbation, lil bit of overstimulation, petnames (baby, good boy, geppie, my love), not proofread! i wrote this based on vibes alone

It was shameful how something as innocent as your kisses could get Gepard all hot beneath the collar. Your kisses were gentle, quick, and very, very numerous. They were passionate, fiery and filled with your love for him. They were supportive, caring and understanding. Everything that Gepard could ask for, he found in your kiss.

That is, of course, until he remembers where else those lips of yours kissed him last week…

STOP. A blistering heat creeps up Gepard's neck as he tries to mentally will those invasive thoughts to go away. To focus on the task at hand. To finish his patrols and ensure the safety of the people of Belobog. But when he thinks of you all alone at home his heart goes soft, and his mind begins to wander again.

He thinks about your gentle touch, your innocent doe-like eyes, your soft hair, your plush thighs, your pillowy breasts…

…

Okay, that's enough now. Gepard tugs at his collar, a pathetic attempt to dissipate the heat locked under his uniform. Just one more block. One more block and he could return home to you and your awaiting arms. It was getting harder to focus by the minute, with Gepard's mind becoming clouded by thoughts of you. He hadn't even realised he had walked straight home on autopilot until he was about to open the front door.

His hand hesitated on the doorknob. He didn't even finish his patrols, but it was so late already. You must be fast asleep by now. Part of him wanted to turn around and finish his duties but… Gepard felt guilty. He had been very busy lately, working late nights and often not returning home until the next day. At least he spends less time on the frontlines, but even so it doesn't help his workload much.

With a heavy heart, Gepard pushes open the front door and steps inside. The lights are already off, so he figures you must be in bed. The clanking of his armour makes him wince, sounding much louder in the quiet house than he first anticipated. Carefully, he removes his boots and gloves, leaving them in their respective spots. He decides to retreat to the kitchen for a glass of water before bed.

But Gepard stills in his tracks when he hears a faint noise. The softest of mewls peeling beneath the crack of your shared bedroom door. His immediate thought was to check if you're having a bad dream. But the closer he inches to the door, the more flustered he becomes. When he stops in front of it, the realisation fully sets in. First of all, you were not having a bad dream. And second of all, you weren't asleep at all.

He needs a moment to prepare himself before he opens that door, knowing what awaits him on the other end doesn't settle his nerves in any way. It's not that he was scared but you always had this way of making his heart race, to challenge his fight-or-flight response. He takes a moment to still the thudding in his chest, to try and ignore the way his pants feel a lot tighter than they did 5 minutes ago. But what he hears next makes his head spin,

"Geppie… Ahn-... A-Are you home yet?" your voice weakly calls to him through the door. Shit…

He opens the door slowly, and the sight makes his breath hitch. You're lying on your shared bed, 2 fingers stuffed deep in your cunny and your thumb desperately rolling your puffy clit. You weren't wearing your usual nightdress, but rather one of his shirts, bunched up around your tits. It was almost shameless, the way you held eye contact with him, desperately gasping with teary eyes.

For a moment he was glued in place, eyes fixated on the motion of your fingers, the way your arousal pooled around your ass on the sheets. You stop your lewd actions and move to sit up. But then he found himself moving, moving way too fast, and almost crashing onto his knees at the foot of the bed. In one swift motion, he scoots you forward on the bed and nestles his face into your soft thighs, quietly exhaling against your skin.

"I'm sorry I'm late, my love," he begins.

"I missed you, baby…" you reply, wrapping your arms around his head and pulling him in to hug you.

"Missed you too," he breathes out, muffled by the skin of your tummy. The sensation tickles, and you giggle a little before tilting his head upwards.

"Geppie… You seem exhausted…" you tut, gently raking your nails across his scalp. Almost instantly, he relaxes in your embrace. The small act makes his nerves melt away.

"Mhmm," he hums, eyes closing momentarily. But when he opens them again, the light in them changes to something a little… bolder. "Are we going to ignore the state I just found you in?"

You gape your mouth a few times, probably akin to a goldfish. A deep blush crept up your neck, and your loins felt a little bit hotter than before. You honestly forgot about that for a moment, being caught up in Gepard's emotional state. You bit your lip before replying, "I- uhm… It's nothing. You're tired, we should go to sleep."

"Don't wanna neglect you again…" he whines, nuzzling against you. Before you could tell him otherwise, he starts trailing gentle kisses down your stomach, onto your thigh. Lips hovering so close to where you know you need him, but…

"Gepard… It's fine. You don't have to- Ah..!"

He latches his lips onto your clit, and begins to gently suck the tiny bud. You subconsciously find yourself gripping his hair, pulling his face closer to your pussy. He lets out a groan at the sensation, the act sending sinful vibrations across your womanhood. He brings a hand up to your clit and pops his mouth off, darting his tongue out to meet your hole. He starts off slow, gently licking your mound, before nearly stuffing his face into your cunny to fuck you with his tongue.

The movement is sudden and it has you jerk forwards, letting out a loud moan at the feeling of his mouth on you. The longer he goes, the sloppier he gets, making a mess of his spit and your arousal across your thighs. You're nearly folded double, arms holding his head to keep your grip on reality. The sound of him eating pussy like a man starved is obscene, and only adds to your moment of bliss.

But when you start to see a light, what starts off as a white pinprick in your vision grows to a blinding flash. The knot in your core that builds and builds suddenly snaps and you come undone with a hoarse cry. You fall backwards onto the bed as Gepard helps you to ride out your high, placing gentle kittenlicks on your cunny. But when be doesn't stop there and keeps going, your post-orgasm bliss is interrupted.

"W-Wait… Geppie, what are you- Ah… Ahn!" Your voice cracks feebly and you try to push his head off your overstimulated clit, but your arms are too weak to make any difference. You try closing your thighs and scooting back on the bed, but Gepard has you locked in place. He wraps one hand around your thigh and places the other on your abdomen, lightly pushing down.

The sensation is far too much, and you're left arching your back and gripping the sheets behind you. You bite your lips in a poor excuse to try and die down the sounds bubbling from your chest, and subconsciously buck your hips against his face. All coherent thoughts are torn from your mind as you reach your second climax, Gepard's name ripping from your throat.

When he sits back up, his chin is practically glistening with your juices, and his breathing is ragged. A crimson blush is spread across his cheeks, nose and ears. You could swear he has hearts in his eyes as he looks at you with the most adoring, innocent gaze, something almost unbelievable given the acts he just committed.

"D-Did I do well?" He huffs out, almost somewhat embarrassed to ask. You nod your head and thread your fingers through his hair.

"Yes, baby… Did so good f'me…" your reply comes out slurred.

Gepard places one more kiss on the inside of your thighs before he stands up and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, the sight alone making you press your thighs together. A new warmth bloomed between them, but you were too shy to admit that, already feeling guilty about keeping your lover awake. He discards his uniform and gets back on the bed, taking his place next to you with an arm draped over your middle.

You hum, turning to face him before planting a kiss on his nose. But one kiss turns into many, and before you know it, Gepard's flustered gaze meets yours. Gently, you trail your hand down his chest, coming to stop just above his member.

"You don't have to," he almost stammers, but you press a kiss to his lips to silence him.

"It's my turn to take care of you, Gepard." You whisper against his lips as your hand finally meets his throbbing length. He's already so worked up, just from eating you out, immediately letting out a gasp as you thumb his tip. Tiny pearls of pre bead at his tip, which you eagerly swipe away as you massage the head of his cock. Your hand drags up and down his length tantalisingly slow as you press open mouthed kisses against his neck.

Gepard can barely keep himself sane, small gasps echoing into the night. You move to sit over him, straddling his hips on either side with your thighs. You continued stroking his length, fingers dancing across his girth as you supported your weight with one hand on his chest. His expressions were absolutely divine, he looked ethereal. The moonlight cast a halo over his golden hair, your good boy taking all the love you lathered over his cock.

"You're so pretty like this, Gepard…" you breathed out, hand increasing the speed with which you stroked him, drawing out more and more cries of bliss from his lungs. Seeing the way he reacted to you, and you alone, was enough to make your heart flutter and pussy clench around nothing. You maintained your pace, unfaltering, until with a groan Gepard released white ribbons of cum into your hand, over himself and the sheets.

"Such a good boy for me," you whisper, leaning down to place a few more open mouthed kisses on his lips. He whines and meets you halfway, reciprocating your sweet love with no hesitation. You can feel his half-hard cock press into your thigh, and he does too. His hands grab your hips and slowly push and pull your folds across his length, still not quite satisfied. You gasp and moan when the head of his cock catches onto your clit, with every drag of your soft body over his lean one.

It takes all your willpower to push yourself up off of him, before reaching down to align his tip with your entrance. The blunt head rests snugly against your hole, and the size makes you hesitate for a moment. Gepard gives your hip a reassuring squeeze, and you slowly begin to sink down on his cock. The stretch burns, a dull ache reverberating through your lower half as you try to fit him all inside. Crystalline tears bead at the corners of your eyes, and Gepard immediately takes notice of them.

"We don't have to-," he begins, worry laced in his tone, but you cut him off swiftly before he can pull out.

"I want to…" as you grab at his free hand, guiding it towards your clit, gently rubbing it in slow circles. Your pussy clenches around him, and you both gasp at the sudden tightness, but eventually your walls relax. Gepard was worried he might cum prematurely at the sight of you trying to stuff yourself with his cock, the way your pussy fluttered around him each time you sank a little lower was almost too much for his brittle resolve. Bit by bit the stretch eases as you seat yourself fully on his cock, and he lets out a low groan when it disappears entirely from his vision.

You both still momentarily, attempting to catch your breath and get used to the way he splits you open. Then, you slowly rise, leaving only the tip inside before dropping back down. The head bumping your cervix is almost enough to cripple you with pleasure, he's so big it's unavoidable. You set a pace for yourself, riding his dick with vigor. The burn in your thighs felt good, each hump rewarded with the grind of his head against your spongy spot that oozes the love juice out of you.

Gepard's jaw goes slack with pleasure, head tilted back into the fluffy pillow. His hands had an iron grip on your hips, helping you along and stuffing himself deeper into your core with every thrust. The pressure was building up again, it was blistering hot, getting closer and closer to your release but not quite making it. It's messy. It's sticky. It's wet. With every rise of your hips he can clearly see the white ring at the base of his member. Both your mixed arousals coating his abdomen and leaving dainty strings in its wake.

The ache in your thighs had started to overpower the pleasure, and Gepard noticed the way your pace faltered. Despite being barely coherent himself, Gepard could tell enough to pinpoint that you must be getting tired. He couldn't really think straight in the moment either, but his natural instinct was to help you out, yeah? In one swift move, he has you underneath him, one hand pushing your thigh up to your chest and the other holding your wrists together, tugging you into him with every thrust.

The sudden change startled you, Gepard was never really this forward to begin with. But you couldn't deny the way you loved to be at his mercy for once. This new position squeezed your tits together even more, and every thrust dug deeper into your core. You turn your gaze upwards and meet Gepard's eyes, who is absolutely drunk on your cunt right now. There probably wasn't a thought in that little head of his, other than railing you into next Tuesday.

The way he groans and whines makes the room heat up a little, slurring out little please's and thank you's. You'd be lying if you said you didn't find it incredibly endearing, his worship and praise for you was unending and overflowing. You could barely keep up with his pace too, leaving you a mewling mess sprawled beneath him. Just a few more thrusts until you'd-...

With a sudden cry, Gepard's name dancing on your lips, you come undone once more that night. Your throat was hoarse by now, kiss-swollen and bitten lips pursing together pathetically to silence your cries. The way you clenched around him led Gepard towards his tipping point as well, thrusting one - two - three more times before he buried himself as deep inside your cunny as possible.

Ribbon after ribbon of his cum shoots into your womb, and Gepard rides out his high with shallow grinds against your pelvis. Your already-overstimulated clit burned at the feeling, but you were too breathless to let out a peep. Gepard stills in your cunt for a moment to catch his breath, "S-So good f'me, you feel so good," he babbles incoherently. When all is said and done, he pulls back and sees the way his cum spills from your messy folds.

It takes everything in him to will his dick down again. "... Gepard?" Your innocent little voice bores it's way into his mind.

"I'm… uhm…" he coughs awkwardly before his hands find your hips again. "S-Sorry…" he stammers. Your eyes widen in alarm. That can't be…

"W-Wait what are you- Gepa-AH!"

(It's safe to say you didn't get much sleep that night)

i kinda like this interpretation of geppie 🥺🥺 soft n shy but sometimes his more duty-driven side comes out in the bedroom... I imagine you've been together 4 a while so he's more comfortable doing these tings ♥︎

#gepard smut #gepard x you #gepard x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #hsr x reader #gepard landau #gepard hsr #♥︎ | milky writes

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ad0rechuu · 1 year

Text

۪ ★ ۫ MILKY WAY ୨୧

based on milky way by seohyun

SYNOPSIS. ━━━━━ It’s not everyday that your friends childhood friend turns out to be the girl that you literally have a fan account for, but for Seonghwa, San and Mingi it’s become a reality. being able to get close to your bias is great! even if she does have a raging crush on someone else…

6mar23 | st. 09/03/23 / fn. 31/08/23

pairing. ━━━━━ college students! fans! park seonghwa, choi san, song mingi x fem! idol! reader (x idol! oc)

featuring. ━━━━━ ateez, kang seulgi (red velvet), fatou samba (black swan), park sujin aka swan (purple kiss), shin yuna (itzy), do hanse (former victon) oc, fem oc

genre. ━━━━━ smau, written, humor/crack, fluff, angst, suggestive, love square, idol/college au, strangers to friends to lovers, really slow burn, pinning, secret identity

warnings. ━━━━━ i’m not a native english speaker so my english might be a little off sometimes ! ! ! timestamps/sm numbers mean nothing, sexism/slutshaming, swearing, mentions of food/sex/serious topic, kys/kms and other questionable jokes, use of pictures for yn but only for reference (only of dark skin poc used), cyber bullying, ssngs, mental illness/anxiety, mentions of alcohol/drugs. small age gaps, more thorough warnings in the actual chapters, let me know if missed smth

notes. ━━━━━ the taglist is closed, spam likes are fine but consider reblogging with comments of ur thoughts (not only on my work but on other authors work too!) credits to the rightful owners of all the graphics n music

PROFILES. ━━━━━ SANRIO TRASH (STAR) ᜊ THE VIRGINITY CORNER (ATEEZ + YNS BBGS) ᜊ EXTRAS

PART 1. PRE TIME SKIP :

★ CH 000. prologue: HONGJOONG HAS FRIENDS?!

★ CH 001. CLONE FANTASY

★ CH 002. THE JASPER TO MY SHERLOCK

★ CH 003. SUS, VERY SUS

★ CH 004. DON’T LEAVE ME TALL FUCK

★ CH 005. EDIBLE SCENTED CANDLE

★ CH 006. MY LITTLE MEOW MEOW

★ CH 007. ONE OF THE GIRLIES

★ CH 008. SHES SO PRECIOUS!!

★ CH 009. IS YN OKAY?

★ CH 010. NO FANBOYING

★ CH 011. INTRODUCTIONS: PART I

★ CH 012. INTRODUCTIONS: PART II

★ CH 013. SUPER COOL AND HOT (RESPECTFULLY)

★ CH 014. AESPA WAS RIGHT

★ CH 015. GODDAMNIT PARK SEONGHWA

★ CH 016. WHAT THE H*CK

★ CH 017. I’M SO HASTAG SRS

★ CH 018. OPERATION: YNGYU

★ CH 019. HE’S UP TO NO GOOD

★ CH 020. PRAISE KINK ERA

★ CH 021. BAES JUST LIKE ME FR

★ CH 022. NVM Y’ALL HE RESPONDED

★ CH 023. TWO HEART EMOJIS

★ CH 024. RPS LEGEND

★ CH 025. KANG POMPOMPURIN

★ CH 026. BEGINNING OF A CHEESY ROMCOM

★ CH 027. WTFDYM

★ CH 028. IMAGINE NOT TALKING

★ CH 029. BLACK LIST SPEED RUN

★ CH 030. AS LONG AS SHE’S HAPPY

( EXTRA. ASK THEM ANYTHING EVENT:: PART i )

PART 2. POST TIME SKIP :

★ CH 031. BOMBASTIC SIDE EYE

★ CH 032. AS HOT AS I EXPECTED

★ CH 033. MY BABIES (AND KIM HONGJOONG)

★ CH 034. EVEN THE YANDERES

★ CH 035. DONGSAENG ZONED

★ CH 036. A STRANGE FEELING

★ CH 037. OLD FRIENDS

★ CH 038. I DON’T THINK I’M OKAY

★ CH 039. MINGI UR A PATHOLOGICAL LIAR

★ CH 040. LOVELY

★ CH 041. STEP BY STEP

★ CH 042. DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT

★ CH 043. OOPS

★ CH 044. WHATDIDIDOTOMYSELF

★ CH 045. LOVE LETTERS TO LEE HYORI

★ CH 046. LOSER DOESN’T EVEN DESCRIBE IT

★ CH 047. IF ONLY SHE KNEW

★ CH 048. LE’ ASTRE

( EXTRA. STAR’S 5TH MINI ALBUM :: LE’ ASTRE )

★ CH 049. FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT’S UNHOLY

★ CH 050. I’M ALRIGHT, I PROMISE

★ CH 051. BUTTERFLIES

★ CH 052. #STAR IS KILLING ME

★ CH 053. OK? OK! OK

★ CH 054. PURSUE HAPPINESS

★ CH 055. WHY DID YOU NEVER TELL ME

★ CH 056. THE TRUTH

★ CH 057. SERA WATANABE

★ CH 058. XD

★ CH 059. MILKY WAY

★ CH 060. LOVE

( EXTRA. ASK THEM ANYTHING EVENT:: PART ii )

ENDING O1.

★ 00i. PERUVIAN LILIES

★ 0ii. THE PRETTIEST

ENDING O2.

★ 00i. WHAT MAKES HIM, HIM

★ 0ii. LOM(OMMY)L

ENDING O3.

★ 00i. FINAL PUZZLE PIECE

★ 0ii. MINE.

★ AFTER WORD.

milky way © ad0rechuu, 2023. do not copy/repost.

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kaeddehara · 1 year

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EX BOYFRIENDS — NSFW

kaeya + heizou + cyno

♱ warnings | nsfw content, slight hate sex (kaeya/heizou), jealou sex (cyno), breeding, size kink(kaeya), implied sir/general kink(cyno/kaeya), bondage(heizou) |

♱ notes | kinda lazy posting cause i’m been so busy with work and school; also just sad cause i haven’t seen my boyfriend in 2 weeks ;( |

| KAEYA |

“k-kaeya slow down”,

you struggled out as he roughly continues taking off your clothing. the smell of alcohol distinct on his breath even when he so much as breathed next to you. all of this was wrong, every single aspect about it. but it’s not like either of you cared right? just a quick fuck for both of you right?

“you look just how i remembered you, pretty thing”

he teased while pulling at your hair, causing your back to arch at an almost painful state. not like it mattered though not when the feeling of his girthy cock filling you up over and over again made you overwhelmed with pleasure. kaeya always had such a tender touch even with how rough and often times uncaring it seemed, you could tell he did it out of the feelings he had for you. he noticed you drifted off a bit thinking his pace wasn’t enough for you and graping at your hips with ease. pulling you on his cock and making you take every last inch inside your tight, sensitive pussy.

“god so big…”

“bet you missed it didn’t you sweetheart?”

you could only bite your lip and nod in agreement, letting kaeya manhandle you just how you both like. you couldn’t even think. not when you’re getting pounded by your drunk ex who doesn’t know when to quit. his stamina was unmatched in every way, you couldn’t even imagine how debauched and ruined you’d be after the captain was finished with you.

“slow down sir kaeya”

as if on cue, he slowed. not because you asked but more because of that damn pet name only you would call him in bed.

“don’t call me that”

“come on kae i know you like it”

he huffed at your annoying comments, still making himself at home inside of you. and god it was so easy to do so. all of it he remembered so clearly and if it wasn’t until now, he may have just had to keep imagining you in hopes it would be somewhat adequate to the rest thing. even down to how you smelled, he missed it all. everything. maybe it was the alcohol talking, but a sudden twinge of regret and conflicting feelings mixed each other up inside kaeyas mind.

“just shut up and take it”

after the many rounds kaeya went through with you, you both found each other lying next to one another in his bed. you’d long since pass out from how tiring it all was, mentally and physically. although kaeya was exhausted too, he couldn’t help but continue to think about you. kaeya wishes he could just talk with you just so you could see eye to eye. maybe a talk over some breakfast cooked by him in the morning would do <3.

| HEIZOU |

“you couldn’t even go a couple of months without this huh?”

heizou jeered at you in an attempt to rile you up. he was oh so good at that. making you reach a certain breaking point which how badly he got into your head.

“s-shut up already..”

you weakly replied back, hair messy and face slicked with sweat. he smirked at your response, only tugging your cuffed hands which were placed behind your back towards him. your body lifting up in the process of him pulling you so harshly.

“i even tied you up just how you like and you still wanna tell me to shut up?”

a loud array of whines and protests escaped from your lips as his thick cock continued to roughly pound you over his work desk. such a dirty place to do it and even then, why not let you come in to his office and let him relieve some stress. it’s no surprise you both missed doing this within the privacy of heizous office.

a loud slap could be heard soon after he asked you that question. his hand leaving a red mark on the fat of your ass just to get something out of you. we’re you always this stubborn when you were with him?

“just because we’re not together doesn’t mean you don’t get to listen to me slut”

“you never stop talking…”

your head was dizzy and only filled with thoughts of getting fucked stupid your obnoxious ex. it wasn’t like heizou wanted anything more than just this right?

“ah-fuck that feels so much better than i remembered…”

he groaned in a low tone after cumming deep inside your tight pussy. not even bothering to pull out cause he knows you love getting filled with more cum than you could take. he patted at your side, touching you so gently even after all the things he said and rough treatment he gave your pussy.

“let’s get you to bed, we can talk later alright?”

| CYNO |

the quiet room of his office wasn’t so quiet anymore with the constant sound of hips hitting yours. back laid out on his desk making his papers all messy and join the other items once adjourning his desk on the floor. not that cyno cared though. all the mattered in the moment was you, you, you. cyno couldn’t even make himself look up at your face, not with the shame in his heart what would probably be written all over his face if he did look into your sweet, tear ridden eyes.

“she’s not my new girl, i could never replace you even if i tried”

your face contorted into a shocked one while silence filled the space. cyno was taken aback too by his sudden confession but that didn’t stop him from continuing to fuck you, head piece covering his eyes so neither of you could see the shame written on his face.

“you mean that cy?”

he huffed as small, low growls escaped his throat at the feeling of your warmth engulfing all of the thick, sensitive veins his cock missed.

you both were referring to the conversation you both had after you met cyno outside the academia. seeing him earlier with another woman his age, you didn’t know why it drove you insane other than the fact that she was with cyno and not you.

“just focus on this alright?”

he whined out as he rutted even harder into you as to not allow you to respond to him. faster and faster until he knew you were about to cum. he heard what sounded like a giggle come from your lips. we’re you laughing at him?

“sure thing, general”

cyno clenched his fists at the title. he knew what kind of game you were playing, honeying your words up to tease him after he’d had a long day. almost reminded him of what you used to do when you’re together…didn’t matter though.

he remembers exactly how you sound when you do. taking his hand off your waist, he rubs his thumb gently against your clit to help you out. your hands grip onto his lean arms, nails digging into his pretty tan skin.

“fuck cyno—i’m gonna-!”

you cut yourself off as you came with a sudden rush, your body twitching and spasming around his while he pushed himself in to a hilt. you huffed yourself back down and gained some control back over your body after an orgasm you’d hadn’t felt in weeks. and in that moment, cyno looked at your face. how pretty you looked in the afterglow and how much he missed taking in that look and kissing your lips after.

“didn’t want to cum inside cyno?”

you asked, disappointingly. cyno snapped back to the reality before sighing at your question and looking down at where you both were connected. noticing the thick, creamy halo around the bottom of his cock.

“i wouldn’t want myself getting addicted to that feeling again”

#kaeddehara #genshin smut #kaeya smut #heizou smut #cyno smut #kaeyas milkies #heizou shikanoin x reader #kaeya x reader #genshin x reader #genshin men #genshin imagines #rumi : masterlist 🌀#☕️#🗡

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milky-aeons · 3 months

Text

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑

౨ৎ . . . RANPO EDOGAWA was notoriously brilliant at solving riddles like they were mere child's play. there had never been a puzzle he could not solve — until, of course, he met you.

warnings: sexual content, swearing, criminal themes, female reader, mdni, w.c 1.6k

♪ . . . ˗ˏˋ ꒰ glitter in the air — p!nk ꒱ ˎˊ-

: ̗̀➛ The very first time you had met the enigmatic heart of Yokohama's Armed Detective Agency — Ranpo Edogawa, you had not expected him to be short and youthful, dressed in a funny looking detective's uniform and brimming with pride. You also did not expect him to insult your intelligence and tell you that your interview dress was ugly.

: ̗̀➛ Yet there was something about him that always caught your eye every time he stepped into the office. A type of magnetism. You would wonder to yourself what it was that wouldn't permit him to leave your mind — his brashness, that cap, the clink of marble in a glass whenever he was near? You were new at the ADA then, merely an accountant of ledgers, and were not around the main floor that often.

: ̗̀➛ So of course, you were beside yourself with shock when the short man came barging into your quaint office one day completely uninvited. Introducing himself not with an apology, an explaination, but a question that had made your head swim;

"You there!" He pointed at you. "I bet you have never solved Aristotle's Puzzle, have you!" Blinking, you gawped at him. "I—?" "I thought so!" He cut right across you, then lifted his hand to produce a small wooden board that held a grouping of hexagonal blocks, all with different numbers on them. You remembered his delighted little grin — almost like a child, desperate to show off — because it winded you so hard it made it difficult to breathe. "Want this great detective to show you how?"

: ̗̀➛ You had thought it would be the end, after that little encounter. That perhaps it had just been an extremely strange incident, an outlier, never to occur again. And yet the next day you arrived into work, you dropped all of the files tucked underneath your arm when you saw him there — perched on your table, kicking his legs.

"You're late!" He moaned, fixing you with an accusing stare. "I've solved and resolved this silly metal wire puzzle in the time it took you to climb the stairs."

: ̗̀➛ It became a routine for you to open your small office door to see the curious detective already there, fiddling with something or other to entertain himself and his quick mind. Days passed, weeks, and you grew accustomed to his presence. To the way he clicked his tongue, how he scratched the crown of his head that tousled all those ebony strands, how he poked your cheek when he wanted your attention. Sometimes, you would go to the coffee shop upstairs together. Sometimes, you would listen to him. You found that for hours, you could listen to him, you would listen to him until you couldn't, anymore.

: ̗̀➛ The day you realised you were in love with Ranpo Edogawa was also the day he looked at you, really looked at you. You must have been especially ticking him off — averting your eyes, avoiding his presence, offering to send kind-hearted Atsushi in your place when he asked you to come get confectionaries with him. He had cornered you before closing time, he had come right into your personal space with little warning and opened his eyes to look at you.

"You're acting super weird today — what's—?" And he trailed off, going very, very quiet. As if he had just realised something.

: ̗̀➛ You never got his eyes out of your head. They were special rarities — all the shades of green smashed together. You would catch them staring at you from across the office and feel your heart play a quick-step. You would lay in bed at night, tossing and turning, feeling your skin stretching tight and hot as they continued to watch you inside your dreams.

: ̗̀➛ The first time Ranpo kissed you, you could have sworn it was a fabrication, a construct of your deluded imagination. A formal ball held for the Armed Detective Agency and other affiliate associations committed to the peace of the city. He looked divine in his smartly tailored suit and mused hair he let fall boyishly. He was also right where you thought he'd be — helping himself to the refreshment's table like it was nobody's business.

"You look happy." You had mused after joining his side. He slid his emerald eyes to you — open, always open to see you. It made your pulse hammer at the base of your neck. "Your dress reminds me of the one you showed up to your interview in." He teased you. You gawked. "That's cruel! I got the job, didn't I?" You had sampled some of the cream cake he was making quick work of by himself, popping a little morsel into your mouth. It melted on your tongue, soft and sweet. When you turned to face him, Ranpo was already watching you. Too intently, like the air held an unspoken sentence hanging between you both. "What?" You wondered, wide-eyed. His face and his attractive features and his scent and him, all him, had swayed close to you faster than you had the ability to register. Soft and sweet, just like the cream cake, that was how Ranpo Edogawa tasted when he placed his lips on yours. Quick. Chaste. A whisper of a kiss that ended when he licked the cream from the corner of your mouth. You were burning when he pulled away with a grin, murmuring, "'Spose you did."

: ̗̀➛ Being in a relationship with Ranpo was a strange affair, at first. It did nothing to interrupt the balance of the agents in the ADA, of course, but it did teach you a lot about the short detective at the heart of it all. He was not silly, but childish. He had a short temper, he liked his coffee with six spoonful's of sugar. But you also learned that he was kind, he remembered silly little things about yourself you did not even recall telling him. He left notes echoing to his greatness under your files to cheer you up on bad days. He balled up bits of paper and used your trashcan as a net. He would tell you that even though you were no match for his mind, that you were amazing, in your own way.

: ̗̀➛ You and Ranpo took some time to approach the topic of sex. Your relationship was a unique one that blossomed from a bond between two humans, yet there was no denying the need that burned brighter the more your relationship progressed. He'd catch you biting your lip while looking at him. You'd feel the heat between your legs in the lonely hours of night. There would be instances when you were both alone and the air became heavier, thicker, alighting with sparks that did not quite catch flame. Not yet.

: ̗̀➛ Until that night, when you both returned from a date at a drive-by amusement fare that had set up near the river. It was not planned, it was not spoken of until you had arrived to your door and realised you did not want him to leave. It was harmonious — the right moment, as you pulled him inside by his striped tie and he was more than willing to follow.

: ̗̀➛ Ranpo had paid little interest to intimacy with women until he had met you. He had little experience, but was a fantastically quick learner. His observant eyes flashed every time he touched you and your eyebrows scrunched. When he'd reach down and squeeze your breasts and watch you shake.

: ̗̀➛ Ranpo needed you to praise him. He needed you to tell him where you liked to be touched, if you wanted two of his fingers or three, if he was touching you just right and how he could be better. Only for you, he would ask. He'd kiss and taste your skin and liken it to the sweetest of treats. He'd come up to brush your hair from your eyes and gaze at you. Would never break it as he slid inside, slowly, hesitantly. His lips parting to gasp. Your head knocking back at the feel of him, of finally having him and you as one.

: ̗̀➛ It was messy and uncoordinated; the first night you spent together — but you would never forget it, so long as you continued to draw breath. Especially how he pitched forward when he found rhythm, snapping his hips eagerly, frantically. How he whispered strings of incoherencies into the crook of your neck, how you wrapped your legs around his lean back until they shook with the mounting pleasure of it all. And when you climaxed, you did so together, choking on air and groans and a sentence you were not sure you had heard correctly.

: ̗̀➛ You had asked him again moments later. When you were still catching your breath, connected by bare skin, listening to each other's racing heartbeat.

"What did you say? Into my neck, a few minutes ago?"

: ̗̀➛ Ranpo went quiet at your question, before raising to fix you with an incredibly vulnerable look. It made your heart lurch painfully in your chest, especially when he looked so disarmed, his hair sticking up at every angle and his cheeks still flushed red.

: ̗̀➛ Then, he had smiled. The same smile that stole your heart on that very first day in your office, and said;

"A great detective never reveals his secrets."

#bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs fanfiction #bungou stray dogs x reader #ranpo edogawa #ranpo edogawa x reader #ranpo x reader #bsd ranpo #dividers by firefly graphics!#🪄— milky writes #💓 — thump

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gojos-thot-patrol · 8 months

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Milky here with more milky thoughts TM, thinking about what their reactions would be if reader came home one day worn out hopping into bed next to them, then reader shoves their face into the bois tiddies while wrapping their arms around their waist. Honestly, I've been feeling so tired lately, especially with gojo or toji a man tiddie cuddle sounds amazing, christ the smell of their body heat and cologne mmmmmmm. The solid feeling of their body... my insomnia filled brain is screaming rn - Gojo's Milker

MILKY MAN, YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOURE DOIN TO ME

Gojo would immediately pull you into his arms, the smell of fresh linin and rain filling your nose as he softly rubs your back. He'd mumble something like "Long day pretty?" He'd have you knocked out in seconds because his presence is so comforting and familiar and safe. He'd be up though, Satoru has a mind that always works the night shift. He'd count your breathing and mentally trace the lines of your peaceful sleeping face. He'd imagine a future where he marries you, a future where you'd let him take care of you so you don't have to be this tired all the time. It's all he wants. But, he knows rushing into marriage is a red flag or whatever, (even though he knows you're his soul mate.) So he waits for now, dreaming of the day he can finally pop the question.

Toji though...man, Tojis harder. He pulls away at first, never being one for cuddling. That shits way too intimate. But, that fuckers got a soft spot for you, whether he likes it or not. And he melts when he sees those puppy dog eyes you give him. He'd grumble somethings under his breath before pulling you back into his chest. He smells warm and familiar, like cinnamon whiskey. "What the fucks got you so beat?" He'd grumble. He'd let you talk about your day, but he's not listening. He's too focused on how perfectly you fit into his arms. He probably passes out before you do tbh.

#milky thoughts™️#milky anon #🌌🥛🌌#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #toji fushiguro #satoru gojo x reader #toji x reader #toji x reader fluff #gojo x readee fluff #satoru gojo fluff #toji fushiguro fluff

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luciddreamingcrow · 1 year

Text

Sagau but make it Cookie run

A/n: also yes I'm gonna write a part 2 really soon^^

K OK OK OK I just have the perfect idea for a au, so in this au is very similar to the sagau (self aware genshin au) BUT instead of genshin it's cookie run (sacrau) but without the self aware(for now) and we end up with a au where reader is the creator of the cookie run universe (earthbread) and I've got some images along w/ that idea.

Pre-self aware:

Ok so first of image goes like this: imagine being the creator of the cookie run universe and be capable to just look at the cookies lives all day long and just like observe like, what do they do? How do they interact with one another? What are their natural enemies? Oh dear do they need to be protected from those cakehounds near the forest? Don't worry cuz the creator is here! And you just summon a cookie fence so they'll stay safe^^

Imagine if perhaps a kingdom or a land one day they run out of their sugar supply and little cookies are running around and panicking because like how are they gonna survive?????? And then out of nowhere the creator summons a hole ass bag full with sugar that is triple the size of them, and in a empty area in front of them

OK but like IMAGINE you, the creator, making miniature houses for fun and then later giving them to the cookies are in need of one 😭😭😭 like the ones bellow

of course the cookies would be confused abb this weird phenomena but in the end they would be thanking the heavenly witches for their blessing

What if you, the creator, have the capability to transform yourself as a cookie and you just look around in awe at the miniature buildings you created being used and cherished by other cookies aaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Also imagine before you, the creator, would transform into a cookie I don't think you would be able to understand what the cookies are saying, and for example whenever you would observe herb cookie you would just hear "hoohoo, hoohoohoo hoohooHOO" (context: herb cookie is in his weekly therapy session)

Also I want to publicly apologize to my friend cuz I spammed them in the early morning cuz I got milky way cookie and financiers costume, anyways Stan milky way cookie.

#cookie run x reader #cookie run kingdom x you #cookie run kingdom x reader #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom #fanfic #cookie run fanfic #cookie run fandom #pure vanilla x reader #affogato x reader #milky way #milky way cookie #moonlight cookie #dark cacao x reader #espresso cookie x reader #red velvet x reader #almond cookie x reader #clotted cream x reader #black pearl cookie x reader

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brittle-doughie · 1 year

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I wonder how will the cookies react if y/n have a nightmare especially Milky Way Cookie and Moonlight Cookie because they can see dreams

To see and hear you suffering from a nightmare would bring sorrow to her heart, Moonlight Cookie would come to your side and pull you into a hug, trying to calm you down before ensuring that you’re safe. She doesn’t want to upset you further by talking about your nightmare, she had already seen them. She holds you close throughout the night, until you feel comfortable enough to go back to sleep, but in her arms instead. She loves you too much to leave you alone after that horrible nightmare.

She’s dropping the Manual, Aurora can yell at her later, right now Milky Way’s sole focus is on you as she holds your hand as you sleep, letting you know that she’s always with you even in the world of dreams! She’ll ask if you’re alright and stay with you until you feel better, like with Moonlight. Every cookie needs to be comfortable and safe when they sleep and Milky Way wants to make sure of that especially with you.

In a persistent manner like with Moonlight, Stardust is doing everything in his power to ask about your nightmare, how bad was it and if there was anything he can do to be of help with you! He refuses to abandon you like this, during a time of need. Even later on when you inform Stardust that you’re alright now, he’s still not leaving. He’s terrified that he’s not doing enough to help that he chooses to stick by you while you sleep, always there, until your dreams return to a peaceful state. He promises to never leave you in a nightmarish sleep, ever.

#brittle answers #cookie run x reader #cookie run x you #cr x reader #crk x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #cookie run kingdom #cookie run #cr kingdom #female x reader #male x reader #moonlight cookie #milky way cookie #stardust cookie x reader #stardust cookie #moonlight cookie x reader

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honey-minded-hivemind · 2 months

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In the ❄Milky Snow🍼 AU, an ABO AU for ❄Fallen Snow🩸 AU, Creed!Reader would be more distressed, as right next to their trauma and dislike of the platonic yanderes, they'd be dealing with their instincts, as well as pushing them down and trying to ignore them. It's bad enough they were denied most, if not all, of their childhood, it's bad enough that they had to raise themself after they escaped, it's bad enough to have to deal with their deepest traumas and insecurities and nightmares, but add to that their instincts that scream at them to hide and stay as far as they can from the platonic yans, to keep themself at a distance from every living being, yet have urges, the need for attention and care and love, which they haven't felt in years, if ever... It feels like too much, so it's easier to shove it down and keep it forcefully under than to try to feel what they feel, to put up with anymore issues than they already have.

The moment they're with the platonic yans, they're stuck. They can't leave, as they're always dragged back. They won't eat, as they don't trust them not to poison them or hold feeding them over their head. They only feel fear and panic and the need to run when they even smell the others, let alone when they see them. Their instincts cry for attention, for love, to be wanted and protected and cared for... But they won't willingly accept it from these people, who've only ever shown their hate, their anger, their absolute disrespect for Reader and their feelings. Reader doesn't trust them not to go back to how they used to be, and aren't willing to give them a chance in any form.

The platonic yanderes take problem with this.

They want to take care of Reader, to be friends with them, be family, be pack. But their past actions had consequences, and this is one of them. They won't stop trying to prove their regret, that they've changed, that they only want to love Reader now, instead of hurt them. When Reader keeps running, refusing to eat, and hiding for days, that's when they reach a tipping point. Reader doesn't trust them and won't even stay in the same area as them, and they keep hurting themself, refusing to eat or to stay warm inside or to even talk about their feelings. So, the adults decide to finally step in, and try a new method...

They didn't want to start with this, but... maybe dropping Reader into their instincts, getting them into their pup state-of-mind, would help them. At least they would be easier to keep an eye on, and to take care of. They wouldn't mind dropping themselves into their instincts either, if it meant they all could forget the past and their fears for a moment and just be able to relax, to care for Reader and the other cubs and pups,, and to keep themselves from going insane over the fact that they've caused so much damage (they were already kinda insane). Trying to nurse/feed Reader was already rejected before by Reader, but if they were just... put under... drugged enough to calm down... to let themself be taken care of... the adult ferals could for once take care of them and not be fought over it. They could actually be close to their cub, all of their cubs, and start to rebuild trust, to stitch together what bonds were left, and try and start over...

Reader, if they ended up sedated, would be annoyed as long as they could (until a heavier drug is used, or are dropped into their instincts). They aren't up for "cuddling" or "nursing" or "talking about their emotions". Are these people crazy? They HATE them, don't they? Why keep up the caring act? Except the platonic yans don't stop, and just keep going along with trying to "care" for them... Reader tries to fight it, tries to get away, to stay in charge of their urges...

But the platonic yanderes have plenty of sedatives and drugs to keep them calm and relaxed and soothed, and have enough blankets and hugs and milk to keep their cub/sibling/friend/ward happy. And the moment they actually manage to get Reader under, to have them finally give in... they're still scared, upset, but they're so much more receptive to their care, and they can finally shower them in all the affection and love they can...

(You can bet that Reader in this state is kept in the special room the ferals have that I've previously mentioned, the giant cat room-like room, and you can bet they're being snuggled between their "siblings" and "dads")(Remember, Wolverine and Sabretooth are brothers and platonic, no inc*st, they just decided to both adopt and parent Reader and Laura and Kyle)(Please don't be weird about it)(They also technically adopted the other X-Men and Brotherhood teens, too)(They just have their own special rooms, that aren't the feral room)(They all cuddle and snuggle and get tangled up in a large huggy mess of arms and legs and blankets and pillows and plushies)(Wolverine and Sabretooth are Omegas here, and they want to nurse all of their cubs and pups)(Whether the cubs, pups, and Reader, want it/accept it or not)

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christinarowie332 · 5 months

Text

these people are naughty….

matt and chris sturniolo discover tumblr …..

chris sturn x reader oneshot imagine

warnings : sexual conversations

if y’all see your fic names do a little dance

this was written out of pure boredom

———-

“im home!!!” my voice rang through the triplets living room as i walk into their house , closing the door behind me and walking towards the kitchen. it’s there i see matt’s face , and the back of my boyfriend’s head .

“hi y/n” matt says with a smile that reaches his eyes , squinting them slightly while laughing.

“hello matthew, what’s so funny?” i ask walking over to chris who still hasn’t even acknowledged my presence, but that changes as i reach his shoulders and place my hands on them , his head falls back and looks at me upside down . i lean forward and kiss his forehead, pulling away seeing a big goofy smile from him and him greeting me finally “hi mama” before he looks forward again .

“me and chris were just scrolling through some anonymous confessions on that tiktok account” matt reply’s before bringing his bottle of water to his lips and taking a sip , scrolling down on his phone screen making another confession show up causing him to laugh again.

i put my hands through chris’s hair from behind him , his eyes shutting and leaning his head back at my touch . “where’s nick?” i ask , noticing the absence, looking round thinking i maybe missed him on the sofa .

“he’s upstairs editing i think , should be down in a sec , how was work?” chris says while looking up at me through his eyebrows, his head fully tipped back making his adam apple stick out from his neck . “work was good , i mean i didn’t stop all day and i’m tired as fuck but like , i like the chaos” i reply while walking towards the fridge backwards , watching chris watch me as i move . “you have to like the chaos to be with that kid” matt says , his eyes still glued to his phone as he scrolls through the account . “these people are actually insane bro have u seen this account?” he continues, turning around in his chair to show me the confession . i squint my eyes slightly and grab his hand to steady the phone infront of me , the confession read ‘this might be wierd but do you think chris has a mommy kink …. i mean kid SCREAMS it but idk i might just be reading too much into it’

i laugh at the words and read them out loud to chris , making his mouth drop in shock as he attempts to grab the phone from matt . “the only crazy part about that is that it’s true” i say making chris get up from his seat and try to run towards me , i close the fridge quickly and attempt to run away from him. i fail . i erupt into giggles as his arms wrap around me , lifting my slightly. his head makes his way into the crook of my neck , rubbing his slight stubble into the skin making me laugh and squirm away from him . “i do not have a fucking mommy kink!” he exclaims as he puts me down , flicking his hair out of his face with his hands and walking towards the fridge .

“hmmm i don’t knowwww , u did call her mama when she got here” matt says , his lips falling into a line as he looks around with his eyes dramatically.

“that’s not a fucking ‘kink’ you weirdo , it’s just a name , it’s just a joke …..” he replies to his brother , sitting back in his seat at the table , a light blush coating his cheeks .

“whatever dude , i don’t need to know either way . the comments are even crazier , half of them are calling the anon a weirdo and the other half are all saying it’s me with the mommy kink ….. WAIT WHAT DID I DO?!?” matt says before frantically scrolling through the comments now . “what the fuck is ‘tumblr’ ?”

my head snaps towards matt . knowing full well what that app is from my highschool days . “hold on …there’s a sturniolo side to tumblr ?”. i ask walking towards him , pulling out the chair next too matt and moving it towards him .

“i guess , wait do u know ‘tumblr?’” he asks turning towards me , i keep my eyes on his phone and scroll down on the screen watching a few people talk about different things but most was all talking about ‘fics’ .

“yeah dude it’s like wattpad but on crack . like fully sex fan fictions bro . that’s crazy” i say , dragging the ‘crazy’ and laughing under my breath . “wait lemme download the app real quick” matt says while grabbing the pepsi from my hand to give to chris .

i take a seat next to chris , pushing it closer to lie shoulder to shoulder with him , watching his phone screen as he scrolls through tiktok laughing at videos together . after a while matt speaks up telling us he had made an account on tumblr .

“bro the top posts for sturniolos are literally just sex story’s , they got that one right .” he spins his phone around and shows us the top story being about his being good at giving head , me and chris roll our eyes before chris grabs his phone to scroll through it with me . his thumb moves down the phone screen . us both reading the titles of each fic , “too damn long ? oh you haven’t jerked off apparently baby . sit on my fucking face , first time , no nut november, eyes up , taking of the virginity… WOW CHRIS YOUR A FREAK IN THIS ONE-” i list out the names before chris puts a hand over my mouth causing me to giggle into his soft skin .

“wait till they find out i’ve never even held hands with a woman” matt says , grabbing his phone from his brothers hand whilst he is distracted looking at me . making both me and chris turn the look at him stupidly , the very obvious fact that he indeed in a man whore . “bro you literally just called yourself a munch” chris says to matt , moving his hand from my mouth and opening his own phone to text nick about the new app they discovered .

“you guys like have to react to these in a video , this is like insane” i say to chris through laughs.

“im pretty sure the only app we could upload that video to would be only fans , these people are naughty”

—————

i laugh and giggle funny ha ha .

taglist :

@mangosrar @soursturniolo @biimpanicking @querenciasturniolo @ermdontmindthisaccount @recklesssturniolo @tackycrown @udonotknowme @urmyslxt @iheart2021chris @its-jennarose @oversturn @paper-crab @strniohoeee @slut4chr1s @daddyslilchickenfingers @freshlovehacker @flowerxbunnie @kenzieiskoolaid @kvtie444 @loveesiren @lustfulslxt @lunarsturniolo @lovingsturniolo @chrisenthusiast @bluesturniolo333 @nickenthusiast @mattslolita @mattsbratt @chrisolivia4l @fredswh0re @rac00ns-are-c00l4

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #milkietalks #chris sturniolo x reader #milkie is down bad #nicolas sturniolo

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milknhonies · 3 months

Text

Sir Sherlock Holmes & The Indian Princess

शर्लक बाबू और भारतीय राजकुमारी

Chapter 1 || Masterlist || Chapter 2

Chapter Summary: In England, Sherlock Holmes receives an alarm letter from his dear friend Doctor John Watson. In Delhi, You don't mind being a teacher, but with new building plans, you reflect on your circumstances and opportunities.

Pairing: Sherlock Homes x Desi!reader

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Slow burn, generational trauma, colonisation, implied murder, death of a parent, classism & caste.

Word Count: 6k

Author Notes:

★ Everything written in bold is being said in Hindustani

★The Reader character goes by the last name Newalkar and is the daughter of Damodar Rao Newalkar → the adopted son of Rani Laxmibai. I must advise this story is pure fiction but based in the occupation of the British Raj that invaded and Colonised India.

★I am a White European/Australian woman, I apologise for any cultural or historical inaccuracies. I am receiving help from online sources and desi Tumblr mutual @livesinfantasyland and I heavily encourage other Indian/South Asian/Desi readers to share their thoughts, constructive criticism and help as I write this story.

Inspiring Song: "Paint it Black" by Ciara

11:35pm Thursday 26th June 1890, 221B Baker Street, Marylebone, Westminster, London, England.

This story begins and ends with the sound of rain.

Tink!

The roof had begun a leak. And when this leak came to play it had a habit of landing directly on the head of a disgruntled and lonely fellow. The greatest detective in London who could not find a friend. Granted I must inform you, Mr Sherlock Holmes did in fact have some friends, but by misfortunes, none were presently in the country.

Tink!

He angrily sighed. Another drop of rain hit his head.

He launched from his arm chair and grumbling moved an empty teapot to sit on the cushion he previously sat. The drops thus made a small tinkling as they landed inside the empty pot.

Plonk!

He rubbed his eyes and checked the time on the mantle piece clock. He had lost weeks of his life. Hours squeezed down to into unknown days or months, he could not tell. It did not help how he consistently drew the curtains closed to design total darkness other than the fireplace and his candles to light up his home.

A light shiver ran up his spine. The weather was dangerously cold today. His fingertips upon inspection grew from pale white to a dark pink.

Plonk!

He wandered if perhaps it was time to have a holiday in sunny Spain.

A knock on his door broke his imagined vacation like a hammer to glass.

His pesky landlady Mrs Hudson intruded on his stuffy dust filled space. She grumbled nonsense about the filth of her apartment she’s rented out to the famous Detective before handing him a thick envelope.

Plonk!

And the moment he could see and recognised the handwriting he snatched the Letter from her wrinkly fingers and banished her with a bellowing shout. The woman fluttered out and muttered her further disgusts of his treatment.

Plonk!

But Sherlock did not care for her opinion or rather anyone’s for that matter, Sherlock only cares about the stamp he tore opened the parchment he eagerly unfolded.

John Watson. Doctor, soldier and dear friend. He was Sherlock’s greatest companion to note. He had never felt such brotherly love until he met the very man seeking a roommate here in baker street.

Doctor and detective used to comb London for clues to solve crimes and very noticeably took an interest at the sports of pleasure. The luxurious brothels of London welcomed him and his friend with open arms and spread legs. Doctor Watson was the easy victim of sex while Sherlock was one to enjoy his opium pipe and watch his friend succumb to the mouths of half-pound harlots.

And among these adventures of interesting women did the doctor find himself in a savage tussle with another jealous male patron...

Sherlock recalled the evening with mirth. His dear friend, brother in arms had been pummelled to a pulp and drunk as a daisy. So when Sherlock escorted him to a hospital, the imbecile had declared that he was doctor of the ward and did not need any stitches. It is a grand thing perhaps Doctor Watson could not fathom the memory of yelling too proudly that his medicine could be only found in the elixir of a woman’s warm cunny.

His nurse, a dirty bird at heart had giggled at this...that nurses name was Mary Mortenson. And she became the very enamoured Mrs Mary Watson.

Sherlock was not fond of his friend becoming so besotted with his bride. He tolerated the woman’s presences at best. Unspokenly, the detective saw competition to gain the doctors attention and it was becoming far too obvious that Mrs Watson would win. Every. Single. Time.

After a month of young love the married pair had decided their honey-moon should be experienced back in John’s birth land...Delhi, a city in India. Mary was to meet the senior Mr and Mrs Watson. Coincidently, the English rose was not averse to the foreign lands…she so happened to have been born in Agra. Happy and married, they boarded and sailed across the sea.

Sherlock had high hopes their ship would run scarce of supplies so they might return quickly. He missed his dear friend and even his annoying wife.

The letter in between if thumbs and fingers were the first words from them he had gotten in nearly three months. The letter read as followed...

“Dear Sherlock,

Mary and I have come to my home I grew up in as a boy. I was blessed with my parents merry welcome. However, unfortunate circumstances have designed two coffins. For merely a week into our visit my beloved parents have passed. I have yet to decide whether to bury them in the English tradition or burn them in the Hindi ritual. My predicted return back to Baker Street may appear futile and non-existent. Please. Come visit us as soon as it is convenient.

13, 25, 27, 16, 1, 18, 5, 14, 20, 19, 27, 8, 23, 5, 27, 2, 5, 5, 14, 27, 13, 21, 18, 4, 5, 18, 5, 4.

Your sincere faithful friend, Doctor John H. Watson.”

Plonk!

Sherlock’s eyes raced over the page, and cupped his mouth staring at the plethora of numbers. They were not any numbers. John was a simple man, he wasn’t the smartest being but Sherlock appreciated his humble attitudes, he liked the doctor admitting he wasn’t a world genius, just a man who knew his medicines.

So when an enigmatic set of numbers was written at random Sherlock thought of the most simplistic cypher.

For every number was a letter. 1 being A and 26 being Z, leaving 27 to be a space between a word.

His brows lifted. The message was clear and alarming.

Plonk!

“My Parents Have Been Murdered.”

He determined his dear doctor had written this cryptic message under the desire of secrecy. His eyes lit up. It meant John needed Sherlock’s help. A case. Something was amiss. John did not know the killers name. If he did, he would’ve written it or not bothered to write asking Sherlock to visit at all.

He couldn’t have run faster to his rooms to start backing as soon as possible.

Plonk!

Sherlock Holmes had know idea what he was going to find in a land he had only heard stories from Watson’s childhood. He was eager to see his friend, to help him and to finally have an adventure.

01:35pm Friday 11th July 1890, Anglo Arabic Secondary School, Desh Bandhu Gupta Rd, Ajmeri Gate, Delhi.

You dragged the piece of white chalk across a black board and sketched a simple phrase in the English language. You smiled to the young faces that filled the room, sitting in long benches and desks. Their eyes wide and curious, eager to learn.

You waved your hands, “Now, clean your chalk slates students, you are going to learn how to spell good afternoon in English.”

They wipe them down with their small damp clothes and tucked them away in the groove at the top of their slanted desk. You waited patiently until they all sat with their hands resting flat on the wooden desks, mouths shut, eyes seeking knowledge.

You underlined each letter of the first word, “Gee, ouw, ouw, dee, this spells ‘Good’ and now ‘Afternoon’ is Aya, eff, tee, Ee, Ara, eynnn, ouw, ouw, eynn.”

The young boys sounded it out with you. Their sweet pubescent voices unionised. You smiled. They were so advanced at such a young age, most of the boys had come from average and wealthy families that could afford them to come to such a fine school. Many were Muslim, others Hindu, it was a good sign of peace. The youth coming together despite their differences. And on odd days you would teach the white children, boys and girls of British and French families who wanted their children to learn Hindi, Arabic and Urdu.

You didn’t mind teaching white children, some of the boys could be very disrespectful but you gathered it was behaviour picked up from their arrogant fathers. It wasn’t the young boys who had pillaged these lands, it was their fathers and grandfathers.

“The gee,” you circled the G, “Remember in English is also pronounced like Guh and,” you tapped the double o’s, “Ouw ouw in english together when two is said ‘oooowa’. Followed by dee being said as Dah. So, let’s say it together?”

You dragged a white line under the word and sounded it out with your students.

“Guh-oooow-dah.”

You smiled.

You repeated, “Good.”

“Now let’s look at the word ‘afternoon’,” you announced.

You cleaned the board and looked back at your students. One of the little boys who sat in the front was rubbing his eyes. You smiled softly. He was only six years old. His older brother, a young man now would most likely be the one to collect his brother from school and carry him sleeping back home. You looked at the bell tower just outside the window. It was nearly time for your students to go home and you to return back to your lodgings.

“Aye and eff is said as AAaff, then tee is a quick Tuh! And what is Ee and Arrra sound together children?”

“Errr,” they all purred.

You sounded out half of the word with them, “Aafftuherrr.”

You rubbed your chalk dust covered fingers together and further explained as you pointed to each important letter, “eynnn makes a Na, sound. And we just practiced double ouw, so sound it out.”

Like a symphony of speech, you all said together, “Guh-oooow-dah Aafftuherrr, Na-ooow-na. Good Afternoon.”

The deep bowing clang of the bells outside rang through the yard and open window shutters. The children looked eager to leave. Their hands were readily holding their slates, ready to put them inside the empty wooden box in the corner of the classroom where they kept all their slates and dusters and the bucket for where they kept their chalk.

“Good afternoon students,” You bided.

“Good afternoon Teacher Madam,” They called back.

“You may go back home now. Practise your English alphabet song.”

The boys were fast as rabbits, leaping from their desks and fleeing the classroom out the hall and down the stairs. But some at least saluted you as they left. It was a habit they’d picked up from the white boys who saluted their male teachers. You smiled to yourself as you waved them out. Each left with beaming smiles and playful chatter among themselves.

As you went about sweeping the floor after wiping the chalk from the board, you wondered if you should go to the temple and pray for your students successful education or if you should consider washing your clothing today. It had been very dry today, any moment and you knew the wet season and humid rain would arrive to flood the streets clean of dust and fill the forests with life of green goodness.

As you put away the English education books on the small shelves by the door, a familiar face came rushing in, flushed and excited

If it wasn’t her jingling anklet and bangle that announced her To your classroom, it was her shrill cry of your name that did.

“Y/N! Quick!” Miss Anjuli Paraiyars exclaimed, “You need to come with me.”

Her dark ink hair was peaking out from her sun patterned veil. The wispy curls stuck to her sweaty forehead and framed her dazzling walnut eyes. They were flooded with mischief that matched her biting lip. Her brows wriggled lightly.

Placing the last book onto the shelf you turned to acknowledge your dear friend.

“Anjuli,” you happily sighed, “Whatever is the matter?”

She waved her hands about, hoping to quicken you along and out the door, “It is the Watson son, Doctor Watson, he wants to speak with you with important news.”

Your eyes widened. ‘What on earth does that poor soul wish to say to me? After the death of the good Mr and Mrs Watson, I would assume he was still in mourning, why would he call upon me?’

Following your friend outside into the scorching sun, you lifted your saree over your head. She had her family Ox and cart waiting outside the school gates.

“What important news Anjuli?” You said a little standoffishly.

“He’s offering you a job,” She said giddily. She climbed up into the cart and leant down offering her hand to you. Once in the cart side by side she sighed, “That’s all he would tell me,” She grabbed the reigns and cane and tapped the Ox to start moving out onto the dirt road, “But we all know how very generous he can be like his dear parents.”

Anjuli was right. The late Victoria and Hamish Watson’s were angelic to the local community. Victoria had been the very soul to teach your late mother English and she was the one to encourage you to attain education enough to become one of the very few first female Indian teachers. She was a well known philanthropist, often aiding the sick and homeless and funding the Indian hospitals. Hamish was a local accountant, financial advisor and lawyer. He was known to be good to the children particularly. He would often hand out sweets as he walked down the street with his briefcase bag. He often aided the locals find new homes when the British planned to evict them and replace white families in their place. The English couple had lived in the country for many decades, long before you were even born. They spoke fluently enough and mimicked the culture so well that you could’ve believed they were born here themselves.

You sat back and nodded, “May their souls attain moksha.”

02:45pm Friday 11th July 1890, Willingdon Crescent, Central Ridge Forest, Delhi, India.

The sun baked down on the streets of Dehli. The Ox cart rolled along, it’s tail flicking the flies circling it’s flank every so often.

You pinches your saree scarf and covered your face before a bug could fly into your mouth.

Anjuli had to hold the reigns and cane, she leant closer to you and giggled as she nodded to the khaki covered soldiers. Walking by in many small groups.

Anjuli had a terrible habit, she fell in love too easily. For some ungodly reason Anjuli admired the foreigners that had come so long ago and invaded your beautiful country. Maybe she liked how different they looked. The flaxen hair and ice blue gazes in the faces of pale freaks were so opposite to the raven manes and hairy russet warmth of Indian men. It was erotic for her. You just didn't understand how she could so easily find infatuation with the people you considered an enemy, and so should she.

“Oh look at them,” she giggled girlishly.

You rolled your eyes, “I’m looking.” There was a timid strain in your voice. You had no real interest to entertain Anjuli’s fascination.

When Anjuli noticed how you in fact we’re not looking but rather looking ahead on the road path she playfully smacked your arm.

“Look!” She sucked her teeth and teasingly scolded, “Do you not know delight at the sight of men?” She reached forward and abruptly touched the front of your blouse, squeezing around for the softness of your breasts, “Are you sure you’re a full grown woman?” she smiled wickedly and prodded her finger in between your legs covered by your top petticoat.

You squeaked loudly and batted her hand. She howled with laughter and kept giggling even as you scowled at her beneath your veil.

You turned your head away from her and scoffed, “I am not as easily swayed by British soldiers. They look so sickly as pale as they are,” your nose wrinkled, “How could I righteously take a husband in front of beloved Lakshmi and her Vishnu when they look like they tempt Yama too take them at any moment?”

Your friend rolled her eyes, “Oh nonsense,” she tapped your hand and waved her fingers into a crowd of soldiers, “See there that one, his hair the colour of wheat, he is a handsome man. He would make a fine husband.”

And as the cart rolled passed, you couldn’t help gag at the smell of the same man Anjuli proclaimed would make a fine husband.

‘A fine swine perhaps. Many sow in heat could come trotting to him from miles with such a putrid scent.’

Your head wobbled and your flat palm waved at her, “A husbands good qualities are not to stand on his appearance alone. One day he will grow old, fat, bald and ugly.”

A long dragging sigh came out from the woman beside you. She managed to move both reigns into one hand and playfully tugged your saree away from your face

“You’re no fun, come on,” she jerked her chin out to the same street as the ox was about to pass another group, “Tell me you don’t find any of them a little attractive?”

You stared at the oncoming group and now sucked your teeth. You crudely stated, “They’d be far more attractive if they left. Went back to their lands, leave our villages and the people of Bharat in peace.”

Anjuli stared blankly at you. Before she could pinch and prod you again you relented and noticed one of the men in the crowd so different from the others.

He was tall, his hair a dark chestnut that matched the shade of his suit. His face was bare and clean in comparison to the soldiers who all adorned moustaches and muttonchop beards on their faces. He was carrying a rather large brief case and walking stick.

“Fine...that one,” you nodded, “In the brown English clothes.”

“The one wearing a suit?” Anjuli snickered, “He’s not a soldier though?”

You giggled,“And it is for such a reason I find he is most handsome among them.”

You both gazed at him as the ox fully passed by. Anjuli smiled at you.

“He is rather tall. Strong. What do you think he does?” She asked, “Maybe he is a farmer, or a bricklayer?”

You shook your head. ‘No. He couldn’t be.’

“He dresses too finely. It is not their Christian Sunday Sabbath today. He probably is a rich businessman, with a wife and children.”

You looked back to the path as the dusty road became thicker in trees and travel further away from the street. You thought about that strangers wife, what she might look like, probably some English rose with a house full of servants at her command, surrounded by maids and wet nurses for her children. She would live in a grand house and hold soiree’s, welcoming guests from all around to celebrate life. She would have a massive library and a place of worship. It was the life you should’ve had, the life you were owed and denied merely by the changing events of history and the extinguish of your father’s birthright.

Your soft smile faded; you felt a twinge of repulsion mixed with a hint of anger. You’d think after all these years you would’ve chosen to forget this, ignore this, let go and accept your circumstances in this life.... You didn’t live with your father anymore who would remind you practically daily why not to trust the English or any white man, as if you didn’t witness their subjecting abuse and consistent disrespect.

Your eyes fluttered shut, you reached to your side and touched Anjuli’s wrist. She was your truest friend despite her differences and low status. Anjuli came from a Shudra family, and you? You were the daughter, the descendant of Brahims and Kshatriyas...now lowered to the Shudra caste class…You never knew the lavish life of the Jhansi palace, nor tasted the rich foods served on golden plates and surrounded by pretty creatures of the palace menagerie. You would never know the joys of running through the gardens with other children in the royal family.

Everyone was gone, everything was gone. All that was left was your father who scarcely remembered that life but shared all he remembered so his memories would live on through you and bring you hope that one day it would be yours. It was a cruel false hope…

Eighteen years ago, you had been born inside of a nice house in Indore to the daughter of a prestige painter Vasudeoraobhau Bhatavdekar. As far as you knew, your father loved your mother very much for the incredibly brief time that they were married. A rare jewel in beauty is how he described her often. A marriage of love and choice. Your father said she was softly spoken and obedient, but it was her unconditional love for him and his dreams that held his heart in appreciation.

It was by unfortunate command that she would fall ill to childbed fevers after you were born. After you…a girl...not a son. You were nothing in the eyes of the British raj and had no chance of being installed as an heir for any restoration…you were the last hope and failed before your first breath. And that was something you’d never forget.

For a small time, you were raised in that home and then it was decided by your father that you would learn English. His tutors were not available, so he cut your hair short and shipped you off to Delhi with your young uncle Save to the Anglo Arabic Secondary School…It did not take the teachers and headmaster long to discover you were a girl. Before you were to receive the beating of a lifetime it was Mr Hamish Watson who so happened to be accounting the school costs to save you. He took you to his wife who taught you English and then set you to live with his maid servants, Anjuli’s mother.

Your friend spoke after some time of silence, “Oh, I’m meant to tell you- My cousin Vijay sent word this morning, he’s seeking a wife. My mother wants me to ask if you’d like to meet him, a prospective match.”

Your lips curled into a sneer, “Isn’t he the one that use to tie our braids together in a knot during Diwali and chase us around the street making animal noises?”

You recalled a young teenage boy about five years your senior with a tooth gap and ruffled hair. He was so annoying, calling you names and bullying you by calling you fat and ugly. He was spoilt and rude. He mocked you when you told him you were a princess. He said you were a princess of pimple pox and nothing more. Oh how you remembered the way your blood boiled.

“We were children, he was playing, only a boy,” she smiled, “He’s a man now, studying to be a barrister in Bombay but he will be visiting in a few weeks to help us move.”

Ah yes, the dilemma you needed to find a solution too soon. It was a month ago that a letter had been nailed to the house door, it was an eviction commandment made by the British military and government. The Paraiyars family and you had to leave the home in Raisina hill, why? Because the British do what they like…building concrete monstrosities over beautiful land and demolishing the history of your people like it was worthless dust. Rumours spread about a grand governors palace was to be built there, but they couldn’t burn the village to ash with people living inside...well....at least not on their "morally good Christian conscious."

“Vijay I believe owns a cottage near the seaside. You could be his bride and live with him instead of moving back to Indore to your father.”

Moving back was not possible...not after his most recent letter.

“Father has…felt it improper for me to move back to Indore. He believes that my existence would cause me more harm than good under his jailers’ eyes…His pension he shares I give mostly to your mother for board. I have saved my wages, I am considering…moving to a boarding workhouse in Jhansi or Agra, but tell your mother I would like to greet Vijay when he arrives…”

You smirked looking down at your fingernails, “Lakshmi forbid I run out of money and need to resort to the ‘charity’ of Christians or to prostitution.”

Anjuli made a face, shaking her head and brushed her shoulder into yours, “You wrinkle your nose at every man, white, black or bronze,” she smiled cheekily, “I doubt you’d make a good prostitute.”

“Anjuli!” You shrieked.

Both you and her erupted into a large happy shrill of giggles enough to gain head turns from passing public. You and her playfully poked your elbows into each other. Anjuli was right, there was no chance that you could make a suitable prostitute…you hadn’t had sex and didn’t know how to please a man, most men you barely liked. They could be selfish. Anjuli on the other hand, she was a frisky thing. She had kissed a hundred men and given her ‘precious flower’ to a boy back when she was thirteen. She had no shame. Anjuli had shared her sordid tales of lust to you many times. You knew her boyfriends that snuck her out at night and returned her by morning. You promised never to tell her mother or father who surely would’ve disowned her if they knew how promiscuous she was. It was best if they believed she made money with her parents in the markets selling dyed clothes and wooden jewellery boxes.

03:04pm Friday 11th July 1890, 5 Bistdari Road, Central Ridge Forest, Delhi, India.

Arriving to the Watson Bungalow was simple enough, the ox cart rolled and bumped over the rock and sandy grooves of the path. Anjuli pulled the reigns of her beast and helped you both down. She tied her ox to the outside gate posts, the precious creature lowered its head and munched on dry grass that still was hinted in green. The ox would be glad as soon the wet season would hit and all the food delight lush and green would return.

You and Anjuli stepped inside and removed your sandals, Anjuli then led you through the house. It had been some time since you had been here. Anjuli’s mother was dismissed as Mrs Victoria Watson’s maid when the new Watson bride had arrived.

Doctor Watson, their son was a short ferrety man. His face was covered in a long mutton mustache like a snake of hair slithering along his face. He was a grown man from the teenager you had met many years ago. His parents had sent him to Europe to school, as far as you were aware he had join the army and fought in some notorious war battles like The of Battle of Abu Klea.

As you entered the bureau office, you found him hunched over some paperwork, his brows scrunched. His eyes lifted up and brightened his face on seeing you both.

“Oh Miss Paraiyars, Anjuli dear,” he said clapping his hands and opening a drawer in his desk, “Thank you so much dear for bringing darling Miss Newalkar here. Here,” he handed Anjuli a small bag and slipped four rupees into her hand, “and take these sweets back to your Mataji, Mrs Paraiyars.”

Anjuli put her hands together and smiled, wobbling her head before leaving you alone to return outside back to her ox cart.

You had your hands pressed together peacefully while the doctor hobbled over to you from around the desk. He was smiling brightly and nodded his head to you, offering you a chair in front of the desk.

“Y/N thankyou for coming on such short notice. I requested your presence in person to offer you a job position.”

Your smile fell, you sheepishly explained to the man, “I am currently employed at the Anglo school Doctor, Babu.”

The doctor nodded, “Yes…Anjuli tells me you are still teaching the children English and Hindi?”

“Yes Doctor Babu,” you confirmed.

“How much are you paid per month?” he asked quickly, touching his lips lightly in thought.

“Twenty five rupees,” you said softly, you didn’t dare try to sound prideful.

The doctor smiled and pulled out a piece paper contract, he then stated, “I will pay you a hundred per month.”

Your eyes widened, and then narrowed. It was too spectacular to be true, it sounded Impossible. Your fathers pension was only a hundred and fifty rupees a year, for the doctor to give you a hundred per month was unfathomable wealth. What on earth was he wanting from you!?

“What is the position,” you swallowed breathlessly, “Doctor Babu?”

“Housekeeper and…a carer,” he sighed, “I need you to live here, and watch over one of my friends. He is from England and I am afraid he might not understand the customs here.”

He leant against the desk cocking his head and looking down at his feet awkwardly. “Please,” he begged, “he is different to other men. He is particular and perhaps rather spoilt. I need you to make sure he doesn’t get lost, harmed or too upset. It is pressing that I should return to my wife in Agra. I would have hired Mrs Paraiyars, in fact I did offer this role to her, but I have been informed she will be moving and her English is not as it once was…and my English friend is rather…particular and impatient with broken speech...”

He wrote a signature across the bottom of the document and held it out for you to read. It was real…your mouth watered. You could save more than your regular wage and easily move back to Indore without burdening your father or mother’s family.

“If you accept my offer, you may live here as a free lodging, you recall where the servant quarters are I am sure? You will also receive a handsome budget for food. And-” he paused looking up and pocketing the cheque, he gasped, “Sherlock! Dear god man! Did you walk here from the train station?!”

You turned around in the chair and took in the sight of a familiar looking soul.

He was the gentleman from the road. The supposed businessman with his briefcase. He was taller standing here with you then when you sat above in the ox cart. He was standing in the doorway to the office. He stepped inside and lowered his walking stick and briefcase.

“My friend,” the handsome stranger gleefully called, “My dear John Watson, I came the moment I read your message. One of the khaki coated lads pointed me here.”

Up close now you could observe his features on a better judgement. Sherlock Holmes was well known in the British gazette for his distinct physical appearance. With his broad angular frame, sharp hard features, and mighty frame, he exuded a striking and intimidating aura that commanded respect. He reminded you of warriors you imagined before bed in story's of battles your father described at Jhansi Fort.

His face was marked by a strong, sharp pointed nose and intense, deep-set sapphire eyes. His hair was kept combed and short below his ears short and slicked back, revealing his angular eyebrows, and his pink lips that were tightly pursed. He wore a grand brown suit coat with a crisp white shirt, and woolen sweater vest beneath it. And at the base of his throat was a dark burgundy tie. Something about the time reminded you of blood. A cut throat. You felt cold.

His eyes smoothly shifted to you and your presence, his lips parted softly, he glanced back at John, “A patient of yours Doctor?”

The moustached man bristled and shook his head, he stuttered and leant his hand out to you. you carefully chose to take it and rise from the chair as he introduced you.

“Oh- I- Sherlock…um, Sherlock Holmes, I would like you to meet Miss Y/N Newalkar.”

“Miss Newalkar,” the doctor waved his hand over the figure of the giant stock of a man, “This is the very gentleman I was informing you about. This is my friend Detective Sherlock Holmes.”

You pressed your hands together and nodded in greeting. One of Sherlock’s brows raised and his lips hardened in a straight line.

Doctor Watson explained back to the detective, “I was in the middle of discussing whether this dear lady would like to accept a role of housekeeping during your stay here.”

“Whatever for?” Sherlock snickered, “Is your lady wife not up to par with her duties?” he shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked on his leather shoes while his eyes scanned all the way down to your bare feet. It was a crude look of judgement. The westerner seemed to forget not everyone shared the same styles and habits here. You tried not to roll your eyes at him as he scanned your arms and the parts of your belly that the saree did not cover. Those dark blue orbs crawled up and settled over your faux sweetened smiling face.

“Some…plans have come up unexpectedly. Mary is back in Agra, staying safe with her family,” John stated, his fingers rubbed together, “I need to be with her. And the hospitals are in desire of my services as a surgeon. I ask that you will look around, see if you can find anything here…” he leant in closer and whispered to the man, “I will visit every couple of days, to check up on you and see if there is truth to be founded in my suspicions.”

'Suspicions?'

“John…” the detective pat his friends shoulder, “I am happy to see you. I promise I will do my very best.”

“Thankyou,” said the doctor.

Sherlock jerked his chin to your direction, “How much does the dear girl here know?”

“Well, I…not much,” the doctor blushed and looked back to you, “Miss Newalkar, your thoughts on the job position role?”

You swallowed and nodded slowly, “I accept the conditions, thankyou for your most gracious offering, Doctor Babu.”

The doctor smiled and carefully touched your back, leading you to the exist of his office as he happily stated.

“Splendid! Please, this is the contract. Sign it and return with your belongings later on a few hours while I converse with my friend and guest.”

You looked back at the mysterious Sherlock Holmes and back to the contract. You wobbled your head in goodbye and went on your way. The way you could feel his eyes over your body walking away made you shiver. He was a intimidateding looking man. You left the home and slipped your sandals on.

You thought about how you would now be the housekeeper of a prestigious British family in the community. A wave of relief to your stability washed over you. You didn’t need to crawl to your father and your mother’s family. You started smiling ear to ear. All you needed to do was take care of a house and baby-sit an Englishman who was vulnerable to these new lands.

“Did you see him go in?” Anjuli smirked from the ox cart, waving you over, “The British man you fancied?”

You jerked your chin up proudly exclaiming, “I met him.”

Your friend gasped with a wide smile, “What is he like?”

“I don’t really know,” you shrugged before waving the contract in front of your friends face, “but I am going to be his housekeeper, I need to inform the school of my resignation.”

Anjuli looked at the contract, she couldn't read english but made a light sad sound and sucked her teeth before sighing, “Oh, those children will miss you dearly.”

And that you could both agree. You grabbed the ox reigns and tapped its flank with the cane rolling back to the school again quickly to collect your last wage.

Helplines:

If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers.

Australian Helpline Services

UK Helpline Services

American Helpline Services

India Helpline Services.

112 notes · View notes

gepardling · 11 months

Note

I saw your blog and I love your writings sm🫶 Glad to see a fellow Gepard simp (JGKFKRJSHA HE'S SO HOT)

Going to my request, if you are fine with smut requests, is it okay for me to request husband!Gepard and spouse!gn!reader, featuring breeding kink and manhandling? It's up to you how you want to write how the story goes, surprise me 👀

Anyways, make sure to take care of yourself as well, stay hydrated, and thank you sm!!

happy anniversary w/ gepard.

desc. : im so srry for my mini-hiatus, my schedule is spaghetti ;p my mind was lowkey still buzzing abt the museum event, n i needed a good hook for da story okay !! to me, marriage means becoming a family, so i used dat to set the scene :) am also working on improving gn!reader smut so i hope i did good here ( wc : 1.9k )

tags / cw : nsfw, gn!reader, pretty fluffy i think, oral, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it!), top!gepard, bottom!reader, aftercare, manhandling, breeding (I HOPE I DID THESE RIGHT, I'M SUCH A VANILLA PERSON), not proofread !

Gepard couldn’t help but wonder if he was cut out for fatherhood, given his past encounters with children. It seemed that whenever he interacted with little ones, they either burst into tears at the sight of him or found themselves quickly bored by his serious demeanor. As such, he had never entertained the idea of having a family of his own – not until he met you, at least.

You had a habit of taking Gepard’s entire world and turning it upside down, making him question everything he thought he believed up until that point. This wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, and he quickly found himself drawn to your open-mindedness. Spontaneity was something that Gepard lacked in his life, and you delivered everything he needed and more.

It wasn’t long before the two of you had married, and everyone knew it was a long time coming. No one could soften up the strict Captain like you could, especially when you manage to catch him off guard. Just the other day, Gepard's heartstrings were thoroughly scrambled when he saw you guiding a group of children through the museum. The way you handled the kids was beyond Gepard, and you taught history in a way that they understood, even enjoyed.

After another one of your museum shifts, you and Gepard were relaxing at home. It was the evening of your first anniversary, having been married for a year. Gepard was immersed in a book, your head rested on his shoulder as you arranged your thoughts. Which is what brought you to this point. Here, in your shared home, you decided to finally raise the question.

“You know,” you began softly, your voice carrying a mixture of wonder and uncertainty. “I can’t help but imagine… What if we had children?” Gepard’s demeanor instantly shifted, a fleeting tension washing over his body. Sensing his unease, you hurriedly backtracked. “I’m sorry, you don’t want to… And that’s okay!”

But before the words could fully escape your mouth, Gepard’s reassuring touch met your hand, his eyes filled with warmth. “No, not at all,” he assured. “You simply caught me off guard…” There was an excited tone to his voice, but some uncertainty still lingered deep beneath the surface.

A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you absorbed Gepard’s response. “I think it would be amazing,” you uttered, a dreamy lilt decorating your tone. Gepard’s fingers gently traced the wedding band adorning your finger, and he was instantly reminded of your wedding, how radiant you looked as you stood before him. The image of you, eyes filled with unwavering devotion, etched itself permanently in his heart.

Your gentle laughter caressed his ears as your hand cupped his cheek, pulling him back from his daydream. “Don’t worry, we can wait until you’re ready,” you replied, softly pecking him on the lips. “There’s no rush, after all.” But between your gentle touch and his devotion towards you, all this family talk was getting Gepard a little hot beneath the collar.

He was sure you were aware of it too – your touches growing tantalizingly slow as your lips lingered longer and longer on his. With that same old mischievous glint in your eyes, you took the book from Gepard’s hands and set it on the table across from you. You snaked your arms around his neck, gently shifting yourself into his lap.

"What are we still sitting out here for?" You whispered, forehead pressed against his own. "It's our anniversary after all." Gepard's hands slowly came to rest on your hips, a rosy hue spread across his cheeks. You brought your hands down from his neck, opting to work open the first few buttons of his shirt. Dipping your hands beneath the fabric, Gepard shuddered lightly at your cold touch.

He moved his hands from your hips to your wrists, gently gripping them. "Not on the couch," he breathed. Of course, same old Gepard. That's one rule that's never changed for the whole three years you've been with him. You gave him a quick peck on the nose, followed by a mock salute. Gepard smiled in return, uttering "Your form is off," before scooping you up in his arms.

Your surprise was quickly muffled by his lips on yours, his kiss filled with love and devotion towards you. He made quick work of whisking you off to the bedroom, lightly tossing you onto the soft mattress of your shared bed. You could barely sit up before he was leaning over you, covering your body with his large frame.

"We're not on the couch anymore, are you happy?" You teased, smiling up at him mischievously. Gepard only rolled his eyes in response, lowering his head to kiss you once again. It was deeper this time, only growing more heated as your hands continued to undress him. Before you could undo his belt, his grip on your wrist stopped your ministrations.

"Allow me," he replied, moving to undress you instead. He wedged his knee between your thighs, pushing them open before laying between them. He kept his arms wrapped around your legs, preventing you from closing them again. When he dipped his head between your thighs, you could only gasp at the feeling of his mouth on your heat.

Gepard had more than enough practice over the last few years, and that much was evident. His skilled tongue worked across your sex, rolling over your most sensitive parts. The sensation of his hot mouth caused little stars to spot your vision, nails gripping the sheets so tight you were sure you'd rip them. Your gasps were like music to his ears, only fueling the fire deep within.

His slicked fingers worked you open, gently scissoring your hole. Your back arched at the feeling as Gepard carefully prepared you, sparks of pleasure dashing across your body. But as the buildup started to reach its peak, mere seconds before your vision could go white and the fires of release consumed you, the sudden loss of his fingers and mouth left you cold and empty. The sensation immediately dissipated, fading into obscurity.

Your breathing was ragged as your body attempted to come to terms with the orgasm you never had, blinking away the stars that dotted your vision. "W-Wait," you whispered, raising yourself onto your elbows. "Why'd you st-" But just as the words were about to leave your mouth, Gepard had turned you around onto your stomach, hand resting on your upper back. His free hand hurriedly worked to release his cock from the confines of his pants, as he pressed gentle kisses to the skin of your shoulder blades.

Before you could complain again, he sunk his member deep into your heat. The weight of his body suspended above yours only added to the pleasure, slowly thrusting in sync with the rhythmic contraction of your walls. Each thrust was coupled with the soft grind of his hips, slowly working you back up to your pleasure point. He took his time, butterfly kisses dotting the back of your neck and ears.

"Gepard…" You sighed, to which he replied with a soft hum. While you sincerely enjoyed his languid pace, you needed something more to soothe the ache in your loins. You pressed back against him, breathing a quiet “Faster,” to which he replied with a chuckle. Gepard slipped two fingers between your lips, hushing you with quiet whispers.

You swirled your tongue around his digits, the cool metal of his wedding band contrasting the warmth of your mouth. When he pulled back his hand, a small whine escaped your lips, but your breath soon hitched in your throat as he suddenly increased his pace. He kept his hand pressed down on your lower back, preventing you from bucking back against him as he took you at his own pace.

The way his cock slammed into you left you gasping for air, brushing against your deepest pleasure points. The heat was rising exponentially, drawing the knot in your belly tighter and tighter with each thrust. Gepard’s lips met the back of your ear, gently pressing kisses to the side of your head. As your cries intensified, you buried your face in the closest pillow you could reach, desperate to muffle the throes of your passion.

But Gepard didn’t like the way you tried to hide, and he was quick to swipe the pillow from your hold. He pulled out in the process, and you whined at the sudden loss of contact. The heat from your core dissipated once again, and your orgasm fizzled out of reach a second time. Before you could make your disdain known, his hands gripped your hips to turn you around onto your back.

At your gasp of surprise, his hands met your knees, pushing your thighs up against your chest. He buried himself back in your core, and the roughness of his actions made you wail into your palm. Gepard lowered himself to your face, prying your hand away with his own to clash his lips against yours. You reciprocated the kiss, interlocking your fingers with his. He swiped his tongue against your lower lip, to which you opened your mouth, your tongue meeting his.

When he pulled back, your lips chased his, breaking the delicate string of saliva between you. Your chest heaved as you tried to regain your breath, tiny tears dotting your vision. You felt like you were melting in his hold, the heat of the moment escalating far beyond your limits. Your sighs were like music to Gepard’s ears as he made love to you, consummating your marriage a second time.

The hand from your thigh moved down to your abdomen, pressing into the skin to feel the way he moved inside of you. He gripped your hand tighter, slightly increasing the pace to chase his orgasm. His cock glided effortlessly, bruising your deepest parts as you sang him praise. The pressure rose even higher in your core, building on your previously denied release.

Amidst his passion, Gepard managed to grunt out a quiet “Where do you want it?” ghosting his lips along the side of your face. You managed to compose yourself just enough to answer, barely squeaking out “Inside,” before another moan tore itself from your throat. Gepard’s hands came to rest on your thighs again, burying himself impossibly deep in your core.

The sensation of his load warming you from within sent you over the edge as well, whispers of his name escaping your lips as your nails dug into his arm. Sparks of electrifying bliss enveloped your body, walls clenching around his cock. Gepard rode out his high, gently grinding his hips against yours. His lips met yours again, this time kissing you much softer than before.

When he pulled away, some of his cum dripped from your core. You finally released your iron grip on his hand, sitting up to meet him at eye-level. “Why don’t we go get cleaned up,” you asked, your hand cupping the side of his face. Gepard hummed in approval, turning his head to place a kiss on your palm.

“I think a bath would do,” he spoke, pulling you off the bed and into his arms. Though you weren’t really sure how much cleaning you’d actually get done. All in all, any time you got to spend with your beloved husband was a win in your books.

(melts) i saw a ballet concert, had my hair done, went out w/ my dad nd played league wit my friends. nun of these activities allowed me 2 write my smutty smut dis week waahhhh hopefully back on schedule now :') i tried 2 write dis extra long as an apology, also referenced multiple online sources 4 gn!smut 2 attempt 2 educate myself........

#gepard smut #gepard x you #gepard x reader #gepard hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #gepard landau #♥︎ | milky writes #♥︎ | request

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merakiui · 1 year

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Hello! Your work is always so good, especially for this event! May I place an order for a flower bouquet with sea salt caramels and sugar stars (lactation) for Jade Leech and a fem!reader? Thank you for your time!

yandere!jade leech x (female) reader cw: slight yandere, nsfw, drugging/use of potions, lactation, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, brief mentions of pregnancy note - thank you for checking in, dearest guest! enjoy your order! [lunar love hotel]

In hindsight, it was foolish to accept the unlabeled vial from Jade. Anyone with half a mind would know to turn the other way and start running if he approached them, dressed primly in his lab coat and goggles, holding his newest creation with a twisted sort of pride mirroring that of a mad scientist boasting their prized monster to the world. But you didn’t have much of a choice, having been indebted to him ever since you failed to uphold your end of the deal you struck with Azul, and by now you’ve grown accustomed to taste-testing all of the absurd potions he concocts.

Initially, you thought you could get out of obeying Azul’s every command if you just acted clumsy and brainless, and it had worked at first. Azul had decided you’d be better off in the kitchen rather than on the floor taking and delivering orders. But then the kitchen almost went up in flames and so you were quickly demoted to inventory and then stocking, both tasks you proved to be abysmal at. Azul had attempted to pawn you off to Floyd, who was not in the mood to keep you as his own, and so you soon found yourself at Jade’s doorstep, who was so very willing to welcome you with a pleasant simper.

You know you shouldn’t be surprised when the effects of his potions stray into embarrassing territory. He’s always had a talent for crafting alchemical mischief. Last week, it was a potent aphrodisiac. The week before that was a potion that had temporarily blessed you (or cursed you depending on how you view it) with fins and gills, and you had to spend the entire day in the Mostro Lounge aquarium while Jade fashioned a cure, deliberately taking his time just to spite you.

Today’s potion is a little different. At first you assumed he’d mixed a failure when nothing immediately happened, but within minutes you began to feel the strangest sensation in your breasts. It was a dull, uncomfortable ache; you thought your breasts had gotten fuller in the span of a few minutes and you’d even poked at them when Jade had turned away, marveling at the pudgy heaviness. Jade had asked you how you were faring; you know he only cares about the results of his potion and not what said results do to your mental and physical health. The question hardly reached your ears because, at that very moment, liquid dampened the padding of your bra.

With eyes blown wide, you looked down your shirt and into your bra to find two wet patches, growing significantly in size the more you stood slack-jawed.

Jade presses himself against you before you can make your escape, his gloved hands tugging your shirt up and over your head, leaving you in just your bra. He pulls it up to observe the stains and then your breasts, which are leaking thin, translucent trails.

“Fascinating,” he mumbles, a word spoken in breathy amazement, and he gives your breast an experimental squeeze. Milk comes out in creamy spurts, and you suppress a flustered whimper.

“N-Not fascinating!” you hiss, squirming against him. “What the hell did you give me, you creep?! What sort of magic drug—”

“I couldn’t possibly tell you. That’s why I had you test it, and from the looks of it I’ve managed to brew something very entertaining.”

You roll your eyes and swat at his reaching hand. “Well, fix it. This feels...” You swallow thickly when he pinches your perky, glistening nipple between his thumb and forefinger to coax more milk out. Your voice falters. “F-Feels weird...”

“Oh? Would you be willing to elaborate?”

Not really, you think, but if complying is the only way to move towards a cure you’ll have to enlighten him.

“It just feels...” Your hand closes around his and you lean against him, nearly boneless when he squeezes your other breast. It prompts a soft, sweet sigh from your lips. “It feels like... Like when you stretch really good and your joints pop.”

“Ah, so it’s relieving. In that case, it would be a shame to leave you in such a messy state. Allow me to help.”

You weigh his words on your internal scale. “Fine,” you eventually mutter, brows furrowed. “But I don’t owe you anything in return. You were the one who made that potion, so you take responsibility.”

“And you were the one who drank it.”

“Only because I had to! If I wasn’t stuck with you, I’d never—ooh!” A particularly rough squeeze has you arching your back against him. Milk runs down your chest in thick streams, far more plentiful than before. You slap your hands over your mouth, face flaring with warmth.

Jade chuckles, low and husky. “You were saying?”

“S-Shut up.”

“I couldn’t possibly when you seem so keen to engage in delightful conversation,” he says with a hum, reaching over to pluck something from the shelf.

You follow his movements with a frown, soon realizing that the object in his hand is a glass jar. His intentions dawn on you at once. “You can’t be serious. You’re a freak, Jade.” It’s at that same moment when something pokes your ass from behind, and your face contorts in disgust. “Jaaade, you’re gross! I’m not helping you with that! I’m only your contractual taste-tester, not your contractual...” You trail off in embarrassment. “Y-You know what I mean.”

“I’m aware,” he says dismissively, positioning the jar under your breast. “I’m not very partial to wasting ingredients. Besides, I’m certain you taste as appetizing as you look. Shall I make something out of this and serve it to Azul and Floyd for their critique? Or shall I keep it all to myself? I’m quite tempted to do the latter. You see, I’ve always wondered...” His voice lowers into a whisper, his breath hot against the shell of your ear. You shiver, chewing your lip to muffle your groans when he twists your nipple roughly, filling the glass with some of your milk. “How would you taste if you were truly pregnant?”

His fingers dig into soft flesh, handling you with the same skillful precision a farmer might possess when milking a heifer. His grip is painfully possessive, but that’s the last thing on your mind when his words leave you speechless.

“I suppose I can satisfy myself with this for now.” The jar is already halfway full. Your body feels as if it’s on fire; part of you wonders if he mixed an aphrodisiac into that potion because there’s simply no way you’ll find relief after just one filled jar. Perhaps you’d feel more blissful pleasure if it weren’t for his eerie admissions filling your head like a swarm of terrible flies, buzzing incessantly about how, if you were pregnant, you’d have no choice but to follow him into the future as his contractual obligation and then his wife and then a mother to lots of baby eels. “Although these games are never fun after the fact... What a pity.”

“W-What do you mean?”

“All pleasant things have time limits. I suspect this potion will only last for the day, and your milk will only stay so fresh. Truly a shame.” Jade’s teeth prick your ear; there’s a vicious smirk in his voice when he speaks next. “I wonder... Have you ever considered names? You might need them if I’m to have my fill of your milk in the foreseeable future.”

You know this is far from a humorous situation, but you still manage an awkward laugh. “Don’t say weird stuff like that.”

Jade chuckles and sets the jar on the shelf, turning you so that you can face him. Though he sounds composed, his face is flushed with arousal. He lowers to your height, taking hold of both of your leaky, milky tits with his hands, studying them with such focus it’s as if he’s been charmed.

“I wonder how many I could give you. How full you’d look. How soft you would become...” he mumbles, mostly to himself, but you catch it anyway.

“Keep dreaming, Jade.”

“I most certainly will.”

#yandere jade leech #yandere jade leech x reader #yandere jade #yandere jade x reader #yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #n/sfw #tw: drugging #tw: lactation #lunar love hotel 2023 #anon... anon thank you for this delicious request orz i have been wanting to write lactation with jade for so long now aaaaa!!!#i imagine the first thing he does is make tres leches with your milkies <3

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natimiles · 1 day

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OMG NATI I JUST SAW UR EVENT!!! congrats :D u deserve these and so many more!! If I may, can I request william (ikevil) + kissing the tip of the nose?

OMG INKY, HIII! Thaaank yoouuu! You’re so sweet 😭🤧

I might’ve used the fact I know that you love pet names against you (again), ASHUEHSAEIA.

William + Tip of the nose

Words: 411

Tags: established relationship; pet names; no pronouns for reader.

Sitting on the bed, William leans against the headboard, quietly reading while you finish your work. However, he quickly finds his attention drawn to you, his book forgotten on his lap.

His crimson eyes are fixed on you, intently observing every little thing his darling little robin does. He notices how you type faster now than when you first came to Crown, how you bite your lip in concentration, how you mumble when you want to find the perfect word to write down, and how your eyes shine when you find it.

He sees you organizing the pages, which means you’re done and will turn around to look at him. He keeps watching you, wanting to see the endearing reaction you’ll let out when you realize his eyes have been on you for a long time.

When you finish everything, you turn around in your chair, expecting to see William reading or even sleeping, given how quiet he’s been for the last few minutes. What a surprise when you see him looking right at you.

“Oh, hey!” you can’t help but let out a surprised sound, blinking in confusion. Then you open a shy smile, your head tilting to the side. “How long have you been staring?”

“Hmm… I wonder,” he grins, amused. “If you’re done, come here with me, my love.”

“I am!” you reply excitedly.

William doesn’t have much time to close his book and place it on the nightstand because you practically race to him. You throw yourself on him, and he holds you tight while falling sideways with you in his arms. Your giggles are music to his ears, and he joins in with his own.

You suddenly lean forward and place a kiss on the tip of his nose, and he’s the one caught by surprise this time. He is more than amused by your display of affection, though.

“My, my! What an enthusiastic little robin I have,” he smiles widely.

“I’m happy to be here with you.”

He brings his hand to your hair, brushing it out of your face to take a better look at you. His fingers slide back to your nape, and he holds you in place, so this time he can be the one giving you a kiss on the tip of your nose. His heart is full of fondness and love for you — he wonders if you know how you have him wrapped around your finger.

“Me too, my love.”

Beneath The Milky Twilight ♥ Event Masterlist

#beneath the milky twilight event #💌 inky #ikemen villains #ikevil #ikevil william #ikevil william rex #ikevil writings #ikevil fanfics #ikevil scenarios #ikemen villains william #ikevil x reader #ikemen villains x reader #ikevil will #ikemen villains will

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milky-aeons · 4 months

Text

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐑

౨ৎ . . . in which JEAN KIRSCHTEIN finally gets that idyllic little home in the interior, reminisces on the echoes of war, and can't seem to keep his hands off of his pregnant newly-wed wife.

warnings: swearing, sexual content, pregnancy, depictions of violence, memories of war/ptsd, mdni, w.c 2.4k

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐓, clinking against the crystal glass that reflected the light.

It jostled Jean from his dark musings — calling him back from the battlefield within his mind.

He glanced over at it, blinking. Reaching towards the little glass, he picked it up and swirled the contents around. It was a fine whiskey — brewed and stored in Ashwood barrels to give it that intoxicating flavour. During his soldier days, Jean had only been able to dream about touching such expensive whiskey to his lips. And yet here he was, on a bright afternoon deep into autumn, drinking a glass like he had an endless supply of it on his home terrace in the Capital.

It was everything he could have ever wanted.

And yet, it did nothing to quell the screams and cries, the memories of bloodshed roaring up to wash over him.

To drown him.

From the moment he had woken up next to his snoozing wife that morning, Jean just knew today was going to be tough. There were many of them ever since the war ended — days where he could not get out of bed, where he couldn't even will himself to step into the shower without feeling like he was choking. The scars left from the war were deep and corrosive, and perhaps, they would never heal. But he owed it to each and every one of his fallen comrades to continue on. To build something beautiful out of the ashes left in their wake.

Jean winced suddenly — his fight or flight kicking in. In his ears, there was not the gentle din of shoppers from the Mitras street below or the chirping of bluebirds. There was carnage. There was the sounds of screaming orders, of ripping bodies and explosives. In one fraction of a second, he was back on that airship — he was getting ready to dive with his comrades onto the back of the Founding Titan with a slim chance that he would make it out alive—

"Morning, darling," An angel spoke to him, slicing through the clouds, and he felt something warm and comforting sliding down his taut chest. "You're quiet. Is everything alright?"

Slowly, so agonisingly slowly, the images of their last battle dissipated like departing smoke. In its remnants; the sounds of the markets below, the sweet-smelling breeze touched by autumn leaves, feminine arms reaching over his shoulders and playing with his frock.

Feminine — the scent of lilies and warmth. His wife. His beautiful, beautiful wife.

Jean inhaled, his chest expanding almost painfully, and fashioned his face into something composed. He craned his head back to meet your eyes. They were haloed in the tumbles of [h/c] hair that cascaded down to hide him from the outside world.

He flashed you a signature, cheeky grin. "All good. What are ya doin' up this early though?" He fired back at you, his eyebrows pinching with tender concern. "You should be resting."

It was true — and every time he saw the evidence of the life swelling in your belly, Jean felt the need to slap himself. Really, really hard, just to be sure. There was a bright glow that touched the tips of your cheeks, your breasts has swollen and become heavier, readying for the child who would be born within the next few months. A father, he was going to be a father. What were the fucking odds that they had made it this far, you and him, that you were bringing life into this new world. Something he originally believed would have been impossible.

You narrowed your eyes at your husband. There was a familiar look on his face, one which caused you to reach up and brush the curve of his brow.

"You have nightmares in your eyes, my love." You whispered.

He didn't contest, didn't say anything. But he didn't need to. Instead, he closed those honey-coloured eyes and sighed. Jean nudged into your touch — a silent ask — and you continued to rub soothing arcs against his skin. Smoothening out the wrinkles of his bunched expression.

"Shh, it's okay," You murmured in a calming tone. "You are safe. You are here, Jean. We made it. Nothing is going to hurt us, anymore."

Your husband took in deep breaths. First, quick and shallow, which then levelled out into a pace more even. From stroking his face, you let your deft fingertips dance along his skin and sink into his unruly hair, still unbrushed and tousled by sleep. It was past his ears now, you noticed, curling against the nape of his neck in soft sweeps.

"Your hair has gotten long again." You remarked, playing with their ends.

"Hmm," Jean responded. "Suppose so. Kinda like it." He then opened his eyes to look at you once more, and when he did, you were delighted to find they were their bright whiskey-gold, just like the bottle on your terrace table. You smiled softly down at him.

"You have come back to me."

Jean stared at you with those unyielding, clever eyes. He then reached up to catch your caressing hand and turned his face to place a kiss in the palm.

"Always." He whispered.

You would have spent that tender moment just basking in the sunlight with him there, thankful that you both had this time together. Your husband, however, seemed to have other plans. First, it was a wicked little glint that flashed across his eyes — and in the next moment, he was up, using the hand he had clasped to spin you around and hoist you up into his arms.

"J-Jean—!" You choked down a laugh. He scooped you up effortlessly into a bridal-style hold, walking through the terrace doors and into your shared little kitchen.

"Well, my wife is just lookin' extra beautiful this morning!" He chirped, and spun you around and around. Your giggles became a loud, playful scorn, calling him a silly man and demanding that he set you down before he made you and the baby dizzy.

"Our baby will come with a perpetual issue of poor balance!" You cried when he finally stopped, holding you close to him.

"If he's anything like his old man," Jean said. "He will have no problems. In fact, he'll be a damn master at all things balance. You know what they called me in the cadets, right?"

"Yes, yes. Mr. Genius at ODM Gear." Your faces were close, and you nuzzled into the strong column of his neck, breathing in his familiar scent. "I just hope he will not be as big-headed."

"Hah? What did you say?"

Jean was peppering kisses starting from the very crown of your head, following a path of heat down your forehead, your cheeks, then finishing at your neck and giving you a playful nip.

You yelped, swatting at him. It only spurned him on, his broad shoulders that you held onto for support rumbling with his deep laughter. His butterfly kisses against your neck became a frenzy, tickling all of your sensitive spots, murmuring in his low voice who are ya makin' fun of? Hm? He both made you giggle and sparked a familiar heady feeling low in the pit of your stomach.

Your chuckles deepened in time with your quickening breath. It became thready and shallow, increasing in time as your heartrate picked up. Still in his captive bridal hold, you slid your hands from his shoulders to around his neck, tugging at his hair in that way you knew drove him wild.

His kisses tripped over your skin when you did so, his breath caught. Pleasured need rippled throughout your body. The kisses he placed on your neck became messier, changing from swift and teasing to hot, open-mouthed. You craned your head back to give him better access and he wasted absolutely no time — dragging the flat of his tongue from your collarbone to your ear, humming when you arched up in his hold.

Jean hoisted you up a little so he could move swiftly through the apartment. His long legs ate up the distance, gliding through the little one-storey terrace you had both made your home in the interior. You leaned up to him while he moved, kissing him sweetly, tenderly. Speaking in words you said so many times and would continue to say again; I love you. Now and forever.

Your second kiss, however, was meaner — you clamped your teeth on his bottom lip and he growled.

When he reached the bedroom you both shared, you felt Jean kick the door shut behind him, before walking you over to the unmade bed and placing you down. So gently, so caringly. The fragility of how he held you was almost enough to shatter your heart. The mattress dipped when he kneeled over you, encouraging you to lie down flat.

"You're gonna pay for doing that." He murmured in a rough voice.

Innocently, you bat your eyelashes. "For what, my dear husband?"

He leaned down so that your foreheads connected and closed his eyes, sighing hard through his nose. "For being so fuckin' irresistible."

Every inch of you was set alight as he leaned over you, caging you down to the bed with his larger body. You tried to surge up — to feel his mouth on yours and never stop, but he rose, kneeling so he could look down at you.

He was still in that light cotton sleeping shirt he wore to bed — hanging loosely around his neck, throwing his tanned skin into sublime focus. His golden eyes shadowed into a deep whiskey followed from your face, to your aching breasts, to your belly. The little swell there made his expression soften. He placed a hand onto your warm stomach and held it still, feeling the child you will soon share and raise together, his newly polished wedding band catching the morning light.

You felt like you were going to burst with the sheer force of love you felt for this man, Jean Kirschtein, your husband, for now and always. The longer you stared at him, the stronger the low pulse between your legs became.

"Jean." You whispered, and he looked up from under his fair lashes, understanding the plea in your voice.

Jean took his time undressing you, like the wicked little thing he was, delighting at how you wriggled under his touch like a trapped and desperate butterfly. When he had stripped both of you bare, you marvelled at the strong planes of his chest and tight, defined abdominal muscles. You traced each and every little scar he wore proudly, feeling those muscles twitch underneath your touch.

He was perfect. He was yours.

"Come here." You crooned, looping your arms around his neck and pulling him over you.

"Yes ma'am."

Your arms did not fit across the large expanse of his back muscles — you sunk your nails into the curves of his shoulder bones, feeling as they shifted when he crawled on top of you. His head dipped down to catch one of your sensitive nipples in his mouth and he sucked — nibbling softly. Your head knocked back. When he lifted his hand and closed the entirety of his palm over your unattended breast, the moan you let out was long and broken.

"They've gotten big, hm?" He whispered against your chest, chasing his words with loving kisses. "So pretty."

Impatient, lust racing through your bloodstream, you grabbed his wandering hand and guided it to where you ached between your thighs. So slick and swollen, Jean's eyebrows raised, his expression becoming incredibly smug.

"Oi, you've gotten impatient, have you?"

"Oh—yes, yes." You groaned when his fingers curled against you. He knew all the right spots to push, to rub, to make you sing for him.

"Come on, sweetheart, tell me what ya need."

"I need—oh, I need you!"

"Like this?" He cooed, pushing two fingers into you with such tender slowness. It felt exquisite, it felt so filling when you were hot and aching — but not enough.

To urge him, you hooked your leg around the strong curve of his lower back and pulled him into you. He made a sound of surprise, releasing his fingers from you to catch his weight by bracing his hands on either side of your head.

His wide eyes collided with your fierce ones. The intensity you were looking at him with made this ex-soldier's cock give a painful twitch.

"I need you. Inside me. Now."

Pleasure exploded down Jean Kirschtein's spine in a thousand lightning bolts. He hung his head forward, groaning, before reaching down to push your thighs gently apart to allow for his body to slot neatly with yours.

"Well, what typ'a husband would I be if I denied you?"

His cock slid inside you in a way that always felt so mind-numbingly perfect, like he was made to be there, to be yours. Jean let out a ferocious sound and buried into your swollen breasts. You moaned, deep, relieved, bucking your hips up to grind into him.

Jean resurfaced to connect your shining foreheads, once more. He reached down to cup your hips and drew out — pushing back inside with such concentration. He was being careful with you, he was handling you like you were the most precious thing in the entire world. You had become attuned to the monstrous power Jean Kirschtein housed in his toned body, honed from years of battling for his life. You had felt it. Even now, you could feel that hum under his skin — the strength he had used to fuck you against tables and walls, the marble tiling in the shower, the balcony in the deep hours of the night.

But now — he was a gentle, caring lover. He pulsed into you in at a steady pace. Both of you gasped each other's air. You clawed at him. His mouth dropped open to pant as he thrusted into you again, again, again.

When his movements started to become messier, less co-ordinated, did he reach down between the both of you and thrum his fingers against where you were most sensitive. You barked out a cry. The bed began to rock and whine with the force of your love-making.

"Come with me, [Name]." He growled against your shoulder. "Come on, sweetheart, come with me, come with me."

In a delirious haze of ecstasy, you nodded your head, again and again until the apex of your pleasure crested and swelled. Your nails dug into his skin. Jean's breaths quickened until they became choked, gasping moans, and his release smashed into him. You fell, too, crashing through the wall of ecstasy with him until all you knew were his body and his scent and the clasping of his be-ringed hand in yours.

It was all he had ever wanted.

#attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #aot fanfiction #aot x reader #jean kirstein #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirsten x reader #jean x reader #did i spend today writing smut for a 2D man?#yes #yes i did #dividers by the magnificent firefly graphics!#🪄— milky writes #‼️ — spoilers #💓 — thump

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